A day of ups and downs ......

Off I go on the Camino proper!

 And what a day of mixed emotions it has been … and a very steep learning curve. I will expand.

 I got up late apparently, 6.30 and already there were people closing doors slowly as they set off walking. I’d planned a leisurely breakfast at 7 – I’d paid my 5 euros for it, I was going to have it – not that it would have fuelled me very far if I had been walking, but the coffee was welcome.

I rode to the accepted start point – the Porte d’Espagne for a corny photo but actually there aint’t much left of it, just the two pillars and they don’t command much respect from the local given the parking situation. But it had to be done.

First emotion – there were scores of pilgrims setting off walking and the first part of the route is a narrow, very steep  road into the hills.  As I climbed along it on a very powerful bike I felt such a fraud and so unworthy – it was hard work just riding along – I soon realised that anyone tackling the Camino on foot deserves our utmost respect. 

Not the macho image I want to portray but I admit it was scary. The road was strewn with mud and debris from the horrendous storm last night and lovely as my bike is it is not meant for that kind of terrain. I felt in the way too because it was a lovely peaceful and still morning and some of those those brave souls were on a pilgmage for meditation and contemplation which didn’t include worrying about some oik on a bike clipping them from behind.

So, 30 minutes after setting off on a trip I’d dreamed of for several years I was thinking I can’t do this, and even if I struggle on I’m not enjoying it.

However whilst the feeling  of respect grew over the day the apprehension and the sense of being in the way evaporated as the number of walkers declined and the Camino decided to head for the hills on occasions.

I actually began to enjoy the ride and relaxed enough to enjoy views like this …

My euphoria was short lived, as I crossed the border into Spain it began to rain – and no, at that stage not a plain in sight which shoots another myth down. I stopped to put a cover on my tank bag behind a guy who I think was Japanese and told me he was cycling all the way to Santiago.

 I found that hard to believe given his lack of kit but he kept insisting it was “a big deal, a big deal” and he had to get on as he wrapped himself in a cling-film mac and pedalled manically away. I wonder where he is tonight.

It became clear that the Camino ran along paved roads for more of its length that I realised with signs warning drivers – and riders – that there would be walkers in the road.

Other signs then guided the walkers down tracks which initially appeared inviting but as the rain cleared and the day grew hotter, the hills and forests receded and the plains opened up it would be a toss-up for me whether I stayed on the tarmac or took to the barren landscape with an horizon which seemed a heart-breaking distance away. 

The road at those times took on a similarity to iconic photos of Route 66.

I’m struggling a bit with the language. On a bike “Una cerveza grande por favour” has its limitations.  I do try though and spent time rehearsing the Spanish for goat  “ cabra” – no not in relation to “possible friendship and more” but because I like the cheese.  When I plucked up courage to try it out the very nice waitress told me I was in Basque country and it is “ahuntz”.  The sarnie was still good though.

As towns came into view their dramatic skylines just presented one Kodak moment – remember them – after another. That the reality on getting closer didn’t always meet the expectation says a lot about Spanish planning law.

Pamplona came and went ...

Some though did deliver….

... and stopping for one “moment” I noticed a couple of house doors had similar varieties of dried flowers tied  to them.

My nerdy research reveals that they are the dwarf thistle (Carlina acaulis) created by the Supreme Creator Amular to brighten up the world when the sun and moon were rising and setting. Basque folklore suggests that they serve as protection and bring good luck.  Gets my vote …

You’ll be impressed to learn I hope that I actually got off my bike and walked a section of the Camino today. Yes, well I did, this bit.



Why, well I wanted to experience one of the delights of the Camino – other than bed-bugs and blisters – The Wine Fountain.

No, this is not another myth to be busted, it’s there and you can fill your boots, or your water bottle although traditionally (if creation in 1991 can be considered traditional) you should use your Scallop shell. Well, mine was in my bike 300 yards away ( I didn’t say I walked far!) so I used my water bottle.

The wine was exceptionally good but as it comes directly out of the Bodegas Irache winery it would be pretty bad advertising to put rubbish out there.I honestly only got a mouthful as I was riding but obviously some have taken advantage as there is now a webcam aimed at the fountain. A great experience though and another “to do” ticked off.

Arrived at my digs for the night in Navaterre in the Rioja region and again eschewing the “real deal” hostel experience I’ve paid pence extra for my own room. Got three beds in it though with pillows marked, “Be Happy”, “Laugh" and “Love”. 

I asked for reassurance that I was getting the room to myself and the hostess said “Yes, unless you want otherwise”. She obviously does not know of my “Friends” issue.

More importantly she let me put my bike in a barn for the night.

                           Mind you,on reflection, perhaps motorcycle maintenace is her forte ...       

Rode 206  km today and covered a walking distance along the Camino of 170km odd so you can see how the Camino custs cornes.




Here's where I am, 

                                                                     well by the time you read this proably in a local bar .....