Day 3 – The Miles We Didn’t Expect

This morning, the landscape changed to rolling hills and deep, green forests. It reminded me of the enchanted woods in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I half expected to come upon a signpost—and perhaps even Mr. Tumnus. Instead, we found a simple gate pointing us in the direction we needed to go.

After climbing the Pyrenees for the past two days, we were tired and looking forward to what we had convinced ourselves would be an easier day. We knew we would walk about 13 miles, but we thought the route would be relatively flat, with only the final three kilometers being difficult.

That is not exactly what happened.

How we failed to notice that today’s route was labeled “hard” remains a mystery. Still, we did fairly well and entered Zubiri tired, satisfied and very ready for a beer—only to discover that we had not read our guide carefully enough.

Our hotel was another four miles away, in the tiny village of Akerreta.

There is something about the psychological effect of misaligned expectations. Those four miles felt harder than any climb. We had already arrived in our minds, and suddenly we had to begin again. They tested our patience, our attitudes and our tenacity.

When we finally arrived at nearly 6 p.m., our host was waiting for us. The hotel itself is a traditional Pyrenean farmhouse built in 1723, with its original stone walls, massive oak beams, kitchen and bread oven still preserved. It was also used as a filming location in The Way, in the scene where Tom meets Sarah at a communal dinner.

In a lovely parallel, we met two wonderful couples of our own—one from Canada and one from Australia—and shared a delicious home-cooked meal together. We had arrived exhausted and depleted, but sitting around that table, strangers quickly became friends, laughter replaced fatigue, and the day’s frustrations began to soften.

By the time we reached Akerreta, we had walked for nine hours—18.15 miles with 2,245 feet of elevation gain. Yet the miles that had felt so unnecessary were the very ones that carried us to that table.

Perhaps that is one of the quiet lessons of the Camino. Just when you believe you have nothing left to give, the road asks a little more of you—and then places exactly what you need on the other side: a warm welcome, a shared meal and the reminder that you are never walking alone.