The Littlest Pilgrim

Day 11 - 16th May 2009 Grannon - Tosantos

2009-11-07T09:34:00.001-08:00

Distance walked - 21kms

Weather - sweltering degrees

‘Picking up a baguette at the Panaderia of Jesus, where you know the bread has to be good, we walked away from Grannon to the sound of the church bells ringing - sending the pilgrims off on their journey.

Today we were walking into the new region of Castilla y Leon towards Belorado. Belorado was a huge town in medieval times and was the first town granted permission from Santo Domingo to establish stalls to sell to travelling pilgrims

The walk today was fairly easy with gradual inclines but the sky was cloudless and the sun beat down on us pilgrims relentlessly. Today of all days Aurelia decided she wasn’t going to wear a hat and was quite amused by her new game of how far she could throw her hat from the carrier. Her mother and father were considerably less amused after playing the game for 3 consecutive hours.

Nick’s knee was still bothering him and I had new blisters on my feet. Worse was that we had lost some weight walking and now the hip belt was loose on my waist. I had difficulty doing it up tight enough and as a result the carrier was squishing a nerve in my shoulder making my right arm go numb. Nick and I had kept our eyes out for a new carrier as we walked through towns but no one had any idea of where we could find a baby hiking carrier. Some sales assistants did make the helpful suggestion of Barcelona - which was the complete opposite direction.

The road extended through field after field of wheat and the highlight of the morning walk was an unexpected icecream stall in one of the small town squares. These townsfolk - along with 6-7 feral cats - were all determined to benefit from the visiting pilgrims. The girl at the icecream stand was doing a roaring trade on the day we passed through and there were no complaints of commercialisation ruining the pilgrim experience from us - where ice cream is involved there is no taking the higher ground.

With our hats and shirts drenched with water and wet bandanas around our necks and, with Raya in her UV50 swimsuit and still fighting the hat - we arrived in Belorado by 2pm and sat in the town square to redress my feet and discuss whether we would walk on.

We met Kate and Emma lying down on the town square bench - taking a brief break before they walked the next 12km.

Belorado had HEAPS of albergues - several which were brand new, Î5 and had swimming pools. We passed many familiar pilgrim faces who were already settled into the albergues and kicking back with a cocktail in hand by the time we walked past. Lots of them called out to us to stop and come and join them for a swim.

Aah the temptation to stop at one of these albergues was so strong we nearly succumbed but, on principal we said no. I know it seemed ridiculous when it was sweltering degrees and they had swimming pools but this time, as there was no icecream involved we were taking the high ground!!

As we had been walking through the seemingly endless field of wheat we had seen a car come driving through the fields along the narrow dirt track. At first we had suspected that a Spanish farmer had finally had enough of thousands of strangers traipsing through his fields but the Spanish have endless patience and a real spirit of hospitality for pilgrims of Saint James. Instead as the car drove near to us we could see people hanging out of the car windows thrusting business cards for their ‘brand new albergue with a swimming pool’. Whenever the pilgrim accepted the business card they were quick to offer the use of a mobile phone to the pilgrim to call ahead and book their room.

Neither Nick nor myself agreed with this calling ahead to book a room. In our mind this is what tourists did for hotels, not pilgrims. It encouraged people to race from town to town and fail to listen to their bodies and pace themselves accordingly. Every pilgrim has something they hate - for many it is the cyclists who speed past them during the day and take the beds in albergues in the evening - but this was our particular pet hate.

So sitting in the main square, replacing the wet gauze on my weeping toes we weighed up our options while Aurelia bum shuffled around amusing the locals - and herself!!

Tomorrow’s elevation map showed a huge climb and any extra distance covered today would only make the following days walk easier. We also knew that if we walked on to Tosantos we would find a warm welcome at the albergue and our friends from the previous evening - if they too had resisted the temptation of the swimming pool.

Walking - a far cheaper way than driving across Spain.

Fuelled with caffeine and sweet biscuits we resumed the walk onwards to Tosantos. The last 6kms was uneven road and my feet and shoulders were glad to finally reach the town. Even a top 5 game of ‘ Top 5 chocolate bars’ and the subsequent heated debate between Bounty and Kit Kat had not proved adequate distraction from the discomfort we were experiencing.

Aurelia had also grown increasingly restless as we walked and she was ready to be out of the carrier and crawling free.

As we reached the albergue we were greeted with the warm welcome we had anticipated and our friends from the night before. Oh it was so lovely to have finally kept pace with our friends and the pain of the last 6kms faded away as we found our sleeping space. Like the previous albergue there were no beds only mattresses for us in the attic sleeping quarters but for once we were bunking down next to friends, not unfamiliar faces.

Once we had braved the ice cold showers - and I really do mean ice cold - we went to sit in the sunshine to warm up. Aurelia was delighted to be free on the grass and have a new captive audience at her disposal.

As parents it was interesting for us to watch how different cultures interact with children. The French generally seem to be very reserved and the hardest to be won over by Aurelia’s charms but she loves a challenge. The Germans and Danish are warm but respect her personal space and let her move over towards them. The Spanish however don’t hold back at all. As soon as they see Aurelia there are normally calls out of “Guapa Chicka” and they rush forward to scoop her into their arms. If Aurelia holds out her arms for us or tries to wiggle free they will pinch her cheeks and dance around till she is laughing and giggling. If that fails some form of sweet food is offered and at this point Aurelia is their friend for life. It I also interesting to note that the Germans and Danish are happy to follow games led by Aurelia and they would always let her choose the books to read. The French were really into singing her songs and the Spanish people preferred to create the games or activities.

Tarki the hospitalero came outside and asked if any of the pilgrims wanted to go to the church in the rock for a short tour. While it was an invitation it was obviously expected people would attend and as Tarki said it would be short we were happy to attend the local tour to see the church the townsfolk were so proud of - it really was the only thing which could even vaguely pass as a tourist attraction.

We walked across from the albergue and met the elderly, deeply religious woman who was the tour guide. Our 5 minute tour turned out to be a 1hour tour where we walked up a steep hillside to reach a small cave which had been turned into a small chapel who knows when. We were all sooo glad we had thongs on and of course at the end of the day a pilgrim who has walked 20-30kms wants NOTHING more than to walk up another hill.

One of our fellow pilgrims was a lovely Brazilian girl, who now lived in Italy, who spoke both Spanish and Portugese. Her name was Lucia and she was beautiful both in appearance and spirit.

Aurelia was quite taken with her, she has a real gift of discerning a persons’ character. Lucia was amazed we were doing the pilgrimage with a baby. We were amazed she was doing the pilgrimage with a dog.

We got talking as we walked up the steep hill. She was doing the pilgrimage as a way to see Spain while she worked out where her relationship with her Italian boyfriend was headed. She knew what we meant about having become celebrities on the camino -her dog had meant a similar notoriety accompanied her - but not such a positive one. Albergues would not let her stay because of her dog and as a result she was often left to camp outside albergues in a tiny tent by herself. While we had to stop to give Aurelia breaks during the day she had to do the same for her anxious dog - who wasn’t coping well with the walk so far. He would use all his energy early in the day and then lie down and refuse to move for hours forcing Lucia to wait for him till he was ready to continue. Nick and I are both dog people but we felt this was taking it a little too far.

I asked Lucia if she was finding the camino a lonely experience and she admitted she was and was thinking twice about continuing. She didn’t think her dog would cope with the heat of the mesetta and because she couldn’t take her dog on a bus, like we could take Aurelia to skip the mesetta, she was beginning to realise that her pilgrimage may have to come to a premature end. She was planning to take the dog to a vet to get an expert opinion as to whether she could continue with him. It was also interesting to me that the cost of the dog’s passport to travel from Italy with vaccinations was the same price as the cost of Aurelia’s UK visa.

As we reached the top the tour guide gave Lucia a hard time for having brought the dog up the hill, even though the dog would wait outside. However once the tour guide realised that none of us spoke Spanish she quickly changed her tune and became overly friendly towards Lucia so that she would do the translating.

Many pilgrims complete the walk of St James for religious reasons however this particular group of pilgrims were not religious at all. Once we were in the church we realised the ‘tour’ was really just an attempt to hit up pilgrims for money donations. We all sat in silence while she went into lengthy detailed description of the Virgin Mary on the altar. When Nick made a joke about the Virgin Mary being the only virgin left in Spain the woman realised her chance of getting much money were slim (from us she was getting nothing our wallet was in our packs) and so she brought the tour to an end - but not before she said three lengthy prayers - looking at Nick for most of the time - most likely praying for his heathen pilgrim soul.

Once back in the albergue everyone went downstairs to help make the communal dinner and Nick jumped at the chance to have a lesson in how to make traditional Spanish paella.

The dinner downstairs was wonderful. We had a nicoise salad, paella cooked in a huge communal pan and then baked apples for dessert. Once again the gift of hospitality was evident. It was a simple communal meal and it wasn’t the presentation of the table or the complexity of the meal which made it memorable - the meal was made with simple, local produce, it was the positive energy which made the meal. I am learning this lesson and hope that it is one that I carry home with us. At home throwing a dinner party means cleaning the whole house, then choosing dishes that complement each other and timing the cooking right so the meal can be served on time while still cooking food which fits into the budget. The wines that match the meal have to be selected, knowing this will be talking point at the table, and no wonder by then the whole activity seems a huge hassle and the hostess has no energy left to enjoy the evening. Throw looking after a small child into the mix and this is why I think parents of young children limit their entertaining in the home.

However here in the albergue, where the budget for the meal consists of what the pilgrims the night before donated (neither the church or the state provides funding for paroquial albergues - and all repairs on the albergue are done by volunteer pilgrims eg cold showers because the plumbing was done by a pilgrim volunteer plumber), everyone comes together to help create the meal. They put their love and energy into the process and therefore enjoy the meal because they were involved. The wine has no label but people are just grateful for it to be provided and what vintage or grape kind is irrelevant - it is just about drinking for simple enjoyment.

Tarki also began the meal with a great rap style grace. It was not about being religious but about showing thanks and the rap involved banging the table as loudly as you could with your hands - Aurelia LOVED this form of grace. The aim of the Fransiscan tradition was to bring a positive energy to the food and the meal - and it worked. Once the rap was over everyone had a smile on their face and noisy conversations broke out across the table as people were served.

After dinner we all went to a tiny prayer room with a beautiful stained glass door. The doorway was at hip height deliberately made low so as to remind you to be humble and lower yourself on entering the room. Lucia’s dog, nervous at being away from her tried several times to get into the prayer room. Nick escaped the prayers by nominating himself to put Aurelia to sleep and supervise her.

Tarki played Franciscan monk music, dimming the lights, lighting candles and asking people to sit in silence for 2 minutes to reflect on the day just walked. He too enforced the message that no pilgrim can rush the camino - it will slow you down to the speed you need to walk to learn the lessons it had in store for you. Perhaps this was why our packs were so heavy and we had blisters - we were missing the lessons.

We all took turn to participate in a multi language service and then to read the requests/prayers of pilgrims who had passed through before us. Prayers for healing, prayers for family members with cancer, heart wrenching requests from people desperate to find the answer to life while walking the camino otherwise they were planning to end it all.

It was a moving experience and helped us feel connected to the hundreds of other pilgrims who had passed through this same albergue and shared in the same hospitality that had been shown to us.

In a subdued mood we all went our own way to bed.

The great food, friendship, hospitality and reflection meant that everyone slept soundly and we were all still in our sleeping bags when the sun shone through our window at 7.30am the next day.

The next morning when we woke it was the first time that we had to sadly wish people farewell. The lovely German ladies were returning to Germnay and didn't have time to walk any further. They read Miss Raya makka pakka and there were tears.

Finally we wished Lucia, Tarki and the dog farewell and begun the important question "to mesetta or not mesetta". That was the question.

Day 10 Azofra - Granon - 21kms

2009-09-24T01:20:00.000-07:00

Distance walked 21km, Perfect hiking weather - cool temperatures and clear sky with sunshine.

“ Well after tossing up continuing with the Camino in Najera and being a bit here nor there about it, feeling disillusioned by our experience, today the camino showed what it can offer a pilgrim.

We slept comfortably in our prison cell and started our day with a typical Aussie breakfast - vegemite on toast. We managed a quick departure from the albergue by avoiding the warmth of the common room and today we were not the last to leave the albergue - finally.

The morning breeze was fresh but the wide open sky was a vivid blue and there was plenty of morning sunshine reflecting off the fields of wheat which moved like waves on the ocean.

As we walked along the path - stopping frequently for people to take photos of Aurelia - I felt a sensation. The kind of sensation that had me debating whether I was going to vomit or have shocking diarrhoea. In panic I surveyed the surrounding fields of wheat - without a tree in sight - and realised that if my body decided I didn’t need to vomit, then I would be dropping my pants in front of every pilgrim who walked past. Wonder if they would be wanting to take a photograph of that!!

After continuing to walk along with a few false alarms it dawned on Nick that my misbehaving stomach was due to the antibiotics I had taken for the mastitis on an empty stomach. Nick forced me to eat avocado on a baguette and the nausea eased - thankfully. Nonetheless it is a looong way between toilet breaks on the camino unless you are up for a wilderness wee, or worse.

Our feet continued along the trail and we wondered how much further we would walk before we reached this incline that looked intimidating on the map. Onwards and slightly upwards - this was a short but steep incline - we continued, the ground crunching beneath our feet.

The quietness of the camino and the silence of the landscape can be overwhelming at times, so different from the urban landscapes we travelled from. The silence is so thick that is has a real tangible presence and this morning we could feel it.

Aurelia had drifted back off to sleep again once she had claimed her share of the avocado baguette - it is impossible to eat a meal without sharing some with our toddler daughter - and Nick and I walked on.

As we almost reached the top of the incline - favouring the slow and steady continuous pace rather than several short breaks other pilgrims were taking - we were overtaken by two Spanish pilgrims. Once Aurelia falls asleep lulled by the rhythm of our walking pace, stopping wakes her up so we try to make good time to allow her wake time to be play time. There was also a fear, which we joked about, that if we stopped on an incline the weight of our packs would topple us over backwards sending us rolling like snowballs back down the incline from which we had just struggled up.

Bloody hell” Nick said and gestured with his head in the direction of the Spanish pilgrim who had just steamed past us in full conversation. Not only was he able to carry on a conversation - a humorous one at that - but he was also smoking a cigarette as he walked and his pack looked heavy.

Okay so we know the camino isn’t about winning - but really, secretly, who doesn’t like to win? Personally, maybe a teeny tiny bit I like to win, okay fine I admit it, I love to win and, if forced to be honest the pilgrimage brings forth in the individual a degree of humility more painful than blisters. Was it not bad enough we were having our backsides kicked each day by people in their sixties and seventies, the “fit as” germans and now chain smokers - give us a break.

Reaching the top of the incline the land stretched onwards as far as the eye could see and, it was all dead flat. This meant one of two things:

1.We had not walked as far as we hoped and not only that we had a LOT longer to walk than expected before we encountered this incline 0r(and unlikely)

2.We had walked up what looked like a monstrous incline on the map without realising.

Personally I believe ignorance is bliss but Nick practically argued for us to consult the map. If we hadn’t walked as far as we thought then we would need to factor in extra breaks. Damn
straight - there is only so far a person can be expected to walk in the morning before a café con leche!!

Crossing my fingers and blistered toes in hope and throwing a prayer up to God we saw the Rialto Golf Club sign ahead of us to the left of the camino trail. Hallelujiah - the Lord had answered my prayer with a golf course.

The golf course was past the steep incline which meant that we had just kicked arse on the incline we had been dreading (even more respect for the chain smoking Spaniard now). It had been difficult but nowhere near what we had been anticipating. Finally, with a sense of cautious optimism, we dared to think that we’re adapting to the Camino - and our feet were getting more Tonka.

As we walked past the golf club which looked alien in the surrounding landscape we praised ourselves on our surprisingly good pace.

So what else to do when you are feeling in chipper spirits on the camino - but to play a game of Top 5. I am sure every family has a game they play in the car - whether it be “eye spy” or “celebrity head”. “Top 5” was our family game and I know Nick has a real fondness of the game, despite his eye rolls at my suggestion.

The game is quite easy. One person selects a category and then each person has to think of their personal top 5 for that category - which often results in heated debate to reach the overall Top 5.

Today I chose “Top 5 desserts you want to see at the end of a pilgrim meal” as the topic for conversation. We knew the top 5 desserts we didn’t want to see at the end of a pilgrim meal and the number 1 dessert was dry as a bone “Santiago cake” that we had been served at the conclusion of nearly every meal for the last week.

With thoughts of gelato, apple strudel, tiramisu and lemon meringue floating through our minds we walked past giant hay bales till we glimpsed the city of Santa Domingo in the distance. We looked at our watches and saw that it had only just passed 11.30am - and we were soon to reach our destination for the day. We gave each other a very bogan but nonetheless jubilant high 5.

Having reached a consensus that baked cheesecake was THE dessert we would most like to see at the conclusion of a € 9 pilgrim meal we fell into step beside a german guy.

And so the process of making camino small chat began, falling into the usual pattern of “how many days have you been walking?”, “where did you start?” and “where are you from?”. Oddly enough “what is your name?” is rarely one of the questions asked.

The pilgrim, who didn’t have a german accent told us “I know Sydney” to which we patronisingly gave a polite nod. By day 10 on the camino we had heard all the kangaroo, koala jokes and people had told us how great Melbourne was with “that Harbour Bridge”.

“Yeah I live in the Gong”. “The Gong” is the locals nickname for Wollongong, 1hr or so from our house in outer Sydney. He told us he had been living there for the last 22 years having followed love to Australia originally. What a small world! He was happy to see us travelling as a family and told us how him and his wife had thrown caution to the wind when their daughter was Aurelia’s age by travelling around Australia in a caravan for 6 months. He believed, like we do, that while they are too little to remember the experience, travel shapes them as individuals and that travel as a family is a wonderful experience. How great to meet a kindred spirit.

We walked alongside each other for a while before he told us our pace was too quick for him, we had never heard that before, and he dropped behind to wait for his friends.

We arrived in Santa Domingo just after 12 noon to discover the albergue here opened at 12 - and the people we had seen hike past us - Kate and Emma from Adelaide - were already standing in the queue.

Why race through the walking experience only to stop walking by 12? This was a huge albergue with plenty of beds, the walking conditions were glorious tody and if we had made it by noon, then they must have barely broken a sweat.

The weather really had been glorious. Normally I put my jacket on first over my ice breaker red or blue shirt and then put the carrier on. Ray always falls asleep quickly once we start walking and then by the outskirt of the first town we are sweltering and down to a t-shirt already. A familiar but unavoidable pattern as the mornings are still to cold to just start off in a t-shirt. Today I had walked the entire way to Santa Domingo in my gortex jacket - unheard of!

Looking at the ridiculously long line and knowing there was a second albergue in town which didn’t open until 2pm we left our friends behind in search of that café con leche. We didn’t want to be a part of the albergue race.

The entrance to the town via the ugly industrial region was quickly forgotten by the delightful feel and wonderful architecture of the old town of the city. For every monstruous modern Spanish structure there remained a classic piece of Spanish architecture to charm and welcome the pilgrim traveller. The only modern infrastructure which took our fancy were the processional pedestrian traffic lights that controlled the flow of people through the narrow cobblestoned streets.

Turning left off the main square - you quickly learn the main square tends to be over priced with brusque service - we found a quaint chocolaterie where they had a window full of marzipan creatures, croissants and other delectable creations. Sitting on the counter our prize for the mornings efforts - baked cheesecake!!!! We had only just played ‘Top 5 desserts you would like to see at the end of a pilgrim meal’. We took it as a sign from the camino.

This place was fantastic. True it had been a long walk for a morning caffeine hit but doesn’t everyone love coffee and baked cheesecake for breakfast?

As we sat enjoying the caffeine hit and I redressed my blisters we heard music from outside. The lovely lady who ran the shop scooped Aurelia up in her arms and walked outside so Aurelia could see the procession for the patron saint of the town. Aurelia loved the bands and happily clapped along in the strangers arms.

As we were finishing up one of the Korean girls walked into the coffee shop - this was so weird - we never normally beat anyone into town. We asked her if she was walking on and she said yes - to Grannon.

My feet, courtesy of caffeine and Iboprufen didn’t feel too appalling and we started to toy with the idea of walking on. The weather was perfect for walking and we had made such good time already. Even if we walked really slowly we still had hours to cover the 6kms to Grannon.

We also took into consideration that we generally hadn’t enjoyed the stays in the larger albergues - they really felt like prisons. We decided to continue the walk onto Grannon. At the pace we had been walking we calculated it would only take us about 90mins.

We were loving walking along alone. Most people had stopped at Santa Domingo and the path was clear in front of us. Occasionally a cyclist would pass us on the roadway but this was the first day that we were actually really enjoying being out walking - perhaps we were finding our walking legs after all. Unlike travelling in a car where you simply move through the landscape, hiking we felt like we were part of the landscape and more of our senses were involved in the experience.

As we walked on the sun really came out and with a Chernobyl narrowly avoided we began the walk up the hill into Grannon. Passing some dodgy Spanish buildings and Aurelia’s first donkey we saw the town of Grannon on top of the next hill.

The walk up into town was horrendous - up hill, in the heat but through the foulest smell you can imagine. All the animals are farmed indoors in Spain, they aren’t put out to pasture. So we were walking down wind from these sheds for most of the way coupled with the fact that the sewerage drains were all being repaired in the midday heat. I’m having nasty smell flash backs just typing this.

We arrived in the town right on schedule. The small town seemed deserted and as we started to take a look around we saw the bright yellow gortex jacket of Aurelia’s ‘camino poppy”. He was delighted to see us and led us back to the albergue - where there were no beds - just thin bed rolls on the floor.

Still this albergue was heaven and it was at this albergue that I really learnt the value of hospitality for the first time.

The albergue was a gorgeous building attached to the church and was a paroquial albergue connected to the order of Fransiscan monks, not the municipal albergues we had been staying in previously. Far from the sneering reception at Najera the welcome here was warm as the volunteers rushed to take your packs from you and make you feel comfortable.

Rather than insisting on payment before entering the albergue this place had a small box on the side table which read “give what you can, take what you need”. Once you had your sleeping area set up and had gone for a shower the volunteers encouraged people to come back to the common area to relax together and to have a lunch which they had cooked. To not have to race out to a super Mercado to buy food was unheard of. The food was simple but filling and so welcomed by the weary pilgrims.

After being able to relax and soak my feet in salt water, and having Aurelia supervised by her “camino poppy” who gave her a beautiful Korean bookmark as a present,

Can you tell she loved getting a present!!!

it was time for a communal effort to cook dinner.

Camino Poppy took over baby sitting duty while mummy and daddy chopped and peeled vegetables close by. She still has the drawing they did together in this picture.

While people peeled vegetables around the large wooden table, some pilgrims who had been assigned to clean up duties sat near the fireplace playing classical guitar music. Other pilgrims who were coping well massaged the feet of pilgrims who were struggling.

This was what we thought the pilgrim camino experience would be like. We had begun to realise that a lot of people walk the camino searching for answers to different questions but this searching, introspective nature, together with the language barriers, prevents little more than superficial conversations. The homely environment that the hospitalero had created at this albergue together with the comfortable furnishings were encouraging people to open up their travel companions.

At 8pm all the pilgrims crammed into the common dining room and sat around tressle tables. The one condition of staying in the albergue was that everyone eats together and while 8pm was a late eating time when most pilgrims were normally in bed by 8.30-9pm the communal eating experience made us all feel like family. Determined to be part of the family Aurelia refused to go down to sleep at her bedtime and so joined everyone for dinner, sitting at the head of the table of course. No one can call our littlest pilgrim shy!

The meal was a delicious vegetable soup and a lentil and meat stew served with free wine. It was accompanied by laughing and singing as pilgrims took turns to play the piano and guitar. Aurelia, taking after her nanny, played the spoons on the table in time with the music.

In this relaxed atmosphere we got to know two lovely women who were sleeping opposite us and were both from Denmark - one a school teacher and the other an early childhood teacher. They had many questions about our experience of walking with a young child and were interested in our family travel plans. We also sat next to two lovely german women at dinner. They only had 3 weeks of walking and would be leaving to go back to Germany from Belorado. We were sad to be making friends with people we wouldn’t be able to walk with all the way to Santiago.

Once the meal was over we all retired to the sleeping areas, everyone talking about what a wonderful night we had shared and how lucky we had been to walk on to discover this tiny albergue in Grannon. Part of the camino process is accepting that people you meet will want to share their parenting expertise with you. The French couple sleeping on the floor next to us were horrified that we were kissing Aurelia, then putting her in the Kinderkot to put herself to sleep. They started singing to her and when we asked them not too, as Aurelia would only want to keep talking to them, they grumbled to themselves. Once they saw Aureli fall deeply asleep quickly they accepted that we weren’t cruel parents.

Ives enforced a strict “no waking before 7.30am rule” (which of course some people broke) explaining that rest and meditation was an equally important part of the camino. Too true we thought and most pilgrims were thankful for an excuse for sleeping in.

I felt bad for Emma and Kate back in the huge albergue in Santa Domingo who would miss out on this connecting experience.

The warm, hospitable atmosphere of the albergue and the moving experience us pilgrims had shared together was all credit to the hospitalero Ives.

Over the breakfast he provided for everyone in the morning we casually chatted with him, curious to find out what had led him to the camino.

He shared with us that he was French and had previously worked as an oil driller in South Africa and Norway. He had read Coelho’s “The Pilgrimage”, the same book Nick had read, and 2 days later decide he too wanted to walk the pilgrimage across Spain. Gathering his gear together quickly he set off on the pilgrimage the next day.

Once he finished the camino experience he returned back to France and retired from work. He made life decisions such as living more simply which now allow him to walk the camino each year after his annual 15 day voluntary hospitalero stay. He also belongs to a mountaineering group and takes people over the Alps walking each year. Each volunteer stint was done in a different albergue which he acknowledged was always further away each year from Santiago - never getting closer to the end of the pilgrimage.

When we left rather than shooing us out the door he hugged us and told us to try to walk past the next main town of Belorado and head to Tosantos - a further 6kms. He explained here that we would find a tiny albergue but another paroquial albergue which was run in the same spirit.

This was all we needed to hear to be convinced to try that extra bit harder to reach Tosantos.

Day 9 Najera - Azofra 8kms

2009-09-22T00:04:00.000-07:00

It was 12 noon before we checked out of our hotel room and didn’t we savour the opportunity to sleep in - there were no 5.30am alarms for us today

.
I was not feeling as well as I would have hoped but the tenderness was relieved enough that I could carry Aurelia for a short distance and so we aimed for Azofra 8kms away. It doesn’t take long for the mind to adjust to walking kilometres so that 8 kilometres seems like a short stroll.

Once checked out we stepped out of the hotel to a cold blustery wind and rain. This was the first time we would have to use the gortex jackets in rainy weather. We popped Aurelia into her rain jacket but the rain eased off to n0t much more than a drizzle by the time we had crossed the river. This was lucky for us as Aurelia was warming up to the game “You put it on, I’ll pull it off”. She was a champion of the version of this game involving a beanie she WOULD NOT keep on in London and the result had been her picking up a cold. It is a slow 8kms when you have to keep stopping to pull her hood back over her head.

We left Najera by climbing a short but steep hill which gave our trekking poles a good work out. “Welcome back” the camino seemed to say to us!

Used to a blazing heat each day I had left the hotel with wet hair but combined with the icy wind my ears were screaming at me. Desperate to stop them aching I resorted to wearing Nick’s beanie which was not the most glamorous look I have ever modelled.

It took a little while for us to find our rhythm again today thrown by the initial steep incline. Luckily the remainder of the walk into Azofra was through irrigated farm lands and the remaining kilometres were completed quickly with the town upon us before we realised. Having reached the town unexpectedly fast - despite me feeling under the weather we had set the fastest pace of all our days of walking - we sat down in the town square. I was convinced that we had made such good time due to the late start - proof sleeping in is good for your constitution.

Nick and I debated walking on to the next town but we came to the conclusion that rejoining the camino today had required us to overcome enough hurdles without adding another 10km. We tried to remember the lesson the camino had taught us earlier on about pacing ourselves. Also the skies were looking ominous and as we sat in the town square trying to reach a decision several pilgrims stomped past us in ponchos completely saturated.

This cemented our decision, the storm was obviously coming this way, and so we decided to head towards the one albergue in town. If only we had made the decision 2 minutes earlier - or crash tackled some of those wet and weary pilgrims. Upon arriving at the “club med” of albergues, as some pilgrims had described it in the visitor book, we discovered that those last few pilgrims had claimed the last of the private rooms.

As per usual Aurelia was a hit with other pilgrims from the moment we arrived. Waiting to have our credentials stamped my head turned to the sound of two aussie accents - how quickly and instinctively the brain seeks out what is familiar and the same -asking “is that an Aussie accent” We introduced ourselves and discovered the two Aussie girls, Emma and Kate, were from Adelaide. Seems us Aussies were slowly taking over the camino. They were planning to couch surf their way around Spain and Portugal for 5 weeks following the camino and then like us Emma was planning to relocate to the UK.

Just as we moved forward to tell our starting point to the volunteer at the desk, a loud voice bellows “Feck” at the vending machine next to me. I almost had a heart attack I was that startled by the Scottish pilgrim. “This coffee is shite” he said before introducing himself and telling us he had had a gutful of the camino already.

This entire albergue was full of rooms which slept only two people - except for the rooms we were given. Being shown out of the albergue and down a small dirt road the lady directed us into a cement rendered very ’non club med esque’ building. How we longed for a hot summers day now, as stepping into the building, the wind whistled along the corridor and the temperature was at least 10 degrees cooler. The white cement walls and starkness of the interior made me think of a solitary confinement cell in prison. Shivering we entered our room to discover we were sharing it with three Korean missionary students who were walking the Camino as part of a large group.

They were thrilled to see Aurelia and she set about immediately charming them. One of the girls had lived in Canberra, Australia’s capital city, for 6 months and they all told us that Australia was their favourite country. Aurelia had found herself 3 Korean playmates.

We set about setting up Aurelia’s cot and making small talk with the Korean pilgrims who were fascinated by our decision to walk the camino as a family. Suddenly the door burst open and “How do you like ya prison cell” boomed off the concrete walls of our room as the Scottish pilgrim stuck his head in the door wearing a huge grin. One of the poor Korean girls almost jumped out of her skin. Grinning madly he told us about the night he spent in a prison cell in Spain 25 years ago for being drunk and that his cell had been better than this room - and we believed him.

Shivering in our room, we made the decision to head to the warmth of the common area and begin organising dinner. Here we heard more Aussie accents and spent time getting to know Chris and Jo - a brother and sister from NSW who were walking the camino together. The conversation with Chris was particularly interesting as this was his second time walking the camino and his reflections regarding his experience of walking alone the first time and now with company were very interesting. Chris and Jo were both doing blogs while they walked the camino - good on them for having the energy and they can be found at ChrisonCamino.blogspot and Jo on the Camino.blogspot.

While Nick fought for space in the kitchen from the French, other pilgrims fought amongst themselves to entertain Aurelia. One man in particular entertained her for ages on the floor allowing her to climb all over him while he read her a In the Night Garden book. With a 3 month old grand daughter at home - he repeatedly told us ‘I love your child’ and his affection was returned. Aurelia made herself right at home with “her camino poppy” and emptied out his entire wallet before bum shuffling away straight for the door with his Euros in her hand - making us all laugh.

Aurelia also charmed a Korean lady who was celebrating her 40th birthday that day. Aurelia was fascinated by the koala bear keyring this pilgrim had on her camera strap and despite our refusing the Korean lady insisted Aurelia keep it, bringing her collection of keyring gifts for the carrier to 3.

Sitting on long wooden communal tables at dinner the Koreans, seated to the right of us, all stood to sing Happy Birthday to the 40 year old woman. The other pilgrims all fell silent. Once the Koreans were finished singing Happy Birthday a group of Danish women jumped up and in danish began singing Happy Birthday to the Korean pilgrim. The entire room was now laughing and clapping along and the Korean lady was horribly embarrassed. This was the sense of comraderie I was hoping we would find on the camino. One lady from the Danish group ran over to hug the Korean pilgrim announcing “it’s my birthday today as well”.

Well this prompted the german pilgrims to jump up and another rendition of Happy Birthday was sung -this time in German. Finally, not to be outdone, the French pulled themselves away from their gourmet fondue meal and gave a fantastic French version of Happy Birthday. Aurelia squealed and clapped her hands along with the singing. When the French sat down Chris and I sneakily looked at each other and without speaking unanimously decided there didn’t need to be an English version of Happy Birthday sung. Spoil sports we are.

The communal singing seemed to remove a tension that had been existing in the room as people began to open up and speak to others next to them and across the table. On reflection this was the first night where we sensed a positive change in the experience of our camino. It seemed that a lot of people were still ‘finding their walking legs’. This sense of disillusionment that many pilgrims, including ourselves, had with the camino up until this point was making people internalise their emotions and experiences with people really keeping to themselves. I suspect that no one wanted to let on to a complete stranger that they were struggling.

Still once the conversations began to flow it was clear that while some may have blisters, some tendonitis and some homesickness - everyone was being challenged and having to learn new lessons in a way they hadn’t anticipated.

Walking back to our rooms with an uplifted spirit I hoped that some of these people would be keeping a slow pace and we would be able to have another night with these pilgrims at an albergue down the path. The first time you meet a pilgrim it is polite small talk, the second time you are more friendly and the third time you feel as if you have made a friend for life - the intensity of the experience creating strong bonds. With walking so slowly we had only ever reached the polite small talk stage with others.

Brushing my teeth before going to bed that night I got chatting to another lady in the bathroom. She had a lot of questions about travelling the road to Santiago with a child. At the end of our conversation she revealed that she was 5 months pregnant with a little boy. She was carrying her own pack and they were walking 15-20kms every day.

I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. All I could do while I had been pregnant with our littlest pilgrim had been lay on the couch with extreme morning sickness. I couldn’t have dreamt of walking the camino whilst pregnant - pregnancy is exhausting. I said “congratulations” and then without thinking the words “gee you’re brave” slipped straight out of my mouth!!!

Rest day in Najera – Distance walked 0km

2009-09-21T10:28:00.000-07:00

13th May

3 star hotel
€60
Weather - I wouldn’t know as I didn’t leave our room the entire day.
　
“ I feel like I have been run over by a truck. Swollen glands, sore feet and now mastitis. Give us a break.

There was no way we were walking today and I demanded we check in to the hotel - I barely made it the 300m to the hotel with my pack on. As we were leaving the albergue I saw two other pilgrims in the albergue who were sick. One lady was taking a bus to a monastery further along the camino that was known for looking after pilgrims.

The other woman, and her partner, were having a heated conversation with the volunteer. She was obviously unwell and I doubted whether she would be able to get to the dr’s. Her partner was asking whether a dr could come to the alberque to see her. The volunteer was telling them to get out with all their stuff, go and see a dr and come back when they had a letter to prove to him they were sick. Then he would let them stay an extra night.

In my mind albergues are no place to be when you don’t feel well.

Having a bath in the hotel room was a luxury as I spent the whole day sweating, shaking, moaning, and combining paracetamol, antibiotics, frequent breastfeeds and warm baths to manage the symptoms.

The day In bed meant my feet could be elevated all day which did them the world of good. Nick had been struggling with his knee so a day without the pack was a welcome relief. Poor Raya had diarrhoea we suspect from the milk on her cereal that morning and so the timing of the rest day ended up suiting everybody.

Aside from feeling unwell we welcomed the rest day as we are starting to feel like a spectacle now on the camino with Aurelia.

We acknowledge that it is only natural with her being so little, and utterly gorgeous, that people would talk about her and us but being the ‘talk of the town’ is beginning to grate on our nerves.

People will sit at the same communal meal table as us in the albergue speaking in their own language about us only addressing us in English to ask a question. One pilgrim then said “see I told you I was right” when we answered his question and they continued talking in German. The people who get their camera out and take photos of Aurelia in front of us without even asking irritate us the most.

Everyone says “gee you’re brave” (in fact we’ve heard this so much this is what our daily travel blog is called) and tell us what an inspiration we are - but we don’t feel that way. We are finding the going really tough and we just want to be able to walk the camino without all the attention and fuss we feel like we are receiving at every turn. We certainly appreciate the friendly reception Aurelia receives but there are cultural differences in how people interact with children and having to negotiate these each and every day while still being polite and friendly is taking a toll. When you are tired, hot and don’t feel well or when Aurelia is tired/hot and doesn’t want her cheeks squeezed anymore we would happily hand back the newly acquired “legend status”.

That night Nick watched the Bilbao vs. Barcelona grand final soccer game on TV, with Barcelona winning 4-1. He, who has never followed soccer, now proudly claims Barcelona as “his team”.

The pillows on the bed in Spain are unusual, one long common pillow on a double bed, and I don’t like it. Raya is snoring softly in her Kindakot on top of a pile of plush blankets.

Tomorrow we are going to see how I feel but most likely we will check out late and keep walking. After a teary conversation about the viability of fulfilling our dream of walking the camino, we both feel that if we stay off the trail for longer than 1-2 days we will feel too comfortable in the hotel and not return to the camino. Wanting to stay in the hotel and needing to stay in the hotel are two different things and so we agree to be adults and “suck it up” and only stay if we really need to - not just because we are finding it harder than we would like.

I plan to enjoy one last long soak in the bath in the morning before we head off again and I am thankful I am not having to put up with any full frontal stranger nudity in the bathroom - coping with my one-sided pilgrim tanned, blistered, mastitis’ed body in the mirror is confronting enough.

Perhaps I should have packed less undies after all.

Day 7 Navarette - Najera – Distance walked 14km

2009-09-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

Albergue
€5

Weather - back to the singlet and shorts heat we had come to know and hate

“ A week on the Camino today. In some ways we feel like the time had passed slowly while at the same time we feel like we have only left Pamplona yesterday. Before beginning the Camin0 we had read that it takes on average 14days to find your walking legs. Fourteen days until you have found your natural rhythm and the walking becomes effortless and enjoyable leaving the mind free from focusing on the physical discomfort of the earlier days. People describe missing the walking and feeling ‘restless’ in the albergues wanting to keep going each day. We look forward to the days we don’t reach the albergues and fall into an exhausted heap.

After a shocking night sleep, courtesy of some inconsiderate Spanish roommates making one hell of a racket, people around us have been slow to get going this morning and yet we are still the last pilgrims to leave - with the exception of our 71 year old pilgrim friend Ardt.

It surprises me how some people can be so inconsiderate of other travellers, how oblivious of how their actions impact on others. Whether it be emptying their packs and spreading their equipment all over the place, having overly long showers and using all the hot water or talking at the top of their voices well past lights out aka the Spanish pilgrims. My personal favourite is the pilgrim who reads the sign on the albergue door “no waking before 7am allowed” and yet still sets their blaring alarm for 5.30am. Even more popular in the dorms is the pilgrim who sets their alarm for 5am or 5.30 am at maximum volume and then sleeps straight through it leaving the pilgrims sleeping near him to search desperately for the alarm in the dark dorm room hoping they can smash it. Luckily I brought ear plugs and Aurelia continues to sleep through everything.

Where we had THE best pilgrim meal of the camino - the albergue was through that archway.

As we head out of town, right on the border we strip off our jackets and beanies. The air is still fresh but we know we will overheat quickly and I need to remove my jacket before Raya goes back to sleep for her morning nap in the carrier - otherwise taking her off my shoulders to remove the layers will disturb her.

As we strip off our ice breaker layers the skies show us that the day is going to be a hot one. Our plan was to cover the kilometres as quickly as possible as sections of the trail today we knew would be lacking in shade. We were aiming to be at the albergue by 12 noon if we could.

However our day didn’t start well. This time my feet weren’t to blame, threading cotton through my blisters and using betadine had helped slightly overnight and I had become more proficient in taping my feet. Instead poor sleep was affecting both of us and it was Nick’s turn to be hurting today. Unsurprisingly Nick was really struggling with his pack and I had noticed that his knee had begun bothering him. Reluctantly he had begun using a knee brace. We had discussed trying to lighten the pack even further but were at a loss as to what we could possibly do without - we were at the bare minimum as it was. Not helping matters the camino crosses several regions of Spain bringing with it regional variations in weather. The middle section, the meseta or desert region is hot but the final region of Galicia is known to be incredibly wet and can be cold so a range of clothing options are required.

Our morning walk allowed us to catch up with the familiar german faces from dinner last night and a lovely group of german men who we have been keeping pace with since the early days on the Camino. One of these men is my father-in-laws doppelganger (my husband did a serious double take the first time we met them) and Aurelia jumps up and down in the carrier when she sees him - a sure sign she hasn’t forgotten her Poppy. As usual we meet strangers on the path who all take photos of the “littlest peregrino” and she obliges with big monster smiles and waves.

As we walked on we saw the option to head off towards Ventosa on a smaller track which would weave through olive trees and cereal fields. Pilgrim after pilgrim made the turn in front of us. Ahead of us (if we chose to not walk through Ventosa) lay a straight, boring trail which ran mind numbingly parallel to the N-20. No churches, shops or cafes on this path. However it was shorter and with time being the issue in the forefront of our minds and knowing we were carrying enough water we pushed on straight ahead on the N-20 route without looking back at Ventosa.

We ate while walking to make the best time possible while Raya was sleeping in the carrier. Today Nick would pass food to her while she was in the carrier and she would have plenty of time to crawl around if we made it to Najera in good time.

The walking was nothing memorable and neither of us were in a mood to appreciate the scenery. It was a case of put one foot in front of the other. Repeat.

This repetition was only broken by Raya jumping up and down in the carrier with excitement. We looked around us to see what had got her so excited. Nick was shaking his head in confusion - perhaps there had been an animal we had missed however as I looked at the path I knew what had captured her attention - the rocks.

Back home in Australia Aurelia loved to watch a BBC show “In the Night Garden”. One of the characters Maka Paka loved to arrange stones into small piles - exactly as pilgrims had done with stones on the trail. Aurelia had obviously thought Maka Paka had been here so we spent some time looking at the stones while she laughed. Nick and I commented the arranging of the stones had obviously been done on a much cooler day.

Walking on past the Maka Paka artwork was the hardest part of the walk that day. By now the sun was almost overhead and we were struggling. The heat and low mood made each step harder. It is generally not the physical action or discomfort but the mood that accompanies it which determines how difficult a person finds a task. Our moods were not helping us out.

As we reached the top of Alto de San Anton the dark cloud that had been travelling with us all morning dissapated and we felt the beauty of the camino shine down on us. The view was like a long cool drink and our spirits felt rejuvenated. Nick commented that “this was what he looked forward to on the
camino each day”. To the left we saw indigo coloured mountains with white peaks and as we stood under the shade of the tree we were surrounded by vineyards with Najera spread across the horizon.

Onwards we walked, eating our baguettes, as we continued on down the gentle sloping descent into the city.

Walking down the trail, as we changed Raya’s nappy, came the Spanish man with the dog who was now walking with the ‘Swiss Blister Boy’ who we had helped on the side of the road. With smiles and ‘Buen Camino’ greetings we all continued onwards towards Najera.

This part of the walk was ugly, with a huge radio tower having been installed on the top of a mountain and the industrial region and quarry sitting like a scar on the landscape. Then out of the blue we spied Wolfgang - he just kept popping up along the trail when we least expected it.

We reached the albergue in Najera with the help of some locals who pointed us in the right direction as we crossed the river flowing through the town.

We were 5th to arrive at the albergue and there was nothing else to do except follow the other pilgrims, who had arrived ahead of us, staring in disbelief at the sign that informed us that the albergue didn’t open till 3pm!!! We now had 4 hours to kill.

We decided we would just queue our packs and retreat to the shaded grass area next to the river until the albergue opened. From here we could spread out, Raya could crawl around, people could do yoga and we could all keep an eye on our belongings. Nick and I knew our pack was safe - someone would have to be able to lift our pack before they could steal it and we knew the average person had NO chance.

Here relaxing on the grass we met Tim, an English character now living in Ireland, and his Portugese camino buddy. Tim spoke little Spanish and the Portugese guy limited English and yet they were getting along like a house on fire - perhaps limited communication rather than the endless Top Five games we had been playing - was the key!!

Tim informed us he had continually heard about us, the “Australian couple with the baby”, the “littlest pilgrim” and he was excited to catch up with us and hear our story. We were surprised that so many people were talking about Aurelia but Tim assured us that she had quickly become a legend on the camino with people showing the photos they had taken of her to each other to confirm they weren’t lying - they actually had seen a baby on the camino. Wow - a legend on the camino. We figured that made us legends by default.

This Portugese pilgrim was amazing. He must have been 50-55 with grown children our own age but he didn’t look a day over 35 ageing with more finesse than any0ne person was entitled too. He walked at an extremely fast pace and wasn’t carrying a single injury. If it wasn’t for his adoration of Aurelia - who crawled all over him like he was a piece of playground equipment - and emptying his wallet in between blowing him kisses - he would have been banished from our sight.

Tim, with great humour, shared stories from his Camino so far, including getting lost going over the Pyrenees. But it was the tales of the other families he had met on the camino that made our ears really prick up. Other families! With more than one child!! I felt a sense of relief to know that we were not alone in our madness.

Tim told us he had encountered two other families. The first family had three children who they were transporting in a large buggy that you normally saw attached to a bicycle. He believed one child was similar to Aurelia’s age, the other two 6 and 8. We couldn’t imagine taking the little legs of a 6 or 8 year old over some of the ground we had covered nor could we imagine pushing the combined weight of a 6 and 8 year old. Still people thought we were crazy so we reserved judgement till we hopefully crossed paths with the family.

Tim told us that the second family were an Irish couple with a little boy who they were pushing in a pram along the camino. He didn’t have any other details other than to say the baby was a delightful little chap. Mmm perhaps Aurelia was not the “littlest peregrino” after all.

Tired of waiting the Portugese man decided to walk on but we were done for the day and happy to wait in the sunshine. Slowly we watched a pattern emerge. Pilgrim walks slowly along the road to albergue. Turns corner and stops when he/she sees packs. Walks to door. Emits audible groan. Throws pack on ground at end of the queue. Retreats to shade. Removes boots. Does not move.

Being a teacher I let my eyes wander to the schoolyard next to the albergue. The class is having what I think is a fitness lesson on the concrete playground. The lesson involves the kids riding scooters through witches cones. I don’t imagine any of them even broke a sweat. That isn’t going to help any of them burn off the kilojoules a Spanish diet delivers in the form of numerous sweets and lollies we see Spanish children consuming. That sooo would not pass for a fitness lesson back at home in my school.

Finally the doors of the albergue are opened and people go to rejoin their packs. We overhear an Italian pilgrim commenting that he has just had to walk back from Logrono for a second time. Seems he had tendonitis so had to go back to Logrono to buy NEW hiking boots. Nick and I look at each other in horror. Imagine wearing boots that haven’t been broken in. I had the blisters from hell and that was walking in well broken in shoes. We asked him what he had been walking in and he told us sandals - he had left his hiking boots at home in Italy because he didn’t think he would need them and they would be too heavy. At this comment we all had a bit of a laugh - his with a slightly manic tinge. I guess when the camino threw you a hand of cards like tendonitis and new boots you either laughed or cried.

As we moved inside the albergue we were greeted by a sour pair of Germans who were in the role of albergue volunteers. We smiled as we passed our credentials across the counter and Aurelia gave one of her big cheesy grins. The woman sneered in response. Charming! Even the pilgrims standing near us looked shocked at her reaction. Where was the hospitality -after all they were called hospitalero's.

I asked if there was a problem with us having Aurelia in the albergue to which there was no response from either of them other than for them to take our 10 euro. Right end of the matter in my mind - we paid, we were staying. Don’t like having a child then don’t take our money!!

Pointing to the map of the dorm room, we saw the single level building which I suspect was initially part of the school building next door must sleep over 100 people, the male volunteer indicated that we had to decide where we would sleep but that the best spot with Aurelia would be one of the end beds. No problem. We picked up our gear and headed straight to the end of the dorm room. As we walked along the narrow row between the bunk beds nearly every person who saw us smiled at Aurelia and many knew her name although we had never met them which made us feel a little odd. Still the warm reception helped thaw the ice reception the volunteers had given us.

One advantage of participating in the race to the albergue is early in the queue means early to the showers. Yes - hot water for us today!!!

Now I am proud to be a woman but the behaviour of some in the showers makes me feel ashamed. No it isn’t the full frontal nudity, it is the way women seem to disregard each other. The men, according to Nick, have ultra quick showers, with men passing through the bathroom quickly. If they are in there long enough to remove the days smell is open for debate, but they don’t muck around in there.

The women however seem to think they are in the bathroom at home. I may be 5th in the queue but that doesn’t mean I need to adopt a “stuff you all attitude” in regards to the hot water. I shower as quickly as possible, pop my bra and undies on, and then come out from my cubicle to dress leaving the cubicle free for the next sweaty pilgrim waiting in the bathroom. I notice when I jump out that the two women who entered the cubicles on either side of me, before my shower, are still in there with steam pouring from the top of their shower cubicles. How considerate.

On the topic of shower room ettiquette, when I walk out from my cubicle I almost walk directly into the two completely naked Spanish women standing side by side at the hand basins. I know they are both Spanish (we had already exchanged the usual “Are you the Australian with the baby” details in which they told me they were from Spain) but they are both speaking in English which strikes me as odd. Waiting to brush my teeth, and not wanting to lean around the naked woman to reach the sink, I stand waiting with nothing else to do but eavesdrop.

The woman to the left is hand washing in the basin and commenting that she really needs another pair of shorts. I assume she is referring to a normal pair of shorts like I am wearing - I only have two pairs as I packed zip off pants. The woman in front of me nods in agreement. The woman then says ‘I only have these 1 pair” and holds up a pair of lacy boy leg undies. You have got to be joking!!! 1 pair of undies for a month of walking. Now I love lace undies as much as any woman but a synthetic fibre would not be my choice for the weather or terrain we were experiencing.

As I continue to look on in disbelief she pops the just washed ‘shorts’ under the hand dryer and when satisfied bends down and puts them on. Obviously I am being excessive bringing 4 changes of undies with me.

Finally it is my turn to clean my teeth and I almost choke on my Colgate when the Spanish woman, now with clean undies, proceeds to haul a toiletries bag equal in weight to our pack, up onto the sink. Pulling back the zip she reveals moisturiser, conditioner and shampoo (I’m using a bar of soap),mascara, foundation, contact solution (fair enough a pilgrim has to see) and a facial and eye mask. No wonder she only has room for one pair of undies!!!

The remainder of the afternoon and evening was filled with the standard washing, eating and journaling. When Nick set up Aurelia’s cot he saw that the valve for the Kinderkot mattress was torn, rendering the mattress useless. Glue and tape didn‘t work so the mattress ended up in the bin. Unless we wanted Aurelia to be sleeping directly on the floor our option now was to use our sleeping bags to providing padding for her. After some playing with the cot Nick finally got it set up.

Every time the female volunteer saw Aurelia a look of displeasure crossed her face. Almost immediately following us setting up the cot she comes marching down the aisle and using a series of grunts and motioning with her foot we get the idea she doesn’t like the placement of Aurelia’s bed. In frustration Nick repositions all of our gear and moves the cot. My hand is itching to slap her one.
We are not the only pilgrims she has taken a disliking too and finally moves on to frown in the direction of some outgoing Brazilian guys.

In the albergue there was a huge sign that read “A tourist is demanding: a pilgrim is thankful” - well I guess that makes me a Camino tourist today I thought. Despite to escape the depressing mood in this alberque we join the exodus at dinner time to a nearby restaurant for another standard pilgrim meal.

I don’t recall what time it was when I woke up lathered in sweat and freezing cold during the night. I scrambled around in my compression sack to reach as many thermal items as I could. Within minutes the layers were soaking. I curled myself up in a ball inside my sleeping bag liner praying I could fall back to sleep, too cold to move from the foetal position I had curled up into. The shakes continued.

The lights being turned on at 6am woke me and I felt like I was dying. Grabbing my towel I made for the toilets and a hot shower. My hair was plastered to my head from sweat and I was still freezing. Standing under a scalding stream of water I thought how odd it had been that I hadn’t felt like I was coming down with the flu yesterday. I went to lift my left arm to reach for the soap and my left breast felt like it had been sliced with a knife. I dropped my arm and lowered my eyes to look at my breast. I had felt that the straps on the carrier may have been chafing yesterday but not to the degree of pain I was feeling now. I moved my right arm over my left breast and felt the hard patch with heat radiating from it. All the symptoms fit together now and tied into Aurelia dropping some of her daily breastfeeds.

I dried off and went back to the dorm room. Nick looked at me concerned.I told him we weren’t walking anywhere today except to check in to the three star hotel in town.

I had my first case of mastitis.

Day 6 Logrono-Navarette - 12km

2009-09-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

"Knock Knock"

The door of our hospital room is flung open by the volunteer at the albergue. He wants to if we are ready to leave yet. Thankfully we are already up and dressed. Glancing over his shoulder as he pushes into our room we see the loft room is already full of empty beds. We are the last pilgrims remaining again.

It is still not 8am and we still have plenty of time till we should be forced out the door but this volunteer wants us out quicksmart so he can go about his day.

Good morning and welcome to another day on the camino.

Struggling with blisters and our heavy packs as we walk down all the flights of stairs the volunteer walks next to us with an uimpressed look on his face, not offering to help carry anything. Thanks so much.

He shows us straight to the large wooden doors but we need to pick up our hiking boots from the rack. Ignoring his expression we sit down in the hallway and slowly and painfully put our boots on. There is no way we are leaving without having even put our shoes on.

As we exit out the large wooden doors we almost trip over two pilgrims who have been sleeping on the doorstep all night. As they stretch and rise to their feet obviously expecting a warm welcome at the albergue, the volunteer points us in the direction of a cafe that will serve breakfast and then slams the door shut - almost catching the nose of one of the pilgrims.

Turns out they were struggling with the heat like we had been and when the snoring got too bad at the last albergue picked up all their belongings and decided to trek through the night. This didn't really prove too many problems until their headlight battery ran out leaving them to stumble along the trail in the dark. Well at least they will be first in the queue for the albergue now.

We head off to the cafe and sit next to the Spanish shower exhibitionist from the evening before - there's a mental picture I didn't need prior to caffeine. The typical Spanish breakfast involves small sweet cakes served with coffee. Aurelia is constantly being offered these sweet cakes by Spanish women we meet. She has since become addicted and on occasion I have seen her stuff so many into her cheeks that we are suprised she can even breathe.

After breakfast we go and sit in the square opposite the chemist. I spy Barbara who is waiting for her bus on the other side of the square. She is travelling back to the UK today and Judy will walk the remaining distance alone. We had agreed to meet up with her further down the trail. Unfortunately we never saw her again on the camino.

As we sat in the freezing cold wind attempting to re tape my feet -Raya happily playing with her nina and nino in the carrier - the tensions surrounding the decision to walk on erupted into a heated argument. We really had to make the decision now - before we were in some small town with no other transport option than to walk out - which may become impossible. The decision to walk on for each of us had to be made for us as individuals accepting that we had no idea if the difficulty level would rise as we continued. It was another suck it up moment. We had to discuss our fears and dreams and disappointments in a very real way.

On reflection Nick thought the camino was all over. He saw our camino experience ending right there in the shadow of the bus station which would comfortably and reliably carry us to a town of our choice.He called my decision to continue my 'fulcrum' moment. I believe it was 600mg of Ibuprofen blessedly kicking in. Either way we decided we were going to finish the camino and decided to head to Navarette which was only 12 kms away.

Walking out of the city we saw a supermercado selling hot baguettes and avocado - oh we were craving avocado - and avocado just makes everything feel better.

We continued walking along the footpath next to a busy road looking for somewhere to have a picnic and let Aurelia crawl around. As we pulled her out of the carrier she gave us a huge cheeky monster smile. The smile usually reserved for when she has been cheeky. Beanie - check. Jacket - check. Shoes - oh dear.

Somewhere since leaving the city Aurelia has decided to help lighten the load by throwing one of her shoes from the carrier. Her only pair of shoes that she has with us are now missing the partner. We consider for a millisecond going and looking for the little lost shoe before we accept that it is what she is offering up to the camino. We are fairly confident she will take her first steps along the way of St James - becoming a real pilgrim - and so will buy her another pair of shoes here in Spain.

After our picnic in the park (where we saw a Spanish lady wipe her dogs bum with paper !!!!) we headed off. It was an absolute relief to see that the majority of the trail was paved walking around a large lake. Finally - walking the camino was no more difficult than taking your dog out for a walk. My feet have never been more grateful.

Unfortunately as there were no public toilets we were forced into taking a wilderness wee in the park - oh so glamorous. Just as I pulled my pants down a swarm of mosquitos descended. Fantastic - now I will be scratching my way to Santiago.

The path meandered on and we passed several who had either had a late start like us or who were pushing really hard and had walked starting before Logrono. We passed one lady who walked reciting Hail Mary's the entire way with her rosary beads clutched in her hands. I could tell Nick was itching to throw away a few one liners but he just managed to keep them to himself.Just

As the trail ran parallel to the highway and we ascended to the top of a hill from which we could see Navarette in the distance - we saw the crosses which had been made and attached to the wire fence.

As Nick and I helped Raya thread a cross to place on the fence we were remined of how many people had walked this same path this year, this month, this week an even this same day. The EXACT same path. We felt part of a much larger picture and encouraged and humbled at the same time.

As we pushed on past the iron bull we tried to boost our spirits with the knowledge that the albergue was not far to go.

As we walked into the city we passed the ground of the initial pilgrim hospital. What an appropriate place to sit and rest my feet. There was nothing I could do but stop. My socks were saturated from my oozing toes and walking even another 100m was out of the question.

As we sat on the grass in the sunshine watching Raya crawl around happily we saw a flood of pilgrims pouring down the trail. Aah so it seems the daily race for the albergue had begun again.

There was nothing to do but let them walk right on past us. We would pay for a pension if needs be.We had learnt the hard way that when your feet give you an instruction - you do as you are told. And so we sat.

Finally as the throbbing eased slightly we decided it was now or never so hauled ourselves and packs up off the grass and walked up the hill. Why oh why does the final stretch always have to have some form of hill - it's like the icing on the cake of camino torture.

We reached the albergue, exhausted and sweating in the sweltering heat. The overcast skies and freezing wind had vanished to be replaced with a horrendously humid day. I looked over Nick's shoulder and saw that there was plenty of room to stand in the foyer of the albergue and wait while pilgrim passports were stamped. There was no need to make people and a small child wait outside in the heat. Yet we were ignored. Knocking on the door was ignored and my frustration slowly built.

People were now queuing behind us having walked to the other albergues and found they were full. After what seemed like an eternity the hospitalero let us in before slamming the door behind him least the two elderly pilgrims enter the cooler room before their time.

He assigned us to a room in the loft explaining it was almost the last empty beds, explained the bathroom were co-ed - now that was going to be interesting -- and then waffled on about his son who was a Jesuit priest in South America. Crikey he was giving us his son's whole life story - and I thought we were proud parents. I silently began to pray for Mercy in my head and for him to be suddently struck mute.

I nodded my head while the word "bed" repeated in my ears. The entire time we stood listening to him we were carrying our packs and sweating. I was expecting I could take a shower or swim in the puddle we were going to leave on his tiled floor.I glanced over a Nick and saw he too was doing the "mm that's really interesting" head movement that I secretly knew meant "get me the hell out of here".

As soon as he passed our passports back across the table we did a snatch and grab and moved as fast as possible to reach our beds. My feet felt wet and mushy and Nick's shoulder and knee were killing him.

As we climbed the second set of stairs a person with a yellow bandana around their neck walked towards us "Wolfgang" we cried. We were both so excited to see each other and it was a welcome and unexpected surprise as we had not seen him on the path that morning. Instantly our spirits felt uplifted - just like you do when you greet a friend who has returned at the airport. Seeing Wolfgang had become one of the highlights of our day.

We were thankful that we left our picnic when we did because once we arrived in the loft there was only 2 more beds left for the elderly people who had been behind us.

Removing my boots and dunking my feet straight into a bucket of salty ice water I looked around the converted loft and got chatting to people nearby who weren't already sleeping in their beds. The older man who had taken the last bed was a Canadian guy named Ardt who was in his mid seventies. He was walking alone and we marvelled at the mental strength to be able to do this trek alone. Not only would you lack an encourager but someone to share in the high moments with. We were inspired by his attitude to life. He was going at his own pace but he was getting there - good on him.

Finally it was our turn and we went down 3 flights of stairs to the bathroom. Actually having co-ed bathrooms made the showering of Aurelia much easier as it let us work as a team. Nick took Raya into the shower and as I stood waiting with the towel the shower curtain next to Nick's shower was flung open and my eyes were assaulted by full frontal 60 year old male nudity. I quickly averted my eyes and tried my best to repress the images. He dried himself at his leisure and thankfully was towelled off before Aurelia was passed out to me and traumatised.

I had seen just about enough bathroom exhibitionism for one camino, thanks.

Once Raya was clean Nick took her up stairs and I showered. Once dressed and leaning over the sink ready to brush my teeth the door to the bathroom swings open and lo and behold here is the guy I got to know intimately earlier in the afternoon. He glances at my toothbrush and with a look of horror starts bactking out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand saying 'sorry, sorry'.

I felt like saying "dude I just saw you completely naked I think it's safe to spit toothpaste in front of me".

Changed into our relatively cleaner clothes we headed next door and had THE best pilgrim meal of the camino. AMAZING pasta for entree, pork for the main and tiramisu for desert - my perfect meal.

Washed, fed and now time for bed we were tucking ourselves in by 8.30pm. Thankfully Raya continues to go straight to sleep as soon as we put her in the KinderKot.

Lights slowly were turned off as people settled into their sleeping bags and finished journalling. All except for the Spanish people in the corner of the room. Once I finished threading my blisters for the night I rolled over thankful for my little orange best friends - my ear plugs.

Day 5 - Viana - Logrono - 10km

2009-09-17T05:30:00.000-07:00

10th May

Albergue
€5

Weather
Overcast and threatening rain for most of the day - when the sun comes out the weather is steaming

There is a moment before fully waking that I enjoy. That moment when the limbs of the body are relaxed and the eyes are still closed as if the senses of the body are warming up slowly one by one. This is a lovely state from which you can easily slip back into your dreams if you have awoken to silence around you, or your bed is comfortable and the temperature right.

The parent of a young child knows that this semi dream state is left behind, long forgotten when toddler-dom arrives. Aurelia wakes most mornings with energy burning to escape her small body and if she has undone the zip on her Kinderkot then she loves nothing better than to crawl over to you and welcome you awake by picking your nose for you!

But this morning my ears informed me that she was still sleeping, my ears instinctively searching for the soft sounds of her regular breathing. However this dream like state was not to last as the assault on my ears was so disorientating I was forced to switch on my other senses to make sense of my surroundings. What on earth is that noise -is it French? Why are French people shouting all around me? Why does my bed feel so hard? And who has chopped off my feet and replaced them with burning balls of fire!! Where the hell am I ?

The answer to those questions was I was rapidly waking up, surrounded by people, on the living room floor of the albergue where we stayed last night. I was not in my bed at home and the hard tiled floor would explain the general aches and pains I felt In my hip and knee joints. Those burning balls of pain which used to be feet - I was responsible for those - a reminder to not bite off more than I could chew in future. Okay, okay I’ve learnt my lesson I promise

Apparently if you are a French pilgrim your voice has no volume switch and so you are left only to speak so that your voice reverberates of everything that surrounds you - my head included. My eyes go to the Kinderkot once again - surely I was mistaken, there is no way that Raya could be sleeping through this noise - an army mess hall would be quieter than this. Pilgrims observe me checking on Aurelia and their excitement at seeing Aurelia wake up only causes them to raise their voices in anticipation. I am sending a plague of blisters on anyone who wakes my daughter at 6am today and make it clear I want them to back away from her Kinderkot.

As I take in the pilgrims around me not only do I notice they are all loud - I had been sleeping with ear plugs in - but they are all dressed the same - in wet weathers. Seems that the sound I had heard had in fact been rain, and not ‘the soft pattering on a tin roof lulling you to sleep rain’ but rather the ‘torrential downpour that will make the path a mud bath today’ kind of rain. Varying assortments of ponchos parade pass Nick and I as we slowly start sorting our clothes - don’t they know it’s not raining inside - and the French pilgrims have the most impressive rain gear we have seen so far. Turns out this is because they have walked from Le Puy and for the 5 weeks of walking to the Pyrenees they had encounterd rain and mud every single day - hmm so the French are responsible for bringing this bad weather with them.

I start the slow process of bandaging my feet remembering today that my sister in law had asked me to take regular photos of my feet and blisters if I got “any really awesome ones”. Well these babies are redefining awesome!! After a combination of gauze, compede , elastoplast and electrical tape I put my socks on and squeeze my feet into my boots. This is going to be bad, really, really bad.

This was not the experience I was hoping for and certainly not what I wanted to be journaling about but a glossed over golden blog does nothing to share the realities of the camino experience and it is these realities that teach our minds the lessons from which the camino becomes so meaningful. Therefore the “warts and all” or shall I say “blisters and all” version must be shared.

The overwhelming feeling towards my body is anger. It seems that my body has a history of being reliably unreliable. Nick has always been fit and I on the other hand have a “please infect me/ injure me” sign on my forehead which is apparently irresistible to Life. This camino experience I had envisioned as empowering and uplifting. Instead my body and my mental strength appeared to have run for cover at the first sight of strife. Today I was worried we had bitten off more than we could chew and since it was my job to carry Aurelia if I wasn’t up to the task then I would be responsible for our family trekking adventure coming to a premature end. Never one to let go of a dream easily I tried to pull myself together to get my head around the walk ahead of us. Today would only be 10km and we only had to take it one step at a time. Small achievable goals was the strategy of the day.

Slowly pilgrim by pilgrim cleared out of the living room and it appears the silence is what wakes Aurelia from her sleep. Perhaps she too was slowly turning her senses on one by one and once the coast was clear she knew it was safe to make an appearance - clever peregrino.

We organise our packs (the speed with which we are doing this is not improving we note) and head out the door. At least we weren’t the last to leave today. A lady is sitting with her feet, soaking them in salt to clean her blisters while she argues with the albergue security man that ‘she doesn’t care if it 8am -her feet are not ready yet”. When you stay in an albergue you are able to stay for one night only and then you must have left by 8am the next day. We pass out the door with 10 minutes to spare.

The time it takes to get dressed, feed Aurelia, have breakfast and pack our bags has worked in our favour as now the rain has stopped. The downside is that the wet muddy trail has now become irresistibly boggy for our boots. We squelch slowly along the trail and try to avoid ending up on our backsides. The muddy track also makes it very difficult to find anywhere suitable for a nappy change for Ray.

The walk is mainly flat before a short climb before entering Logrono. The landscape today is not what we would term ‘inspiring’ as we spend a lot of time walking through the “Embalse de las Canas” which is a wetlands reserve. At some

points the ground is so muddy and churned up that we can’t see the footprints of earlier pilgrims and there are signs pointing in two opposite directions. If we hadn’t have met pilgrims who had walked this section before we could have easily rambled the wrong way.

With the I-pod on again and Raya enjoying being in the carrier with the cooler weather we see the first few signs to Logrono and console ourselves that we are almost there. I place a small pebble on the stone sign marker - my “’offering up of my sins” and the cursing I have done with my feet today, there are plenty to offer. As we walk under the motorway we see some pilgrim graffiti and shortly we enter the city of Logrono.

As we head towards the albergue we anticipate finding the location and having a small picnic lunch as there is plenty of time to kill before we expect the albergue to open and, as we have only walked 10km and it is only noon we anticipate most pilgrims will have walked on.

We see the street with the albergue and I am ready to head to the grassy river banks for something to eat. Thankfully Nick decides we should head down to the albergue to check it out. As we walk down towards the albergue, which is located on a corner, we hear voices. As we get closer to the corner we see that in the street to the side of the albergue a long queue of pilgrims have already formed, with at least 70 pilgrims waiting, and more in the courtyard area. Nick and I can’t believe it -we really have no option but to join the queue to ensure we have a bed inside the albergue that night. I silently curse the albergue experience and wish we were just checking into a hotel for the evening. The weather has now warmed up and we are sweating standing in the queue. No one is interested in letting me move in front of them to stand in the shade with Aurelia - some pilgrims true colours are showing.

As we stand in the queue hugging the wall and the small amount of shade we can find we see familiar faces in the queue ahead of us. Standing in front of us are a large group of German people. As germans walk down the street in the direction of the end of the queue they stop to speak to the germans in front of us -and then remain there. Now when this happens for the first time we think perhaps they were part of the initial group but as it continues we become aware that all these blokes are just pushing in. Who pushes in front of a woman and small child in the heat? Nick is gearing up to have serious words with the german in front of us (who does himself no additional favours by lighting up a ciggarette next to our small child).

As the queue begins to move I decide our standing and waiting is over and I push through the queue with Aurelia to the shade and seats of the courtyard so she can crawl on the floor and have something to eat. I ignore the disgruntled expressions from pilgrims in the queue. Slowly one by one the pilgrims are taken into the albergue to have their credentials stamped. The process here seems to be excruciatingly slow.

Nick enters the courtyard area with his pack as the queue progresses and many jokes are had at the size of the pack. Thankfully one pilgrim thoughtfully mentioned that a small child was waiting in the queue and one of the volunteers came out in the courtyard looking for us. She ushered us all inside, silencing the people complaing with a French tongue lashing.

The albergue here was large with well maintained facilities and they did their best to accommodate us with Raya by giving us the hospital room when it became free. However they are ultra strict at this albergue, the list of rules is long and they make no exceptions. Miss curfew and enjoy sleeping on the street without any of your belongings as some pilgrims apparently had to do.

Our meal is eaten in as I can’t walk to a restaurant. My feet are weeping and my socks were soaked when I removed them. I suspect that my toes are now infected.

Raya loves the attention of the dorm room set up and after a short bum shuffle away she bum shuffles back again - this time with a big smile on her face and her hands full of biscuits from the male pilgrims she has charmed along her journey around the dorm room.

We are both tired but we are thankful that only one of us is carrying an injury. Nick is left to do the showering of Aurelia on his own as standing on my feet in the shower I find a difficult process without juggling a slippery toddler. I say a prayer of thanks for having married a man who is such a hands on exceptional dad. I know that with such a heavy pack Nick must be doing it tough however he never complains and accepts it as another challenge on the camino.

The showering experience in the women’s bathroom is proving interesting. There appears to be some ‘cultural differences’ in how women from different countries approach the showering process. Without a doubt the Spanish women I encountered were the exhibitionists.

British women were the most prudish dressing entirely before coming out of the cubicle where other pilgrims waited to have a shower. I tended to put my undies and bra on and then jump out for the next person to have a shower, getting dressed outside. This seemed to be the most common option.

However the Spanish women would strip down naked whilst waiting in the queue, then exit the shower cubicle naked and remain so whilst brushing their teeth and hair. After a long walk each day this assault on the eyes was the last thing I needed.

The usual wash, eat, journal and sleep process is carried out and by 9pm another day on the camino is over. The female French volunteer has kindly secured us the private hospital room on the top floor of the albergue and we move our belongings up there and settle in for the night. The plan tomorrow is to find a pharmacy and see what range of over the counter drugs Spain has to offer it’s pilgrims.
　

Day 4 Los Arcos - Viana 18km

2009-09-16T02:32:00.000-07:00

I have to start the journal entry again today about my feet since each toe has it's own pulse and I look like I am going for a pedicure I am using that much gauze in an attempt to stop the weeping. Raya is amused watching me tape my feet – thankfully it amuses someone and we caught her shoving small pieces of gauze between her own toes. Nick wants me to photograph the blisters for memories sake but I am not yet ready to see the funny side just yet.

Now I have had the average blister before on my feet – or as a child when you didn't wear shoes and ran around on the hot ground. Nothing, absolutely NO blister I have EVER had compares to the blisters overtaking my feet now.

Nick and I have the camino debate of boots or sandals. Teva's will allow for more air flow but have less arch support and a thinner sole on rough ground. We consult the maps, see the steep ascent to Nuestra Senora de Poyo and boots it is.

We leave the albergue in silence and honestly I was in very low spirits. Having to start the day in so much pain and knowing you have no option but to keep walking on is a real kick in the teeth plus we didn't get a caffeine hit before we left. I was cursing under my breath. This time yesterday my feet were in perfect condition and one day of pushing ourselves has created a wealth of problems. - and it's only day 4.

People say the Camino reflects life. The beginning people rush through, laughing at suggestions to pace themselves, travelling at a reckless pace,making silly mistakes and being overconfident.”What do you mean I will regret my actions – I am young and fit with energy and the walk is mainly on flat ground and gorgeous scenery – too easy” would be the words of the 'young' pilgrim.

The middle of the camino -the dessert 'meseta' represents middle age and the 'mid life crisis' that is meant to happen. The barrenness of the landscape that spreads for kilometres without trees, shade or water and the complete nothingness of that stretch only leaves a person with his/her own thoughts to contemplate. This internal contemplation coupled with physical exhaustion can be overwhelming and reveal more of the truer self than one may like to see.

The final stage of the camino is meant to represent old age where the weary pilgrim has learnt the lessons of the camino (life) accepts not all things are in his/her control and walks at a much slower pace in no hurry to reach the end realising that the experience rather than the destination of Santiago has really been the true highlight of the Camino.

Well I am proving this theory is true – and much to my own disgust we have walked the first 4 days of the camino like young adolescents.

Less than 2kms into the morning walk we meet a young Swiss man sitting on the side of the road. He is walking the camino alone, and this is his first trip away from home. We watch as pilgrim after pilgrim walk past him without a second glance as they race to cover that days kilometres. This is not in the true spirit of being a pilgrim.

The young guy, almost in tears begs us for something to put on his blisters. Aah we think, we are not alone in our stupidity and he too had been caught out with the terrain yesterday. We had at least expected the blisters to come at some stage and so had a comprehensive first aid kit with all the supplies ready to go. However this young fellow had been walking with his “fingers crossed I wouldn't get blisters” and so had nothing. Oh dear,when the pharmacy doesn't open till 10am and the average pilgrim starts walking at 6am – that's 4 hours filled with a whole lot of pain!!

We share our supplies with him -making him promise that when he buys his own supplies he buys extra in case he passes anyone in the same situation he was in – and keep going.

Raya is sleeping in the carrier – such a great little traveller and I suspect she is being bored to sleep by the monotony of the landscape today. The scenery is very much like yesterday and I long for a change in the landscape just to provide a distraction from my toes.

A distraction! In a flash of brilliance I remember that Nick didn't but I DID pack my i-pod. Thank you Robbie Williams, Beyonce, Beastie Boys and Beck. The music allowed us to set a much faster pace and finally I had a smile on my dial. I don't think Nick has ever been so glad to see an i-pod otherwise it would have been a painful 18km for both of us.

After our routine strip off of our warmer layers, Raya is awake and smiling in the carrier – she seems to really love the walk and sings and babbles along on my shoulders. We meet the S trio – three people from Sweden, Switzerland and Slovakia. The girl from Sweden had the same little figurines Raya had, on her backpack, and they were full of questions about our little peregrino. They were being lovely and friendly but unfortunately I was in no mood for small talk – sorry guys. I was hoping they would be at the albergue at the end of the day to apologise for being so anti social. We have noticed that there are really two types of pilgrims -those who like to walk alone and ideally in silence and those social butterfly pilgrims who like to walk in company and make small talk the whole way.

Raya is becoming a bit of a celebrity which we didn't expect. Everyone who walks past us – and we mean EVERYONE, wants to take a photo and people joke with us that she must be the most photographed baby ever. We think we should be charging!!

Aurelia laps up all the attention and starts waving and smiling at anyone she sees walk past, pulling her biggest smiles as soon as she sees the camera – she must get that from her father!! A large percentage of people comment on how happy she is and we explain that if she was hating it we would leave the camino and come back again when she was older as this is a family experience where everyone has to be happy – but so far,so good.

We continued walking taking short breaks to rest our feet and allow Raya some play time. The path continues across rivers, through tunnels and through a long ravine today with a descent steepness of 10% - going downhill kills the blisters on my toes. We can just make out Viana and Logrono from the top of the ravine – taunting us it feels from a distance.

As we begin to head down the ravine we catch up with people who shared the albergue with us for the night in Pamplona. We spend time having a lovely conversation with a Danish women who is a social worker in Denmark but unfortunately do not get her name which is how it seems to commonly occur on the camino.

We also meet up again with the short and very cute canadian from Quebec who has 5 children and 8 grandchildren. He is wonderful with Aurelia and she adores him and he champions us on at every turn which is great when you are feeling low.

We also meet a wonderful loved-up older German couple who we shared a dorm room with in Lorca. They always seem so excited to see Aurelia when we cross paths on the walk throughout the day but they seem to have limited english so the conversations tend to be filled with smiles, gestures to the sky and then hand movements to indicate they are hot. We copy their fan gestures and nod smiling – yep we're hot too.

There are also a group of French tourists that we met after our first day of walking, at dinner. We couldn't work out how the women all looked so well groomed when they had such small packs until we saw them meet their support vehicle today and drive the next section. Mmm that would explain the blow dried hair and the pearls then. Of all the people we meet on the path Aurelia loves this group the most. They all sing the traditional french song to her while she blows kisses at them. Without fail she cries as they say good bye and walk off ahead of us.

As we walk through the ravine we notice that all the rivers we cross have signs saying 'aqua non portable' which means 'not fit for drinking'. We see some people who haven't carried enough water risk it but there I no way we are doing that and Nick is thankful for the extra litres of water that have been breaking his back all morning.

As the ravine continues to punish us we are struck with the thought of how equalizing the camino is. It doesn't matter what you earn and what socio economic class you are from. Everyone walks the same path. Everyone sees the same scenery and there are no shortcuts for the pilgrim. There are tourists who may walk short sections or do bus tours along the camino but for pilgrims the walking of the camino and staying in albergues is a humbling experience. If there is any status on the camino perhaps it is reserved for people who have walked the camino more than once or who began beyond the general starting point of St Jean Pied de Port.

The steep walk out of the ravine to follow the motorway into Viana is finally ahead of us and we pause to ready ourselves for the incline. Some people like to walk slowly and steadily, some people like to take breaks halfway up the incline but Nick and I are of the 'hell for leather” style where we put our heads down and give it everything not stopping until we get to the top. Nick smiles at me as I take a breath and pop the i-pod in. My feet may be killing me but we won't be beaten easily.

I had been paying attention earlier in the day to other pilgrims who had overtaken us – keen to pick up any tips which would make the walking easier. Generally most people were having an easier time because they had teeny tiny packs on but I did notice one trick the Danish woman had which was to walk up an incline in a zig zag pattern rather than straight up – which reduced the gradient of the climb. Why hadn't we thought of that before. We decided to give her strategy a try and well she was onto a winner!! Using this method we were up the incline without stopping and with less pain than the view from the bottom had led us to believe we would feel.

Sometimes the Camino made us cry but sometimes we felt like the camino was smiling down on us. As we reached the top of the incline we had such a moment. There in a tub of ice perched precariously on the side of the track were a collection of beers and soft drinks – all for 1 Euro. Never have we felt such love for icy cold cans of Pepsi. Quickly grabbing two and leaving the right money we scampered the last few steps and sat under a tree to catch our breathe and savour our beverages. Bliss. How quickly we had become grateful for just small things that we would take for granted in daily life back at home – cool drinks or water, shade and a stream to soak our sore feet in while we walked.

Here we met a young german man. He too was carrying too much weight in his pack and so had injured his knee. I was not alone in my pain, there were a lot of people who were struggling each day on the camino.

At 3.30pm we arrived in Viana – our 18kms over – to smiles from now familiar faces and offers to share their table and have a beer. With a promise to “be right back' for that beer we searched out the alberque. From the crowds of people we had seen in the town streets it seems that the heat and ravine combo have caused many people to call it a day earlier than expected and it was no surprise to be told, once we reached the albergue, that they were “completo” – full. We turn around to the sound of frustrated sigh and watch the group of 6 pilgrims who were waiting behind us walk away muttering about having to catch the bus. Some people have only budgeted on staying in the cheap albergues and therefore when the albergues are full their only option is to continue on until they reach an albergue with a free bed. We have budgeted for rest days or for Aurelia not coping well with albergues and us having to make use of pensions – and therefore having to spend more for one night thankfully for us is not an issue.

We follow her instructions and arrive in front of a large wooden door with a huge brass knocker on the front. Nick uses the knocker and the noise startles Aurelia. After waiting Nick uses the knocker again. We hear what sounds like turning locks and then a buzzing noise and are grateful that someone is coming to let us in. The buzzing sound quitens and then – nothing. No door being opened, no smile or friendly greeting. We glance at each other, Nick raises his eyebrows and tentatively gives the door a push.

The large wooden door creaks open to reveal a dimly lit hallway full of religious icons with the hallway branching off into a rising staircase and an even narrower hallway on the right. Spying a large day bed style lounge I take a seat with Raya and send Nick to investigate. Popping out trekking poles in the corner Nick calls out “Hello, we are looking for somewhere to stay' in Spanish. Silence. Someone had just opened the door moments ago – we can't be alone here. We hear noises down the corridor to the right and I see a man walk across the corridor who appears to have just come out of the shower. He does not acknowledge we are there and by his 'one sided body tan' we take him to be a pilgrim and not the owner. The woman at the albergue had told us that we were after a tiny spanish woman who didn't speak English – so Nick continues searching. In looking for a reception area we stumble across a room no larger than a pantry, covered with a velvet curtain. When the curtain was pulled back the tiny space behind we could see had been converted into a religious altar or small chapel with religious icons and figurines not all belonging to the catholic church. This did nothing to alleviate the uneasy feeling we were developing for the place.

Trying the anicent looking staircase now Nick climbs the stairs calling out a greeting in Spanish so as to not startle some poor old Spanish woman in her own home. Upstairs indicated they had no idea where the owner was.

By now the eerie silence of the place combined with the low lighting and religious icon overkill was creeping us both out. I called for Nick to come back downstairs and we decide to make a hasty retreat from this strange pension back to the well lit, noisy, crowded alberque where we hoped Raya's charms could convince them to find some space for us.

Nick wandered into a 1920s upper class ornately decorated sitting room complete with study desk and stained glass windows which were clamped shut. Like below, the room was dimly lit and the dust floating in the air gave Nick the impression that the room had been closed up for a long long time. Around these pieces of ornately carved furniture pilgrims were silenty arranging their sleeping bags for the night.

Again the owner couldn't be found and the gesture of one pilgrim

By now Raya is keen to be out of the carrier and she is starting to squirm indicating to us that her patience is wearing thin. We walk back to the alberque – the only one in town, and explain to the lady that the pension is full (well it MAY have been if we had been able to find anyone to help us). Looking at Aurelia the lady then offers us a place on the large living room floor which we accept. Honestly we were happy to sleep anywhere and Raya had her Kinderkot so she was catered for. The lady brings us down mattresses and pillows and blankets and as everyone is exhausted from walking in the heat and pilgrims normally turn in by 8pm for the night – the quiet living room floor was a big step up from a noisy dorm room full of international snorers. Walking up the stairs to use the one ladies bathroom in the albergue which easily catered for over 100 pilgrims – I see the dorm beds – with bunk beds three beds high. There is NO way I would have been able to haul my aching body up onto the top bunk bed and am even more thankful for my makeshift bed in the common room.

Returning from the shower we go about setting up our sleeping space. I look at our gear sitting in the corner. Nick notices the puzzled look on my expression and asks me what I'm thinking. “I don't know why but I feel like we are missing something”. Simultaneously the penny drops for both of us. Crap – we had left our trekking poles back in that weird pension. Nick wants to draw straws to see who goes back for them – yeah right buddy – he is going back for them and he knows it – his Spanish is much better than mine.

After 15 minutes Nick is back chuckling to himself and describing the whole adventure as surreal. I'm curious as to what has taken him so long when the pension is only 2 minutes from the albergue. Nick had walked pack to the eerie pension arriving at the same time as two middle aged spanish ladies. Nick buzzed on the door while the spanish women waited silently beside him. This alone is unusual for any middle aged spanish women. This time the door is buzzed open only for Nick to be met by what he described as a 'wild eyed Spanish woman”. Immediately they all begin conversing in “rapid fire spanish” with no acknowledgement of Nicks' presence made at all. Spying our trekking poles in the corner, Nick waited momentarily to catch their attention but with no acknowledgement and concerns regarding his ability to explain how our trekking poles ended up in the corner of the hallway originally – Nick took one step around the ladies, grabbed the poles in one hand and beat his second hasty retreat for the day hoping he had just escaped without being subjected to some spanish mystical curse.

Still laughing to ourselves we head up to the main street feeling that a cold beer with pilgrim friend is even more well deserved now. Raya loves being carried high up on her daddy's shoulders and enjoys being passed between the smiling women pilgrims who all stroke her blonde hair and squeeze gently her chubby cheeks.

Back in the safety of the albergue Aurelia falls asleep for the night by 5.30pm so going out for a pilgrim meal is swapped for cooking our own meal. Nick is becoming quite proficient at cooking different meals with three or 4 basic ingredients. I get child supervision duty because I can barely stand on my feet. People who spy my feet have looks of horror on their faces. Yep they are groutequely impressive!!
When shopping for the ingredients Nick met a man from Melbourne who informs us that the story of us carrying Aurelia has chinese whispered into us being an Austrian couple with a 4-5 month old. We wish, she would be so much lighter to carry! Nick wishes him “Buen Camino” and the melbourne man jokingly heads off to set the record straight.

As we settle down for sleep we discuss just walking 10kms tomorrow and as my eyes shut I think to myself 'I hope that isn't rain I can hear outside'.

Day Three Lorca – Los Arcos – 29km

2009-09-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

Albergue
€9- with the room just for the three of us and a bathroom that we only shared with one other room next door.
Dinner was cooked by nick with supplies from a mini market or “supermercado”.
Weather
The unseasonably hot weather continues. The camino can often have snow at this time of year but all we are finding is unrelenting heat.

Exhausted. Spent. Pain – oh the pain. I am more than in a world of pain. I am in my own planet of pain with my feet having their own solar system of pain such is the gravitational pull of the blister on my feet. Yes you heard me, blisters – but I am telling the end before the beginning so let me go back to the start of the day – before the pain.

We left the albergue at Lorca “La Bodega de Camino” and began walking. When we had paid for our accommodation the night before we were told breakfast was included. In the morning it turned out “breakfast included” translated to 'here is a vending machine which makes coffee and hot chocolate'. Still something hot and sweet was better than no fuel at all so with Aurelia already asleep again in the carrier in her polar fleece jumpsuit, parka, mittens and beanie (despite the heat of the day the mornings and evenings were cold) we walked out the door to rejoin the path.

Seeing the space invaders art everywhere

I had best explain how the camino is marked for pilgrims to follow. There are regional variations in the markings however the colour yellow is consistent across Spain. There are official stone markers which have a indigo blue square tile with a yellow clam shell on them. Street signs can also have the shell symbol on them. However in between these official markers the path is marked with yellow arrows which have been spray painted onto buildings, bridges, trees and stones. The idea of following a path of spray painted arrows seems ridiculous at home but here in Spain it was accepted without question. We joked to ourselves that the reason we didn't see a lot of grafitti in Spain was because punishment was the job of respraying the arrows on the camino!

Following the arrows we walked through orchards of fruit trees before once again the path narrowed to a thin trail winding through fields of wheat. In the Spring the fields were lush and green however in summer they would all turn to a dull boring brown. Lining the paths were bright red poppies.

As we continued to walk – and laugh at the Spanish use of astro-turf for their fences rather than growing a hedge – I heard Raya making singing noises in the carrier. Aurelia has a keen sense of hearing and will often sign 'bird' having heard one well before we have seen or heard it.

Sure enough a pilgrim walked past us – a young guy – who was carrying a guitar. Talk about each person doing the camino their own way. He took a photo of Aurelia and told us we were the first pilgrim he had seen carrying a baby – we laughingly told him he was the first pilgrim we had seen carrying a guitar. He walked with a 'I have all the time in the world” pace and it was nice to listen to his playing float across the fields as he walked on ahead of us.

Continuing on we passed the Ermita de San Miguel Arcangel and then the gravestone of Mary Catherine Kimpton, a Canadian pilgrim who was hit by a car and tragically killed on the path in 2002.

Crossing some beautiful wooden bridges and dodging an angry horse on the loose we walked up the hill and down into Estella. We stopped in the local playground to change into clothes suitable to wear during the day and to have breakfast. Aurelia was growing fond of the sugary pastries which were available in Spain and we suspected our little pilgrim may be developing a sweet tooth.

After a turn together on the swings and 30 mins for her to crawl around and stretch her legs we continued on with great expectation toward the Fuente del Vino – the wine fountain!

Aah the infamous wine fountain which flowed with free wine for pilgrims. It was a symbol of the hospitality with which the pilgrims are welcomed across Spain. The fountain had reached legendary status amongst pilgrims who had already walked the Camino. We were expecting a few days more of walking before we came across it.

Nick had envisioned a Trevi fountain sized, “swim underneath it with mouth open” style wine fountain. The reality was slightly more humble but no less enjoyed. Provided by the Bodegas Irache wine company, the fountain was a tap attached to what looked like a metal urinal on the wall. Nick was quick to empty one of our water bottles and fill it with wine – to save later for a picnic lunch on the side of the camino. Aurelia was keen to join in the fun and held out her water bottle for wine instead we filled it with the aqua tap from the wall. Other pilgrims we saw had decided that wine was effective treatment for their blisters and decided to stop next to the fountain and drink their fill. Knowing the red wine would only slow our pace further (plus I was breastfeeding Aurelia so no overindulging for me) we bid the wine fountain farewell and continued on

The path was “undulating” which is the guidebooks description of enough ups and downs to make the muscles burn weaving us through vineyards and short but steep inclines. Before long the undies were back on my head – my unattractive wide brimmed hat didn't allow for en0ugh air flow – and I felt myself overheating again. As a way of coping with my overheating we named the episodes 'chernobyls' as it really did feel like I was having a complete mental meltdown and my head was going to explode.

We paused briefly against the side of a barn for short respite from the baking sun, only to hurry on again when a huge ferocious dog came flying around the side of the shed thankfully a few cms short of sinking his teeth into our legs courtesy of the chain around his neck. Aurelia happily squealed and said “woo woo” - yes she was right – it certainly was a big “woo woo”.

We pushed on towards the steep 300m ascent into Villamayor, 17km into the days walk. This was the point at which most people were stopping for the day. We were dying for a toilet stop – the open fields had not lent themselves to a discreet wilderness wee and we stopped into the albergue as everything was closed in the town itself.

After a short sit inside the shade in the cool we considered our options. Stay here in the less than desirable alberque or push on to Los Arcos. Guitar boy and Wolfgang had decided to rest here for the night.

Los Arcos was 12kms on, with no town in between so it was Los Arcos or bust. We considered our feet which felt in great condition, no hot spots no blisters. Great. We looked at the elevation on the map and saw that it was downhill the entire way. Excellent. We then discussed that if day 3 was meant to be the hardest and we felt this great perhaps we were in better shape then we first thought and made the mistake, I mean decision, to walk on to Los Arcos

As we left the town the other pilgrims looked surprised we were going to walk on, it was 1pm or so and most pilgrims were stopping for the day. As our plan to leave the albergue early didn't seem to be working, it was taking us forever to get going in the mornings we explained that we were going to try and cover some extra kilometres in the relative cool of the afternoon while the terrain was easy. The pilgrims at the cafe nodded their heads in what we took to be signs of agreement.

The first part of the walk onwards was lovely. We passed through vineyards and the trail was flanked by walnut trees. It was here we sat with our cheese, wine and baguettes in the grass and had a picnic while aurelia chased butterflies unsuccessfully in the grass. Barbara and Judy walked past us and we told them we would see them is Los Arcos, they hadn't liked the earlier albergue either and they told us Los Arcos was meant to be home to one of the best alberques on the camino.

After a lazy picnic where the time got away from us courtesy of the free wine we had saved from the fountain, we began walking again. Aurelia tired from her playing went off to sleep again in the carrier and the road stretched on. It was flat, very flat and as Nick' shoulders started to bother him we decided to alternate – with me carrying the pack and Nick carrying Aurelia.

I managed the pack about 3km before my knees felt like they w0uld buckle under me. Nick was unbelievably strong to be carrying the pack the way he was –he truely was a packhorse. As we walked we played silly word games to pass the time. There were no other pilgrims on the path in front of us and we enjoyed this chance to walk alone.

7kms down and 5 to go my body started to tell me it wanted to stop – and soon. One glance at Nick told me his body was singing him a similar tune. Still at least Aurelia was happy. My feet started to burn and for the first time I felt those “hot spots' pressure points that people talk about prior to a blister developing. We decided to have short breaks but unlike before the breaks were not relieving the burning sensation and the pain in our feet when we recommenced walking felt excrutiating. It was a catch 22 – the pain made you want to stop walking but the pain of restarting walking after stopping was to bad to stop. Oh dear – we began to sense we had bitten off more than we could chew. Los Arcos – or bust !

We began to set our focus on a mountain or tree in the distance but the trail deceptively crawled around corners when it looked straight from afar so that the mountain you had set as your goal you now found you were moving away from.

We met three other spanish men walking with their dog Cora. Two of the men and Cora would take turns sleeping in a tent with the 3rd man going to sleep in an albergue. They looked like they too had underestimated the last 12kms. Yet since they had their own tent they at least had the option of sleeping in the fields.

With each step the pain increased. Now the knees and hips were joining in with our feet. The slow pace made Aurelia restless in the carrier and she had taken to standing up in the carrier and bouncing up and down. We were moving at a pace of 3kms an hour – snail pace. As the last kilometre approached I heard a strange wimpering noise and realised it had come from between my lips. My feet. My feet. My mind couldn't think beyond putting one foot in front of the other. Nick's face was frozen into an expression of rugged determination. There was to be no camping in the fields for us with a small child – we had to make it to an albergue – or bust. Please let it not be the bust we prayed!

Finally at 7pm we arrived into town. The first albergues we walked to were all full. I needed to get Aurelia dinner and put her into bed. Then I suspected I would pass out wherever I fell.

We found the albergue with the great reputation. Full. People came rushing around us to see Aurelia and the hosteliers were so disappointed that they wouldn't be hosting the “littlest pilgrim”. News of our arrival spread like wild fire as more and more people came to see Aurelia. I was ready to fall over and was in no mind for small talk. Embarassingly I suspected there could be even tears of exhaustion if I didn't get off my feet soon.The hostelero seeing our exhaustion pointed us to an albergue where he knew there were free rooms and we gratefully headed in that direction – crossing paths with Rob who had a troublesome Achilles heel and had slowed him and Jock down unexpectedly. They were stunned we had made the 29kms with the weight we were carrying.

Finally we found our rooms, organised food for Aurelia and put her to bed and then we showered. I stood under the shower as ice cold needle like drops of water fell on me and promptly burst into tears. We had pushed waay to hard and the cold shower was the final straw.

Composing myself I went back to the room and we assessed the damage. Aurelia was trouble free and her crawling was improving each day. Miracle of miracles Nick had pulled up with no blisters and after a bit of stretching his hips felt improved.

We glanced down at my feet and just looking at them hurt. The balls of my feet were entirely blistered and were burning despite the soak in the ice cold shower. Between my big and second toe there looked to be an extra toe which was in fact a ginormous blister. My feet were their own planet of pain and it felt like each blister had it's own pulse.The damage was no better on the other foot. The only reprive was that my heels had been spared from the blisters otherwise I wouldn't be able to put my boots on.
I popped the blisters and threaded them, took Ibuprofen, journalled briefly and rolled over to sleep.

The last thought before exhaustion took over was how on earth were we going to walk with my feet like this tomorrow.

Day Two Obanos – Lorca – 15km

2009-09-14T00:30:00.001-07:00

Albergue
€7
Pilgrim dinner €9.50 (the meal was horrible and best avoided)
Gorgeous albergue with rooms that had double beds for a higher price.
Free internet use
Kitchen facilities with washing machines
Blankets and earplugs provided and towels available for €2
Excellent hot water and bathrooms like you would find at home.

Weather
Extremely hot – t-shirts, singlet and shorts. If we could have walked naked we probably would have.

Aargh – we woke this morning to suspect that Panadol & Ibuprofen could be our sponsors for the Camino. Naturally this was to be expected after such a climb on the first day. Our feet, shoulders and butt muscles were well and truly informing us they were awake -and they were not happy about it!!
Aurelia on the other hand had no aching muscles since she was carried and (unlike us on being woken)was full of energy and smiles for Jock our roommate.

We had planned a shorter walk today (only 15km) as people had warned us to pace ourselves for the first 3 days and ease our feet in gradually to avoid blisters.

We slowly started packing up our gear ready for another day of walking. Apart from Jock and Rob, and one other lady we were the only ones left in the albergue. People who were walking longer distances had started their days earlier and would have most likely left at 6am. We on the other hand,allowing Aurelia to sleep as long as possible only just scraped out the door minutes before the 8am boot out the door occurred.

As we stood on the doorstep of the albergue and wished Jock and Rob safe travels all four of us noticed for the first time that the weather was less than desirable. We just looked at each other – rain! Straight back into our packs for rain jackets, ponchos and gortex gear. Now I was glad that I hadn't been up earlier walking in the rain like the other pilgrims would have been.

We knew now that the path would be muddy and slippery now broken up by all the other walkers but there was nothing we could do so we chose to focus on covering the first 3km as quickly as possible so we could grab a coffee and croissant.

Arriving in Puente la Reina we found a gorgeous bakery along the camino path and ordered breakfast. A friendly Italian at the bar told Nick he looked like Hugh Jackman when Nick stood beside him at the counter – not in the handsome Hugh kind of way – in the Hugh Jackman “Wolverine' character kind of way – Nick's hair really needed a cut and was looking particularly wild this morning. I almost laughed my coffee all over the table. Raya happily read the morning newspaper

Lingering over our coffees we faced the fact we were just dragging our feet and so we hauled on our packs and began the walk. Leaving the town we crossed the impressive medieval bridge to walk on through crop fields. Here we met an elderly man who was photographing the bridge. He told us he had walked the camino many times but never seen a pilgrim as young as Aurelia. He asked to take her photo and now explained he was driving the camino and was only there for the 'romance' of the camino – not the challenges. I suspect any 'romance' in an albergue would be a bit of a 'challenge'!

The path continued up through vineyards and we were passed by several locals on horseback who looked at us with incredulous looks on their faces. The rain had given way to sunshine -loads of it and the ground underfoot was steaming at the water evaporated under the baking sun.

Today we would learn that occasionally our guide maps did not give descriptions which we felt reflected the nature of the path. Today ours read “the path continues up' and you bet it certainly continued up!!!

This was a climb not even worthy of mention on the guide maps -just a little surprise the camino had thrown us for morning tea. What an absolute killer – very short but 200m elevation on a fine,pebbly,slippery road. When we made it to the top we added a stone to the monument at the top and remembered the words of an Irish pilgrim we had met on the first night “there are no tears on the camino – you must offer them up for your sins' Oh dear, we would then be having a lot of hills to climb and that was working off Nick's sins alone!!

The path continued along through vineyards and the scenery was gorgeous. We met one pilgrim who was walking towards us. People in front of us shouted to her “you're going the wrong way' to which she replied with a smile on her face and spring in her step 'No I finished, I'm walking back from Santiago”!!!

We spent most of the day walking near a German man named Wolfgang. I have a little German and he spoke a little English so we made basic communication and filled in the gaps with nods and smiles .As it would turn out we would come to be very friendly with Wolfgang as he was one of the few pilgrims keeping a similar pace to us.

Wolfgang was in his late seventies and we first me him when we were walking out of Pamplona on the first morning. We remember spying him walking ahead of us. An elderly man in dress slacks, a grey short sleeve T.- shirt with a yellow bandana tied around his neck and a soft material cap on his head. On his feet were mens dress shoes – no Teva sandals or hiking boots. He had a 60L pack(which he wore without using the hip belt) and a pillow case he carried over his shoulder full of possessions. He had snowy white hair which only accented his florid complexion.

We saw him walking slowly and puffing along and we had both slowed our pace to walk near him convinced he was moments away from a heart attack and we would both need to give him CPR.

How wrong first impressions can be! We found out Wolfgang,who saw no need for technical equipment, just 'a want to walk and listen' had begun his pilgrimage in Northern France. His credential when opened was full of hundreds of stamps and he was probably one of the fittest pilgrims of his age. He would beat us to most albergues and the heat didn't seem to alter his slow but steady pace along the path.

The heat continued to increase and Aurelia played happily in the carrier. When we had food stops she refused to eat, too busy exploring her surroundings. Once back in the carrier there were frequent taps on the shoulder to stop and “juice juice' demands to be met as there was nothing to distract her from feeling hungry. As a result our pace was slow.

After eating Aurelia was lulled back to sleep by the rhythm of the carrier and I got desperate to cool myself down. My body was reasonably warm however my head was boiling. Out of desperation I ended up soaking a pair of black undies in water and wearing them on
my head. I said the camino wasn't glamorous and for once I was glad to have a slow pace and to not have this witnessed by other pilgrims. Nick politely kept his laughter to a dull roar.

Only 1km short of Lorca the Camino threw us her second surprise of the day – this one slightly more welcomed than the first. A cool stream flowing under the bridge we had to cross.

We scurried down the side of the bank and whipped off our boots. Aaah to be able to soak our feet in the cool water was bliss. We had a picnic here and Nick taught Aurelia to skim stones on the water which resulted in pearls of laughter. While we numbed our feet Aurelia splashed in the water. Nick and I looked at each other and again spoke of how lucky we were to be here as a family sharing this moment.

When the water finally threatened to turn us into prunes we gathered our gear and walked the 1km incline up into Lorca. We discussed a new family game plan. With the heat being so extreme (we were being repeatedly told by locals how unusual the heat was) we were going to have to rise earlier in the morning to escape walking in the heat of the day.

Arriving in the albergue we sought out our beds and hot showers. My shoulders ached from the 14kgs I was carrying and I had absolutely no idea how Nick was managing his pack which was well over 20kgs. I was not surprised when several germans who had walked past Nick today had looked at him and said “respect man”.

We were tucked up in our sleeping bag liners by 8.30pm knowing the hardest day lay ahead of us tomorrow but comforted by the fact that if we did survive the experience, our extra luggage and clean clothes were awaiting us in Santiago.

Day One

2009-09-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

Pamplona – Obanos – 20km

Route
Today the walk passed through farmland and the remains of the Pamplona Basin. A steep climb through boxwood trees and coarse scrubland. We passed the slowly trickling Reniega spring. Following this was the steep ascent climb to Alto de Perdon at an altitude of 800m. Here is the monument erected to the pilgrims and windmills. Looking in the direction the camino continues the Valdizarbo valley lies beyond.

Albergue
€7
Area for handwashing. Shoes left at the door
1 shower/mixed sex bathrooms
1 Large dorm room and smaller dorm room with beds
Good hot water and kitchen facilities
No blankets or sheets provided

Weather
Extremely hot – t-shirts, singlet and shorts

Today our first day of walking was a fantastic if not challenging beginning to the Camino for us. We had risen early like all pilgrims (many had their alarms set for 5.30am) to walk early in the day and avoid the heat, arriving early at the albergues in the afternoon in time to purchase food for the next day and to then have an afternoon siesta.

We were excited to walk beyond the boundaries of the city and to see the fields stretch out in the distance ahead of us. A narrow dirt road winding through fields of wheat – this was the image we had in our heads of the camino.

It didn't take long for us to shed our layers of warmer clothing and to appreciate the trekking poles we had brought with us. To someone not walking they look a tad ridiculous but we found they really did make the walking much easier

Aurelia had her first 'side of the road' Camino nappy change and we were off again.
The weather leaving Pamplona was unseasonably warm and it didn't take long for us and the other pilgrims to be sweating like maniacs under the load of our packs. Aurelia was dressed in her UV50 protective suit and hat, with a light layer of clothing over the top, and did not seem phased by the heat at all falling asleep quickly again in the carrier after her early start to the day. My worries of how she would find the albergue accommodation the night before had proven unfounded and she slept through the night in her Kinderkot without a sound. This made her hugely popular with other pilgrims, many who had dropped by our bunk beds to comment on how wonderful she had been last night and wishing they could trade in the noisy snorers for a few more babies. Walking along the path we looked to the summit of Alto de Perdon and saw numerous windmills. Jokingly I had mentioned that perhaps our breakfast coffee would be at the top – it was the last time we joked about windmills as the statement turned out to be true!! It was also the longest walk I had ever made for a morning caffeine hit

As the walking continued the sun rose higher in the sky and shone down brightly. As gorgeous as the fields were the absence of trees along the winding path meant a lack of shade and the first mental challenge of the camino arose. What so soon we thought! Our bodies already were keen to sit and rest. How discouraging to feel our bodies struggle on the first day, even though everyone around us was struggling as well. Still they had walked for 3 days already and we were fresh – please don't let this be a sign of things to come we thought.

How could it be that people in their 60's and 70's were coping better than us. One look at the size of our packs compared to theirs gave us our answer!!

We(I) longed to sit down in the fields and drink all the water we were carrying (still breastfeeding Raya I was feeling quite dehydrated) however we also had the knowledge that the weather was only going to get hotter, the next town with an albergue was not going to get any closer and there was no other water apart from what we were carrying.

It was THE moment of realisation(with a tinge of panic) that we had to walk whether we liked it or not and the first of many “suck it up” moments on the path. Aurelia oblivious to our (my)overheating snored softly in the carrier on my shoulders.

Before we reached the foothills of Alto de Perdon we passed the monument of the pilgrim who passed away and we sat in the shade of the tree while aurelia crawled around amusing the other pilgrims. People commented that seeing her smiling face was refreshing and uplifting after a hard session of walking – and it was true – her gift to the other pilgrims.

There were numerous snails that crossed our path as we winded through the fields and I photographed one thinking how they were just like us – carrying all their possessions on their back and moving oh so painstakingly slowly!!

The ascent up Alto de Perdon was back breaking!! It was our first climb and there was little breeze on the Pamplona side of the hill. Reaching the top was a phenomenal moment -one I won't ever forget.

We had done it.

We had climbed one of the highest peaks on the walk and we were actually doing the very thing we had spent so long dreaming about. The sense of accomplishment was huge and we sat in the shade with other pilgrims, all exhausted, sweating but with small, energy saving smiles on their faces.

What goes up must come down and the muscles which we didn't use in the ascent we felt kick to life on the descent. The walk into Uterga was a comparatively easy one and our efforts were rewarded with a fantastic lunch at a pilgrim stop there

Aurelia made friends with the staff instantly who were shocked to see a happy, smiling, blonde baby pilgrim. The women gave her two small
key rings of a boy and a girl which she loved and once they were tied to the carrier stopped her from grabbing my ponytail and making “go go” noises like I was a horse while she was in the carrier. These were to be the first of many presents she collected from generous fellow pilgrims along the path.

Refreshed from lunch and having given our feet a rest from the last 15km we continued on knowing we only had 5km till we would arrive in Obanos – tired and sunburnt like all the other pilgrims.

When we arrived we found the albergue hostelier was rude and unhappy that we had Raya with us but, as their policy was to accept everyone, he took our money and grumbling to himself in Spanish put us in the smaller dorm room.

Nick took Aurelia off to the town park to play while I went to do the washing. Aurelia quickly involved herself in the games of the other local children despite the language barrier and showing no fear went down her first slippery slide all by herself.

The sexy sandals and socks look

While washing I met an Austrian man. He had taken off his boots at the top of Alto de Perdon and walked the descent on the stony path in bare feet, his shoes were hurting that badly. I couldn't believe he had made it and he informed me he was throwing his heavy walking boots away his feet were that blistered. One look at his feet had me silently praying we wouldn't have to walk with blisters like that.

I also met Judy and Barbara, two lovely women from the UK who we would come to befriend on the walk to Santiago.

Having washed and hung the clothes we changed into the single other clean change of clothe we had and we headed off to dinner. We met the first challenge of eating out with a small child in Spain. Spanish people do not sit down for dinner until quite late,well past Aurelia's bed time of 7pm. Still she travels brilliantly and was a happy little munchkin throughout dinner entertaining the table of French pilgrims throughout the evening with her dancing and smiles while they taught her a traditional French song they sing to children in France.

Tired as we were, we were already enjoying the simplicity of walk,wash, journal eat then bed.

We had 3km to reach Puente le Reina where we would have breakfast tomorrow and we bunked down to sleep sharing the room with Jock, the doppelganger for my brother in law Matt. Jock, an Aussie from Victoria, was walking the camino with his dad Rob and they were walking approx 35kms each day. They were both lovely blokes and we were sad that our slow pace meant we probably wouldn't cross paths with them again.

The thought of having done an extra 15kms on top of the 20kms we had done that day made the mind boggle.

Starting Day

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Albergue
Jesus Y Marie €5 p.person
Excellent condition
Free washing machine and the dryer €1.00
Internet access is available €1 for 20minutes.
Kitchen facilities
Plenty of beds, hotwater and modern well maintained bathroom facilities.
Pilgrim menu €10 p.person

“Today is Mothers Day at home and for my present I get to begin our travel to our starting point on the Camino – carrying Raya. In Sans Sebastian we found the Correos and posted our luggage to Santiago without any difficulty. Fingers crossed it makes it there safely – after 5 weeks I know I will be ready for a change of clothes.
Spain has a very cheap postal system. Our large boxes (big enough to hold my pack or a suitcase) were €6.00 to buy and the postage for two boxes was €12.

The bus ride was very comfortable and we arrived in Pamplona keen to find our first albergue. We found the local touristic office and they gave us easy to follow directions. We needn't have been concerned as we soon found the Camino was VERY well signposted.

Arriving at the refugio we were impressed with the facilities – but we were soon to learn we were spoilt by starting here in Pamplona – not all albergues are created equal. Checking in, we purchased our credentials and our shell. The Credential is a passport which is stamped at each albergue and is evidence that you have walked enough distance to qualify for the Compostela in Santiago (the minimum is the last 116km walked on foot regardless of your starting point and there are many who only walk the last 116km). The shell has become the symbol of the Camino and is tied to a walking stick or backpack to identify the person as a pilgrim. I tied mine to the back of Aurelia's carrier.

As we checked in we met an elderly man who was surprised to see Aurelia and was perhaps the first person to call her the “littlest pilgrim”. He claimed she was “beautiful” and her smile was “magic” and after filming her shuffling along on her bottom raced out only to come back with a postcard present for her. Right from the start she was warmly welcomed by the pilgrims we met.

Having Aurelia with us was a great conversation starter and we met several lovely people who we would never cross paths with again. One such lady was Alicia from the UK – who was walking with her mum. They had walked till they “couldn't move” and were the first people to remind us to “pace yourselves don't do what we did”. Due to time constraints they were catching the bus and just walking the last 100km after crossing the Pyrenees. They were in “awe” that we were attempting the walk with a child. We hope they made it to Santiago.

Our lack of fashionable clothing was not a concern once inside the albergue EVERYONE was dressed like we were and wicking fabric, Teva sandals and zip off pants were the new trend. Probably the only place where our clothing would look fashionable!!

After finding our beds we set out to have a look around Pamplona. We followed the path the bulls take to the stadium in the 'Running of the Bulls” festival each year and marvelled

The street that the bulls race straight down into the stadium

that people would place themselves in such narrow streets ahead of charging bulls. We wandered around the main square and bought our journals we wrote in each night and sat eating gelato in the afternoon sunshine. We also picked up some homeopathic cough syrup for Aurelia. She was in excellent spirits but the reluctance of the doctor in the Spanish hospital to give her antibiotics initially meant she was still carrying a nasty cough with her.

Walking back to the albergue before dinner we crossed through Pamplona's main square.

Around the outside of the square were simple wooden benches all occupied by the elderly men of the city. Sixty or seventy men sat laughing, smoking or rocking their grandchildren in their strollers taking in the last of the days sunshine. We guessed that we were catching a glimpse of a daily routine that had been happening for decades. It was a heartwarming sign to see so many elderly men – in their eighties in such good spirits. Their faces were sunbaked and wrinkled but they laughed with the enthusiasm of the young.

After a great pilgrim meal (3 course meal with wine for €10) we returned for an early night. Return late to the albergue and you will find yourselves locked out for the night as most albergues have a curfew for pilgrims.

I have to admit I was anxious about Aurelia sleeping in the albergue that first night. Even though she always sleeps through the night, tonight was the first test of sleeping surrounded by so many snorers (mind you she survives her fathers snoring) and with her cold I suspected she may wake during the night. I silently prayed that she would sleep through and as a Mother's day gift Nick settled her in the Kinderkot for me while I enjoyed a hot shower hoping it wasn't going to be my last one of the Camino.

We were endeavouring to have a camino experience as 'authentic' as possible and so for us this meant avoiding the pensions and hotels along the way, staying in the pilgrim accommodation (albergues) with all the other pilgrims.

The accommodation was bunk beds and we used our sleeping bags and ear plugs that night.

As I lay in bed I thought how happy we were to be walking the Camino. We both were looking forward to the simplicity of the adventure. Consult the map in the morning. Choose a town we aimed to walk too. Check there was an albergue on the map. Get dressed and walk. Stop when tired or hungry. No researching on the internet and spending time trying to find accommodation that fit the budget. Focusing simply on walking and being together – valued time to allow the mind to wander and stretch itself and enjoy just being together as a family without work and the hustle and bustle of day to day stresses impacting on us.

Where to begin?

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Initially we had planned to begin the Camino Frances (the French Way) at St Jean Pied de Port in France crossing the Pyrenees in two days to Roncavelles.

This is the traditional starting point for most people however the pilgrimage can begin 5 weeks earlier in France in Le Puy making the Pyrenees the half way point. We also met people who had begun in Germany and one man who had walked from Russia!

However we needed to be flexible and adapt these plans as Aurelia was unwell with a chest cold when we arrived in Spain. After much consideration we changed our plans and travelled from Sans Sebastian to Pamplona.

We used the CIA LA RONCALESA bus company and our ticket cost us €6.50. The buses depart every hour (in summer only) and tickets can be purchased around the corner from the bus station for people travelling outside of summer months.

The decision to begin in Pamplona is not one we regretted. Pilgrims we met who had travelled over the Pyrenees spoke of rain, hail and mud up to their knees. Unfortunately this year alone 3 pilgrims have died on the trail, simply becoming confused and losing their way.

We were not willing to take any unnecessary risks while walking the Camino and so taking into consideration the needs of all family members a modified starting point was the solution. The distance to be walked from Pamplona now approximately 700km to Santiago.

Preparation

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We don't want to sound like the 'know it all' adventure parent giving out obvious advice to travel 'newbies' as we still feel like newbies ourselves. Each person, couple and family is unique and will make decisions and preparation that suits them. However a lot of pilgrims were curious about this part of the experience and these are some of the steps we took prior to walking the Camino.

We believe that adventures don't have to stop once children come along however for them to be enjoyable they just require a little more forethought.

Preparation for travel with a young child is essential. It can be divided into mental preparation and physical preparation. BOTH forms need to be considered hand in hand with a healthy dose of common sense.

Mental Preparation
Do the research – and then do more research. We read books, spoke to people who had walked the Camino, trawled Camino internet forums for advice and tips and gave serious thought to what we were undertaking.

Plan a back up plan. Know how you will reach help in an emergency.

Make sure your first aid knowledge is up to date

Accept that there is no RIGHT Camino path – and be prepared to be flexible. Plans change, illness occurs and everyone's experience is unique. This acceptance of the need to possibly be flexible will prevent disappointment and allow you to enjoy YOUR Camino.

Know your own strengths and weaknesses. When travelling as a family you need to know yourself as individuals and parents well, as your responsibility extends beyond yourself always. You need to ensure at the end of the day you have not emotionally and physically exhausted yourself as the needs of your children continue to be there despite how many kilometres you have trekked. Ensure you have emotional reserves.

Plan how you will give your child a sense of security and routine whilst being on the move each day eg we took the Kinderkot so she had the same sleeping space each night ensuring that she slept through the night each night.

Physical Preparation
There is a wealth of information available regarding this. However the steps we took for walking as a family were;

Research the right equipment extensively. We looked for clothing with the best suitability for the trek and this was difficult having a small child as many trekking clothes only were made in larger sizes. We obtained travel specific gear such as the Kinderkot for Aurelia to sleep in as well as taking the Little Beetle Travel Highchair.

Purchase the best equipment you can afford. Do NOT scrimp on boots or socks as you will be relying on your feet to get you across Spain.

Choose the best way to transport your child – taking your needs and theirs into consideration. For us personally this was having Aurelia in the Kathmandu carrier and condensing our gear into one pack. Other families we met had chosen to take their children in offroad buggies, or small trailers which attached to bicycles.

Train for the walking. You need to break your boots in WELL in advance of the journey.

Prepare your child for travelling long distances. We averaged out the approximate distances we would be walking each day expecting an average of 14-16 kms on an easy day, approx 20 kms on a longer day. We then mapped out routes around our house of 10-15kms and we would put Aurelia in the carrier and walk 10kms after dinner most days of the week. This allowed us to see how comfortable Aurelia found the carrier.

Train in different weather conditions. We walked in the rain with Aurelia and in the heat. This showed us how effective the equipment we were planning to use was and what measures we would need to take when trekking. It also allowed us to observe how well she tolerated different situations. You do not want to discover your child is petrified to be in the carrier when it is raining when you are 17kms to the next town and it starts raining on the Camino. Thankfully for us, Raya handled all weather conditions with far less complaining then we did and was not upset at all.

Pack a child specific First Aid Kit and ensure all immunisations are up to date prior to departure. Check the immunisation schedule of Spain and see how it compares to your own country and whether your child needs anything extra prior to leaving home.

Ensure you have a fungal cream in your first aid kit as we found this extremely difficult to obtain in Spain.

Pack lightly. This sound obvious but I CANNOT emphasise it enough. Travelling with a child requires extra equipment so you as the parents will have to cut down on what you can take. Nappies, baby wipes and baby food was easily found all along the Camino. Remember to factor in toys – we took finger puppets, small books and balloons for her to play with as they were all light.

At a maximum your packs should be no more than 10% of your body weight. Don't even ask how heavy ours were – they were heavier than anyone elses we met on the Camino plus Aurelia just continued to get heavier as we went lol. Accept that yes you will be wearing the same clothes every second day – there is nothing glamorous about trekking!! Also allow for the weight of water you will need to carry each day into the total weight of your pack.

We used the Camino Travel Centre in Santiago run by Ivar - a former pilgrim – for luggage storage. He runs a helpful friendly service where he will store a box of. luggage for 60 days for 15 Euro. Check out his website here. We couldn't have made it to Santiago without his service.

Practice by bushwalking – walking on the road is not ideal preparation for the uneven paths on the Camino Frances.

Allow more time than necessary for the walk and factor in rest days. We planned for 5 weeks of walking (turned out we only need a month) but having extra time allowed for shorter days and more play time for Aurelia each day out of the carrier.

We used a series of maps which we purchased with a guide book. While helpful, if

looking to cut down on weight, the maps are not necessary as the path is so clearly marked. While not necessary because information is available all along the path what would we did find helpful were the lists that other pilgrims had of all the albergues along the path – and this can be found at the Confermity of St James website. In addition to this terrain or altitude maps were available which allow you to plan for the harder days of walking. The total of the information can be condensed into 2 A4 pages.

People of all ages successfully complete the Camino. The terrain itself is generally
easily managed as well as people pace themselves and walk at their own speed.

While preparation is essential the most IMPORTANT point on this list is flexibility as the Camino has the ability to challenge you in ways you don't expect and a willing attitude to take on these challenges is your most important resource.

“Walking your own path” is an expression which describes the trekking of the Camino perfectly.

INSPIRATION

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So what inspires a young family to undertake a modern pilgrimage of hundreds of kilometres across a foreign country?

We found that on the Camino the desire to know what motivated us all as individuals from different nations, nationalities and walks of life to all be walking the road together at the same point in time, was probably the most common question. We found the answers as diverse as the individuals themselves.

Personally my interest in the Camino was sparked when we went into a Sydney trekking store to buy our packs – our wedding gift to each other at the time. We had planned a long overseas adventure following our marriage and the packs seemed to represent the adventures and excitement we hoped would fill our marriage. In the store we saw a poster giving an overview of the Camino and we were served by a man who had walked the Camino with his wife. His description made me instantly curious about this modern day pilgrimage and I became keen to find out more.

I also was motivated by the physical and mental challenge of walking the Camino. Having been in a car accident and struggled for many years to overcome the injury and live a pain free life I was curious to see how my body would survive the experience and to see whether I was as mentally tough as I felt I was.

For Nick, he read “The Pilgrimage” by Paulo Coelho – a recount of his walking of the path and became interested in following the same journey at some point. When he found the information at the store Trek and Travel and I too was keen to walk – we included it into our plans for overseas travel.

Here is an extract from "The Pilgrimage" p.58 that inspired us

“It is the pleasure of searching and the pleasure of the adventure. You are nourishing something that’s very important-your dreams. We must never stop dreaming. Dreams provide nourishment for the soul, just as a meal does for the body. Many times in our lives we see our dreams shattered and our desires frustrated, but we have to continue dreaming. If we don’t, our soul dies… …

The Good fight is the one we fight because our heart asks it of us…

…The Good fight is the one that’s fought in the name of our dreams. When we’re young our dreams first explode inside us with all of their force, we are very courageous, but we haven’t yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight, but by then we no longer have the courage to go into combat. So we turn against ourselves and do battle within. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams were childish, or too difficult to realize, or the result or our not having known enough about life. We kill our dreams because we are afraid to fight the good fight.

As for our littlest pilgrim, well our original plans did not include her. However she was determined to be included on our adventures and we were ecstatic to fall pregnant earlier than we had planned. Our travel plans as a couple now grew to become travel plans as a small family.

So that is what led us to the Camino in the Spring of 2009.

Welcome

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Welcome to our blog about our family adventure walking the El Camino Frances across Spain this past Spring.

The trek was a family adventure and our travellers numbered three – myself (30), Nick “the packhorse” as he referred to himself (30) and the “Littlest peregrino” or “littlest pilgrim” our 1 year old daughter Aurelia.

We have started this blog at the request of fellow pilgrims we met along the road who shared our adventures and who also grew to love our “littlest pilgrim”. It is also a way to show family and friends why we chose to walk "such a bloody long way".

The title for the blog came from the frequent greeting of “oh it's the littlest pilgrim” that Aurelia would receive as we walked the path each day meeting new people or when we arrived at alberques each night. Therefore as we became known as the “Australian couple with the baby” or “Aurelia's parents” we felt it appropriate to name it after her.

We are a young family from Sydney, Australia with a desire to travel and live life passionately. Nick is a mental health nurse, I am a special education teacher and Aurelia – well her full time job at the moment is just growing more and more delightful as a toddler.

We have paused to reflect on the experience before writing this blog as some of the lessons learnt have come with time and reflection rather than writing the blog each day as we travelled.

The content of the blog however will come from the daily journals we kept as we walked. The daily entries detail the kilometres walked, our start and finishing town and details on the alberque (when energy allowed us to record them).

There are numerous informative blogs about the camino which detail the history of the towns we walked through. While we found this fascinating and it certainly contributed to our experience of walking the camino we have not included it as this is not the focus of our blog and there are plenty of others which do a far better job of it than we would.

We have a regular travel blog and you can find it at www.geeyourebrave.blogspot.com which details our travel adventures as a family on a daily basis as we travel from Australia, to relocate on a working holiday visa, to the UK.

Check it out and hopefully you will find it an interesting read.

All the people photographed (where there face is shown) gave their permission to be included on our blog.

We hope you enjoy this blog, feel inspired and encouraged to seek out your own adventures whether they be as an individual, couple or family like us.

Buen Camino !
Chelle, Nick and Aurelia.