Day four, Pamplona to Puente La Reine

6.30am - Just woken up to a steady drizzle of rain. Fortunately the temperature's dropped, so I won't cook inside my parka.
More in a few hours.

Much later - after 2pm: I certainly didn't cook. I fondly imagined that a T-shirt and a parka would be perfect, but I had to stop very early on and dig my hoodie out of my day pack. It was very fortunate I even had it. I'd planned to put it in my suitcase, but had the suitcase half zipped when I noticed it on the bed.
I think I would have been in big trouble without it, as the temperature on an illuminated clock as I left Pamplona said 10 degrees and it later got colder with a wind.

I had my morning briefing from my dear Gubby in Snells Beach, even before I got out of bed, and she warned me to take care on the day's big climb. I didn't even know I had a climb. My basic guide book just tells you how the trail goes - when to turn left or right at the towns and villages. It only gives altitudes of the towns, but doesn't describe the terrain - I have a more comprehensive book that does, but hadn't absorbed it for today.

Anyway  the guide book only described the start and finish and the various towns, which were all at more or less 400m. It didn't mention the 300m hill in the middle.

Back to Pamplona. The population is about 200,000 - similar to Christchurch - so there's about 5km of pleasant suburban walking before you get out of town.

The building across the road had the mirror windows - I walked right past that road crossing on the right.

I was walking through a very pleasant park and admiring the building over the road that had mirror windows, so you saw the park reflected back at you. That was nice, but I overshot my turn by a couple of hundred metres and was just realising I hadn't seen a Camino disc on the path when a passerby nudged me and pointed me back on the trail.

I was reflecting on the thoroughness of the trail signage. As well as the fancy markers in Pamplona there are frequent signs with the scallop shell and in more remote areas roughly painted yellow arrows as well.


















Later in the day I walked through a historic village that had little brass scallop shells embedded in the pavement.

The downpour continued unabated. I was just leaving the outskirts of Pamplona when it reached a crescendo. I got to one part of the track that had turned into a stream - ankle deep.

There was a bit of a gathering at the edge, with some people deciding to move into adjacent fields, which I suspected may be just as bad, so I trudged on along the path.





Walkers take to the fields.





One of the disadvantages of waterproof shoes is that the water doesn't get out, so I faced several hours of trudging along with soaking wet feet.

It wasn't a day for socialising. I was greeted early by Pa from South Korea, who insisted on introducing himself and shaking hands before we moved on. After the flood path a spoke briefly to an Israeli, who I strangely enough met again a moment ago in the lift on my way back upstairs from getting my second beer at the bar.

Gubby's prediction was true. It was a slog uphill to the summit of Alto del Perdon, at 800m. A beautiful metal sculpture (top of this page) shares the territory with a bank of wind turbines, which rose out of the clouds sounding like aeroplanes passing overhead.

Very incongruously, there was a van selling goodies. The coffee had run out, but I grabbed some chocolate to sustain me.

The downhill was at least as bad as Gubby had said. I careered down, trying not to slide on the loose stones. At the bottom, it got worse - mud. Thick and clingy, it was soon falling down inside my shoes and obliterating the backs of my legs. Passing through a small village an hour or so later, I stopped at a fountain, took my shoes off and thoroughly scrubbed all the mud from the outsides and insides. My socks had never dried, so I squelched along for the rest of the day.

One of the highlights of this day is the small church at Eunate. You have to make a call at about 18km to add an hour or so on to the day's walk to visit this church, but I was just too wet and cold. Did I mention a strong cold wind had sprung up? Fortunately it was from behind.

One thing that was loving the wet was the snails. They were out in force everywhere. I like to think that pilgrims are kind to small creatures. Although I saw a lot of snails, very few had been squashed.



 Soon after 1pm, I  wandered in to Puente le Reina. I'd Googled my hotel - Jakue, but I wasn't quite prepared for its splendour. My room is on the top floor, under the eaves, and it's nearly as big as my entire house.

I got into the shower with all my clothes on. When I'd washed off most of the mud, I filled the bath and soaked for a while, giving my muddy clothes a good shakeup at the same time.

The room has kind of hall stand you can hang your pack, your shoes, your hat, whatever. It also has a heat pump. So now all my wet stuff is getting a blasting, while the clothes I washed are hanging over the bath on my elastic clothesline - later to graduate to the stand. There's also a hair dryer if I need help with this mission.

The bar is very good. They keep their pint glasses in the freezer, so between the beer being poured and the trip up in the lift, ice has formed in the top of the glass.

The serve a full pilgrim meal here with wine for 13 euro, so you can bet I won't be going out. Should meet a few people too.

Summary of dinner later.

Dinner was really good. It was a buffet, so I pigged out on fish and salads. There was a wine fountain, with red, white and pink and you just helped yourself. Three courses for €13.

I sat down with a Dutch man called Eric, but he was just too intense, so I finished up reading my book. Not very sociable of me.

Because the wifi is so slow, it's taking ages to load today's photos. It's a work in progress, maybe it'll be done by the morning.

It's morning, and the photos haven't all loaded. Here's most of them: https://photos.app.goo.gl/GWJcZnryHdYCfsbx9