Tippy Toe

On this walk through nature, sometimes nature calls. It's important, if travelling with someone, that you have a lookout, should some unexpected fast walker come around the bend whilst you are in the middle of your business. Of course you also need a way to communicate the fast walker is coming around the bend with a code. We chose Tippy Toe in deference to a Seinfeld episode.

We never got to use it as you get a good feel for your position in the race to the next town. You go past people, other people go past you and on it goes.

So yesterday, after about 3km, we caught up with an older Australian couple, who from the previous day we knew were slower walkers. We stopped briefly and they continued on at the top of the hill. 

30 seconds later and about 20 metres ahead of us, I noticed them  quickly step behind a poplar. Passing a quick glance, the situation was her squatting and reaching for a roll of toilet paper, and him standing right next to her being useless. Come on, at least assume the lookout position man. Know your position and give her a chance of a private moment in nature. And not a tippy toe to be heard.

Forfeit or The Lycra Doesn't Lie

What looked like a forfeit for not having enough players to start the game has turned into a famous victory.

Is there anything that a piece of cake for breakfast can't do?

Just prior to breakfast, the editor was not sure she could start the game today and was considering a bus to Pamplona. Seems like the banana cake for breakfast did the trick.

An 8:40am departure on what the sign said was a 20.5 km walk. It's pants are now on fire.

The "flat" stage sure threw in some uphill early, just to see how our tired legs would feel. Unfortunately, late in the day it also threw in some bigger hills.

Once you start, there is no other way, so as poor as she felt, Annette kept going to the point of near exhaustion and in need of a toilet break a lot earlier than Google revealed one to use.

Earlier I had eaten yesterday's leftover ham and cheese baguette that was mainly stale and may or may not have spent the night next to the heater.

This leg of the trip had nowhere to get food apart from a random vending machine and a couple at the top of the last big climb with an Esky who sold me a well deserved Coke. 

It was probably the most varied types of paths we had encountered and probably the least scenic.

One path was particularly narrow and of course today was the day that lycra on bikes was on the trail. They would pass you, then get off their bikes to walk over rocks, so we kept catching them. At the vending machine, I wanted to take a profile picture of the guy with the super big gut and loose fitting lycra down under, but I hope to erase this memory so didn't. The lycra did not lie. It was not good.

Annette was fuelled by a Le Snak. That's not enough but her dodgy stomach said it was enough.

The last 5km were flat but our legs are failing us. One wrong turn cost us extra metres but we finally crossed the river and we're nearly there.

And then we hit the last big hill with a speed camera at the summit just to mock us.

One seemingly final irony was entering our hotel. Seriously?

Our room is on the 3rd floor. There are steps leading to the lift, and stairs after. Sigh. The pain is real.

The Editor slept, I watched the Big Bang Theory in Spanish and we headed out for dinner. Too many choices and not enough desire to eat led us to a supermarket of sadness. Annette and her dodgy tummy enjoyed a salad, my Russian Salad on bread rolls rated a 4/10, the Portuguese tarts were nice and for the first time on holidays, Pepsi Max made an appearance.

My body wants to sleep but it's also threatening to cramp. Something to look forward to.

Not so hilly

It's 6:22pm. I'm cold and lying on my single bed, wrapped in a blanket because it's so cold in this room and the heater less than a metre away is mocking me by refusing to do what its name suggests. 

How did I get here?

Depending on who said what, some 21.5 to 22.5 km ago, or roughly 37,000 steps, we started leg 3 of the walk (the flat stage)

The sign said 20.7, the app 21.34 and final result was 22.46 km.

All brekkied up on a ham and cheese croissant (the editor went with cheese and ham), toast with jam, OJ, a yoghurt and a coffee or tea depending on your personal beliefs, we hit the trail.

It started nicely, had some hilly (up) moments, various terrain, different paths, some great views and a demoralising last 5 km.

There were some cute little towns that were left with less pastries than before we arrived, a welcome toilet, a coffee machine, and our left over bananas from breakfast to help us conquer the distance. 

The last 5 km were yuk, downhill to 26 degree slopes that, at the end of a long day, played havoc with all those body parts that were hurting.

Still lots of cows and horsies to see (many ponies had cowbells, or as they are now called in these days of political correctness gone crazy, Farm Animal Noise Making Musical Instruments). Try putting that on the back cover of "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult.

Farm animal noise-making musical instruments

But we made it, found our hostel, couldn't get in until we tracked down the caretaker, and then got sent out to the footpath to stamp our feet to dislodge the mud we had collected.

Hallelujah, after the walk we have a downstairs room. Of course we had to walk up a very squeezy spiral staircase to register. Sigh.

We went looking for a shop but failed. We found somewhere for breakfast tomorrow, The Editor bought some milk so that she could re-tea her depleted body, I may have eaten a packet of Shapes (at least we don't have to carry them tomorrow) and in 9 minutes we will search for a restaurant down the road. 

I will report back later ... the coughing coming from the other side of the room is a worry.

The only restaurant we found was locked. We went to the cafe next door and settled for whatever these are:

Another tea and a hot chocolate and it's bed time, although in late breaking news, the shower sucks and has given me something to look forward to tomorrow. 

My calf muscles hurt. I want  to sleep but sunset at 9:50pm is an hour away and whilst once cold, it's now boiling. 

Holidays are fun.

Oh wait, the heater is now working.

Onwards and upwards

Bag left in the lobby before 8am and off to brekkie we went. "Lots of hills" we were told so we ate up big. Bacon and eggs and toast and juice and caffeine.

Around 9 we departed, out of town to the left, on a quest that would take 5 hours. Sometimes walking was on the main, windy (that's windy, not windy, as to say that there were bends and not wind) road. Then we would end up on little roads, then on narrow tracks with 20 metre drops to the river below. 

I regaled the Editor with stories from the 70s of Hammy Hamster (Tales of the Riverbank). She pretended to listen.

The main focus of the day was "up". There was lots of it. Kilometres 5 to 8 were tough but the Revvies we had gave us the caffeine kick that we needed.

I've never been a big fan of bush walking, as in Australia flora comes with fauna and I associate that with venomous creatures. Apart from a cat, the only animals we've seen so far have been from nature mocking us.

Oops, forgot about cows and sheep and ponies.

Today's walk was good. Thank you nature.

We pressed on through the forests, happy in the realisation that rain had not reared its ugly head today. That would make the tracks a bit tricky. 

At the top of the climb we met a young guy from Australia who had done the mountain pass through the snow. We chose wisely in going the alternate route.

Finally we found our accommodation and decided to eat outside. 

On ordering, Annette was asked her name so that they could call it out when the order was ready. Unfortunately, after more than 5 hours walking uphill, understanding and speaking are not one of her strong points. The waiter decided to call us Raul.

There is not a male amongst us who has not fantasised about being Raul, the Pool Guy. Wait a minute. Did I write that out loud? Where is the delete button?

More chips, soup for me, and calamari at 1km altitude was possibly a wise decision.

Our bags turned up. Hooray for efficiency. The people who keep putting us on the second floor to make us carry the bag up the stairs at the end of the day are beginning to annoy me. We did a quick tour of the town, because it's mainly just a place where walkers pass through and I'm hanging out for dinner. Last night's pasta carb loading plus chicken and dessert worked, so that's what I might do ahead of tomorrow's 21km not quite as hilly walk. 

My last two walking shirts have taken on an unpleasant odour and my hat has taken it a step further. I have shampooed the hat in an attempt to get it to Pamplona, where a suitable "rest of the holidays" replacement hat will be found.

We managed to watch 10 minutes of Taskmaster before the wifi pooed its pants.

Footnote: last night some people were trying to unlock our door. I kept yelling that they had the wrong room. They kept trying, I kept yelling and they only listened once they had unlocked the door and slightly opened it.

Carb loading done, over 2 hours to sunset, the room is so so hot and I need to sleep at 7pm. I am ashamed. Will keep in touch in half a marathon.