Today I walked to Zariquiegui, which I have no idea how to pronounce. I’m still in Basque country, and a lot of place names reflect that.
The weather was mostly cloudy to overcast from Larrasoaña to Pamplona, cool, but not so cold that I needed more than a T-shirt. As soon as I left Pamplona, I had to pull out my rain jacket and the rainfly for my backpack, as a sprinkle turned into a drizzle and then into a light rain.
Twice today I lost the trail momentarily and had to get directions from locals. In one case I asked someone, and it turned out I had only gone a few minutes out of my way. In the other case, someone saw that I appeared to be confused, rolled down his car window, whistled, and pointed me the right way before I could go the wrong way.
Even though I’m staying in a relatively small albergue, I once again saw several familiar faces at dinner. I also made a new friend, a guy from Boston, with whom I struck up conversation after he walked in with a Red Sox cap.
