On to Roncesvalles

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Christine, Faye and I left Villa Goxoki together in good spirits. Faye said a little prayer and we joined arms together.

We were not alone, there was a crowd of people walking and at times it looked more like the Mall on the Queen's jubilee!

As we walked I soon decided not to take photos as, to do justice, I would have to shoot a constant reel.

As we went up the hill there was a mosaic of white with red rooves in the valleys nestling amongst the magnificent mountains. It was like a rumpled duvet of patchwork green with undulating mounds of hill in light relief below the mountains and scattered with the occasional hillside house.

On the other side of the Camino it was more titanic with an array if bigger mountains. As we went further round the corner there was a big ripple of hills like a green velour kilt spread out to show the peaks and troughs of the pleats and the odd soft curve.

We could hear the occasional clear bark of a dog which carried in the pure air. It felt a bit like the dig telegraph from 101 dalmations.

A timpani of cow bells greeted us from the hillside. It wasn't the harsh clang of metal on metal but the hollow sound of the kettledrum and a kite glided silently across what was now the clear blue sky.

Then 'Babe' ambled down the hill to greet me.

For the last km or so we went down a steep track through a beech wood.

Rucksack is really giving some gyp. It was a costly mistake as, although I love the colour and different compartments and went to a well known out door shop that specifies they advise on backpack fitting it isn't suitable for me. I'm going to try and do something about it at the earliest opportunity which unfortunately won't be for a couple of days.

I knew I wasn't ascetic before I starts this pilgrimage and its definitely been confirmed. No hair shirt or flagellation for this lady!!

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