Day 16 GR1 Sos Dey Rey Catolico

Pathetic but true, I'm lying on my bed writing this blog when there are people outside my window, dressed up in medieval outfits, playing pipes and banging drums. I've arrived in Sos on the day they celebrate the thing for which the town is famous for, the birthplace of Fernando the Catholic on the 10th March in 1452 (I guess today is the nearest Saturday). It's been a tough 38 kilometre walk and to be honest I need to rest my feet - I'm just too knackered to go out and enjoy the fun.

Actually this is a very interesting place and a sensible person would stop here for a day and take it in. It's an old fortress town on top of a hill and much of the wall and all of the gates are still intact. The medieval street pattern inside the walls is still there as is the castle, with its watch tower, and Romanesque church, and a second watch tower centred on the Sada palace. It's all been carefully restored and must be packed out in the summer. Despite all the men in tights it was fairly quite when I wandered around trying to find the hotel.

Day 15 GR1 to Ujue

Short 17 kilometre walk today distinguished more by the destination than the journey.

Sunny weather, clear blue skies, but still cold.

Leaving Olite

Day 14 GR1 to Olite

Weather wise it's different but not really any better. The cold north wind which dominated yesterday has abated; today it's been a mix of heavy wintry showers interspersed with sunshine.

The first of the wintry showers came just as I was finishing my breakfast - more a blizzard than a shower. The Spanish men drinking their kick start coffees seemed to be mildly amused to see a mad Englishmen preparing to go out in the snow whereas the landlady and her daughter showed much warmer hearts and were genuinely concerned. When I insisted on going, but left my walking poles behind, they came running after me, giving a hands on a steering wheel impression, and saying they would drive me Olite.

The church in Larraga

Of course it wasn't that bad and within minutes the sun was out and I was at the church in the centre of Larraga getting my departure bearings.

Day 13 GR1 to Larraga

Not such an interesting day, it was very cold, there was a strong biting wind and it snowed for most of the morning.

To be honest there was not that much incentive, in terms of the scenery, to take your gloves off, get the camera out and take a picture. It was fairly flat and the scenery was the same from one end of the walk to the other.

Generally speaking the route went due east, the right direction for the Mediterranean. It did however do a huge U bend in the middle of the morning and for no apparent reason. It could have been an excuse to visit the remains of a Roman Villa, which unfortunately was shut, or to take in a little wetland park (the four resident ducks flew off before I could say hello). Alternatively the route planners might have wanted me to meet the scariest dog in Spain. It was huge, very upset and being egged on by two normal sized dogs which were about a tenth of its size. If the fraying bit of rope holding it back had snapped than the monster dog would definitely have ended my trip along the GR1.

One thing I have worked out is the settlement pattern in Navarre is basically the same as the one I got used to when I walked through Spain a couple of years ago. The countryside seems empty with people living in small densely backed towns which are often some distance apart. I guess this is either to do with lack of water or the historic need to find a defendable location. What it means is that the towns are more than big enough to sustain a bar, or three in the case of Allo, which is where I stopped for my mid-day break. My concerns about the demise of the Spanish rural bar have happily been exaggerated.

Another big detour in the afternoon, but that was probably driven by the need to find somewhere to cross the Rio Ega. Anyway once I got past the interesting abandoned farmstead at Baigorri it was a straight run through a gale to Larraga.

Despite my rucksack and walking poles the landlady at the hotel wanted to know where my bike was. I can see her point. On a less windy day Navarre would be perfect for cycling. The countryside perhaps is not quite interesting enough for walking but if you were cycling this would matter less and you would get the chance to visit more of the towns.

If you want to see where I went today, another 40 kilometre plus day, than please go to target="_blank" href="http://my.viewranger.com/track/details/Mjc1ODIy">linkthe following

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Day 12 GR1 to Los Arcos

Today I wasn't expecting a great deal. The weather forecast had been terrible and from the initial look out of the window it looked right.

After a help yourself breakfast, leave your key in the letterbox departure, I was out the door, hood up, defying the rain and on my way by 8.30.

Day 11 GR1 to Santa Cruz de Campezo

It was bitterly cold as I walked into Lagran to post the refuge key in the Council letterbox. I'd breakfasted on cupcakes which Aritz had left me last night but what I needed was my usual shot of caffeine. My back was as stiff as a board and the wind meant it was taking forever to warm up.
My mood wasn't improved when I got to town; where was that letterbox? Aritz showed me last night but everything looked different in the daylight. At 8 o'clock there was no one about to ask. Eventually I remembered it was through the arch next to the exhibition centre, the only arch in Lagran.

The exhibition centre is a lovely new building but just a little strange. It was built to celebrate the GR38 - known as the fish and wine route and the other route running through Lagran - but at a cost more than 500,000 euros it's hard to see how it will ever make sense. At the moment there isn't money to pay people to actually run it and it's rarely open.

Day 10 GR1 to Lagran

Big walk today, 43 kilometres with around 2,000 metres of ascent and descent. It was also another gloomy one with showers on a cold wind. By the time I walked into Lagran at just before 7, I had been walking for just over 10 hours.

After a taxi out of Miranda de Ebro I rejoined the GR1, at Berantevilla, a small village deposited in a wide open valley. The wind was hurtling up the valley and on a Sunday morning Berantevilla was so quiet it could have been deserted.