Letters To

In the morning, we agreed to meet outside our respective refugios at 8 a.m. I am there (as always) a little early, and Ingeborg and Rita are there promptly at 8, and we set off. The way goes up over the little bridge I was on last night, and then off (and up) to the right. We pass through an area of houses, very quiet, no people about even at this hour. I wonder if everyone has already gone to work (doubtful, since this IS Spain after all), or sleeping in. The sun is coming up, but it's still cool. After walking briefly by these houses, the way leads off through some woods, and then behind a vast industrial area, a mine, or a mill, or something similar. The property is posted and we are warned to stay only on the marked path, but we are also wished a good journey. As we walk, I am struck by the contrast of the industrial ugly view to my right, and the forested, autumnal, lovely rural view to my left. The two halves collide right on the path, and when I walk, that is how I feel. I a...

Paco the taxi driver roars off in a cloud of smoke after dropping us off at our respective places. Ingeborg, Rita, and I agree to meet for dinner at 8:00 at a cafe/restaurant around the corner that has a sign outside for a menu. It's currently about 6pm, so I go into my alburge, pay for the night, get my credential stamped, and get a tour from the host. The place has a coded lock on the door, and she gives me a TEEEENY piece of paper with the code on it. Knowing that I will lose that piece of paper immediately, I write the code down on the front of my credential, which I will NOT lose. Thus, I am safe from being locked out. Directly as you walk into the main room, to the left in a tiny little cubby, is a computer with Internet access. I ask what the charge is, and she says none. Very nice! I'll email later. The rest of the room is a combination of kitchen, eating area, and laundry room. Yes, there's a washer/dryer, but for me, it's too late in the day to wash much, beca...

So, after probably 45 minutes or an hour, Rita, Ingeborg, and I get up, repack everything and get back on the trail to Linzoain. We emerged out of the woods, the trail took us up close to the highway, and then away again. We arrived at Linzoain at around 4 p.m., by this time, hot, sweaty in the afternoon sun, and ready to set the packs down for the night. The first thing we notice as we walk into the town is what looks like a 2-sided open air handball court. There is a stencil of 2 crossed raquets on the wall, but none of us can figure out exactly what kind of sport it is. Across the street is a small playground, so small, in fact, that at first I think it's just somebody's yard. We continue on into the town which seems shut up like a ghost town; however, there is the always-present construction crane, and many of the builings seem brand new, though uninhabited. Also, there are "Se Vende" (For Sale) signs everywhere. Shortly, we begin to go up a hill which loo...

Morning dawns cool and misty, the light taking its time to come in. This is something I have a hard time getting used to--how dark it is in the mornings here, even by 7 or 7:30 a.m. In Colorado, the sun is well up by then, even with daylight savings time making it actually an hour earlier by the sun. I guess that's the advantage of living at a highter altitude and at a lattitude just a bit closer to the equator. I take my last morning shower, dress, and pack my backpack. I make one final circuit of the room, making sure nothing is left behind other that what I have given up for the trip. These items, I leave on the chair just inside the door. I hope the housekeeper will find a use for at least some of the things and be happy with the windfall. I leave that sweet little room, and head back to the restaurant where I need to turn in my key. I've munched on a few almonds and eaten a couple of squares of dark chocolate, so now I need my cafe con leche, and then I can set off. The ba...

I sleep for at least 3 hours. It's wonderful. I have reached the age where I LOVE naps, mostly because I do not sleep all that well at night anymore, even when not sharing a room with 15 or 20 other people making strange noises in the night. So, a good nap is really a blessing. I wake to afternoon falling, and decide to wander around the small bit of Roncesvalles that I can see. First I go to the tourist information office, which is just to the left of the stone terrace in front of the hotel as I exit. It's pretty small and of course, all literature is either in French, Spanish, or German. I begin to get a feel for what it must be like for someone in America who doesn't read (or read well) English. Already I am missing the ease of reading anything that comes across my field of vision. After a brief visit and look at a few maps, I walk back across the terrace and down the stairs to enter the cathedral. I push open the doors and go in quietly. The first thing I notice is that...

So, after my nameless friend leaves me at the bar, I go over to talk with the man behind the bar. He is a compact man, probably around my age, and seems friendly. I ask about the room, and he nods, and motions just a moment, so I go back to my seat. Shortly, a younger man comes over with a brochure. Apparently, the hostel part of the place is full, but they have a new hotel just at the back, rooms are approx. 60 Euros, and would I like one of those? Well, it's more than I wanted to pay, but I would be able to go right in, and I know that if I stay in the alburgue (an old church with about 100 beds and not much else), I'd have to wait until 4:30 to get in, and it's barely 10 a.m. right now. So, I take the room. I pay him, and he says it will be just a bit before he can get the key. No problem, I say, I'll just have another coffee. One thing that is consisitently great during my entire trip through Spain is the coffee. Always a pleasure. Soon, the young man is back with t...

Morning dawns at Orisson quietly, in cool mist and low clouds. The six of us women wake up and start what will become the morning routine of getting to the bathroom, rustling our various configurations of plastic bags, and getting dressed for the coming day's walk. We also need to head down for breakfast, as staff was very specific that it was from 7 to 7:30 ONLY. That's when I discover that the American and European ideas of "breakfast" are quite different. I eat a couple of pieces of dry French bread with a little marmalade and manage to snag a bowl of coffee. I haven't done as much packing because I know I'm not leaving till 9am, while the others are going sooner. After breakfast, I say goodbye to Ingeborg and Rita, hoping that I might meet up with them further along the Way. As I am up in the room doing the last bit of packing, I hear the Irish ladies below. I go to the screenless window and lean out. They are heading up the road towards Roncesva...