Day 3: Roncesvalles to Zubiri
The municipal Albergue in Roncesvalles contains bunkbeds in quads for 180 people. I am fairly sure it was full the night we stayed there. With the snoring, coughing and restlessness of all the pilgrims, it was a fitful night of sleep. Not to mention the adrenaline for the journey ahead was still pumping through my system. When I awoke for the umpteenth time and checked my phone, it was 6:00 AM. In the early days I thought this was the time to get up and go, and so I rolled out of bed to hit the restroom and brush my teeth. When I returned to the bunk, Leo was awake and packing his backpack. I packed mine as well, and we went downstairs to find our boots and some vending machine coffee.
This was one of our earliest departures. We were out of the building before sunrise, sometime around 6:30. Although from time to time we would repeat this early process, it would not be long before Leo vetoed that type of morning rush. Our departure for most of the Camino was between 7:30 and 8:00. Looking back, there was no reason to rush, I was just excited. Besides, going outside in the dark is a great way to get lost.
It was pretty cold and solitary when we left the Albergue. Most of the other pilgrims were moving much more slowly, and they were still inside, dawdling if you had asked me. There were large drifts of snow in the parking lot, which should have warned us there would be snow in the woods. We took our pictures beneath the famous departure sign, and then walked into the dark woods with only a small flashlight. Luckily behind us came a young Asian lady with a large headlamp, and we filed in line behind her. She may have been afraid of the two men following her, but within moments we were a merry group of seven, all following the one woman in the dark, with no yellow arrows and drifts of snow.
Eventually we exited out of the woods onto some farmland, and in the distance we could see the lights of a coffee shop, a beacon for cold, hungry pilgrims. We were not the first to arrive, but almost. However, after a breakfast of fruit, Danish, freshly squeezed OJ and coffee, the sun had begun to crest the horizon and the flow of pilgrims through the tiny café was steady.
So much of the previous day had been spent in the woods, this day would give us our first real taste of the Camino experience: Walking through the countryside, then into a village, walking through the countryside, then into a village. Sometimes there were people about, and sometimes the village would seem completely deserted.
Our first village was not very far after the coffee shop. The small and beautiful town of Burguette. The most notable event there was that Leo and I missed our turn and continued to walk straight. Luckily a man shouted at us and waved us back the way we had come. Sure enough, we had missed the arrows that were prominently painted on the street. Yes, it was only Day 2 but we this was the second time we would be lost. We had not gone too far though, and retracing our steps was easy. Down a small hill, and through a farm (yes, right through the center of the farm yard), and off we would go.
Our bodies were already hurting from the torturous climb the day before, and the descents followed by more steep inclines only made our bodies hurt more. At one point my left foot began to hurt so much that I gained a prominent limp. I could not believe the pain would start so early on my Camino. Eventually a German man named Ogin would come to my rescue. He asked where it hurt, and when I showed him, he told me my shoe was tied too tight. This went against everything I had been told, but I followed his instructions and loosened the laces all the way to the toes. I had immediate relief. For the next few weeks, every time I tried to tie that lace, my foot would hurt, so I kept my left boot loose through the entire trip.
At the top of the Alto de Mezquiriz we would catch Roberto (France) and Yentz (Germany). We would not see either of them again in our journey. Of the five from the first night in St Jean, we had now said goodby to Sophia, Roberto and Yentz.
My notes say that it was a warm day, but I remember a combination of sun and drizzle, warm and cold. The descent into Zubiri would be our first taste of what a “long descent” could mean. This time it was miles of wet shale that never seemed to end. This is also when we became aware of the Family Fearn, as we began to cross and re-cross one another’s path. At one point as they rested< I pointed out the windmills that were distant on the horizon. We would be there in two days. The kids seemed excited.
By the time we hit the bottom of the mountain, Leo and I were both done. We crossed the Puenta de la Rabia (Bridge of Rabies) into Zubiri and took the first Albergue available. The Hospitalero did not speak English, but we were able to get a room with four beds. We thought most of the day that we would have the room alone, but later that night we would share the room with Patrick, a grad student from Alaska, and Terry, his father. The bathrooms were typical American bathrooms with one toilet and one shower, and Leo and I took advantage of that opportunity before other pilgrims arrived. We also were able to have our dirty laundry washed. Yes, Day 2 and we thought we had enough to justify laundry. We were such newbies.
Leo wanted to get away from the pilgrim’s menu and discover some traditional Spanish foods, so despite being exhausted, we trudged to the far end of town, far away from the Camino trail, to a restaurant recommended by another pilgrim. As I recall, Leo had something delicious and I had the pilgrim’s meal after all. The fun part is that we ran into Maria and Mariah, the two Irish ladies from yesterday. They joined us for dinner and we shared a few laughs. We also got a look at their blisters, and realized as bad as our bodies might hurt, we were in better shape than some other pilgrims. On another note, at a table near to us sat a young couple, Kevin (?) and Alice, also from Ireland. They were two of the people who had done shots with us the previous night. They would play a role in our future days.
We returned to the Albergue to find Patrick and Terry already asleep in the beds, despite it being so early. (I say asleep, but Terry was having heart palpitations and he was up all night, texting his doctor in the states.) Leo and I went to the dining area to share a bottle of wine with our friend Glaucia, who we met yesterday as well. And then we were off to another fitful sleep.
The municipal Albergue in Roncesvalles contains bunkbeds in quads for 180 people. I am fairly sure it was full the night we stayed there. With the snoring, coughing and restlessness of all the pilgrims, it was a fitful night of sleep. Not to mention the adrenaline for the journey ahead was still pumping through my system. When I awoke for the umpteenth time and checked my phone, it was 6:00 AM. In the early days I thought this was the time to get up and go, and so I rolled out of bed to hit the restroom and brush my teeth. When I returned to the bunk, Leo was awake and packing his backpack. I packed mine as well, and we went downstairs to find our boots and some vending machine coffee.
This was one of our earliest departures. We were out of the building before sunrise, sometime around 6:30. Although from time to time we would repeat this early process, it would not be long before Leo vetoed that type of morning rush. Our departure for most of the Camino was between 7:30 and 8:00. Looking back, there was no reason to rush, I was just excited. Besides, going outside in the dark is a great way to get lost.
It was pretty cold and solitary when we left the Albergue. Most of the other pilgrims were moving much more slowly, and they were still inside, dawdling if you had asked me. There were large drifts of snow in the parking lot, which should have warned us there would be snow in the woods. We took our pictures beneath the famous departure sign, and then walked into the dark woods with only a small flashlight. Luckily behind us came a young Asian lady with a large headlamp, and we filed in line behind her. She may have been afraid of the two men following her, but within moments we were a merry group of seven, all following the one woman in the dark, with no yellow arrows and drifts of snow.
Eventually we exited out of the woods onto some farmland, and in the distance we could see the lights of a coffee shop, a beacon for cold, hungry pilgrims. We were not the first to arrive, but almost. However, after a breakfast of fruit, Danish, freshly squeezed OJ and coffee, the sun had begun to crest the horizon and the flow of pilgrims through the tiny café was steady.
So much of the previous day had been spent in the woods, this day would give us our first real taste of the Camino experience: Walking through the countryside, then into a village, walking through the countryside, then into a village. Sometimes there were people about, and sometimes the village would seem completely deserted.
Our first village was not very far after the coffee shop. The small and beautiful town of Burguette. The most notable event there was that Leo and I missed our turn and continued to walk straight. Luckily a man shouted at us and waved us back the way we had come. Sure enough, we had missed the arrows that were prominently painted on the street. Yes, it was only Day 2 but we this was the second time we would be lost. We had not gone too far though, and retracing our steps was easy. Down a small hill, and through a farm (yes, right through the center of the farm yard), and off we would go.
Our bodies were already hurting from the torturous climb the day before, and the descents followed by more steep inclines only made our bodies hurt more. At one point my left foot began to hurt so much that I gained a prominent limp. I could not believe the pain would start so early on my Camino. Eventually a German man named Ogin would come to my rescue. He asked where it hurt, and when I showed him, he told me my shoe was tied too tight. This went against everything I had been told, but I followed his instructions and loosened the laces all the way to the toes. I had immediate relief. For the next few weeks, every time I tried to tie that lace, my foot would hurt, so I kept my left boot loose through the entire trip.
At the top of the Alto de Mezquiriz we would catch Roberto (France) and Yentz (Germany). We would not see either of them again in our journey. Of the five from the first night in St Jean, we had now said goodby to Sophia, Roberto and Yentz.
My notes say that it was a warm day, but I remember a combination of sun and drizzle, warm and cold. The descent into Zubiri would be our first taste of what a “long descent” could mean. This time it was miles of wet shale that never seemed to end. This is also when we became aware of the Family Fearn, as we began to cross and re-cross one another’s path. At one point as they rested< I pointed out the windmills that were distant on the horizon. We would be there in two days. The kids seemed excited.
By the time we hit the bottom of the mountain, Leo and I were both done. We crossed the Puenta de la Rabia (Bridge of Rabies) into Zubiri and took the first Albergue available. The Hospitalero did not speak English, but we were able to get a room with four beds. We thought most of the day that we would have the room alone, but later that night we would share the room with Patrick, a grad student from Alaska, and Terry, his father. The bathrooms were typical American bathrooms with one toilet and one shower, and Leo and I took advantage of that opportunity before other pilgrims arrived. We also were able to have our dirty laundry washed. Yes, Day 2 and we thought we had enough to justify laundry. We were such newbies.
Leo wanted to get away from the pilgrim’s menu and discover some traditional Spanish foods, so despite being exhausted, we trudged to the far end of town, far away from the Camino trail, to a restaurant recommended by another pilgrim. As I recall, Leo had something delicious and I had the pilgrim’s meal after all. The fun part is that we ran into Maria and Mariah, the two Irish ladies from yesterday. They joined us for dinner and we shared a few laughs. We also got a look at their blisters, and realized as bad as our bodies might hurt, we were in better shape than some other pilgrims. On another note, at a table near to us sat a young couple, Kevin (?) and Alice, also from Ireland. They were two of the people who had done shots with us the previous night. They would play a role in our future days.
We returned to the Albergue to find Patrick and Terry already asleep in the beds, despite it being so early. (I say asleep, but Terry was having heart palpitations and he was up all night, texting his doctor in the states.) Leo and I went to the dining area to share a bottle of wine with our friend Glaucia, who we met yesterday as well. And then we were off to another fitful sleep.
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