From Roncesvalles to Larrasoaña
Trip Start
Aug 25, 2008
1
3
24
Trip End
Oct 02, 2008
Larrasoaña,
Navarra,
Spain and Canary Islands
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Leaving Roncesvalles I pass a road sign that says "Santiago 790 km". Quite a distance to go, and all by foot. I must be mad to do this. Loco, as the Spanish would say. El Peregrino Loco.
The route down from Roncesvalles is beautiful. Passing small forests and little villages, I hold out for a walking stick (in the forests) and for a small shop (in the villages). If I am to have a walking stick, I will find one. God will provide, I know. Until then, I won't need one.
790 km to go
Walking on a good pace, I meet Max again. This time he's accompanied by a long-haired, good-looking blonde who turns out to be Petra, his girlfriend. We exchange some words before I walk on, decided not to lose too much time resting.
Sometimes I walk alone, sometimes in company. An elderly Canadian couple, they must be in their mid-sixties, gives me a small pin with the Canadian flag on it. I stick it to my camera bag, where it comes off unnoticed during the next hour. What a shame, losing my first personal gift so fast!
Later on, I meet up with José-María again. He's taking his time walking the Camino and doesn't let himself be rushed by all the fellow pilgrims passing him. I like that, so I join him and an old Basque to talk about the Basque language, life as a shepherd and the times before Franco. We walk together for some time, talking about what we know about the Basque culture. The Basque language is very common in this area and the Basques are proud to use it.
In the afternoon I stick to a group of girls consisting of Lili, Helen and Wendy. Lili is Brazilian, Helen Australian and Wendy is Dutch but living in Spain
Lush vegetation in the forests along the way
. We all are pretty tired, so those three decide to stay in a small village called Zubiri. It's quite beautiful, with a huge stone bridge crossing an ice-cold river and a very nice private albergue. However, I feel that my personal goal for today isn't reached yet. After resting for an hour, I decide to move on to the next village.Worst decision so far. My feet hurt, my shoulders ache, the sun burns down like fire and there's almost no shade. I should have stayed. Worst of all, the guide is wrong about the distance, so instead of another hour it takes me almost two to reach my destination. As I stumble into Larrasoaña, José-María awaits me at the bridge and tells me that albergue is almost full. I stumble on. There will still be room for me. And there is.
I am completely and utterly exhausted. I can't walk anymore. I hobble like an old man. I feel like an old man. There's no way I will be able to walk tomorrow. My resting pulse rate stays high at 84 even after two hours of recovery. That's it. Finished the Camino in two days. Wow, what a record.
