Day 8: The Magic Pool (Los Arcos to Logrono) Setting out from Los Arcos this morning we picked up a stray, a mousy, little Italian named Claudio. He's a 52 year old who has an affinity for saying the wrong things in front of women and embaressing a wide contingent within albergues, it's actually quite impressive. With Claudio jabbering away at the rear of our brigade we strode away from the sun rise towards the distant Logrono, the capital of the Rioja Prov...

Day 7: Hot Weather and Gravel Paths (Estella to Los Arcos) With Paolo and Khalid laced up and stretching homosexually with each other, we started off to Los Arcos, a fairly simple 25km jaunt away - soporific and horizontal. Glorious. We did have vague aspirations of trudging a little further, perhaps to Torres Del Rio, but we would assess our legs as we got nearer. All three of us have matching left leg straps in a myriad of colours, we look like a page from a...

Day 6: Italian Cuisine in Spain (Puente La Reina to Estella) The Spanish bloody love their Fiestas, at 6 this morning, setting out bleary eyed from my albergue and chewing contentedly on some cold marmalade on toast, there were hundreds of them still littering the street and clambering into coaches back to Estella and Pamplona! I was wildly impressed with their fortitude! Very early on in today's walk I happened upon a baby faced Arabian named Khalid. Despite...

Day 5: Sore Feet and Bull Fighting (Villava to Puente La Reina) Shaking Peter's hand I stepped out onto the dark streets of Villava in the hope of finding Pamplona's City skyline sooner rather than later. With my walking poles methodically strumming the ground I made good pace and arrives at Pamplona withing 45 minutes. Rather intimidating, the pavements were plagued with mobs of young and intoxicated teenagers and I had to politely prod some aside with my wal...

Day 4: A Blistery Trek (Espinal to Villava) Waking up this morning at a spritely 5am I had a foul look on my face, I am HATING this! It's lashing down with rain, my shoulders and legs are killing me and I've got a 25km trek in front of me. Having grumbled away the morning in 4 long hours of hiking I finally arrived at Zubiri, a small town in the heart of a lushious green (and wet) valley. The only road in and out was the black smear that I had followed for ...