It’s steep – 8km straight up, relentlessly up. My pack felt a lot heavier than ever it did on our training walks at home.
And then, I passed a group of cyclists pushing their bikes up the hill. This is no race, but I’ll admit that was rather a sweet moment, one accompanied by the tinkling of what I thought were cow bells. Except they weren’t. They belonged to a small herd of horses grazing on the side of the road.
The path is well-marked, and if it wasn’t we still wouldn’t have got lost, we were never far from other pilgrims.
Tomorrow will be more challenging, up and over the pass to Roncevalles and Spain. It’ll take us five plus hours.