June 30, 2015 - Zubiri, España

In The Heat of the Hike...

One of the things about being a pilgrim and staying in a refugio or an albergue is that, no matter how tired you are when you awaken or are woken up by others, you must get up, prepare your things and head out by a certain time in the morning. Tomorrow's checkout time is 0900 which is actually quite cozy by pilgrim standards. A more typical time is 0800, although many pilgrims start heading out long before then in an attempt to beat the heat of the day, or in order to reach the next albergue or refugio ahead of other pilgrims or perhaps to contend with their own personal demons on the next leg of their pilgrimage.

For today's leg, we met up with Eneida's uncle Mario and with our brother-in-law Héctor, who each brought along a friend to do El Camino. They were eager to start the first leg of this much anticipated pilgrimage early.

At 0615 Héctor is ready to begin his Camino. Hotel Roncesvalles is on the left and the Colegiata de Santa María is in back.

Elvin, Mario and Eneida head out past the Colegiata.

We all left Roncesvalles together not long after 0615 and saw this sign which is a popular pilgrim photo opportunity. However the distance to Santiago indicated on it is greater by 25 kilometers than that indicated by another marker I passed much farther back near the Fontaine de Roland not far from the border with France. I am particular about these things so I won't let them pass unnoticed.

Requisite photo-opportunity in Roncesvalles/Orreaga.

We couldn't pass up the photo-opp, even as I pointed out the factual discrepancy... So after having taken pictures of other members of our group and waiting for another group of pilgrims to take theirs, Eneida and I finally had our pictures taken. And when we were done we realized that the rest of our group had already left. No worries, we caught up to them at the first café that was open as we arrived in Burguete, the next village just 3 kilometers away. While there we had a typical early morning snack: fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee and whatever pastry or bread looked best. Actually this is a typical breakfast here - but it feels like just a snack to me.

The rest of our party, who arrived before we did, left as soon as they were done. Since they planned to go all the way to Pamplona (two full stages), were rested, pumped up and were making shorter stops, I figured we wouldn't see them again today.

Burguete/Auritz

In Burguete, we discovered a beautiful village still asleep. Naturally, I paused to take some photos. It is said that this was one of Ernest Hemingway's watering holes and that one of the bars in town still has his signature on a white piano.

As almost everyone in Oak Park, Illinois knows, Hemingway was a native and grew up there, attending Oak Park River Forest High School until leaving the U.S. and becoming a citizen of the world. Had he stayed at home, would his name resonate as strongly as it does so far from home?

Well, back to Burguete...

The village looked very attractive in the early morning light. The only sound came from the rushing of cool water along a small canal on one side of the main street. In retrospect, it was ironic that this is how the day started considering that it would be marked by the start of a very unusual, dangerous and extreme heat wave and its consequences: slow progress, fatigue, dehydration and for some: heat stroke.

But back to pleasant Burguete...

Park of stubby trees in Burguete.

As I took pictures in a small park full of short stubby trees the sound of familiar voices broke over the fluid background.

It was Deni and Tamara - also from Puerto Rico, who we had first met upon arriving at St. Jean Pied-de-Port, and this was the fifth time we ran into them by chance and it was only the start of the second leg.

We were all heading out of town so naturally we continued together toward Zubiri, today´s destination and halfway to Pamplona, a much better known Hemingway hangout.

Deni, Eneida and Tamara.

The route was supposed to be relatively flat except for a sharp descent into Zubiri, and mostly along natural pathways, passing through pastures, several villages and crossing three river valleys. There  was to be shade in certain parts, so after crossing the Pyrenees, it promised to offer some relief from the intensity and length of the previous leg, as it was only about 22 km long.
 

Crossing the río Urrobi and leaving Burguete.

As we left a pasture we had to open a gate in order to exit and were instructed by a sign to close the gate behind us or else the cows could escape. With pilgrims frequently passing through the gate a cow intent on breaking out to explore the world would likely not have to wait very long before a distracted pilgrim comes by and affords her the chance of a lifetime. Since I didn't encounter any cows on the lam, the cows must not be trying very hard to get out. Perhaps they are content to remain here and are entertained by the pilgrim-watching. Who knows?

A few more kilometers on, we entered the next village, Espinal. A quiet village surrounded by pastures, hills and forests.

Entering Espinal

 The pavement marker shows the name of the village in Basque and Spanish and confirms that we are on El Camino with the two abstract clamshells.

A pavement marker confirms the route.

After arriving in Roncesvalles, which can be taken to mean 'Valley of Thorns', I noticed that the wild plants along El Camino there gave a clear warning to stay away. There were bushes with thorns and small plants whose leaves with jagged edges looked like they might be poisonous. A wide variety of spiny, thistly and prickly plants could be seen adjacent to the path. In fact in Spanish 'espina' means 'spine' or 'thorn'. So we see a pattern in the names of two of the first villages in Navarra along El Camino...

Another pattern being established was that as soon as we saw a café-bar open in Espinal we made a beeline straight to its door. Freshly squeezed orange juice, fresh café con leche and sandwiches made with jamón serrano and local cheeses on a fresh loaf of bread were the standard. The sandwiches were not only delicious but versatile as they were also portable and perfect for a quick snack along the way.

While feasting in a small plaza outside Café-bar Keler, we met a Spanish couple who had also stopped there for breakfast. When they learned that all four of us were from Puerto Rico, Felipe and Marilo told us that they had met Silverio Pérez on a  prior trip on El Camino and walked with him. Silverio is a well known Puerto Rican musician, comedian and media personality who made a documentary film of his travels along a portion of El Camino Portugues two years ago. This is another one of many 'Caminos de Santiago' which eventually join together and lead to Santiago de Compostela.

Here's a photo we took together.

Rest stop photo (Marilo, Tamara, me, Eneida, Felipe and Deni)

One of the local butterflies was patient and paused long enough on a thorny plant to allow me to capture her portrait.

Beauty in Navarrra.

Along The Way, we came across a stone monument in Basque, Spanish and French stating, matter-of-factly, that in this location a prayer (salve or salve regina) is to be made for Our Lady of Roncesvalles. This spot was mentioned in Paulo Coelho's first novel "The Pilgrimage", which launched his career as writer, and which recounts his experiences during his pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostella along this same route. In his story, on the seventh day after leaving St. Jean Pied-de-Port, Mr. Coelho stops here with his guide "Petrus", at the very spot where Charlemagne first stopped to pray on Spanish soil, to do what the monument asked and also to perform a mystical exercise of his own.

On my third day out of St. Jean, I paused long enough to take this photo and continued on.

Salve Regina monument mentioned by Paulo Coelho in his first novel.

As the noon Navarran sun shone down on us we felt its full power and the temperature continued climbing far into the uncomfortable range. Yet we pushed on, with more frequent hydration breaks.
 

 Hi, there! Friend or Devil?

In Viscarreta/Bizkarreta-Gerendian.

We continued through small hamlets and villages and after Viscarreta  nearly missed a small but quaint cemetery.

Back in time with those who came (and went) before...

Gateway to El Camino...

As it got increasingly hot, progress became more difficult. Throw in some steep, sunny climbs on still fatigued muscles from the effort of crossing the Pyrenees and you start to get the picture.

It gets steep after Linzoain!

After a bit we reached a wooded area which gave us some welcome and much needed shade.

Even the stop signs are encouraging here...

Welcome shade in the woodlands.

 El Camino has a way to remind us of our own mortality both by the sustained effort that it requires of us, the simpler life it engenders and by the occasional reminder of another fellow pilgrim who has perished along the way. The latest reminder was a rustic pyre of wood and pine cones built to memorialize a veteran pilgrim from Japan, named Shingo Yamashita, who was found dead here. He was 64.

 Memorial for Shingo Yamashita, a Japanese pilgrim who perished here.

Due to the extreme heat, we made an effort to stay hydrated along the way. We took some oral rehydration salts that I brought along for days like today. They consist of a combination of essential minerals (sodium and potassium) and glucose. Think of them as Gatorade for medical purposes. I highly recommend them as they can be true lifesavers.

After the Paso de Roldán (Roldán is the Spanish name for Roland, Charlemagne's beloved nephew who seems to have been notorious, if not entirely popular, in this area), we reached a road crossing with the mobile café  Kiosco at Alto de Erro. There were several pilgrims seated at the tables taking a pause in the shade and contemplating what lay ahead. There the following crate seemed to encourage an informal undergarment swap-a-thon and perhaps more...

A bit of El Camino humor.

Following the refreshing stop, we began a fairly steep and very rocky descent from the Alto de Erro down a slope with jagged rocks. The good news: no more climbing. The bad news: an uneven, hot and tough descent on tired legs among large sharp rocks that force you to pay attention, lest you land on one of them the wrong way. During the descent, Eneida said that she started feeling faint and light-headed. We figured that this was likely due to the sweet soda drink she had at the café which likely spiked her blood sugar level - raising it quickly and then making it come crashing down. After a brief rest and some water, she felt better and we were able to continue down the rocky descent which led down to a river. We went across the río Arga on the medieval Puente de la Rabia (Bridge of Rabies) which, according to legend, could cure animals with rabies and led into the town of Zubiri (population 400) where we easily found our albergue, El Palo de Avellano, nearby.

After we checked into a clean room consisting of  two bunk beds, a private bathroom and two small balconies looking out over the main street, it was hard to decide who would be the first to use the shower. While resting on the comfortable beds it was difficult to contemplate ever moving again. The fact that the only air-conditioning possible was by opening the doors to the balconies was not making us move any faster.

Of course, we had to take care of  our daily pilgrim chores. Get the laundry washed (3€) and hung out to dry in the evening sun, lest an overly hot clothes dryer shrink or melt our synthetic, technical clothing. Then once that was underway, shower and change into fresh clothes and investigate the local dining options.

We decided to go with the pilgrim's menu at the albergue. It was a good choice and like typical pilgrim menus include three courses: an appetizer (una entrada), a main course (un plato principal), a desert (un postre) and your choice of water or wine for 13€.

Water or wine? Seriously!!!

I think you can try to guess what I chose... There is a public water fountain just around the corner from the albergue, so that wasn't it.


After dinner the natural air conditioning cooled things down quite a bit. A rain shower suddenly burst outside; thankfully after our dry clothes were collected and brought indoors. Then just as suddenly, it stopped, leaving behind much more comfortable temperatures.


Eneida and I ventured outside to explore the town and immediately ran into our friends from Norway, Bjørn and Olaug, who we had met on the climb up the foothills of the Pyrenees shortly after leaving St. Jean Pied-de-Port on the previous leg. We had last seen them at the refuge in Orisson two days ago, where they planned to spend the night. Our hope was that they had made it to Roncesvalles yesterday, then to Zubiri today but we couldn't be sure they had arrived here given the extreme heat today.

It was really nice to see them, and as we greeted them we both noticed that there was something wrong with Olaug. Her eyes were watery and she did not look well. She told us she was not feeling well. Bjørn was worried because, although she had been drinking plenty of water, she was unable to retain much of it. This had been going on for a number of hours.

Eneida and I recognized the signs of severe dehydration and immediately brought Olaug and Bjørn to our albergue and had her sit down in the lobby while we tended her. The lady that worked there was very kind and helpful and once we explained the situation to her, she quickly brought fresh water and offered to prepare a mixture of sugar and water for Olaug. We thankfully declined as we had something more effective and I ran upstairs to retrieve the oral rehydration salts from our room.

After explaining to Olaug and Bjørn that she needed to be rehydrated orally, we prepared the solution and had her start drinking it right away. Sip by sip she tolerated it well and after a few short minutes her demeanor began to change. She started to looking more alert, more comfortable and said she was feeling better. She even said she would like to try to eat something. That was a good sign things were improving.

Due to the situation with Olaug, neither she nor Bjørn had eaten dinner and it was already quite late but the lady at the albergue told us that there was a place nearby that might still be open. Eneida rushed over there to make sure they didn't close before we could get there with Olaug.

When we arrived, we were immediately seated and treated very kindly by the waiter. It was near closing time but he assured us that the kitchen would remain open until we ordered. Olaug was able to eat something light and Bjørn had dinner with beer. Even though several hours had passed since we arrived in Zubiri, I was still feeling a little dehydrated and refrained from drinking any more alcohol even though Bjørn kept offering very generously.

 The care and concern shown by the people working at the restaurant and the albergue was exceptional. They made all of us feel welcome and supported in a difficult situation. Eneida and I had encountered the same hospitality and spirit of help when we arrived in Roncesvalles two nights ago.

 We were all very glad that we were able to play a part in helping Olaug this evening, and are thankful that she will be fine tonight.

When you leave the safety and comfort of your home behind and undertake a trip anywhere, near or far, you become a pilgrim in a very fundamental way. You are at the mercy of your new surroundings: people and places. You place your trust in others and in yourself and hope all will be well.

To close, here is a sign displayed at the mobile café Kiosco at the Alto de Erro that gives a definition of pilgrim.

Some El Camino philosophy at the mobile café Kiosco.

My translation:

Pilgrim:

Is anyone who has

a free spirit,

light luggage,

a sense of solidarity.

And spontaneously follows

the path of her dreams.

A bird resting on a branch

never fears that it may break,

because its trust

is not on the branch itself

but rather on its wings.

I dare say: in this life we are all pilgrims!



Note: This blog was begun on El Camino but finished weeks later. This allowed a more complete and detailed approach in the text and also for the photos to undergo some additional processing. In short, the heat wave that began on this day and ultimately lasted more than two weeks and the consequent fatigue made it very difficult to do much more than write a portion of the text of each day's blog. As time permits, I plan to continue posting the remaining blogs. So stay tuned!

June 29, 2015 - Roncesvalles/Orreaga, España

It is the day after crossing the Pyrenees from St. Jean Pied-de-Port on the French side to Roncesvalles in the province of Navarra (or Orreaga, as it is called by people around here) on the Spanish side of the Basque region. And after a long and arduous day yesterday I am grateful to be resting comfortably in my hotel room and to be able to take the day off in order to recover from yesterday's exertion.

Actually this was the plan from the very beginning as I expected it would not be easy to cross the mountains on foot carrying everything I brought for the entire trip on my back, as most pilgrims do. 

Sometimes the plans we make differ from what actually occurs. That usually results in a more interesting, and sometimes more challenging, situation.

For our stay in St. Jean Pied-de-Port I had booked a room in a local bed and breakfast. Upon arriving there and asking the helpful volunteers at the pilgrims office for directions their reaction was puzzlement. One helpful volunteer, a friendly British man, confessed he didn't know where it was and asked a fellow volunteer, a woman, for assistance. She examined the address for a moment and gave it some thought. As it turned out, the B&B was in a neighboring town about a half hour away on foot. This created some logistical complications we hadn't counted on. One of the other volunteers called the B&B on the phone and spoke with the person who runs it.  She told us that the lady was coming to pick us up. 

We met Madame Pascaline when she arrived and were surprised to find her to be a very 

spry 90 year-old and to drive stick shift as well as she did. She drove us and two pilgrims from Canada, a British man and his grandson, to her home (and our B&B) where we found ourselves with a tranquil view of her garden, surrounded by fields and the foothills of the Pyrenees.

Here's a photo I took with Eneida around 2200 hours and it was still light out.

Yesterday we awoke early to a heavy morning fog, prepared our gear and by 0630 Mme. Pascaline had our breakfast laid out neatly on the dinner table. 

After breakfast she drove us back to St. Jean along some lovely roads I recognized from having watched the Tour de France years before. Mme. Pascaline confirmed that Le Tour frequently came to this area but that it's been several years since they came to St. Jean for the Pyrenees stages. This year Le Tour was to visit Pau and its environs, also in the region, but a little further afield.

Once in town it was time to begin our first stage of El Camino de Santiago. In Tour de France terms, this was the queen stage. The hardest, most grueling and perhaps most spectacular stage awaited us.

The weather was ideal: pleasant and sunny with little chance of rain or storms although storms can be unpredictable here.

Our journey on El Camino started with a quiet walk out of St. Jean through the gate in the city walls (Porte Notre Dame), across a bridge and onto a street that eventually became a rural road which rose up the hills very quickly. We chose to follow the Route de Napoleon, the nicer and more scenic but more exposed way across the Pyrenees, not recommended in bad weather. This is the same route Napoleon's army followed into Spain and also traces part of the route used by Charlemagne's forces during their invasion. 

Along the way we met a couple from Norway and walked with them for a few kilometers, chatting along the way as we all adjusted to the increasing altitude.

The climb out of town became a steep climb through foothills with sheep and goat farms surrounding us and with lovely views of the valley below.

Even the graffiti was encouraging the pilgrims to go on.

After 8 km and more than half of the ascent complete, but with most of the stage still ahead of us, we arrived at the refuge in Orisson, a welcome resting place, a nice feeding and watering spot and the very last one before Roncesvalles. This is the place where every pilgrim needs to make their go/no-go decision before proceeding. The only shelter after this point is an Alpine hut near the top of the pass.

Following a hearty lunch we made the decision to push on. There was no turning back now. 

The landscape transitioned from pastoral to mountainous as we climbed above the tree line above which trees refuse to grow. 

Several times we came across a memorial of a pilgrim who had perished along the way. 

The higher we climbed the rockier the landscape became. Rocks were now replacing shrubs as shrubs had replaced trees before. 

A scenic spot on the way up is the Pic D'Orisson where a rocky promontory has a statue of the virgin, Vierge D'Orisson. 

Here I am at the Pic D'Orisson. 

And here is Eneida.

I noticed these mysterious structures in the high region of our crossing. They seem to be useful as wind shelters or perhaps as a place to feed sheep. What they are really used for is still unknown to me. 

Here's the Alpine hut I mentioned earlier. It has a barrier, presumably to keep large wildlife outside and four large wooden pieces which can be used to block the entryway and keep the person sheltered  inside safe from the elements. My trekking poles resting on the hut give an idea of its size.

Another typical view in these parts.

Only 765 kms. to go!

Along El Camino, near the border with Spain, we saw the Fontaine de Roland, dedicated to Charlemagne's beloved nephew Roland who was killed near here. 

On the descent into Roncesvalles, the weather suddenly changed: it became cool and windy and we were engulfed in the clouds.

Following a long, steep descent on tired legs, we arrived in Roncesvalles around 2200 hours with no reference points visible due to the fog until we heard the church bells tolling and thankfully found the refuge, which was already closed for the night, and our hotel nearby. There we ran into another couple from Puerto Rico we had met in St. Jean by chance. They had arrived before us and had a similar experience during the grueling crossing. 

The staff at the hotel was amazingly accommodating and even though the kitchen had already closed, they served us a warm pilgrim's meal and then checked us into a very comfortable room. 

We were very grateful we did not need to use the Alpine hut today. 

P. S. - After this stage, a rare heat wave hit the region with several days of clear weather and high temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit (41 degrees Celsius). Due to the consequent long days of hiking and fatigue I am running a few days late in my posts. I finally published this from Estella a few days later. 

June 27, 2015 - St. Jean Pied-de-Port, France

I'm going to try to be brief today. It's past midnight and Eneida and I are starting on El Camino at 0700 hours from the center of town. (That's 7 AM for the rest of you.)

Nevertheless, I want to share some of Bilbao, where we arrived last night and spent a very pleasant evening despite the jet-lag.

The first thing that caught my eye in Bilbao (Bilbo in the basque language) and led us to get off the bus from the airport was this massive canine floral arrangement. Never seen one like this before.

The dog seemed to be watching over the Guggenheim Museum in the background and making sure that the Hugo Boss models didn't get too close.

The museum is something else though...

It needs to be seen in person from multiple angles in order to be appreciated. However, I wasn't sure if it was going to set sail,

or if instead it was designed to take off and fly away.

Look Ma, no right angles!

The setting of the Guggenheim Bilbao is spectacular down by the river, insects included.

By the way, is that a White Walker spider? (For you Game of Thrones fans.)

Both eye-catching public art and stunning contemporary architecture are on display in Bilbao in droves.

OK, you got me. Not all of it is works equally well...

However, there are things here outside the post-modern. There are some gorgeous older structures around town. Here is the Ayuntamiento as an example.

And another striking building by the same river as the Guggenheim but near the older part of Bilbao known here as the Casco Viejo. 

Nevertheless, a lot of thought seems to have been given to the visual side of things in Bilbao. Here's the lobby of our hotel.

 No, it's not a museum and, yes you are allowed to use the furniture.

Getting back to the older things in town, here's a spot recommended by a local  where we consequently tried our first "pinchos" from this region. 

Pinchos are a regional dish from these parts and we were reminded that they are not tapas but they are also delicious.

We sat outside on a pleasant evening in a plaza here and ate our way through the menu.

In spite of the delicious indulgences, we were also reminded that there are some serious political and national issues here in the Basque region that need to be sorted out and which engender strong feelings. 

I don't speak Basque but I believe the poster suggests that the region is the home to ETA prisoners and refugees.

To close on a different note and get back to the stated intent of this blog, by pure chance on our way back to the hotel we came across an unmistakable symbol that marks El Camino.

It is a graphical representation of a scallop shell which Eneida and I will both be carrying with us and displaying as a symbol of the pilgrimage we are about to undertake. This one marks a portion of the northern route of El Camino that goes through the ancient heart of Bilbao, the Casco Viejo.

Finally, we arrived at St. Jean Pied-de-Port across the border in southern France where in just a few hours we begin our pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, on the western part of Spain. Our first destination was a very busy Accueil pèlerins (pilgrim office) at no. 39 rue Citadel where we each obtained our Credencial (pilgrim passport) and scallop shell and mapped out our planned  crossing of the Pyrenees with aid of the very friendly and helpful staff.

This medieval town is too charming and welcoming for me not to post some photos. Here is a view down rue Citadel 

That shows the gate through which we will cross the city walls as we depart in the morning. 

The weather department forecasts warm and sunny conditions over the next few days as a heat wave settles over the region. This is welcome news to me as it can also be very wet and cool here in the mountains, even in summer, and where sudden thunderstorms can explode the sky.

Once safely resting at the next stop, I promise to show some more of this ancient regional capital and of its inhabitants and passers by.

¡Buen Camino!