Today’s hike was about the same distance as yesterday’s, but with less elevation gain. It took 5 hours of strenuous hiking, not 10.

Difficult, but not as difficult as yesterday.

There were a few very long and steep climbs, but the real challenge was the terrain—long stretches of weathered stone, with no obvious foothold, complemented by loose gravel.

As I would learn, weather, elevation, distance, and terrain are perhaps the most important variables in any given stage of the Camino.

I was one of the lucky few to get a bed in Zubiri. I am writing this from the top bunk at an albergue (a kind of hostel for adults). The top bunk would not have been my first choice, but I was happy to have a bed.

The Camino is very busy this week. About 350 people started from SJPdP on the same day as me. Those who didn’t pre-book have to find a bench or a patch of grass by the river or hike to another town. Almost nobody hikes with a tent here, because of the weight.

My friend John from the UK was not able to get a bed in town, so is stuck with another 5km hike to the next village. He’s a strong hiker, so I’m sure it will be okay.

John is a very recently retired English as a Second Language teacher, who spent several years working in Spain. We have a running joke about the peccadillos of Spanish culture, such as the variable nature of distance signs. Sometimes a destination will be 5 km away, then 6, then 3, then 3 again. I imagined that this had something to do with elevation or GPS, but John thinks perhaps the Spanish engineers simply tend not to check their work.

The albergue is nicer than I expected. It’s in a very old building with rustic beams and stone walls. The co-ed sleeping arrangements are communal. 30 or so of the people (mostly women) in my area have traveled together from Korea.

I had my first pilgrim’s meal tonight, served at long tables with 11 of your new best friends. There was no common language in our group. I sat in the middle, and spoke French at one end of the table and English at the other. (Nobody could understand the Irishmen).

We played a game of “find St. James the Greater” in the mural on the wall of the dining hall. Not that easy, as there were two Jameses among the 12 disciples. Finally, we picked out the bearded figure with the staff and gourd, deciding he was the obvious choice. (James the Lesser had a smaller staff and no beard).

I hope I don’t have to climb down the spindly ladder in the middle of the night. I already have my earplugs in, as the night’s serenade of snoring has begun.

Tomorrow brings another 23 km hike, to Pamplona.