Day 2: Roncesvalles to Villava

There is a sign just outside Roncesvalles, the first stop in Spain on the Camino de Santiago, that says "Santiago de Compostela - 790km". Why this sign is there, I don't know. Is it to taunt the pilgrims? To impress the drivers? Answers on a postcard, please.

I was surprised to see none of my companions in the Albergue in Roncesvalles bought any breakfast to take on the road (there wasn't much to choose from, but the restaurant sold bread rolls that would have sufficed). As I passed Burguete, the town everyone had planned on having breakfast in, just half an hour after left (at 7.30am), I didn't feel ready to stop. However, the next town Espinal had nothing open. I had my bread, but I felt for my companions who had left on an empty stomach. It wasn't until Viskarret, nearly three hours after I'd left, that I found somewhere else to stop for something to eat.

It was shortly before Viskarret that I met Marilo, a 33 year old Spanish girl from Castellon. We walked at more or less the same pace, but while I normally edged past her, she would repass me when I stopped for a drink. Her pace was relentless!

A fun game to play is to wave at passing motorists, to goad them into something resembling a friendly response. This is easy in France, but less so in Spain. Spaniards who spend a lot of their time on the road tend to hate themselves and everyone around them. Try dealing with a Spanish taxi driver or bus driver and you'll see what I mean. Note that your inappropriate good humor may result in a heart attack. I'm not saying that is a reason not to do it, many of these life-haters may welcome a premature death, but just be careful to judge well the trajectory of the out-of-control car.

I made good pace early on and expected to get to Larrasoana by about midday. But the path got harder and my pace slackened. It was demoralising to see my targets for the last few villages slip by. The final stage, between Zubiri and Larrasoana, lasted forever. It was ugly (a big mine dominated the view) and had little cover, which meant my arms were starting to burn in the unseasonably high temperature. I used my neckerchief to cover the arm most exposed to the sun, but it didn't work very well.

I arrived at Larrasoana, our planned destination for the day, at about 1.40pm. Marilo had already discovered that the hostel wouldn't open for another hour-and-a-half and there was nothing to eat in town at all. Marilo was considering continuing but I was feeling the effects of the sun. My arms were red. Plus, my knees were beginning to suffer, mainly from the steep descents. But Marilo gave me some sun cream, which saved my arms just in time, so I decided to brave the 11km it would take us to reach Villalva.

Marilo continued at her clockwork pace, but I was flagging. I should have let her walk on, but I needed the moral support. The conversation kept me going or, when the path detoriorated, I stared at her heels and followed each step of hers with one of my own.

Finally, at about 4.30pm, we arrived in Villava, where cyclist Miguel Indurain was born. We stayed in a monastery, were the very friendly attendant called us "little brother" and "little sister" repectively. Ate dinner with a Frenchman carrying a baguette and fell asleep before 9pm.

See also Camino de Santiago Guide

Previous Camino de Santiago Blogs:
Day 0 | Day 0 (second) | Day 1

^{Tweet this article or add @gospain to Twitter
Share this post
Become a fan of About.com Guide to Spain Travel}