The Way to Land's End

• Beginning Point: Zubri
• Ending Point: Pamplona
• Daily distance: 13.1 miles (21.1 km)
• Total distance: 42.3 miles (68.1 km)

The feeling of claustrophobia did not abate overnight. I awoke in a tiny room crammed with 3 bunk beds and 5 women all trying to move around and get ready to hike. I scrapped up my knee trying to climb down from my top bunk, which further fouled my mood. As soon as Laura and I stepped out onto the trail, a huge wave of relief ran over me. Being out in the open air with all that space felt amazing. 

I talked to Laura about how I was feeling and that I needed a few hours to walk by myself, just a little bit behind or in front of her so we could still look out for each other. She was very understanding. We walked at a distance for about an hour. Soon after, another pilgrim named Renee joined us. We first met Renee our second night in St Jean Pied de Port and have been passing each other off and on while hiking. As Laura and Renee chatted, I walked ahead and had a couple of more hours to myself. Other pilgrims passed by, but I kept the greetings short and they moved on quickly. It was just what I needed!

It was a beautiful sunny day. We mainly walked through small forest paths that ran between small country hamlets. However, there were still many ascents and descents. My body is definitely becoming stronger. On our first hike, I had to stop every few feet to catch my breath on a steep ascent. Now, I’m zipping right up them. But the descents are a different story. My knees ache with each step down. And other parts are starting to hurt…my shoulder blade, my left big toe, the spot just under my big toe, my heels. The soles of my feet feel bruised. 

We stopped at one small town for a coffee and omelette. While enjoying our quick meal, a cat jumped up on the table. I was holding my omelette up to bite (the Spanish omelettes are dense and handheld) and the cat took a swipe at my omelette! Chickens also milled about under the tables as we ate. 

We walked under a bridge and a man was playing a harmonica for us pilgrims. Anytime I hear a harmonica, I think of my dad who passed on in 2011. The harmonica was one of  his favorite instruments and he could play fairly well. I sat and listened to the man play and reminisced about my dad. I said a little prayer to him, told him how much I miss and love him. 

The day wore on. Perhaps it was the accumulation of the past few days, but we were exhausted, hurting and my bag felt like a brick. We also had no luck locating some supplies in the small towns, so we were very low on water and had only had the omelette for fuel.

Thus far on our journey, we had made reservations at the hostels. The main reason being that the first few days have limited accommodations and the towns are further apart. We wanted to be sure we had a bed when we arrived. Knowing Pamplona was a large city and that towns would become closer together on the trail, and wishing to be flexible in our plans, we decided to not make reservations after Zubiri. We would just stop when we were tired and find a place at that time. 

What we didn’t account for was the size of Pamplona. It seemed never ending. First, we entered the suburbs and searched out some water. But finding the water pulled us off the marked trail and we had to navigate our way back, which took some effort and time our exhausted bodies could ill afford. We finally entered the historic district where the running of the bulls takes place. I felt like I had been stampeded by a herd of bulls by this point. We had been walking for 7 hours. 

Our hiking companion for the day, Renee, was still with us. She had a reservation and we decided to walk with her to the hostel  to see if they had any free beds. Walking was excruciating by now. I was nearly in tears. Mentally, I was done too. I was short tempered and cranky. I had zero patience. I couldn’t think straight. I nearly walked out in traffic twice. Lack of sleep, lack of food, brutalizing my body had caught up with me. Not to mention the hovering anxiety of not knowing where I was going to sleep. We finally got to Renee’s hostel and they were full. We had to find somewhere else. The clerk recommended Hemmingway Hostel. It was half a mile away and when I heard that I really wanted to cry. All I wanted was to take my backpack off and sit down. But we pushed through. Laura was so stoic. I believe she was in mom mode and holding it together for me. We made it to the hostel, checked in and were guided to our bunk. I was so excited to sit down. I threw off my backpack, went to sit down on the mattress and was nearly knocked out. A loud crack filled the room. I had misjudged the height of the bunk bed and clobbered my head on the top bunk. Laura gasped. It was more shock than pain. But it stunned me. At that point, I lost it. I cried and laughed all at the same time. The ridiculousness of it all…my exhaustion, our unpreparedness, the pain, my crappy mood and now a lump on the head.  I looked up at Laura at that moment and felt such love for her. There she was solid as a rock. She was rubbing my head and held me for a moment. I know she was exhausted and in pain too, but she was looking after me. What a lady!

We showered and pulled on some new clothes for dinner. We walked a couple of blocks down and stopped at the first restaurant we saw. We hit gold. Spanish tapas, wine and flan. We learned A LOT today. There were some really awful moments in there, but we ended it sweetly.