From Espinal to Larrasonana

More up hill than I could imagine and the trail which winds through delightful forests now sports bits of toilet paper every 50 meters. The Spanish don’t seem to have the same rules for litter. In France there were signs and no litter at all. Here we are back to beautiful fall crocus and toilet paper. Tom wonders how someone on a religious pilgrimage can litter. The villages are spread further apart but there are places to use toilets, ever bar has nice ones.
The food is great, major ham places, but we were given fish tonight at the inn which was delicious. We seem to be the only ones at these small places, the season being mostly over. It was so cold this morning coming off the Pyrenees that there was a hard frost on the grass but the temperature turned hot with the sun and we shed clothing as we walked.
Pat will be glad to know that two young men passed us on bicycles, fully loaded but I can’t imagine how they negotiated the rocky, rough terrain. We came upon them by a river smoking weed so maybe they made it through in a fog.
More walking tomorrow into Pamplona but a South African has given us a tip to use the route by the river instead of the huge hill to enter the city.
(I will add pictures presently.)






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