It is becoming increasingly difficult to find reliable WiFi connections. I  hope that by tomorrow morning I can find a hotspot to upload the chronicle to the server.

The keynote of stage 11 was a crystal clear morning with dry and net shades. The sleepy town of Puente la Reina had at least a good bakery open for breakfast at 6:30am to initiate the day with the best auspices.

On a very quiet spot, crossing an ancient medieval bridge I left a stone with a message of peace for dear friend and her mother who passed away.

The road in many parts is still over the ancient Roman layout.

The modern day pilgrims appear to attract consumerism on the road and it is not infrequent to see small cold drink booths nearby the main highway. This one in particular had on display a full pharmacy of remedies for feet problems.

Ancient time pilgrims were probably already quite happy to have simple refreshments like this fountain in proximity of the city of Estella, or even a fountain that was spilling wine under the control of the Irache Monastery. It is still in operation nowadays but under a local winemaker, and miracle today is that the fountain dries up in case the pilgrim is nor buying a case of their best wine.

A very relaxing stage, cut short due to bad weather during the first part, and the need of some rest and shopping of necessities in a relative bigger village. The key features if the day were the crossing of the Alto del Perdon (Forgiveness Heights) with its famous sculpture dedicated to pilgrims of all times and all ages.

Another significant key note was the visit to the Templar Knights’ little church of St.Maria de Eunate,

and to meet a French couple in pilgrimage with their own donkey “Bebè”.

Deborah and I have developed a very well tuned walking relationship. She is a very determined walker keeping more or less my same pace, and we both know how to keep each other company almost in total silence for kilometers. While I engage almost every other pilgrim we find on our way and do most of the talking, she is more reserved and but takes most of the decisions particularly on which auberge to spend the following nights. We both still have sore legs and weak knees at the end of the day so we have to plan carefully the stops to minimize the risk of serious tendinitis.

It is a pleasant moment when we meet other fellow pilgrims that we have lost traces of, maybe in the village pub around a cerveza and chorizo. The talks are almost the same: where did you sleep last night? How much weight ate you carrying? Where do you come from? What were you doing in life before the Camino, and will you do after?

The largest majority is in a life transition moment: in between jobs, about to or already retired, divorced or widower, most open to new encounters, many not yet in peace with themselves. The large majority of “foreigners”, I.e. not Spanish nor French  are middle-aged women often travelling in pairs or small groups. Many men travel alone and cover very long distances, like if they have no one waiting for them at home.

The variety of mankind that can be found on the Camino is incredible, and for each there is a human story behind. I like to listen when anyone wants to share their stories, and I feel enriched and glad to belong here.

The main feature of this stage is the passing through the city of Pamplona. According to the guidebook, the city should have been skipped entirely as too contrasting with the quietness and the serenity of the Camino trails. Honestly I liked the city and how has been layed out to preserve the ancient past as a fortified and walled city, and the modern viability requirements. The medieval center is very alive with beautifully restored ancient buildings, hosting a variety of small bars, restaurant and cafes. The remains of the impressive fortifications are embedded now in green city parks which actually complement very well the spirit of the Camino. The few pictures I have taken shall be added later once I can download them from the other camera.

Today I’d like also to share some reflections on something that got my attention along the way.

“Worrying is praying for something we do not want”. This was noted by an unknown pilgrim in Zubiri. If I only were able to put only 10% of the energy I spend on worrying and preparing for the worst, into a direct visualization of what I really want, I guess it would be already a turning point. I shall pay attention to my inner worries to transform them into positive prayers.

One pilgrim today told me: “I am afflicted by all sort of sore body parts. Everyday I have plenty of reasons to quit. Then I hear my mind speaking to the body: “Dear body, I am not to quit because of you. I see that there is suffering, but you better come to terms with it and accept your limitations with less drama”. I was considering my own experience in dealing with pain. Was I able to dominate the pain or the other way around?

One of the limitations of the Camino layout is that, in some cases, its original trail has been displaced by modern urbanistic and logistic needs. Maybe it’s a new road, or a new residential area, or maybe the development of an industrial area. Yet the modern pilgrims continue to follow the new layout, obedient to the new way marks, often walking on paved suburban roads or facilitated trails with stone pavements. Often the layout seems to aggravate the difficulty with sudden uphill climbs followed by steep down inclines. Why is that so? The Camino teaches patience and endurance to the mind, by focusing on the purpose instead of the shortcuts.

As the mid afternoon skies turned menacing with dark clouds assembling over the Alto del Person, a small mountain range whose crest is evenly marked by the presence of hundreds of giant modern day windmills, I decided to check in in a quiet village of an unpronounceable name: Zariquiequi.

A truly wonderful day with lots of energy flowing from me to the nature and from the nature to me. The experience in Roncesvalles where there is a reception structure capable of hosting more than 300 pilgrims per day, has been unique for grandiosity and also for the humility of receiving such attention level and facilities for just 10 euro per night. The overnight accommodation is provided by brand new restorations of the ancient monastery buildings.

Lots of volunteers really are there to help out in any way they can. For 2.70 euro they wash and tumble dry a load of laundry. So you can arrange to combine yours and other pilgrims’ stuff to make a full load. Anything that a pilgrim want to leave behind is arranged on a table where other pilgrims can take in case of need.

The breakfast in the dormitory is provided by vending machines or by the nearby restaurant. The group I am walking with decided to start at 7:30 so I just took a basic selection of hot chocolate and a candy bar.

The morning air was crisp and chilling, but I took a few moments for some shots around the place.

Last but not least I had someone to take a picture of me near the famous milestone sign with the road distance in front of us.

By then I was totally electrified and ready to go. After I short while I left down neat a white stone cross a stone for my NY cousin Mary Anne and her husband Jon.

Almost everywhere wanderers leave a stone with different meaning. The recurring theme is to regain balance and the stones are often arranged in a very precarious ways.

Water is abundant and the various streams give lots of opportunities to soak the sore feet for some momentary relief.

Here are some of the co-pilgrims that are sharing a part of the Camino with me: Deb from Ontario, Stig from Vancouver, an unknown German lady with an ingenious Camino cart.

Now is dinner time. Enjoy your meals, peregrinos!

I am writing from Spain whose border was crossed today through the Lepolder Pass in the Pyrenees. It has been a very long stage with an elevation of about 2,000 meters. I am very tired and ready to go to sleep at 8:30pm. So I will try to take some picture of this amazing place dated back to the year 1000 and involved with the religion war by Charlemagne against the Saracens. It is now the arrival point in Spain of all the pilgrims from all over the world. During the walk today, I was surrounded by over 100 people doing the same effort and coming literally from all world countries, many Japanese, Koreans, South Africans, Brazilians and so on. It is the most energetic group of people I have ever seen.

We started at 7:30 after breakfast in the Auberge in St.Jean, served by the owner Mrs Daniele and her very vital voluntary assistant Keiko, a Japanese playing many instruments.

The climb was almost immediate and the valleys were full of clouds in the early morning hours.

Soon the sky opened on a scenario of total freedom with horses, cows, sheep and humans coexisting and happy to be there at once.

I still cannot sleep well. Maybe it is the solitary hostel, or it’s too hot or too cold. A lot of thoughts are free at night, being relieved from the concerns on the road and the aching signals from the body during the day. So a new thought came out clearly. Why insisting in carrying with me things that hurt, instead of letting them go? Likewise I though how times we keep holding on situations and relationships that only hurt us? I took the decision almost immediately: I will leave my boots behind in the hostel for anyone that might need them. They only hurted my feet and caused many blisters. I will continue with only the sneakers that are two numbers bigger and very comfortable. So I left the boots near a serious pilgrim stick that was also left behind by some other pilgrim before me.

Then I continued packing and was very pleased with the lighter weight and ventured out to the new day. As said, I had to skip one stage that was not planned for originally, so I went to the bus stop not before having bought a croissant and a cafe au lait. Need to admit that breadmaking is a serious business in France no matter where. It is always super delicious.

The bus stopped me in St.Jost Ibarre, from where I could reach St.Jean in just 22km instead of 40. At the bus stop I was pleased to meet a guide that walked along me for the first half hour.

The “chien”, I could not find a better name for him, has been the happiest creature on earth, and for some time kept me company showing me the way. When he seemed to be reassured that I did not get lost, he barked once and then he turned back fast as the wind till he was out of sight. This encounter put me in a very good mood.

The stage was hard as the previous ones with steep hills to climb and then fast descents into valleys often to pass water streams. My body was responding well and I marched happily whenever there was some flat terrain. Even if it is tougher to climb, I feel much better to walk on crests rather than through midway paths. I enjoy the unobstructed views and make me feel more closer to the natural scenery. So I managed to spot a fox and several hawks over the rounded hills. Unfortunately I was not quick enough to capture them on a photo.

At last my destination appeared in the distance.

Along the way there were thorny bushes of delicious blackberries which reminded me of my younger days when with the family we were picking them and carrying home baskets full of fragrance to prepare a yummy jam.

Still within the last kilometer from St.Jean I could not see any other pilgrim except myself. As soon as I reached the City gate, they all appeared at once, hundreds of them, of all colors and nationality. They all gathered at the information office forming a long line. I was thankful for having placed a reservation a l’Auberge du Pelerin, and went straight to settle in.

At dinner in the hotel I met Annie, an Irish lady who told me about herself and her motivations. She is a gardener by profession and an Irish music busker for passion. She raises the money for the trip playing the Irish fiddle or the flute along the roads of the main cities, and she would like to find enough strength from this experience to relocate definitely to Spain. A very touching story. So long for the many more personal stories I am eager to learn throughout the way.

Here are some pictures of this very cozy and quaint village.

As I woke in the magic atmosphere of St.Blaise with its yellow stones painted gold by the morning sun, I felt very good and extremely energized. Another day, another stage!

By reading some documentation at “la Gite” (French for refuge) however I learned that most pilgrims reach St. Jean in three days from here. I only planned for two, since on Monday I wanted to start the tough crossing of the Pyrenees from St.Jean to Roncesvalles. In the enthusiasm of the morning, I thought about doing an additional half stage more today and the other half on top of tomorrow’s stage.

As I reached the start of the trail I got a slap on the face for my cocky arrogance. The village of Odiarp is rated for more than 6 hours, and by right I should have gone another 6 km to reach Garabye, that is the mid point of the following stage.

Knowing already that the timings posted on signboards are calibrated on the sturdy pace of the villagers, I got a sudden bad feeling. The trail started immediately with an endless steep climb in the forest, cutting short all my scarces resources, and I had to fight the demon of failure a few times.

As comfort, I acknowledged the grace of a sudden breeze that came in just at the right time, or a small bird flying low in front of me as to show me the right path. Few times a yellow spotted butterfly touched my arm in sign of encouragement. I figured these were the tangible signs of your prayers. The countryside is amazingly beautiful and helps to refocus the mind from the painful feet and the scorching temperature. 

In the continuous climbs and descents, I made the decision to stop in Mauleon to rest for the day, and to take a bus tomorrow to reach St Jost Ibarra, the last stop before reaching St. Jean. This decision elated my spirit, but I had again to fight the laughing demon of failure. Would now St.James be angry with me for cheating? Anyway, despite the shorter distance planned, I still walked for 7 hours and by the time I reached Mauleon I was in pity for myself.

La Gite des Pelerins of Mauleon is hosted in a school, and the keys are managed by a bar owner who agreed to let me have them in exchange of 10 euros. Another pleasant surprise as I climbed the fly of stairs to the upper floor. Another very neat place, yet deserted, full of supplies with fresh linen on the beds.

Actually, I am carrying 3 kg worth of night supplies, which so far I never used. I am wondering if these are just excellent examples of pilgrims’ refuges or they will be always the same. I need to consider mail back home half of my pack, in case. The fridge has a few leftovers from the previous occupants, so I have to take a mental note to do the same on my next stop.

Finished my laundry and after a short nap, I ventured out to see the village and to look for a restaurant. The village is already considered part of the Basque region, which the Spanish still call Upper Navarra. The village, as many others so far is built high on the banks of a river with a quite picturesque look. High above an old medieval fort is overlooking the quiet village underneath, with the proud Basque flag on the high mast.

Looking to try another Assiette du Pelerin, I entered a restaurant near the river, where they asked me for my pilgrim credential before serving me a combo entree with green and tomato salad, eggs, charcuterie, and white asparagus, followed by a pasta Bolognese (with beef ragout) and two scoops of sorbet. All for 12 euro, isn’it amazing?

Financially, I am running over my target of euro 1.5 per Km so far, due to the choice of hotels of the first days. As I proceed with hopefully longer distances, and many more pilgrim menus, I may have a chance to make it.

Last amazing surprise for the day, has been the visit of André, while I was wolfing down the pasta: André is from the Amis du Chemin de Santiago Association, and came to meet me at the restaurant to welcome me and provide any information I needed. He proudly stamped my passport again with a green stamp and organized with a little shop nearby to sell me food tomorrow before I leave.

I was humbly grateful for all this attention and care and I have a growing desire to give back somehow, sometime all these attentions. Perhaps my inner discovery started today.

This stage was done entirely on the Camino trail, which means that the straight line is not the most obvious connection between two places. Still I have hard time to remember that the trail goes from church to church and at each road junction there is a mark often in the shape of a cross or a small chapel to indicate the correct way, which in most cases is useful for thanking God for being still alive with a short prayer. In those times with no GPS, the home beacon was the church bell tower, and no other building wad allowed to be taller than the bell tower, so that wanderers could see it from afar.

The trail has been partially on flat land, growin corn as far as sight can go.   The trail is on a paved commuting road between rural villages and was relatively easy to keep a good average speed despite the fierce sunshine and hot temp (31 degrees!). The tough part came later when the trail continued on a forested hillside with continuous up and downs. Even if the highest hill was probably not more than 300m, the total elevation done recorded in my GPS was more than 1700m!

Even if it was killing my legs, the wooded path was very charming through magnificent trees and with plenty of quiet streams.

I had almost finished my water supply, and despite the fact that I usually do not drink much water, I felt my determination falter in few occasions. I kept repeating to me that every minute was taking me closer to the destination. In facts, as soon as the beautiful church of St-Blaise appeared after one last turn of the path, all my strength came back at once.

This church is dated back to the XII century and was rapidly becoming a key resting place for pilgrims on the road to Santiago. The “hopital” was in facts the refuge for the pilgrim and probably at that time it was at a building situated on the side of the church.

I entered the church and sat down thankfully. Probably I was not smelling of flowers, since a couple of other visitors moved off two benches from me. Nonetheless, the charming and pretty village hostess, who was managing the reception desk in the tiny church offered me a big smile and the passcode to access the new and modern hostel situated not so far away.

I slowly dragged my bones for the last 100 meters to find a surprisingly neat accommodation, including fresh water in the fridge and some food the hostess prepared for the guests, all for a meagre 13 euros.

So far I am the only guest, so I could use the whole facility for a long overdue shower, and for washing my laundry.

Now I am sitting at one of the two restaurants waiting for l’Assiette du Pelerin, consisting on a potpourri of salad, fried egg over a pork cutlet, fries, and rockmelon. Probably pilgrims are so hungry they can devour anything the cook decides to prepare. Honestly I was quite happy about the look and the taste.

Unfortunately there is no WiFi available anywhere, so the gentle hostess offered me some time on her desktop PC to update at least the Facebook status. This chronicle of the 4th day, will be stored on my phone and will be published at the best opportunity.

I found out that Oloron is a crosstown of two main pilgrimage routes of ancient times, la rue du Piemont (GR78) and la route Arlesienne which goes south and crosses the Pyrenees to Spain at le Col du Somport. The GR78, that I have been trying to follow since yesterday, goes instead parallel to the mountains and goes further west to St.Jean.

During my hectic trip planning I totally missed out the GR78 itinerary which is not charted on Google maps. My itinerary for today was supposed to take me on a SW direction towards Montory. I finally got a GR78 map and I learned should have walked NW instead towards L’Hopital St. Blaise. This is going to be a real pilgrim’s hostel and the place as seen on the Internet is a promise of spirituality and inner peace.

To conclude my recounting of Oloron, the hotel I stayed in (Hotel de la Paix) is not worth both the name (plenty of traffic all night long) nor the hospitality offered in a quite rude and kindly manner.

Throughout the day several other blessings need to be noted:
– a few angels disguised as a couple of peasants walking along the road, an old woman at a window in an unnamed village, a pretty young lady in a bicycle, that stopped to greet me while I was having breakfast barefoot against the walls of the church in Buzy. All popped in at the right time to redirect my lost steps on the correct direction,
– the realization that in a pilgrimage you need to think like one of these ancient travellers. The path goes fr church to church, and often passes nearby the cemetery,
– as I developed serious pain in the feet, I thanked my Superior Power for having suggested me to pack also a pair of snickers. With sudden relief the change of shoes proved to be the most significant blessing of all.

Hope I will find again a wee-fee connection tonight for continuing the postings.

But let’s go with order, since today’s blessings were abundant and significative.

This morning the chef-owner of the hotel in Sevignacq, Jean- Pierre Paroix, shyly offered me the breakfast for free not to mention the car pickup service. I took a picture of him to remember to leave a stone along the road for him too.

Not long after I left, I bumped into the first sign of the Camino. I felt burst of commotion for being part of such a grand movement of people, which for hundred years before me were checking the same road.

The problem with trails is that it us very easy to take wrong turns, and therefore being forced to long detours. I shall continue tomorrow since now I am really super dead tired. Just to mention that tomorrow I shall check in a real pilgrim’s hostel a L’Hopital Saint- Blaise. The road is there for me tomorrow to take.

Here are some random pictures of Oloron where I am spending the night.