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Distance walked: 13.8 miles
Album of the day: Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Actions by Franz Ferdinand, although my Scottish friends sang a bit of the Proclaimers for me when I had it stuck in my head 🙂

Today was my first day with my big backpack. I left Roncesvalles early, at 7:15, with a Gu in stomach and the plan to stop in about 45 mintures for some more substantial breakfast. The dawn looked clear, but as I peered out the window of the dorm, I noticed many of the departing pilgrims with their large coverall ponchos on. “Is it raining?” I asked a hostel volunteer. “Not now, but it will,” she answered.

Boy, was she right. Not long after breakfast, clouds rolled in and a light drizzle soon deepened into a steady rain. My new rain jacket works like a charm, and my duffle-turned-rain cover kept my pack dry… but I realized that all of this did nothing to protect my hands. They were so cold! I have some cotton stretch gloves, but I didn’t bother since I knew that as soon as they were wet, they’d just turn into little soaked sponges in my hands.

And then the rain was gone, revealing a clear blue sky.

And then it was back.

And then it was sunny again. See a pattern here? I didn’t even bother taking my rain gear off. The road today was mostly downhill, which is not as pleasant as it sounds because it places an entirely different pressure on your feet and legs. I am LOVING my trekking poles: they have really saved my knees. Tomorrow will have much flatter terrain; I am looking forward to it.

For breakfast this morning, I stopped at a little supermarket in Burguete, just 3k outside of Roncesvalles. I was checking out yogurt prices when I heard the guy next to me speaking English. His name was Colin and he was from Houston, Texas. We split a 4-pack of yogurt, apples, and a loaf of French bread for breakfast, using the remainder of the Guatemalan honey that Nadine had pawned off on me in San Pedro. As we stood there eating, an energetic gray-haired Italian man bounded up to us and started excitedly asking, “Fidanzata??? I burst out laughing and had to explain to Colin that this gentleman had just asked if we were engaged. Colin is now officially my “fiancé” to anyone who asks ;).

This new Italian friend of ours, Marcello, is now perched next to me on a couch by the fire in the common room of our hostel in Zubiri. He is speaking in rapid-fire Italian, asking questions about his Camino guidebook. I understand maybe one of every eight words. A semester of Italian fifteen years ago has not exactly stuck with me! He also just asked the American man and Australian woman next to me if they were my parents. i guess everyone wants to make connections.

I did not make it to Larrasoaña as planned today. While my pack didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would and I was keeping my feet taped up and covered in Aquaphor all day, I discovered a nasty set of blisters on my right pinky toe and decided to call it a day. My sleeping bag will be jettisoned the second I get to Pamplona.

Suzie, Miho from Croatia, and Colin are also staying in Zubiri tonight, so I got to eat my pilgrim dinner (and wine) with friends. (A different Italian last night had asked Suzie and I if we were sisters. Is it me, or is it Italians? 🙂 )

Off to Pamplona tomorrow!

Distance walked: 15.6 miles
Album of the day: El Camino by The Black Keys

Sending that pack ahead was the smartest thing I could ever do. I made the hike/over the Pyrenees and across the border from France into Spain without any issues. I greased up my feet with Aquaphor and wore my liner socks, and so far, no blisters. Hooray! I am so relieved to be in Spain because my French is absolutely atrocious. I feel like I can actually communicate now (although I heard one of the workers in the hostel complaining that “all the Americans expect you to speak English.” Hrmph!) i have already met a ton of fun people, including Suzi from Hungary, Tom from Sante Fe, and Greg and Lane from Scotland. They are medical students and have great senses of humor: great walking companions. They also wear kilts, which raises a lot of questions from fellow pilgrims. As we were stopped at the Croix de Thibault, a little more than halfway, to get some snacks from – honest to God- a French food truck in the middle of the countryside, two South Korean pilgrims approached the guys with a mixture of intrigue and shock. “You wear skirts!” she exclaimed. Then she asked for a photo with them :). We also had a lengthy discussion about Game of Thrones and recreated a garish scene from the similarly mountainous trek of Danerys Targaryen for a photo (see below). It is nice to meet other nerds.

We arrived in Roncesvalles just after 4pm; the trip took me eight hours with breaks. The hostel in Roncesvalles is brand new – converted from a monastery- and is like the Waldorf-Astoria of hostels: super hot water in the showers (heavenly!), laundry service, and a multilingual support staff. I am totally spoiled, because I know that the rest of the road will likely not be like this. So I’m enjoying it while it lasts. Zain had also made the journey without any problems. It is also nice to run into familiar faces after a long day.

We made a reservation for the nearby restaurant which offers a pilgrim menu. This is a set meal which consists of a three course meal with wine, water, and bread for usually under 10€. The wine was greatly appreciated. It is a lot of fun to eat a meal with people from so many different countries. I was shocked that some of my Italian was coming back to me, and I managed to remember a few Croatian phrases to share with a pilgrim from Dubrovnik.

Most of these posts are going to be rather simple, with a short update and several photos. My goal is to spend as little time on this website as possible since I want to enjoy my time with the other pilgrims. (I just turned down an offer from some Germans to get a drink, but as my feet are sore, I had 2+ glasses of wine with dinner, and I’m already in my pj’s with my nightguard on, that’s pretty much a given). And I’m really damn tired!

Thank you God for getting me through this day. And thank you to everyone for your words of encouragement. They helped more than you will ever know.

Notwithstanding the debit-card-and-rain-jacket saga, the rest of my time in the UK was quite pleasant. I took the Underground from the airport to King’s Cross, where I saw Platform 9 3/4 (a shout-out to all you Harry Potter fans. I did not, however, shell out for the souvenir photo wearing a Gryffindor scarf) and boarded a train to Baldock.

Baldock is a sleepy, quintessentially British town. My friend Allison and her husband Aengus and daughter Katherine recently finished renovating what was once a derelict building right in the center (or centre 😉 ) of town into a beautiful new home. It was a very cozy place to stay.

View from the house

Allison was in the very late stages of pregnancy with twin boys, and I could tell that she was in an extreme amount of discomfort. I am very proud of how well she managed. I could just imagine what I would be like in that same situation, but it would involve a heck of a lot more complaining. And I would probably cry a lot too. But Allison was a trooper.

There were some fun festivities during my stay there. Baldock was having its annual beer festival, so I went there with Aengus, his mother, and Katherine, since they had activities like face painting and a steam engine for children. We also celebrated Katherine’s 3rd birthday. It’s always fun to watch a child open presents, but Katherine was even better because she was so polite. I have never heard a child openly say after reading their card (get that? She is actually interested in the cards!), “Oh! We’ll have to thank Grandma for that!” She is three. I also love the fact that my American best friend’s daughter has a little British accent. It’s so adorable.

On a dental note, Katherine was so excited when she got a dishwashing set because she thought that the scrub brush was a large toothbrush and she loves to brush her teeth. (Good work, Allison!)

On Monday, I took a long walk to Letchworth, the neighboring town, which most people might not find especially noteworthy. However, to a British humor fan like me, it was a treat because the movie The World’s End, the final movie in Simon Pegg’s zombie-laden Cornetto Trilogy, was filmed here. And in true film geek form, I took photos of all the places that had been converted into pubs for the film’s famed pub crawl.

The walk to Letchworth

There are more… but I think two photos give sufficient representation, no?

Paying tribute to the best zombie trilogy evah (and then throwing out the cone post-ice cream because it’s lined with chocolate! Noooo!)

The road home

On my last day in the UK, after a frantic shopping trip to Piccadilly Circus to find a rain jacket (success! I am now the proud owner of a new – high quality and on mega-sale- Berghaus rain jacket!), I decided to treat myself and calm down a bit. I bought a ticket to see The Drowned Man, the latest “interactive theater” show by Punchdrunk, the London company behind Sleep No More. I saw SNM four times in the States – it’s that good- and have developed a near obsession with it, so I was grinning like an idiot when I stepped inside Temple Studios near Paddington Station to see the show. And it didn’t disappoint.

Inside Paddington Station

Outside of St. Pancras International

I am so grateful to Allison, Aengus, Katherine, and Aileen for their incredible hospitality during my week in England. I don’t know what I would have done without them during my bank card crisis. And I’m happy to say that Allison safely delivered two healthy baby boys, Aidan Michael and James Xavier, on Wednesday. Congratulations to all of the Barrys: I love you!

My “dreamy” flight to Heathrow was the start of a week that was supposed to have been a relaxing, peaceful visit to my best friend Allison – pregnant with twins- and her family in the town of Baldock, England. Instead, a number of events occurred which cast a pall of stress over what has otherwise been a fun week.

1. Upon my arrival at Heathrow, I headed to an ATM to get out some British pounds. The first ATM didn’t accept my card. This is not too unusual; sometimes I have to go to several machines to find a company that will work for my bank card. (In Peru in 2008, it took me almost five days for this to work). But then the second machine didn’t work either. I tried five ATMs in all, and none would accept my card. At first, I was irritated, thinking that my bank had somehow disregarded the travel notice that I had placed on my account. I exchanged some emergency US cash and made it to Baldock. When I called my bank, I learned that my card had been frozen because someone had tried to take the equivalent of $400 in Columbian pesos using my card number in Colombia. Um, not me. Crap. Looking back, I am 99% sure that the fraud occurred at an ATM in Antigua that had been tampered with. Luckily, the thief was not able to access my funds (see, those travel alerts do work!). But then, I needed to complete the process of authorizing a new debit card to be sent to me. I can’t continue to travel without access to my cash! Thank God that I would be spending the next week with my friends here in England and hadn’t planned on many cash-requiring activities. I arranged to have a new card expedited to Baldock.

2. Except my expedited card took its time getting to Baldock. Months ago, I had booked a flight from London to Biarritz, France, which was one of the easiest ways of getting to the town which begins the Camino. My flight was scheduled for about noon on Thursday, May 8, a week after my arrival in the UK. On Wednesday afternoon, I was sweating bullets because my card was nowhere to be found. I finally called and had my shipment tracked: my card would not be arriving that day. Which means that I couldn’t fly out as planned. That night was spent trying to rebook flights and hotels, which was stressful and expensive. Apparently high season has already started (I had read that this wasn’t until June and July), so finding a last-minute room in town for two nights without spending an arm and a leg was not easy. Grrr.

3. Just when I thought that my problems were over, I was taking my jacket off while at a coffee shop with my friend’s daughter and mother-in-law. I noticed a scattering of white flakes on my sleeves. (No, not dandruff!) I inspected my rain jacket to find that the interior waterproof lining was disintegrating. Not what you want to see when you are scheduled to start a 5-week trek across Spain in probably the rainiest season of the year. Panic.
So the plan is to buy a new rainjacket (I have tracked down Marmot retailers in London) this afternoon.

And soon, everything will be all better. For now, I will have to