My feet hurt

So I´m in Viana, at the end of day four, and I was on the computer at the albergue--writing an entry such as this one--and the power went off. Then it went off two more times. I gave up and walked to a nearby bar, and now I´m in the dark and smelly back room. No ambience, but I am writing--which I have seriously missed over the last five days. I find I need to write about my days.

Last Monday I took a train from Burgos to Hendaye, just across the French border, made a connection to Bayonne, with five minutes to spare, then a connection from Bayonne to St. Jean Pied de Port with two minutes to spare. The last was single car train that putt putted up into the western end of the Pyrenees (more hills than mountains), stopping briefly at the numerous villages. I arrived late in St. Jean, so the three good albergues were full, and I had to stay at the sad one with bad lighting. There are hordes on the Camino. Tonight at the albergue here in Viana I have a mat on the floor in the big dining room, because all the regular beds are full.

That first night, in St. Jean, was my first of the last four nights in bunk beds, in rooms filled with other bunkbeds--six or seven that first night, over sixty the next night in Roncesvalles. You can´t believe the snoring.

I won´t go into the first day yet--except to say that it involved a 4000 foot elevation gain, up to where a whirling mist limited visibility to 30 or 40 feet. Very dramatic.

In the four days since I started I´ve walked 94 miles, which is a bit ridiculous--and as a result my feet are sort of a mess. Muchas ampollas (blisters). But I´ve had reason for the long distances. Two nights ago I fell in with an American guy, Christoph (28), and an Italian man, Lino, who is 69 and who has done the Camino on foot and by bicycle a number of times. He plans to complete the Camino in 20 days this time, which requires him to average 25 miles a day. While he´s been a great guide, he´s also been a relentless taskmaster. But both Christoph and succumbed to his substantial charm--for a time. I´ll not be matching his pace tomorrow. I don´t think I could. I have the stamina, the legs, but my feet are troubled at the moment.

Well, none of this really says much about the Camino, but my time is running short. I hope to move along more leisurely in the coming days, and to have more time to write.