Roncesvalles to Zubiri – 27.3km (inc accidental detour)

 Top tip of the day – it’s worth reading the directions right from the word go. I set off this morning with Mirraid (my new compadre from the Murwillumbah) … not sure if we were overexcited at the wet weather adventure of wearing our ponchos, or just high on all the e-numbers from the vending machine ‘juice’ we had knocked back for breakfast, but off we charged, full of beans …and heading in completely the wrong direction.  

Half an hour later and one scenic detour under our belt, we came back to the road outside of the monastery we had stayed in and spotted what may have been the largest camino sign we have seen so far. No way of missing it really. In theory. 

Despite – or maybe because of – the rain, it was a top morning walking. Firstly through birch forests with ridiculously picturesque little streams gurgling away under hobbitesque stone slab bridges and then, as we climbed up higher (gently this time), through pine forests that smelled the way air fresheners the world over aspire to smell. 

I had in mind that a day of walking in the rain would be a bit of a pain, but have actually really enjoyed it – there is something wet forests that make them that much more atmospheric. And as long as the three layers of waterproofing held out and I still had some feeling left in my fingers all was good. Having said that, think I am also a little bright eyed and bushy-tailed being a bit of a camino newbie, so guessing the obnoxiously good mood I seem to be stuck in will wear off pretty quick if this weather keeps up. 

Despite the good mood, I didn’t quite have the same spring in my step as yesterday … in fact most of the day it felt ever so slightly like someone had been beating the soles of me feet with a brick. Make that several bricks.  Mirraid and I spent one particular stretch debating whether the muscles in our feet actually ‘tone up’ (read man up) or whether we just keep layering on more pain. Time will tell I guess.   In any case, we arrived in Zubiri at about 2pm and just at the point where we were about to toss a coin to decide whether to keep on to the next town, the delightful Paola (of the Brazillian Paola’s) turned up to tell us that the Alburgue in the next town has a terrible reputation. So decision made,  we are now holed up in a lovely little allbergue with today’s camino gang – eight of us spanning Brazil, Mexico, Quebec, Italy, Spain and Australia.  The Spanglish (and whatever the French/Spanish equivalent is called) is flying thick and fast and – most exciting development of the day – we have all joined forces and have a load of washing on the go while we all laze about with our feet in the air. Happy days!