RONCESVALLES to ZUBIRI

May 4, 2016
Today — 13.6 miles
Total — 28.5 miles

We had a unique wake-up call this morning.

At six a.m. we heard music. We assumed it was rudeness; it was way too loud and way too early. Nope! It was our Hospitalero (albergue host) strolling among the bunks, waking groggy, ruffle-haired pilgrims with his guitar and a medley of song excerpts. His repertoire encompassed everything from charming Spanish tunes to “Wake up little Suzie.”

Our friend Sandy, buried in her bed and waiting for her six-thirty alarm, didn’t appreciate him. At all. But the Hospitalero, catching her squinty-eyed glare over the top edge of her bag, took her on as a challenge—and upped his enthusiasm.

It was a standoff. He had to move on, and she was awake but not happy about it. Fortunately she doesn’t hold grudges and was quickly her normal, fun self.

We were packed and on time for the long restaurant que that led to our 7:00 pre-paid breakfast. After a tedious wait, accompanied by much grumbling from our fellow hikers, we were treated to—wait for it—a piece of toast, juice and hot beverage. Yep, same ole’ same ole’.

Our decision: from now on, we’d put in a few miles and find our own breakfast fare.

It was close to 8:00 by the time we got on our way. Although this was to be a “mostly downhill” stage of the Camino, there were several extremely steep sections. But other than some distracting huffing and puffing—that would be me—we were entranced by the beauty of the day.

Picture narrow dirt lanes, often canopied with trees, slotting between deep, lush green fields. Wooly sheep and shaggy horses peacefully grazing in wide idyllic pastures.

We stopped for a bit and giggled while two sheep seemed to be having a “baa-off.” One sounded like he’d swallowed a bullfrog with a sore throat. Most of the time the only sounds were the birds and the occasional clanking of a cow bell, on horses as well as cows.

At one point I crested a grassy knoll and found myself overwhelmed with bright azure sky all around. I was all alone… For a split second I was tempted to burst forth with, “?The hills are alive…” but I managed to restrain myself.

Probably just as well; the livestock might have stampeded for the trees.

We strolled by one field bursting with bright yellow dandelions, just as if they’d actually been planted. Later there were more dandelions, but these were in full, white puff. How I wished for a big gust of wind! It would have created a monster “snow” of fluff!

Constant, cheerful birdsong accompanied us all along our warm and dusty way, their trills and chirps echoing little encouragements. As we left a small village and walked through a grove of tall verdant trees skirting a deep, narrow ravine, we heard a distant, lone bird that sounded exactly like a cuckoo clock!

This was a good, long walk—and a toasty one—so we were happy when we neared our destination. The guidebook warns that the descent into Zubiri is one of the most treacherous sections on the Camino, so we weren’t too surprised at the loose, shifting stones and tenuous footing standing between us and town.

At last we crossed over the Arga River on the picturesque gothic bridge of La Rabia into the small town of around 400.

The bridge has a legend. If a rabid animal circles the center pillar of the bridge three times, it will be cured. Hence the name, “La Rabia.”

We didn’t have any such animals handy to test the theory. Probably a good thing.

We were among the fortunate who got beds that night.

Can you imagine—after a long, hot, strenuous day of walking having nowhere to sleep? Or shower? The municipal alburgue filled up quickly, as did every other bed in town. Those straggling in after around 4:00 had few options: taxi back to the previous town or go on ahead to Pamplona for the night—or sleep on the unforgiving concrete in the multipurpose room of the municipal. Ouch.

This municipal was more in keeping with what we had expected: more beds, very co-ed. Our room held 11 bunks—room for 22 men and women. We dropped our packs and set up our beds. I was assigned a top one.

As I rounded the other side of my bunk to finish tucking in my mattress cover, I was greeted with the totally naked backside of a male roommate. Thankfully, it was the BACKside! (No photo included.)

Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Our toilets and bathroom sinks were also co-ed—which was a very weird experience.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with strange men—well, men you don’t know—while brushing your teeth and washing your face. Hearing men chat right outside your stall door as you’re… tending to business. Thankfully the shower areas were separate and private… unless someone left the access door open. You step from behind the shower curtain and… surprise!

After cleaning up we found a small bar (cafe) with outside umbrellas and tables. It was still warm but quite comfortable in the shade. The three of us shared a scrumptious green salad heavy with ripe red tomatoes, white asparagus, tuna and more, and two piping hot, thin crust pizzas. What a yummy treat after a challenging day.

Afterward Sandy and Marian headed for the river and I went back “home” to do some laundry and journaling. Later we reconnoitered, found a grocery store  where we picked up oranges and snacks for the next day, then walked a bit to find where our path would resume in the morning.

We were ready for bed! I don’t know if it was the earplugs or my fatigue, but in spite of our crowded room, once I fell asleep I slept like a log.

After all the pre-trip concerns about my ankle, I walked over 13 miles this day with absolutely no problem—and no blisters or hot spots. What an answer to prayer!