Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 9

When pilgrims leave in the morning they smell differently to when they arrive. If it is raining when they arrive they emit humid clouds of damp, sweaty and mouldy aromas. They have to leave their boots on a rack behind the front door so when all those wet boots come off in our little entrance hall the smells are sometimes overpowering. The boots are stuffed with newspapers and this adds to the smell of damp.

In the morning when they all come down to put on their boots, the smells are also overpowering - Vick rub, eucalyptus, Deep Heat, Arnica mingling with after shave, deodorant and shampoos. The entrance hall always needs and extra good sweep and mopping and we spray it with air freshener.

We only had 10 pilgrims last night, from Poland, Germany, Japan, Chezck republic, and France.

The French pilgrim walked in with a Basque beret. Isa immediately started talking to him in Spanish. "Non, non" he says, "He is French not Basque." "I am Basque" says Isa. "I like the Basques very much he says quickly." He has walked from the north-east of France and has been on the road for 4 months. He has to telephone his mother every second day to let her know that he is alright. From his bald head we guess that he is in his mid-forties.

A young woman from Poland played guitar and sang folk songs after dinner. We served Marie biscuits with hot chocolate. A Swedish pilgrim tells me that Marie biscuits originated in Sweden. I remember something about them being made in England to celebrate the marriage of the Duke of Edinburgh to a duchess named Marie?? (I'll have to check that when I get home). You learn a lot from interacting with people from so many different countries and cultures. One of the German pilgrims tells me that he comes from the town with the famous piper - Aahh, it is Hamelin. He tells me the true story of the pied-piper of Hamelin. The Polish pilgrim tells me that everyone in Poland has to learn other languages becuase their language is so difficult nobody can learn it.

This morning I read some of the coments written in the Albergue book by pilgrims. One was by the guy from Belguim who, it turns out, is the President of the Belguim Society of St Jacques. You never know who your guests will be!

We had many professionals last night, doctors, teachers, nurse, linguist, paramedicas but no electricians - we need an electrician. One of the plugs (not sure which one or which circuit) is tripping the electricity. So, we have an extension cord draped behind the benches at the two dining tables, where we can plug in the fridge and the CD player.

It was my turn to do the bathrooms today. Albergue San Roque has, in my opinion, the best showers on the camino. They are roomy - enough I reckon for 3 people to shower at the same time - with a double hook for towel or face cloth, a plastic coated corner shelf for shampoos etc as well as a soap dish. Unheard of luxury in most showers on the camino. The water is always hot, the taps are easy to work - turn to the left and it is hot, to the right for cold, in the middle for just right.

The worst showers are those where you push a knob on the wall and the water spurts out for about 10 seconds leaving you with shampoo running down your face while you blindly try to find the knob and press it again. Some say that you should keep it pressed in with your elbow whilst washing with the other hand. Many shower heads don´t stay up on the hook fittings and often those that you can hook up slowly collaps downward like dying swans forcing you to hold it up with one hand whilst trying to wash with the other. (Elbow on the knob, shower head in the other hand means no hand to do the washing!) Our shower heads give a good hard spray of water but not enough to wet the goodies in your corner shelf, so unless you are going to do a pirouette in the shower, there is no chance of it getting wet. And, the water stays in the shower cubicle where in many others the water ends up flooding the floor of the bathrooms. I check the wall and floor tiles for the scourge of camino showers - algae. It might be the most ancient and enduring of life-forms but its not taking up residence in my showers - not on my shift, its not. Any little black spot is examined and vigorously scrubbed away.

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 8

We cleaned the albergue to the sounds of Full Monty again - Isa´s favourite tape in the collection. Its like doing aerobics with a mop and a broom.

"We are family" sweep, sweep, sweep, sweep - wiggle the butt.

"I´ve got all my sisters with me." Twirl, twirl, twirl the mop - side to side sway.

"We are family". Mop, mop, mop, mop - bop, bop, bop.

"Get up everybody and dance".

We walked into Corcubion where we collected a few shells on the little beach along the esplanade. I bought new glasses and we bought a few salad ingredients for dinner. We walked back on the camino trail, a steep little track between high, moss covered stone walls and between barns and gardens rather than on the road. Along the way we pick orange wild flowers for the albergue.

There were 6 pilgrims lying around on the grass waiting for us. "Give us half an hour to unpack our shopping" I said, "we will open early for you." You could see their relief. All a pilgrim really wants is to get into the albergue, have a shower, wash their clothes and relax. Of course at San Roque they can also have water with lemon, tea or coffee with biscuits. Tonight I made veg curry and rice and salad. Before eating we sang the albergue theme tune, "Bang, bang, bang - bang, bang, bang. Tengo, tengo hambre. Bang. bang. bang. "We are, we are hungry". Bang, bang, bang. I put the lemon yellow arrows on top of the salad every night and most pilgrims take photographs of them. We had 15 pilgrims so the table was full but not overcrowded. Pilgrims from Korea, Poland, Spain, Belguim, Sweden, Ireland, Germany, Holland, Switzerland and Canada.

The Korean peregrina, a doctor, had a swelling on her foot. She said that she usually has to use orthotics but decided not to use them on the walk. Go Figure?? So, I gave her a foot massage and wished her well for the next day´s walk.

There is a discussion about the Camino Frances. It is very crowded, especially from Sarria. "There are just too many pilgrims that start from Sarria" says a Dutch pilgrim. "Many Spanish pilgrims only do the last 100km, what is the use of that? And, when we reach Sarria after walking 700 kms we have to rush to get beds." A Spanish pilgrim objects. "The problem is too many foreigners" she says. "It is OK for a Spanish pilgrim to start at Cebrero or Sarria but then there are too many foreign pilgrims who take all the beds. We pay the taxes and they sleep cheap." The Dutch pilgrim backs down and walks over to the table to pur another cup of coffee. Nobody wants a confrontation.

At about 10:30pm we started tidying up and getting the table ready for tomorrow when there was a knock on the door. A Swiss pilgrim had arrived at Cee too late to get a bed at the hostal so he walked the 1km up the hill to the alberge. OK we said. You can sleep here. Are you hungry? Yes please. So out came the left overs, curry, rice, salad, bread, wine and fruit salad. Got to bed at 11:15pm.

View of Finisterre from our bedroom window

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 7

Last night we were 15. I made South African style Macaroni with cheese sauce, tomatoes and bacon. No oven, so all cooked on top of the stove. It went down very well. We started off with soup, then macaroni and salad and a desert of sliced oranges with sugar.

This morning we hurried through the albergue, sweeping and mopping. We changed all the sheets and pillowcases and put on a load in the washing the machine first thing. By the time all the pilgrims had left we were able to load the second lot of linen and hang up the first. We bought a long loaf from the ´panaderia´van and made bocadillos with lettuce, cheese, tomato and ham for Isa.

Then I put on my boots and off we went. We felt like school children escaping from boarding school!

It is a lovely walk to Finisterre and we walked the 8.5km in just under 2 hours.

"We go to the Faro first?" asked Isa. "Yes" I replied "we can eat bocadillos later".

So up we walked to the end of the world at a lighthouse on the bluff jutting out into the Atlantic. There we see two Spanish boys who had stayed at the albergue last night. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss, "Photos, photos". On the way down we realised that we would only have 1/2 hour for our lunch so I suggested she put out her thumb and hitch. A car stopped for us right away and we whizzed down the hill saving a good 20 minutes. On the way around the little port we walked through a market and met the English girls who had arrived at the albergue so wet and bedraggled on Sunday night. Screech, screech, hug, hug, kiss, kiss. Long lost family.

"That was the best night of our camino" they said. We smile, grateful for their praise. We must be doing something right!

We sat on a stone bench eating our bocadillos. "Pees" says Isa. "¿Qué?" I ask, confused. "I pees" she says. I shake my head and frown. "Aseos" she says looking at me as though I am dumb. She needs the loo.

"Niza niñas no decir 'piss'" I tell her, "dicen 'Wee'" "Oh-kay - I wee" she says smiling. She pops into the nearest cafe-bar to use the toilet. I hear a voice shouting at me in Afrikaans. They are pilgrims from Pretoria who have spotted my RSA flag shorts. We chat for a while and then Isa joins us and we head off to get the bus back to Corcubion, the driver kindly droping us off almost outside the albergue.

There was only one pilgrim waiting for us. Pilgrims always look so relieved to see us when we arrive. There is a look of hope in their eyes, "Will she let us in early or will we have to wait?

"You can come in" I said, "Its cold out here". (The wind had come up and it was cold in the shade).
"Oh no, its Ok" he said "You only open at 4pm".
"No, you come in and get settled inside."
Pilgrims are pathetically grateful for little things. When they see a bed with sheets, a blanket and a pillow, they are overwhelmed! When we say that they can have tea or coffee they look incredulous and when we tell them that we will cook their dinner and give them breakfast they almost burst into tears!!

So in came our German pilgrim who later helps us fix the washline that is falling over. Albergue washlines are usually makeshift affairs. They seem to grow as the needs arise and this one has stretched from tree to tree but it needed a stable take in the middle. The existing branch has rotted and our pilgrim finds another and hammers it into the ground with a stone. Soon a Spanish couple arrives, then a young German man who looks more Spanish than German and then a French couple. A Polish priest was the last to arrive.

I make baked potatoes in the microwave, carrots Julienne with sugar and butter, two salads and a minestrone soup. Isa cut up apples and oranges for fruit salad. We sang the house song, "Tengo, tengo hambre" bang, bang, "Ich bin, ich bin Hungrig" bang, bang (and whatever it was in Polish).
The priest did the blessing before dinner. Afterwards he played the guitar and sang songs in Polish. He has a deep, booming voice and the songs sound more like pub songs than parish songs! The only song he knew in German was¨"Silent Night" and the only song in English was "Auld Lang Syne". We all sang along as best we could. I massaged the Spanish woman´s feet and by 9:30 they all started drifting off. Yay!! Early night.
Isa and I set the table to the morning, and went upstairs to bed. Looking through the window we could see the lights of Finsterre just coming on.
"It will be a good sunset over the Atlantic tonight" I said.
"Si" said Isa.

I felt pleased for our pilgrims from the night before, they would have the experience of watching the sun dragons swallow up the earth.

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 6

My world is this old schoolhouse in Spain

It´s Monday. I only realised that when Isa suggested we walk to Finisterre on Tuesday after doing our chores. "What day is it today?" I asked. "Lunes" she said.

We don´t have a radio here, no television, no newspapers. We do have a CD player and early in the morning we awaken the pilgrims with Gregorian Chants. Once they have all left, we put on something more lively, like The Full Monty or Greatest Hits and we dance with the brooms and the mops!!

For two weeks my world is a little double storied Casa on the edge of a playground surrounded by trees. In the afternoon children come to play and we can hear them as they swing and screech on the slides. Sometimes pilgrims, bored waiting for the albergue to open, mess about on the equipment too. My world starts at about 6:30am when I creep downstairs, put on the lights, the kettle, milk on the stove, get the coffee machine going, add bottles of jams and butter to the table, cut two loaves of bread and set out two flasks, one with hot water for tea and the other with made coffee and boiled milk for the hot chocolate. Then I put on the Gregorian Chants CD and and at 7am the sounds of monks chanting rises through stairwell up to the dormitory where the pilgrims sleep.

My world has become a passing parade of transients who arrive like old friends - kiss, kiss, hug, hug (no time for polite greetings or handshakes, no time for ´getting to know you´) it all happens in about 18 hours. Within 5 minutes they will lift a shirt to show me a rash on their back or stomach, or show me a swelling on a leg or blisters on their feet. After breakfast they leave with more kiss, kiss, hug, hugs and I know we´ll never see them again - unless we bump into them in Finisterre or Santiago, then we greet each other like long lost family! Its definitely a camino-pilgrim thing - me pilgrim, you pilgrim, we are family so I feel comfortable with you and can show you my blistered feet or discuss my period pains. No strangers here.

My world is sweeping, mopping, scrubbing, cleaning. I have learned that you can´t pick up a hair with your finger tips until you have rolled it into a little spiral. There is always hair in the showers and on the floors. How come there is so much hair on the floor in the living room where nobody combs or brushes their hair? Every day the broom is full of hair. Pilgrims leave little bits of themselves behind. Besides the hat, a shoe, a walking stick, bandana or other items of clothing, they leave nail clippings, blister plasters, and hair everywhere! I swear that if I was into Voodoo I could cast a hoodoo spell on them all!

At dinner time I sit at the head of the table like a matriarch - proudly watching her smiling brood tucking into their meal as though its the last one they´ll ever have. I enjoy listening to the volunteers who wash the dishes, laughing and chatting, discussing the routes, the towns, the albergues, their various aches and pains - its just like a big family. But there are always goodbyes. Instant friendship, certain farewells.
A few will continue from Finisterre to Muxia or even beyond but for most, it is the end of the line when they reach Finisterre and you can see the reluctance on their faces and the sadness in their eyes. They have reached the land of the Dark Star - the End of the World and the end of their camino.

They are like the legend of the Abbot San Virila who stayed too long in the woods, enchanted by the singing of a bird and did not notice the passing of time.
"After what I thought were a few hours, I returned to the monastery, my home. After entering the front door, none of the monks there were familiar to me. I walked through the different rooms, surprised at what I saw, realising that something strange was happening. When I became aware that nobody recognised me I went to see the Prior, who listened to my story with astonished attention. We went to the library to try to decipher the enigma. Looking through old documents we discovered that around three hundred years before, a holy monk called San Virila who had ruled the monastery had disappered, presumed eaten by wild animals on one of his spring walks in the woods."

These pilgrims have condensed 300 years of life experiences into 30 days or more and for many, life will never be the same again.

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 5

Rain, rain, rain. It rains most days here and even though the sun shone yesterday, it started raining in the night and was still raining in the morning. I feel sorry for the pilgrims when they have to leave the warm, cosy casa and walk off in the mist and rain, but it is only 9km to Finisterre and even the rain can´t stop their joy at reaching the last marker with the 0,00km marker at the top of bluff near the lighthouse.
The Austrian was first up and left after a cup of coffee. Then the rest came down in dribs and drabs, nobody really has a sense of urgency with so few kms to walk.
"Whats for dinner?" asked Isa when they had all left and we were having our breakfast.
"It´s cold" I said, "Let me make a vegetable curry tonight". She wasn´t sure, people in Spain are not accustomed to Indian curry, but I convinced her to let me make curried beans, South African style.

Once we had done the houswork and had a shower, we set off for Cee. Corcubion and Cee are practictaly one place, right next to each other like Johannesburg suburbs. There was a weekly flea-market in in the square and streets around the supermercado and we strolled around looking at the wares. I bought a blouse for 3€ to replace my polka-dot blouse which is now only good for doing housework in, and a long sleeve top for 3€. I also had to buy some reading glasses. Somewhere yesterday the little screw came out of one side of my glasses and I couldn´t find it so I bought another pair in Cee.

Then we went off to Muxia, a really pretty place with a lovely coastline, picturesque lighthouses and a church right on the sea with enormous, smooth rocks - apparently the place where San´Tiago landed in the stone boat which sailed across the sea without sails.

We had a cafe-bar stop along the way back and I bought Isa a Martini (poor girl is never going to guess right!) but I felt sorry for her!

"How many pilgrims tonight?" she asked.

"If it rains, completo" I said, "But if it stops raining, maybe 15 or 16."

When we got back there was a lone pilgrim sleeping on the bench. She got up when we pulled up in the car.
"Wait" said "Isa "we open just now." We had lunch, got the kettle on and the books ready and I opened the door for the pilgrim. When she gave me her credential I screeched! It was a South African credential, one that I had issued. Matty had emailed me for an urgent Visa letter before leaving South Africa and I had no idea that she was going on to Finisterre. So it was "Hello Skattie, hoe gaan dit" hug, hug, jump, jump, kiss, kiss! My first South African pilgrim at Corcubion.
Then two very bedraggled young women appeared. They sat down outside so I went to them and asked, "Are you going to sleep here tonight?"

"We´d really like to," they said folornly. "We walked too far yesterday and didn´t make it to the town so we slept in a tent, and we got wet, and the ground sloped the wrong way, and we are very cold and my feet are terribly painful ......"

"Come in then" I said to them, "Go upstairs, choose a bed, get out of these wet clothes and have a hot shower. When you are ready you can come down with your credentials and I´ll register you."

They looked like grateful puppies! "Oh thank you, thank you so much" said the younger girl. We are so tired.......".

"Go on then" I said, "When you come back down you can have a cup of tea or coffee." The older girl looked as though she was going to burst into tears.

"I think I'm going to cry" she said.

"Don´t you start that" I said. "You´ll have us all drizzling. Upstairs."

They come down an hour later showered and smiling but in bare feet. They have blisters and can't wear shoes.

Then Isa got a call from Begona in Finisterre. A group of 5 pilgrims had arrived in Cee and wanted to know if there was space in San Roque before walking up the hill.

"Yes" said Isa "we can take them". Soon we had another group of wet and bedraggled, limping pilgrims to process. They were friends of the first two so we organised the rooms so that they could be together. Four were from England, one from Holland and another from New Zealand. Then a Spanish couple arrived with a friend in tow and soon we had 15 pilgrims in the house. Once all had had a cup of something the sun came out and some did washing whilst others sat inside listening to music or writing. I cooked a huge pot of curried beans but had to keep adding an extra bottle of beans, and when those ran out, a bottle of veges as the numbers grew. We made three bowls of salads and with Lola´s veg soup as a starter we had more than enough for all the pilgrims.
"We have been dreaming of a big, hearty, vegetable stew" said one of the Enligh girls, "But this was even better - thank you". We sang the ´we are hungry´song and they took photos of the lemon peel arrows in the salads. By 10pm we had cleaned up and had started setting the table for breakfast when there was a knock on the door. A young French pilgrim arriving late, hungry and in need of a bed. Out came the soup, a bowl of curry, bread and a yoghurt for desert. He said that we were angels and he had come to heaven! Well, this angel was ready for bed so I took myself off and went to sleep listening to guitar playing and singing wafting up from downstairs.

(Isa receives an email from a German pilgrim)
For me a dream has come true! I owe God and all people thanks who have helped me on this way - with dear words by her friendliness and by her actions. My short visit in the Albergue of Corcubion will remain unforgettably for me. I am very grateful to you, Isabel, Lola and Sil.

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 4

We´ve got the cleaning down to a fine art. One day I do the bathrooms and Isa the bedrooms and then we swap. We share the downstairs I sweep and dust and Isa mops and then she sweeps and dusts and I mop.

After two days my nails all started splitting (harsh disinfectant here) so I´ve taken to using gloves. After turning my lovely red blouse into a polka dot creation I´ve also started wearing an apron so I really look like Sadie-the-cleaning-lady! The albergue is spotless. We sweep, spray, swab and scrub every surface every day and the place smells really fresh and clean. I like the Pine frangrance and Isa the Lavendar so it all smells like a forest. In the afternoon we put on the coffee machine and burn an incense stick and it has a very welcoming, home-from-home feeling.

On Saturday Lola took us to Cee where we had a drink and Tapas at a terraced bar outside the main Carrefour supermecado. I still haven´t had to buy Isa a Martini because she has still not guessed correctly the number of pilgrims we´ll have each night.

The book that the pilgrims write comments in is full so Isa and I buy a new one for the albergue. Some pilgrims draw elaborate pictures, add stickers and get quite lyrical in the comments they write in the book.
When we got back to the albergue there was a "Gary Cooper" look alike waiting on the bench. "We only open at 4pm" said Isa. "OK" he said. "I´ll wait because I have a painful leg and can´t carry on walking today". So, what do you do? You open early, which is what did after grabbing a bite to eat and getting the registration book ready. We write in blue ink one day and red ink the next.
I bang my head on the pantry ceiling. The pantry is a space under the stairs - normally one would use the space for a broom or boots closet - but this is our pantry and you have to reverse out bent over otherwise you bang your head. A group of rather noisy girl pilgrims arrive and we let them in too. We showed them the view of Finisterre from the bedroom windows and they showered, had some coffee, sat on the lawn chatting and smoking. The next minute they told us they had decided to walk to Finisterre after all. I couldn´t blame them. The shine was shining and there was a good chance that they might see a sunset over the Atlantic. After the full house the night before we had only 7 pilgrims last night. Even so, we sang the San Roque - Queen song and had a great time at dinner. One of the pilgrims had a swollen shin and I offered to massage it for him with Arnica. It is a strange thing about pilgrims. He was a very well dressed, cultured man (a dentist from Austria) who brought a bottle of good wine to share at the table but left without giving a donation. Sometimes it is the mendicant pilgrim who drops a coin in the box who is the most grateful. Lola has offered to take us to Muxia tomorrow which about 18 kms from Corcubion. Another day in paradise!

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 3

We are in Santiago!
Isa´s friend offered to bring us after we had done our chores and with only a few pilgrims it didn´t take too long to tidy beds, mop floors and clean showers and toilets. I put on Gregorian Chants at 7am to wake the pilgrims and they came down to breakfast with a smile on their faces!

Yesterday a Polish pilgrim left 10 eggs in a box which he didn´t want to carry to Santiago so I boiled them for our pilgrims for breakfast. I did a few extras which I´ll use in a potato salad for tonight. We each got hug hugs and muchas gracias´s from all the pilgrims. It started off misty and raining in Corcubion and this might mean that we will have more pilgrims tonight. Will have to wait and see.

The return journey to Corcubion was misty and rainy.

"How many pilgrims do you think we will have tonight?" asked Isa.

"14" said Lola.

"Completo" I replied.

"No Sil, not completo, maybe 18" said Isa.

When we arrived at the albergue there were 9 pilgrims waiting for us - all wet and cold , including a family with two young boys - so we let them in early, registered them and let them upstairs to shower and settle in. Then two arrived, then 1, then 3 more and by 5:30pm we were completo with one pilgrim looking really sick. Isa gave him water and his companion led him upstairs. He told me in the morning that he had walked 40km to Santiago, felt tired and headachy but still celebrated with his friends until the early hours and then didn´t drink much water the next day when he walked another 40km. He was probably hung-over and dehydrated!

I wrote a sign for the door - Completo, Full, sorry! but still they came. It was terrible to turn them away. It is another 9km to Finisterre and a long downhill 1km back to Corcubion. (No pilgrim likes to go backwards, ever.) One poor pilgrim was most distressed so we arranged for a taxi to fetch him, take him to the hostal in Cee and bring him back to the albergue so he could continue walking the next day. A third pilgrim arrived, saw the sign on the door and turned disconsolately away. I don´t know whether she walked on or turned back. Turning pilgrims away is hard - it really sucks!! Especially when it is late, cold and wet and there isn't anywhere close by to go to.

Dinner was salad, macaroni with Chorizo (Salsa for the vegetarians) and melon for desert. Pilgrims keep telling us that they are hungry. "I am so hungry" says one. "Ich bin hongrig" "Tengo hambre". I borrowed an idea from the albergue at Granon and suggested they join the San Roque Albergue choir and sing for their supper . To the tune of "We will rock you" they clapped their hands and banged on the table singing in their various languages. I start them off in English. Clap, clap, Bang - clap, clap, bang "We are... we are hungry" bang, clap, clap bang. "Tengo, tengo....hambre" bang, clap clap bang "Ich bin... ich bin hungrig". Queen would have been proud of them!

While we were eating Isa asked me if I was a Catholic. "No, I am a Buddhist" I said. "Que? What?" she looked positively shocked. "A Buddhist" I said. She laughed until the tears were rolling down her cheeks. The word for prostitute in Spanish sounds very similar to Buddhist in English and it seemed I was proudly telling her that I was a prostitute!! We had to share the joke but it was lost on so many different nationalities - Korean, Dutch, Italian, French, German, Dutch - there was even an Aussie there but he was hard of hearing so didn´t catch the whole story. There wasn´t much food left and after the meal one of the Dutch pilgrims sang a song that he had sung in the church at Santiago. Some of the pilgrims helped wash the dishes - bonus. One would think that with 20 pilgrims and a good home cooked meal the donations would be generous but they left less than the 7 pilgrims we´d had the night before. Once again we set out the plates and cups for breakfast and we finally got to bed at 11:30pm.

Breakfast at San Roque

Hospitalera in Corcubion - Day 2

Isa and I share a small room. There are two beds, a bedside table and a desk. No cupboard to hang clothes so they hang on hook on the walls.
I am an early riser so I got up quietly at 6h00 and crept downstairs to put on the kettle, the coffee, boil the milk and cut the bread for breakfast. Isa came down soon after and we put out jams, biscuits and melba toast for breakfast. One by one the pilgrims came down heading for the coffee machine or the hot milk to make chocolate - ColaCao. One of the pilgrims who had looked really tired the night before and who didin´t participate in the singing or conversations was decidedly perky! He put on Dire Straits CD(Masters of Swing?) and was bobbing and boogeying to the music. I joined him and we did a synchronized hand jive at the head of the table to much applause from the pilgrims! We managed to get them all out and on their way by 9am and then started cleaning. I told Isa that I would do upstairs so I started by straightening all the beds, folding blankets, dragging a big plastic bag around picking up bits of plaster papers, old leaflets, a couple of empty water bottles and clearing out the bins in the rooms and the bathrooms. Then I swept the floors in the bedrooms and mopped the floors and then I started in the bathrooms. I wiped down the walls and scrubbed the floors in the showers, scrubbed the toilets - yes, I really did! - and the washed hand basins. I swept the stairs down to the lower level and passed Isa on the way down. Once I´d put all the trash in the large tip-bin outside the albergue I went back upstairs to find Isa now mopping the floors and washing the walls in the showers!
!No! No!" Isa, "I said, "I have done the rooms upstairs. Completo".
She just laughed. We decided that we needed to communicate better. I asked if I could use the washing machine to wash my pilgrim clothes and we added the albergue towels, dishcloths and a few pillow slips to the machine. At 9h15 there was a ´toot! toot!¨outside from the "panaderia' (bakery van) and we grab the bread bag and go together to buy bread for the day. We prefer the fat round cottage loaves to the long bacquets and bought 4 just in case we had another full house. When we had done all the chores we sat and wrote a shopping list. Isa´s friend, Lola, came to take us shopping.

Our first mishap - Isa slammed the door with the keys still in the lock and one of the keys got stuck in the frame. We jiggled it and wriggled it but it wouldn´t budge. We couldn´t open the door and we couldn´t take the other keys off the ring. Eventually I managed to shovel it up and down far enough to get the circlular part out and use a nail file as leverage. Finally we got the key out. But we couldn´t open the door so Isa telephoned Begona who gave us the number for a locksmith. He was very quick and soon the door was open and we were on our way to town. We sat at a terraced restaurant where I had a coke and Isa had a Martini! We then did the shopping. You have to put a Euro coin into a slot in the shopping trolley before you can push it around the store which you get back whn you return it. Carrefour is a huge shopping chain and they had most of the things we needed at reasonable prices.
By 3pm we only had one pilgrim. By 4pm there were 3 and in the end we only had 7 pilgrims. "There will be another late pilgrim" said Isa. "I don´t think so," I replied. "OK. We take a bet" she said. "If there are no more pilgrims I will buy you coffee tomorrow". "Alright" I said "and I will buy you a Martini!" By the time we sat down to dinner Isa´s hopes of a free martini had faded.
It was a beautiful day and from the upstairs windows you could actually see the village of Finisterre as well as the lighthouse at the top at Carbo Finisterre. At night the sweeping lights of the lighthouse shine into the rooms and one can hear the fog horn sending off its mournful "whoooo...whooooooo..." Finisterre is about 9km away and the lighthouse 12kms away. We returned to the albergue and unpacked the shopping. During the day an occasional pilgrim will knock asking for a sello (stamp in the pilgrim passport) or to use the toilet and children come to play in the park. There was a large cabbage in the fridge and I offered to make a salad. "With this?" she asked, incredulous. "Si - es delicioso!" I said. She pulled up her nose - Isa doesn´t like cabbage. I made a cole-slaw salad with finely shredded cabbage, grated carrots, chopped oranges, a few red pimentos and chopped olives. Then I made a dressing with mayonaise, garlic salt and olive oil. It was delicious and there wasn´t a scrap left at the end of the meal. I also made another green salad and placed the little yellow lemon peel arrows on top again much to the delight of our pilgrims. This time Isa cooked a risotto and added chopped sausages. We had miniature ice-creams for desert and these went down very well. After dinner the two Swiss-German girls - Sarah-Jayne and Leah - played guitar and sang folk songs. Pietro, an Italian pilgrim, had a sore foot so I gave him a foot massage and he got tears in his eyes. He said it was the sweet singing of the young girls and the caring of the hospitalera. Dear, dear pilgrims. They all went to bed at around 11pm and once again Isa and I set the table for breakfast and went to bed. The lights from the lighthouse sweeping across the bay from Finsiterre to Corcubion was hypnotic and I don´t remember falling asleep.

Hospitalera in Corcubion

In 2007 I walked the camino Frances (3rd time) and wrote this on my blog after staying at Granon and Tosantos:
These ´donativo´refuges are run solely for pilgrims to Santiago and we find it amazing that people are prepared to volunteer to cook and clean up after us, out of the goodness of their hearts.
I decided that if I ever got back to Spain to walk a camino, I would volunteer in one of the donativo albergues. I was able to do a pilot online hospitalero course and was fortunate to be assigned to the albergue San Roque outside Corcubion on the Santiago to Fistera route. I should have started there on 27th June but whilst in Santiago I got a call to say that the albergue was closed for 4 days as there was a fiesta in the park and the stands were right up against the albergue building. I decided to walk to Finisterre and once there I was able to help out at the municipal albergue there for a day before being taken to the albergue San Roque.
..........................................................................................................
From 4pm to 10:30pm I was assistant Hospitalera at Finisterre. Well, Begoña said that I was the hospitalera and she was the Police!

Walking around Finisterre, I met up again with the two Cape Town pilgrims I'd come across at Oliveiroa. We sat on the sea front for a while talking about home, the camino and other nostalgic things. We had our photographs taken so that we could submit them to the CSJ of SA for the newsletter.

Back at the albergue municipal I was put to work! I learned how to register the pilgrims as they arrived - queues of them waiting at the door at 4pm - handed out the Finsterra document, the disposable bedding, explained about the doors closing at 10:30pm but a side gate being left open until mid-night for late comers and that they had to be out by 8h30 which is when the municipal cleaners move in. No scrubbing toilets at Finisterre - that was still to come! One of the pilgrims in the queue was Conny (the Dutch girl I´d left at a cafe bar on the way to Finisterre).

I didn´t get to bed until after 11pm and was up and ready by 7am. At 8h30 it was time to chase up the many young peregrinos who had partied at the lighthouse until late.

"I´m looking forward to seeing how you handle this" said Conny.
I walked through the dormitory tickling feet and telling everyone in a loud voice to get up and get out because it was after 8h30.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" asked one sleepy pilgrim. "This is the end, we don't have to walk today".

"So that the cleaners can come in and scrub the showers and toilets and make your bed for the next pilgrim" I said.

"Arghhhh...!!!" he moaned, and put his pillow over his head. Conny looked at me and laughed. "Tell him vee hav vays of making them move!"
By 9am most of the peregrinos were downstairs in various stages of dressing. But when I went to check for a last time, there were clothes on the folding dryer, boots under a bed, a good collapsible walking pole in a corner and other paraphenalia in the room.

"Don´t worry" said Begona, just put it in the laundry room with all the other lost stuff. I was amazed to find clothing, shoes, sandals, boots, backpacks, hats etc in a large pile in the laundry. Perhaps being at the end of the walk many pilgrims can´t be bothered to carry all their stuff home so they just leave it behind!

Perhaps there could be a 2nd hand depot for pilgrims who can't afford to purchase all this stuff?When the cleaners came I went across the road to the cafe-bar and joined Conny for breakfast. We said our 2nd goodbyes and promised to email. Then I went back to the albergue and met Isabel who will be my companion hospitalera for 2 weeks. Isa is a tiny little thing from the Basque country and doesn´t speak any English - besides ´thank you´and ´good bye´ so I´m expecting my Spanish to improve in two weeks! It is also her first stint as hospitalera so we both felt a bit nervous when Francelino fetched us to take us to Corcubion.
The Albergue has such a good reputation that we feel like custodians and promise each other to do our best to maintain the high standard of cleanliness, warm welcome and love established by our predecessors. Judith met us at the albergue and after showing us the rooms up and downstairs, where we would share a room, the showers, First Aid box, how the stove and washing machine worked, how to stack the pantry, what the general daily routine was, she helped us make a grocery list, then she took us into Cee which is the village right next to Corcubion, to do shopping. We went to Carrefour, a large supermarket where we bought provisions. They have an excellent delivery service and the goods arrived at the albergue almost at the same time as we did.
On the way back to the albergue she took me to the Correos to collect the parcel I had sent from Santiago with my working clothes, rubber gloves and On-Line hospitalero notes prepared by Rebekah Scot. These were to prove really useful in the days to come.
Isa offered to cook lentils for dinner and I said that I would make the salad. By 2:30pm pilgrims were queuing outside. San Roque officially opens at 4pm but Judith suggested we use our discretion and if it is raining or someone looks really desperate, we could open earlier.

"We prefer not to have more than 14" she said, "But if more arrive, open the other room where there are beds for 6 more pilgrims."

It was a mizzy-drizzly day so we opened about 30 minutes early. I registered the pilgrims as they arrived, 19 of them in the end - almost completo. Isa helped question the Spanish pilgrims - age, profession, where did you start? I managed with those from Belguim, Holland, Germany using my Afrikaans skills. Under no circumstances are we allowed to accept even one extra pilgrim (even though there is stacks of room on the floor) because of the insurance rules.

We soon had all our pilgrims upstairs, showered, some resting, others reading or writing. Isa and I chopped and cut up vegetables for the lentil pot and I made a salad. A couple of pilgrims helped us set the table and cut up the bread. I stole an idea from Eunate and made little yellow arrows out of lemon peels to place on top of the three salad bowls. We turned them so that they pointed towards Finisterre. The pilgrims were delighted and most took photos. I asked the French pilgrims if they would sing Chanson du Pelerin St Jacques as the oracion and we soon had all 21 of us joining in the chorus. We had made three large bowls of salads, cut up 2.5 loaves of bread and had a huge pot of lentils and nearly every scrap of it was wolfed down by the hungry pilgrims. We served wine and water with the meal and desert was yoghurt, and then tea/coffee or hot chocolate. All of this including the overnight stay is donativo and we lit a candle next to the donation box which is kept on the fridge.

There is a guitar in the albergue and a Chilean pilgrim played and sang for those pilgrims who had stayed up. Eventually we were able to sweep the floor, set the tables for breakfast and get to bed ourselves by 11:30pm. Isa and I were pleased with our first day and felt a sense of satisfaction when we switched off the lights and closed the front door before tip-toeing upstairs to get to bed.

THE PATHS FROM LOURDES to PAMPLONA

Day One - Lourdes to Asson:
It rained for two days before we got to Lourdes and was raining on the day we left. Everything was very muddy but we thought we might still be able to walk the 'chemin' paths. On leaving the sanctuary we followed a green line drawn by the woman at the INFO office.
''Just walk out the gate at the far end of the sanctuary' she said, ' turn left and straight on from there follow the conches. We exited the sanctuary, turned left and walked straight up a steep hill for over 4km before coming to the picturesque twin villages of Omex and Segus. We asked a man if this was the way to Asson. "Oui, oui" he said, pointing his hand directly ahead. It didn't look right so we dcided to ask woman in a La Poste van if this was the way to Asson.
'Oh non, non! You must go back to the Camping and turn left there,' she said. Back we went 4km downhill to the Camping de la Foret. After 8 kms on the wrong road we had a coffee and hot chocolate and asked the woman in the cafe for directions.
"It will be very muddy' she said, 'better you go on the road.''
So, we ignored the signs, crossed the river and walked all the way to Asson on the D937. We met pilgrims who had walked on the paths and they confirmed that they were muddy with large pools of water and very slippery mud especially on the steep ascents and descents.
The entrance into Asson is up a short hill. The gite is down a little side road to the right. When we arrived some men were laying out a tent across the entrance to the gite.
"I emailed about staying here" I said "we are the three pilgrims from South Africa". A young man went into the house on the left and a woman came out. She looked confused and upset and spoke rapidly to the young man who told us that they had not received the email and that two other pilgrims, a man and a woman, had phoned about staying in the gite. It only slept 4 people so would we be prepared to sleep on stretchers in the house? We had a look in the room but there would be no access to toilets and there were people working in the room we would have to stay in. I asked if we could stay in the gite, downstairs in the foyer. Smiles all round! No problem. The stretchers were brought in, we were led upstairs to look at the gite where we could use the showers and toilet. The charge for staying in the gite is 10 euro and we were charged the same for slepping on the stretchers! I opted for a mattress on the floor instead and was jolly pleased I did because the girls nearly froze to death with the cold coming straight through the canvas strecther from the tiled floors.
Day two: Asson to Arudy
We walked on the paths all the way to Arudy - stopping for a picnic lunch of fruit and cheese at St. Colone. We arrived in Arudy to find the streets full of fun-fair merry-go-rounds and stalls. I had emailed and received a confirmation email from Pierre, the priest, that we could stay at the Presbyterre. I had given Sebastien and Marie the phone number and they called ahead to book beds as well. When we arrived in Arudy Marie found the house where we could get the key for the Accueil Paroissial au Presbyterre - home of the Parish Rectory and Father Pierre Sallenave - a wonderful priest who Sebastian later described as his kind of priest - one who lives with the people. This pilgrim refuge is donativo but when asked, he said that 5€ is the norm for the bed and also for the use of the kitchen and foods. We decided to give him 15€ each as well as a little yellow beaded arrow. Marie called the albergue in Oloron and booked beds for tomorrow night so we will be together for one more day. From Oloron they go west to St Jean Pied de Port and we will turn south to Somport.
Day Three: From Arudy to Oloron
We walked through farms, fields, woods and small village roads. We stayed at the Relais du Bastet, a nice new albergue (not yet in the guide books) with beds instead of bunks. We were in a 4 bed room and Sebastien and Marie in a 2 bed room.
Day Four: from Oloron to Sarance
We walked on the road for about 3km and then took the 'chemin' path through a very wet, muddy, slippery forest. In places it was almost unegotiable and we did a 'slippy-sloshy-slide' for about 4km. Parts of the paths were then on roads but once again we were led off road and the mud was so thick it stuck to our boots until we felt as though we were on skates! When we did finally come out onto the road we dithered about a bit trying to decide whether to continue on the path or stick to the road. ¨The rest of the way can´t be as wet as the first part´we said, but it was! Val sent an SMS to Ann and her friends warning them about the mud and they thanked us later for the warning as none of them was ready for a slippery sludge walk to Sarrance. The last few kms were a combination of small roads and paths, one section in a stream bed which at least cleaned most of the mud off the soles of our boots. The old St Jacques study centre and monastery, Les Fonatines deÉscot, is about 1.5km before Sarrance and you have to take the road option to reach it. I had booked two rooms on the internet and Annie and her friends had phoned ahead to book rooms as well. 13 euro each and about 8 euro for a delicious dinner.
Day Five: Sarrance to Borce
Marion's post for this section: We walked alongside the valley of IÁrrec d´Isson high above the Gave dÁspe which flows in a deep gorge. The path was very rocky and lots of mud, almost clay earth which sucked onto our boots. Most of the day was on the mountain side. We had a mountain on our left our path then the river, then the road and then another mountain on the right. Lots of green trees and sometimes a garden of flowers. Sometimes the river was right next to us and sometimes deep down below. At times the path was very rocky, we crossed over a bridge a couple ot times to the other side. We also saw a lot of Royal eagles, such beautiful birds. Although our path went up and down we were actually climbing the whole day. At times you could see the mountains on the other side with snow on top of them. It was such a tremendous day.
My post: We covered the first 5km in 2hours, up one slippery slope and then down equally slippery slopes, sometimes almost next to the raging river but at other times high above. We finally came out of the river onto a small road and climbed up to Borce, a charming, spotlessly clean village with a St James refuge on the left as you enter the village (that was full when we stopped) and finally to the Communal Gite in the centre of the village. We had an 8 bed room to ourselves and managed to do most of our washing and buy soup and vegetables, bread and wine for dinner which we ate in the Gite diningroom.
Day Six: Borce (630m) to Somport (1600m) and on to Canfranc Estacion (1200m)
The CSJ guide describes the road route as being more scenic than the forest path so up the road we went - and up, and up, and up. For the first four hours we couldn´t see higher than the tops of the trees due to the heavy mist but when the sun did break through we caught glimpses of snow capped moutains and craggy peaks. Whereas I was feeling a bit flat and wooden yesterday on those rocky, riverine paths, it was Marion´s turn to feel like a wooden doll today. We stopped more frequently, not only because of the climbing but because the sun finally came out and was burning down on us. We climbed from 636m to 1600m at the pass. What a welcome sight and a good stop at the cafetaria for a drink and a rest. It is 7.5km down to Canfranc Estacion and once again we opted for the road rather than the steep path down to 1200m.
On the road a fellow in a 4X4 stopped us and gave us a card for the La Tuca Casa Rural in Canfranc Est. I had emailed Peppito Grillo to book beds but when we got there we rang the bell a few times and nobody came so we found the La Tuca Casa Rurul and booked in there. A charming house with very comfortable rooms at 20€ person bed incl breakfast.

Day Seven - Canfranc Estacion to Jaca
Today rocked! We rocked! The paths were rocks! We rocked and rolled on narrow rocky paths at the base of scree slopes on large gravel stones, crossing shored up landslides and scree beds. We kept climbing up and then going down to cross the road and walk on the other side. Then back again we go, down to the road and climb up the opposite hill. At one stage we had to duck to walk under the overpass of the main road above us, circle around the concrete supports and climb up the other side. On one long winding rocky path we heard cowbells and kept trying to look through the hedges to see them. And then, around the corner came a shepherd and his enormous flock of sheep and goats, many of the larger animals with cowbells around their necks. We stood aside to let them pass (it was a bum to bum traffic jam anyway!) and it seemed as though the flock was never ending. Another shepherd and his dog brought up the rear and he said that there were over 300 animals in the flock. After exiting the countryside we entered Castillo de Jaca on a very steep village road down to the main village and highway below. Most fortified towns were built on high ground and this one was no exception. Going down, down, down we marvelled at the locals who have to walk up and down this winding, steeply graded road every day.
There is a steep climb up to the outskirts of Jaca and then a fairly long walk into the town and to the albergue following yellow arrows and gold shells in the pavement. The albergue is very modern with cubicles and beds instead of bunks. The showers are good and the kitchen well equipped.

Day Eight: Jaca to Santa Cicila
We have three options today. (A fourth option is to walk to San Juan de la Pena and back down again but we have discarded that option as San Juan is a detour and not really on the camino path). So, these are the options:
(1) Get a bus at 8h10 to St Cilia and walk up to San Juan de la Pena and back down again.
(2) Get a taxi to San Juan and ask him to wait for one hour then get a lift down to St Cilia - which means an 8km walk to Arres, our next intended stopover.
(3) Get the taxi to San Juan and walk the 7.5km back to Santa Cruz and then to St Cilia.
"I don´t mind to walk" says Val.
"I don´t mind walking" says Marion. So, I ask the driver to take us to San Juan and we will walk back. It costs us 25€ - 35€ if he had waited. We pay 3€ (pilgrim price) to see the monastery and leave our packs behind the ticket booth. After visiting this stunning place we collect our sticks and packs.
"It is not a dificult path" says the young lady in the ticket booth. "Only 7.5km".
It IS a difficult path! It is rocky, narrow, VERY, Very steep and although we spent the first km going up, the rest is all down, down, down - impossible ledge paths with no hope of recovery if you wobble or stumble. At one stage it looked as though the path had disappeared into an abyss but there it was when we peered over the edge, snaking its way sideways down only to disappear again around another gully. I was exhausted at the bottom and even after stopping at Santa Cruz for a cold drink, I started to feel light headed and wobbly as we walked to Santa Cilia. "I think I need to lie down" I told M and Val at one stage. We found a tiny patch of shade and I lay down with my legs up and my head on my backpack, I had goosebumps even though it was 35oC in the shade. I think I had a touch of sunstroke. When we got to Santa Cilia I headed straight for the albergue. After a shower, something to eat and a drink I felt as though I could have gone on another 5km or 8km but by then our washing was in the machine and we were very comfortable in the albergue. (Wonderful albergue with a very kind hospitalera).

Day Nine: To Artieda
Marion's post: Most of our walking was through farm land lots of golden wheat fields with a scattering of wild poppies every now and again. We walked on a path of sand and stone lots of wild flowers alongside us. It was quite flat and again very hot with very little shade. We stopped at a little village called Martas, unfortunately no shops at all, so no coffee. Luckily we saw three elderly men sitting on a bench and the one showed us where we could get some cold water to fill our bottles. We then walked through the Lunar valley, it was quite weird, hills that are porous, soft rock, grey coloured and it looked like they had a top layer of very fine looking gravel. The village that we were going to stop at Artieda was on a top of a hill, it was quite a climb. At the bottom of the hill were about a dozen Royal Eagles flying around and whilst I was walking up I could not help but wonder if they were watching to see if I would make it to the top and if I did not would I be good food for them. I was exhausted by the time I had reached the top, at first could not undrstand why I found the day so tiring but then realized how I had perspired in the heat and had not had enough carbs and salt, also had not had enough to drink. Albergue/Hostal.

Day Ten: Artieda to Sanguesa
We decided last night to ask the owner of the albergue give us a lift 8km down the trail to Ruesta - where we should have been last night. You´ll remember that we lost 8 kms by walking down from San Juan de la Pena to Santa Cruz (which is not on the actual camino) and then to Santa Cilia. Ruesta was abandoned due to the planning of Yesa but now a few of the derelict buildings are occupied and there is a very modern albergue in amongst the ruins -and nothing else that we could see. The path today was very easy - mostly along gravel or dirt. The first 7km went straight uphill all the way to the wide ´meseta´at the top. It was then a long, winding road through scrub land, similar to the moors in England with scrubby vegetation and very few trees. We stopped at the only village between Ruesta and Sanguesa - Undues de Leida - for a coffee and coke. From there the path dropped quite sharply and soon we were in the valley walking between wheat and barley fields. A few kms from Sanguesa we passed a large stone marker that marked our entrance into Navarre. The terrain softened, with no more stark, stony hills and weird gravel formations. As we entered Sanguesa we saw our first European stork and followed his flight as he-she swooped onto a next, one of many, on top of the church. We were led to a pilgrim albergue by a wizzened little man but when we climbed the stairs to the dormitory we found it fully occupied by pale faced old men! We think that it is a group that is starting from here as we have not seen them before and none of them had sunburn! We, on the other hand, look positively burnished with brown legs and arms and sunburned noses!
We find a room at the Hostal across the river - 82 euro for s 3 bed room. We are too tired and Val's feet are too sore to walk any further so we take it. There is a pilgrims' dorm at the Camping site that charges 9 euro for a bed. Sanguesa is a tired looking town. The main street - Calle Mayor - is also dusty and tired looking.

Day Eleven - Sanguesa to Izco
We left at sunrise along straight, wide gravel paths with our shadows strecthed out before us. It is a good way to warm up. Then it was upill to Rocaforte to the Alto de Albar and Alto de Olaz with a stunning view over a wide valley that looks as though a gargantum glacier gouged out this valley millenia ago. From there the path narrowed to a single clay track, becoming a narrow clay and rock animal track which must be lethal when wet. Having climbed to the Altos it was time to go down again along a very steeply downward trail through the woods. The last 6km were an uphill climb to Izco. Albergue in the Sociedad Complex.

Day Twelve - Izco to Tiebas
We weren´t planning on staying at Tiebas. I had copied the diary of a pilgrim who walked the route last year and she said that the albergue in Tiebas was dirty and uncared for. However, we were on track for a stay at Eunate so decided to risk Tiebas.
Sometimes the camino lulls you into a sense of false camino bliss. ¨I love these kind of paths" I said to M and Val as we walked along wide gravel paths through fields and farms. Having just said that, the path became a forest path, then a double track on stones and clay, then it disintergrated into a single rocky path no wider than one boot. We started climbing up the side of the mountain and down the other, through a stony gulley, then up and down rocky, stony gullies all the way from Monreal to Tiebas. It looked the Sierra Nevada with steep, pitted sheep tracks hugging the side of the mountain, taking you halfway up the hill and dropping you down, down down on the other side.
There is a village on a hill across the valley and we keep thinking that it might be our refuge for the night but we keep skirting it, hiding from it, then it appears again. Eventually we see Tiebas - also on a hill but on our side of the valley. As we approached Tiebas we could see the ruined castle of Teobaldo 1 of Navarra. If we´d had more energy we might have explored it but we were too hot, too dehydrated, too weary to do more than follow the flechas amrailla to the hostel which was way over at the other end of the village. Once again, this room forms part of the Community Centre and besides our small room with just 4 bunk beds, it also has a large room with matresses on the floor for groups. There is no hospitalero, just a caretaker who lets us in. I find a broom and a mop and sweep the floors in the entrance, dorm and bathroom. I find flowers outside and steal a few to put in a plastic cup on the table. The place looks celan, homely and inviting!

Day 13: Tiebas to Eunate
What we will remember of the paths to Eunate is mud, mud, and more mud. There are few places to stop and even those mentioned in the CSJ guide are merely hamlets with no facilities other than an occasional fountain. We stop at Eneriz for a breakfast of nectarine, cheese and hot chocolate - delicious. We are in Navarre and pass through more and more vineyards. Marion and I recall walking to Eunate from Pamplona along a treelined road. This time we approach through a woods along a very muddy track that hugs a hedge on one side. Finally we come upon the little octangonal church in the field. The albergue opens at 4pm. Wonderful place to stay - wonderful meal.

Day 14 - Eunate to Pamplona
By the time we are on the path to Muruzabal the wind has strengthened and it is starting to rain. We take out our ALTUS raincoats for the first time since France. We are walking the ´wrong´way - that is, everyone else is walking from east to west and we are walking to Pamplona. We pass through Uterga and many pilgrims stop to ask us why we are going in the opposite direction. Many of them have pale complexions, showing that they have just started walking (we look like walnuts).
By the time we reach the rocky path up to the Alto del Perdon the wind is howling and we are being buffeted so strongly that even our sticks are swaying in the wind. The wind nearly blows us off the mountain. The rain is lashing down. It is a gruelling climb up the river boulder strewn path to the top of the Alto. We take photos of the metal sculptures and then start our descent. It is muddy and narrow and we jostle on the path with pilgrims coming up. The sun comes out and we walk uphill to Cizur Menor. From the outskirts of Pamplona we follow the large camino signs in the cyclist´s lane all the way to the Plaza del Castillo. We find our hotel and check in. This is the end of the camino for Val and the end of the Aragones for us three.