Camino de Santiago Part 3

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Seeing the next town in the distance on the Camino de Santiago, Spain

Day 12: Burgos to Hosantos

Day 12: Burgos-Hosantos
31km
During the night, as our hospitalera warned, we heard loud fireworks all night for the city's big annual festival. Our 10pm curfew in the bustling city of Burgos was very painful when fireworks were happening directly outside our window in the city center plaza. As Ettore and I walked out of the albergue at 7am with our packs, swaying festival goers were still packed inside the plazas drinking. We wandered our way out of the city center looking for espresso, weaving through the young Spanish party-ers, past the cathedral glowing in the sunrise, and quickly made our way back into wheat fields.

La Meseta

We were now walking La Meseta, the long flat plains of Spain. We met a Norwegian And tried to find a place open for breakfast. We had no luck and walked over 10km to the next small town. We found a tiny hotel and Camilla and Oscar and a Hungarian girl were huddled around their croissants inside the patio of the hotel's stone walls. This was not going to be a day for espresso breaks every 30 minutes so we had two espressos and took an extra long break. After all, we were walking about 8 miles over hills to get our breakfast. The guidebook suggests to stop at 20 km at a town in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to my new daily routine of diaper rash cream on my toes, I was blister free and ready for another 10k. Ettore and I continued, singing and sweating all the way to an oasis in the plains called Hosantos. So far, La Meseta has been beautiful in its own unique way. We stood in huge stretches of wheat watching the wind cross over the fields like waves on an ocean. These are places that you usually can't get to by car.
It is supposed to take us 7 days to cross La Meseta, maybe 5 or 6 days if we keep our pace up to 30+ km a day and we leave before sunrise to beat the heat.

The longest stretch without espresso on the Camino!

I threw away a pair of socks today and a used up bottle of sunblock. I don't know if my pack is getting significantly lighter or if I'm getting significantly stronger. I considered myself a fairly fit person before starting the Camino but hills, sun, and heavy packs day after day is hard to prepare for. Few people actually train for the Camino. I believe you prepare for the Camino by just beginning and walking the Camino.

The Norwegian whose name is hard to pronounce and who works as a manager at a fishing company is now called Salmon.  He talked about how many people dropped out of the Camino at Burgos and how many of his friends he made in the first day stayed back in the big towns to party or to just go home. Some were not fit enough physically or mentally. The Camino is not for everyone and certainly La Maseta showcases an even odder breed of walkers.

The Albergue System

A few words about the albergues: You never make reservations and the albergues fill as pilgrims arrive. Because you have to show your pilgrim credencial, you are only staying in rooms with other people traveling the Camino. Depending on the albergue and availability, you can be given small mats on the floor of a large room with over 50 people or be in bunk bed with as few as 6 people. That's right, snuggle up in your sleeping bag next to the old snoring man and squeeze your wallet tight.  I've gotten really good at quietly hurdling bunk bed ladders with sore feet, suspending a dry change of clothes over shower doorways, and packing my backpack in the dark every morning.
The vast majority of pilgrims are so kind and thoughtful but like anywhere, there are a few oddballs (like the French pocketknife guy) that puts you on edge. Luckily,  my favorite Italians have got my back now. I am never alone on the Camino.

Day 13: Hosantos to Boadillos del Camino

Day 13: Hosantos-Boadillos del Camino
28km
Due to a Belgian snorer, Ettore and I did not sleep well and it is amazing how much your sleep quality shows in your walking energy. We left a tad late from the middle of nowhere to walk to another oasis in the middle of nowhere. Most of these towns have been around for centuries and were built specifically for the pilgrim on the Camino. As we headed into the first town, we came across the ruins of a 12th century convent. There is an albergue built within the crumbling walls and a Dutch hospitalera stamped our credencials and suggest we take a detour to an active Monastery to buy cookies from the cloistered nuns. We took the risk of walking an unmarked dirt road and came upon a boarded up church in a quiet town. I tried knocking on all of the doors and figured we weren't there during open hours. We carried on to the next bell tower in the distance. As we approached town, another stone-walled building appeared and I realized that this was the Monastery we wanted. I walked into a courtyard and found a small open doorway. Inside was a little buzzer to ring and a glass case full of cookie samples. I rang the bell and heard footsteps approaching the wooden cabinet in the center of the wall. I opened the cabinet to see only a spinning shelf and the voice of the sweet nun who asked what cookies I would like. We chatted for a few minutes about the Camino and where I was from. I can't tell you what joy I have in communicating with someone in another language. So speaking Spanish to the faceless wall was a new level of Spanish I didn't know I could reach. The nun spun around my order of two different kinds of cookies and then I spun around my euros. Transaction with cloistered nun complete! We were off to the next espresso bar and sat with our cookies in the town of Castrojariz sipping cappuccinos and viewing the castles ruins atop a hill. 
Every day on the Camino is a new beautiful experience.

Speaking to the nuns through the wall for cookies.

Antonio twisted his ankle days before and was not recovering so he and Patricia took the bus today, reaching our destination sooner. Ettore and I walked the final 5km in near silence. You know I'm tired if I'm not singing about the next town. We reached 28 km today. In the past two days alone, we walked 47 miles. I'm so tired and I've never been more content.
Feet status: Ever since my conversation I had with Santiago about thinking in the moment, I have not had blisters.
I ate dinner with the Italians and Salmon the Norwegian in the albergue. I don't know where Camilla is. I think she and Oscar and Hungarian girl are a few clicks behind us. I hope we meet in the next town.

Day 14: Boadilla del Camino to Carrión de Los Condes

Day 14: Boadilla del Camino-Carrión de Los Condes
26km
I woke up with a devastating discovery. I had bed bugs. These were not the same bites as spider town. The series of 3 bites in a row on my hands and feet were proof. There's not much you can do if you want to keep moving so I carried my infested backpack, hoping to take care of it in the next town.
I walked the flat monotonous gravel paths through wheat fields with my 3 favorite Italians: Ettore, Patricia, and Antonio. Our ability to communicate is helped largely by Ettore's English translations and my Spanish. I am the spokesperson at restaurants since they don't speak Spanish. It is a funny scene when an American girl from Chicago acts as ambassador for a group of goofy Italians in rural Spain...but the role makes we feel really important and they love wine just as much as I do. We walked slowly through more of La Meseta and became at our quietest yet since knowing each other. La Meseta and the sun wears you out and I think all of our minds went floating up into the sky. 
We ended up staying at El Monasterio de Santa Clara, a convent that takes in pilgrims. To treat the bed bugs, I washed everything in my bag and placed my whole backpack inside of a giant plastic garbage bag and set it out on the roof of the convent in the sun. The bag makes it so hot that the bugs either escape or die.
May all God's creatures living in my pack die on the rooftop of the convent. Amen.
Patricia was hit with bed bugs a few days ago and shared her calamine lotion. Despite all precautions, this, too, is often part of the Camino. I'm sorry if you've gotten a little itchy reading this.
We didn't see Salmon today and I still haven't seen Camilla or Oscar. They are lost at Camino sea.
We were in a very small and uninspiring town but I've never felt closer to my Italians than today.

Day 15: Carrion de Los Condes to Moratinos

Kill Bed bugs by placing backpack in garbage bag in the sun. Here it's on the albergue rooftop.

Day 15: Carrión de Los Condes-Moratinos
27km

Another cool morning drinking espresso in the dark with our packs huddled at the cafe door. We could not walk the Camino the full Italian way today because we had a 17 km stretch without any towns. Can you imagine walking that long without an espresso bar? Antonio packed us baguettes and marmalade and biscottis. We left with the sun rising and because we have been gaining so much ground in the past few days, we met a few new pilgrims and sang a few new songs.
My contribution is the Potato song that is a huge hit with the Italians. "You say po-TAY-to and I say po-TAH-to..."
I often pause on my walks when I see a line of ants crossing a trail. I call it the Camino of Ants. I think about how ants carry enormous leaves on their back for great distances to only find more leaves at their destination. Why does the ant carry these leaves for so long? I have also been carrying ridiculous things on my back for great distances. I am no better than the ant.
My Italian family and I stuck together most of the day and Ettore and I landed at a cluster of buildings (not really a town). We had officially marked the halfway point between St. Jean (our start) and Santiago. That's about 400km on foot. 
I type this while scratching bug bites and feeling the heat radiate off of my sun screened arms and face. I accidentally left my shampoo in the first town I walked to and haven't washed my hair in 2 weeks. I've also convinced Ettore to continue to Santiago. He was going to stop in León and return to Italy.

La Meseta on the Camino de Santiago, (El Camino Interior)

Day 16: Moratinos to El Burgo Ranero

Day 16: Moratinos-El Burgo Ranero
30.9km
Ettore and I found a snoring-free room and I was free of bugs so I slept!! Wow, did I sleep!
We continued through rural wheat fields, this stage of the Camino is hard, and not just for the gluten-intolerant... and then we passed through Sahagun with history that was too hot to stop and look at. We did cross over a Roman bridge and followed a long dirt road through the fields nearby an old Roman road.

Saint Qualifications

A few notes about the long hot gravel paths through miles and miles of fields in the middle of nowhere: Somebody thought it was a good idea to plant trees along the path. That person is my hero. Actually they should be sainted. We have passed through towns named after saints (San Juan de Ortega and Santo Domingo de la Calzada, to name a few) who were sainted for merely building a bridge for pilgrims. Perhaps they did other things. The person who planted the trees along the unforgiving gravel paths of La Meseta is my new patron saint of skin cancer. Let's call her Saint Derma. She will soon be competing for the lead role over St. Patrick for all Irish pilgrims who have run out of sunscreen in rural Spain.
I met a father and his two sons from Madrid who started walking the Camino in Burgos. The boys were middle school age so they told me about how much they hate their art teacher at their school. A few tips they gave me: let students listen to whatever music they want to, let them work in groups, and don't make them be perfect. Got it. Thanks, chicos.
We also met an Italian couple who were walking the Camino and getting married in Santiago at the end. 
There are so many little stories and people that fill each day. 
I found the two teaching sisters from Michigan at today's albergue. One of them had a bad ankle so they took a bus to catch up and were surprised to find us. They didn't think they'd see anyone for another day. We are bus-free, almost blister-free, and cruising on foot with our full packs. 
News on the Camino is that Camilla is ok but behind several towns! She also twisted her ankle so she is going extra slow.
Antonio called Ettore to let us know that they found Salmon the Norwegian a few towns ahead. Our migrating village of pilgrims has started to drift as the days go on. We hope to meet in León tomorrow. It's 37km away so we will leave at 4:30am!

The Camino Interior's is long, straight, and makes you look not at the scenery but at yourself.

Day 17: El Burgo Ranero to León

Day 17: El Burgo Ranero-León
37+km
Did I say 4:30am? That's funny. After the efficient Scandinavians had left the building, I finally dragged myself out of my bunk at the reasonable Italian hour of 6am. Ettore and I hauled it from dawn until 5pm, walking 37km in total into the city of León. Our highest mileage in one day yet. My guidebook says to take the bus into town the last few kilometers to avoid city traffic. It talks about swallowing your pride and consider your ego and why we think it's so important to walk on foot every mile. I appreciated that point but I came to walk the Camino and I'm so glad I kept my feet on the ground. The slow and ugly change on foot from wheat fields, to industrial factories, to suburban car dealerships, to narrow medieval streets into the cathedral plaza, was a fascinating transition.  No bus can show you that.
We made our espresso stops as short as possible since we had so much ground to cover... And we finally entered the shockingly huge city, population 120,000! 

Diaper Cream for the win

They say that the Camino is not a competition or a race and it''s about your personal journey...blablabla...I know this...BUT...I just want to point out that I met two ex-soldiers who had to stop because the Camino got rough. A guy in the German army had blisters that had him off his feet for a few days and a guy from the Israeli army had shin splints. Clearly their armies haven't gotten hold of the secret weapon: diaper cream. <insert sponsorship for diaper cream here.> ha. Apply liberally on your toes every morning. And always stop for espresso.

La Meseta, Spain, Camino de Santiago, (El Camino Interior)

Continue the journey on the Camino with me here in Part 4. 

Pre-Camino Travels | Camino Part 1 | Camino Part 2 | Camino Part 3 | Camino Part 4 | Camino Part 5

Camino de Sanitago Part 1

 Pre-Camino Travels | Camino Part 1 | Camino Part 2 | Camino Part 3 | Camino Part 4 | Camino Part 5

Here begins the first installment of emails written to my friends back home while hiking El Camino de Santiago. To see my Pre-Camino journey through France, read the previous blog post here.

The first day of the Camino de Santiago, Pyrenees Mountains

In the footsteps of St. Francis of Assisi, Charlamagne, Paulo Choelo and...Shirley MacLaine, I have begun my 500 mile walk, the Camino de Santiago, across Spain. The popularity of the Camino Frances has grown in the past few decades in part from some well known authors writing about it. It also helped that Martin Sheen made a super cheesy (but I secretly like it) B grade movie called The Way and I imagine Post-Franco Spain is probably a little bit more stable for the adventurous middle-aged mom from California trying to find herself.
Medieval pilgrims took such a risk and made such a sacrifice to take the pilgrimage to Santiago that they would often make arrangements in the event that they never returned home. But don't worry! I've got an excellent team coordinating the watering of my plants in my apartment and the bandits under the bridge only want to sell you stale bocadillos and wifi service in their cafe, a snake oil of sorts perhaps, but one that will allow me to eventually see home and loved ones again.

Day 0: St. Jean de Pied de Port, France

Steep inclines with full backpack, Camino de Santiago, Spain

Pilgrim's Passport for the Camino de Santiago

Day 1: St. Jean to Roncesvalles, Population 30

Day 0: St. Jean de Pied de Port, France
From Bordeaux, I managed to get on a train without a heart attack. I switched at Bayonne to a little train that took me and mostly other Pilgrims to the traditional start of the Camino Frances. (There are many pilgrim routes that all lead to Santiago. This one is probably the most popular.) The little medieval town of St. Jean was picturesque. I found my way to the sweetest little Pilgrim albergue (hostel) called Gite Ultreia. Everything in this area is written in French and Basque and sometimes Spanish. I strained at every word on the street constantly changing gears and saying Bonjour and Gracias in the same sentence. As soon as I got into the albergue, I immediately felt the difference in attitude and tone of the camino. As I would later hear from another pilgrim, "you smell peace."

So far on day 0, I had no friends. I went on my own to the restaurant across the tiny street. The restaurant's back terrace butts up against the medieval city walls. It is where footman soldiers would pace looking out. It is now a restored tourist footpath. The walkers passed overhead while I dutifully completed the vegetarian pilgrim menu (omelette, potato, and salad.)
Natalie, the host at this pilgrim hostel, sold me my Pilgrim Passport, the credential, for 2 euros, and I received my first stamp from her. I think they are like getting stickers when you are a kid. Pure joy.

After slowly walking around and looking at everything-I mean everything in the entire town- for several hours, I went back to fall asleep in Gite Ultreia.
Marco, the Italian, had a different idea. He came stumbling in right at pilgrim curfew (you have to be in by 10 so you don't disturb the other pilgrims) and fell asleep in the next bed snoring like I've never heard someone snore. It was like Darth Vader slurping peach cobbler through a straw. I thought I wasn't the type to need earplugs but Marco Vader taught me otherwise.

You are never along on the Camino.

Day 1: St. Jean to Roncesvalles, Population 30
25.1km-Crossing the Pyrenees
I started the Camino with a fairly awkward breakfast with the host and a father and son from Oregon sitting in the small guest kitchen. Starting somewhat late at 7:30am--thanks Marco Vader--I walked to the corner cafe and bought a sandwich and liter of water and well...I started walking...passing through the famous pilgrim archway out of the old city. Within minutes I was climbing a steep road sweating and out of breath. I stopped at the top of one hill looking at little houses and albergues and thinking:  "WHAT THE (*&*# IS THIS?" This totally sucks. Then I just started belly laughing at how hard it already was by myself climbing steep incline after steep incline. Within the first hour of walking, and after passing a few slow walkers, I made pace with a young Swede, named Camilla. We soon forgot we were struggling up hills and we started talking about how we were going to help each other find vegetarian options at the next stop. Camilla is a Swedish language and Religious Studies high school teacher switching to being a school librarian. (Teaching is a tough gig...even in Sweden.) She had done a practice hike across the first 3 days of the Camino with her sister last year in preparation.
During that first day, we bought cheese at the top of the mountains from a local. It is the best cheese I've ever had. He even stamped my credencial for reaching his cheese stand. There were the most beautiful views in all directions and I can tell you that things look even more beautiful when you work for them.
 The sun was getting hotter, inclines getting steeper, and somehow I was stepping over the French border into Spain (or Navarra depending on who you are talking to.) The descent in the mid-day heat was a hobble of penguin steps down slippery rocks. 
The first day's destination is in Roncesvalles. All that is there is a monastery, a beautiful 13th century building that runs a very organized operation taking in hundreds of pilgrims everyday. I bunked in a little section with a Korean woman underneath my bunk and a Spanish mother and daughter who were sending their packs along ahead of them each day. That felt like cheating to me so I am not tempted to pay for that service. I'm gonna stick with the heat rash on my back where my huge pack sits. 
Camilla was one section over in the bunks. Our unspoken rule was that we were doing everything together now.
After the best shower of my life, we "barhopped" over to the two bars on the one street town, eating french fries and "Claras" (light beer and lemon soda) at the first one and pasta and wine at the second. The Pilgrim menu at the monastery was not vegetarian friendly so we went the a la carte option happily replenishing our electrolytes and losing them at the same time with alcohol.

The Pilgrim Purge

As sort of planned, I got rid of a few items of clothing I had been wearing in Paris. One pair of jeans, a pair of running shorts I've probably run a few thousand miles in, a pair of old socks, and a notebook with my used pages torn out of it. I carried those things over the Pyrenees and now I was so proud to get rid of them. There are donation piles where pilgrims leave things they don't need and other pilgrims can take something they might want. Is there a local Spaniard rocking my running shorts somewhere?! 

"This is not Spain" Hiking Basque Country, Camino de Santiago

Day 2: Roncesvalles to Zubiri, Population 200

Border between France and Spain, Camino de Santiago, Pyrenees Mountains 

Day 2: Roncesvalles, pop. 30-Zubiri-population 200
21.9km
I've decided that starting the Camino is a bit like the first day of school. You don't know who to talk to, you don't have any friends yet, you are constantly checking the signs to make sure you're walking the right way, and you are not sure which pilgrim is in which group yet.
The second day included quite a lot of inclines again and the heat was unbearable in the last few miles. 
It's nice to have upbeat Camilla the Swede to quote Pippi Lonstocking when your feet start to ache in the heat. She talked about how Pippi would always look on the bright side of things. "Our muscles are sore but at least we have muscles." Camilla also taught me a mountain climbing song in Sweden. I have it recorded and it entertains me to no end to sing in a foreign language.
I thought I was a really light packer but for some reason I have become the girl that walks with everything on the Camino. My mochilla, the backpack and I, have had to get to know each other really well. After a few kilometers in on the second day, I pulled a few straps tighter and I think I started floating on the trail. Wearing a pack is all about pulling the right strings. Your backpack is like your horse and you have to learn how to balance weights and where to pull in the reigns...but now that I think about it, are you your backpack's horse?

Our second day's accommodations were in a teeny tiny town and we opted for the cheapest "albergue municipal." I would soon learn that most albergues have coed bathrooms...at this municipal hostel they had separate showers for men and women but there were no shower doors. "I want to take you to the Yyyyyy-M-C-A!" Leave your modesty at home everybody!

After another adventurous shower, Camilla and I joined a German girl, Sylvia, at the river. I mentioned I knew yoga and I began my first international class of yoga by the river with Camilla and Sylvia.

Day 3: Zubiri to Pamplona, Population 200, 000

Day 3: Zubiri-Pamplona-population 200,000
20.9km
We continued through the hills of Navarra passing some industrial buildings that jolted us out of the rustic medieval pilgrim path. There is an option to follow the green dotted lines in our guide book for the scenic routes so we opted to take the one towards an 11th century church run by an order of friendly nuns. After climbing an extremely steep hill, sure enough, Camilla and I were greeted by a grinning nun sporting sensible sandals and slacks. She offered us water and a photocopied pilgrim prayer in our language. Sitting on the little steps outside the tiny church, panting and reading the prayer, she invited us in to view the 16th century retablo behind the altar. What impressed me most though was her folder system with laminated explanations of the history of the church in over 30 languages. They were neatly collated alphabetically by language across the back church pew. That is some organized lamination to impress any teacher.

The "Om" of the West

Beginning the Camino de Santiago, just 790 kilometers to go

We were then invited to climb to the top of the church spire and ring the bell, just once, for our prayers, waiting 30 seconds between each of our bells to let it ring out. An Italian couple (whose identity you will learn later!) joined us in the bell tower and we each stood and witnessed each other's bell ringing. It was really special. It's the "om" of Western of civilization.
When we entered the outskirts of Pamplona, I was not only shocked by people walking by without a large backpack on, but how many buildings there were in close proximity. I was gone for 3 days from big towns and I was already out of it. The sign outside la farmacia displayed the temperature at 34 degrees Celsius, aka a million Fahrenheit.

The albergue in Pamplona is where I met the very American KathyJo from Minnesota. She is a pediatric nurse in her 50s doing the Camino for the 3rd time and here this time to train to be a hospitalera. These are the people who volunteer to run the albergues for the pilgrims. Within 5 minutes of knowing her, we were putting our clothes in the same washing machine. We had detailed conversations about how our packs get lighter because we start getting rid of things we don't need. I started bragging about the pair of jeans and what not I left in Roncesvalles. She just shook her head and said she wished she was seeing my pack in Santiago. I was now called heavy pack girl.

She also had a rosary she was carrying to be dipped in holy water in every church along the Camino for her sick mother at home. She had me in tears in front of the washing machines within 8 minutes of knowing her.
Camilla, KathyJo, Sylvia from Germany, and I all went for pinchos (pinxos)-the tapas of the North- in happenin' Pamplona. We were not there in time to see the running of the bulls (that happens July 6), which is opposite of the "Camino feeling" but we did see the barricades going up around the city hall building and through the streets where spectators hide or look out from. I love how people buy drinks and pinxos and sit on the ground in the middle of the street in circles. The street is the Pamplona living room.

Bell tower, Camino de Santiago, Spain

Day 4: Pamplona to Puente La Reina

Day 4: Pamplona to Puente La Reina
23.8km
I had already spent 72 continuous hours with Camilla, sleeping, eating, and walking within a few feet of each other the whole time. I had not only learned a Swedish folk song but I also learned the detailed working conditions for teachers in Sweden. We also talked at length about linguistics. Her English and Spanish are way better than mine. I could not identify animals in English that she was pointing out to me.
I will say when we went to dinner in Puente La Reina with a table full of Spanish pilgrims, I made a really great joke in Spanish. So there.

The walks also get really intense in the last couple of hours when the heat sets in and our water gets low. The public fountains are sometimes abundant along the Camino, but -magically- a refreshment truck will appear on the side of the road just when you think you cannot go on. Those trucks are taking all my euros in exchange for blue powerades and bananas.
Rosa, from Barcelona, joined Camilla and I on our walk today and she taught us Catalonian Songs. We were now the singing girls. During this day's walk we reached the top of the mountain called "Alto de Perdon" with amazing views of Pamplona in the background and hydroelectric windmills dotting the hills all around. 
Rosa is a great dancer and I taught her to samba on the Puente (the bridge) of the Puente La Reina.
We were just out to view the historic bridge but stumbled upon live gypsy music (100 percent natural Navarra...they were not shipped up from the South) playing in the street and I think the whole village came out to watch.
In one of the churches, there was a chapel dedicated to a priest from the town who was recently given sainthood for being martyred in the 1930s. Rosa told me to look up what side of Franco he was on. I will do so and get back to you.

Coffee break, Camino de Santiago, Spain

Day 5: Puenta La Reina to Estella

Day 5: Puenta La Reina-Estella
21.9 km
This was the first day of my Camino without walking with Camilla since she left at 4:30am to start walking. She wanted to tbeat the heat. I wanted to sleep while it was still dark out. I walked with Rosa for most of the day through more beautiful countryside and little villages. Rosa is walking the Camino for the 4th time and was giving lots of insider Spanish information about the upcoming national elections and commentary on the local graffiti reminding us that Navarra is not Spain. Everybody wants to represent themselves. Even on the Camino, while not using Internet for an entire week, I got word of Britain leaving the EU. It was some good craic hearing what the Irish pilgrims were going to do now that the British pound was plummeting.

Footcare is key

Secret Hiking Weapon: Diaper Cream, applied twice daily.

But this is the point where foot talk gets real. Bring on the diaper cream, everybody! Keep those chapped toes dry! Upon reaching Esterra I came to grips with the fact that I did indeed develop teeny blisters on my pinky toes. It also just so happened that the snoring Marco Vader had reserved a spot next to my bed at the same albergue that day. (Pilgrims run into each other day after day from town to town.) I take back every bad thought I had about Marco because he happily took a needle and thread to my toes (with antiseptic). The thread is to help drain the blisters. I walked to dinner with thread hanging out of my toes. I wore compeed (second skin) the next day with some extra bandaids on those toes.  If anyone is into blister popping videos, I have a great one, narrated with Italian. Just ask. I do realize that some of you who subscribed to this email were not signing up for exclusive blister-draining footage. So it's not included here but it is so tantalizing to watch. Foot care solutions are 40% of what we talk about. There is another 40% about food options and the rest is about why you are walking the Camino. I offered to buy Marco Vader a copa de vino for his blister assistance but he was very happy to just hear my story of "El Diente de Sarah"- The Tooth of Sarah-in Spanish instead. 
Another reason to like Marco Vader: When I reintroduced myself as Jean como Blue Jeans, as I usually do to clarify pronunciation, he responded, "no, you are Jean like Gin-Tonic." 

I have had a good amount of time in the evening to work on some of my drawing series. When people ask me why I am doing the Camino, I now tell them I came to draw. It is my walking artist residency. That seems to satisfy most people, including myself. 

Travel Sketchbook and iPad on the Camino de Santiago.

Day 6: Estella to Los Arcos

Day 6: Estella - Los Arcos
21.5 km
In my continued effort to lighten my load without paying ridiculous sums to ship things ahead to Santiago, at 6:30am, I tried to give away my purse to a Spanish girl on the Camino. She agreed to stow it in her bag and send it ahead in a taxi. I think she just got a new purse and doesn't know it yet. I also tossed out another pair of pants I didn't really need. Pilgrims talk about how many ounces objects weigh and those were some hefty ounces to unload. So liberating!

Wine and Hiking Come Together at last!

Free wine for Pilgrims on the Camino

It was a first in my 5 day routine to set off on my own without Camilla or Rosa. I soon found Dourmid from Dublin (I'm not spelling his ridiculous Irish spelling right and I can't be bothered to fix it.) It is strange to walk several miles with people you just met but we got along just fine and shared the experience of filling our water bottles from the well known Fuente de Vino in Irache. The 10th century monastery connected to it is now vacated, but the winemakers remain and let pilgrims drink free wine from 7-9am. Free wine is almost always delicious but this was extra delightful. Wine before coffee...never been...toffee? Laugh-y? Kadafi?

We continued through beautiful countryside and because of my amazing blister remedies, was practically skipping into the next town. It is now Sunday and I'm checking emails for the first time in a week in the kitchen of the albergue municipal, drinking the rest of the wine from Irache from my water bottle, watching the familiar faces from the Camino trickle into town, and awaiting a foot massage from a Brazilian who drives in from the next town over to give pilgrims foot massages everyday. 
This is my last night in Navarra before heading to the Logroño region tomorrow. Rosa and I have plans to taste the liquor local to the region. 

Yours truly, Heavy Pack Girl Jean-Tonic

Daily Laundry Ritual on the Camino

Follow to Part 2 of  the next stages of the Camino...Pre-Camino Travels | Camino Part 1 | Camino Part 2 | Camino Part 3 | Camino Part 4 | Camino Part 5