0600h on the dot classical music blared through the albergue, lights flickered on, signalling wake up time.
Dawn wasn’t until 0750h so I milled around the kitchen area chatting to my fellow peregrinos before setting off around 0730h.
As usual with leaving cities, it’s difficult to find the way; despite taking an unintentional variant we got back on track.
It was a steep climb up the mountain, the clouds threatened rain but it remained dry. Eventually the path splits into two at small church overlooking Irún. John and Eugene had earlier said they’d be taking the low road
Here I met Lyn from the Netherlands and we tackled the higher and more difficult path. The ascent was devilish, but it was worth it for the views. Once on top the route follows the ridge of the mountain, past old dilapidated watch towers.
A light drizzle of rain caught us at the start of the descent, but it didn’t last long enough to pull out the ponchos. Feeling peckish we stopped for a snack where a pilgrim from breakfast joined us.
Di from England. The three of us began the long descent to Pasaia, a small natural harbour that had cute Basque style building lining the water edges. The Sun had chased away the rain at this point. It had gone 1300h and our stomachs were rumbling.
I had my first tortilla y patata of the Camino and a refreshing beer. From the terrace we had views of the harbour and the little green ferry shuttling foot passengers from one side to the other, one we would have to catch to continue the journey.
For a €1.85 we made the crossing where Lyn’s walking day ended. Di and I continued on, heading towards the coast then up a very steep flight of steps to reach the top of a hill that guards the harbour – almost like a mini fjord.
From there it was a woodland trail keeping the heat from the Sun off us as we reached San Sebastián. Di’s accommodation was at the first of the three beaches that make up the city; mine was at the third, another 3km or so.
San Sebastián is an affluent city and currently hosting an international film festival – that the Camino grapevine informs me Johnny Depp is attending.
I passed red carpets and people dolled up in their best designer threads. I seemed to have gained the power of Moses, as they all parted ways like the Red Sea – either that or it’s my smelly pilgrim look.
Eventually I reached the hostel that had a washing machine and dryer, I took full advantage of them. It had been a really enjoyable day and machine washed clothes was the icing on the cake – although, I now may have lost my Moses powers.
At 0800h I was back on the Camino which followed the coastline. Surfers were catching the morning waves with onlookers from the cliffs above. The route was quiet except for the runners and cyclists doing their morning exercises.
The views out to sea in the early morning light was magical. It made up for the undulating terrain synonymous of the Northern Way. About 3km in I grabbed a banana and an orange juice from a small market overlooking a beach.
Breakfast sorted it wasn’t long before the route descended into St. Jean de Luz. A seaside town with a lovely vibe. The locals strolled along the promenade with their dogs, while paddle boarders went around the bay.
From here the route splits for a coastal path and an interior way, following advice from the Jean-Luc, the albergue owner last night, the coastal route is closed.
The way passes through narrow streets between the typical Basque style houses into rural surrounds.
Just after midday I reached Urrugne. This village would be the last chance for food until Hendaye and there are two hills to climb before then.
Choices were limited to one restaurant and it was a bit posh for pilgrims. Netherless they were still accepting. Only wanting a light lunch I went for an avocado and salmon salad. But that seemed a bit boring for the establishment – i was wrong, it had caviar and all sorts of nonsense in the dressing. Very nice though and sated my hunger.
The temperature had risen to an uncomfortable level now and the two hills were slow going. I kept leaping frogging two pilgrims from Spain whom shared the albergue last night, on the way into Hendaye.
The last French town on the route is only separated from Irún by a river. The bridge named ‘Puente de Santiago’, the start point in Irún, marked the crossing into Spain.
Halfway a yellow arrow is painted on a lamppost. The route is finally clear, I now felt at home. About 1.5km more, passing through the centre of the city I reached the only albergue, sharing a 10 bunk dorm, with 4 from Guéthary.
Once chores were done I went to a local bar for the pilgrims meal with two fellow peregrinos John and Eugene. It was a nice warm evening, however the weather is meant to change tomorrow – might need my poncho.
The journey to Bayonne was painless, the trains were on time and the flight on schedule. I had booked an albergue in Bayonne, and with directions from the owner, it was a €3.90 bus ride – a lot cheaper than a taxi.
It was 2100h by the time I was all booked in and straight off the bat I had some Camino magic. The owner was very friendly and accommodating, cooking up an omelette since it was so late. She also sold the credentials! Saves me having to sort it in the morning.
Out the door by 0800h having had breakfast at the albergue, I followed google maps to the cathedral, only to find it closed for renovations – good job I got the credential last night!
Bayonne Cathedral
Everything was going to plan until that point. Could I find a way maker? In France they are red and white stripes, similar to the Polish flag, but none could be seen.
Having spent twenty minutes trying to find one, I had to resort to Google maps. This meant the urban sprawl of Bayonne and Biarritz, past the airport and down into Bidart.
It was here I found the first Polish flag painted on a lamppost, that I had to high five! An immediate relief and comfort ensued knowing I’m back on the Camino.
The route dipped down to a bay just outside Bidart, the midday sun had arrived. The sea was full of surfers riding the waves, a great back drop for the bar where I had to have a beer.
A quick ascent up some devilish steps brought me out into the village, where I had dinner at the albergue. Quite an expensive albergue with €40 per person for the night! Being a Camino veteran I planned ahead and booked an albergue for €20.
Between Bayonne and Irún there are very few Albergues according to Gronze.com. After fuelling up, the way markers vanished, resulting in google maps again.
By 1500h the first day of walking came to an end, 7km shorter than it should have been. Google had directed the quickest route giving it a short 18.72km day.
After showering and clothes washing there were 2 hours to kill before the owner would be ready to book me in – time for a swift half! A 10 minute walk into the village led me to a bar overlooking the sea. A great ending for the first day.
After speaking with the Albergue owner, he gave great advice around the route and where to stay over the next two days. Pointed out where to rejoin the Camino, but most of all, gave me an app with all the routes. I’ve relied on CaminoNinja, one I’ve used on my previous adventures. Only draw back to it, is it only covers the main routes in Spain and Portugal, not those in France.
The app is Gronzemaps. The other source I rely on has made their own GPS version! After paying up I grabbed a pizza from a local restaurant calling it an end to the day.
A common experience pilgrims talk about is ‘Camino Magic’. This is where something unexpectedly good happens to you. This could be a cold drinks seller appearing at a point you really need to quench your thirst, or the Albergue you have chosen provides fresh towels.
Camino Magic isn’t restricted to the pilgrimage, it can manifest elsewhere if you look out for it, and it has been bestowed upon me recently. I am soon to be changing jobs, and working out my leave that is owed and my ‘time of in lieu’, I am able to take an extended period off.
This opens the option for a longer Camino! Seizing this rare opportunity, I’ve changed my plan of walking the Primitivo, and instead walk the Camino del Norte. I will still be starting mid September, however I’ll have until the end of October to complete it. Being late in the year, hopefully it will be less crowded alleviating the bed rush, allowing me to enjoy the true freedom of the pilgrimage.
This also means that the weather is going to be more changeable and I’ll likely have to pack some warmer gear, adding weight to my pack! I’ll definitely being putting my poncho to good use.
The Norte is slightly longer than the Camino Frances at 825 km or 512 miles, starting in Irun on the boarder of Spain and France. However the main difference is, its a coastal route with renowned views of the Northern Spanish Coastline as it follows the ‘Bay of Biscay’.
In its history, the Norte was more popular than the Frances, with pilgrims opting for the safety that the Kingdom of Asturias provided against the Moors, who occupied Southern Spain. There are many historic and culturally rich cities and towns on this pilgrimage; San Sabastian, Bilbao, Santander and Gijon to name a few.
Unlike my previous pilgrimages, I’m haven’t read up on this one nor watched any YouTube videos. I want to go into this one blind, I don’t know the stage ends nor particular points of interest. I want it to be an adventure of discovery and see where it takes me. I’m aiming for more freedom and not be influenced by those who have gone before me.
It was great on my first Camino, as I traversed Spain to recognise places from the books I had read and the programs I had watched. For this one I want to add an extra layer of wander to my journey; also it is meant to be more strenuous, thus I don’t want know what I have let myself in for!
Thankfully I’ve broken in my new trainers while on my Keswick adventure in June; fingers crossed, blisters will be at a minimum and no recurrence of the pain I experienced in my achilles in the early days of the Camino Frances.
I’m looking forward to the peregrinos I’ll meet, the Spanish food, the coastal scenery and the challenge! The only thing left for me to do is sort out the flights.
I had three days off work and eager to get another stamp from a Cathedral for my book, I took the opportunity to visit the Isle of Man, a place I’ve never been.
A couple of weeks ago the catamaran and hotel were booked for Douglas, the Capitol of the island. However, turns out the cathedral is on the other side of the island in Peel. DOH!
At 1030 we followed the procession of foot passengers aboard while loads of motor cyclists filled the vehicle deck. I thought the TT was over months ago? Turns out there is another race called the ‘Manx Grand Prix’. And this week is the practice trials before it begins at the weekend.
Shortly after 1115 the boat begin its voyage to the little island in the Irish Sea, and once out in the open water, this thing shifted. Standing at the stern, it was impressive seeing the water jets streaming out; effectively it’s a giant jet ski.
Three hours later we were off the boat and queuing for the bus to Peel. The idea being, get to the cathedral, get the stamp have a look around and return to Douglas. This way the next day can be spent seeing the sights.
Passing the small villages and the countryside reminded me much of the Lake District and Cumbria. We arrived at the cathedral just before evensong.
A very small congregation had assembled and feeling they needed a boost in numbers, I took a hymn book and joined in. After the 30 min sing song, we were invited for a cup of tea with the Dean; hadn’t foreseen I’ll be having tea the upper echelons of the Isle of Man clergy!
The cathedral had only recently just opened after spending a year under renovation. All the pews had been removed in favour of chairs that can be stored away, so the building can hold concerts, Pilates and exhibitions. A financial decision to keep the building open.
After obtaining my stamp, it was the bus ride back to Douglas, to book into the hotel and find somewhere to eat. Most of places were closed, however the ‘1886 bar and grill’ was open, where the food arrived by a robot!
Hunger sated, a walk along the promenade was in order. Very little activity in the town, not what I expected. The place had a feeling it was 30 years behind, when everything used to be closed on Sundays.
After a couple of pints in an Irish pub, enjoying a local IPA, it was time for bed.
The rain had settled in for the day, apparently it’s the tail end of a hurricane from the Caribbean that had moved across the Atlantic. I hadn’t brought a rain coat, thinking my umbrella would suffice. A quick call into Mountain Warehouse and I picked up a coat in the sale.
With the weather not playing, a trip to Port Erin was on the cards. It is by steam train, the line operating from old network; it connects the villages between Douglas and Port Erin. I shared a cabin with a local who lives in Santon; A small hamlet with little amenities.
She had come into Douglas to do a food shop, and was on her way back home. There is something magical with the steam train still being the public mode of transport and not just a tourist attraction; it’s an island locked in time.
With only an hour before the next train, there was time for a walk to the harbour and a pint in a pub on the waterfront. The weather took a turn for the worse on the return trip to Douglas.
When the train rolled in, it was very wet and dashing to the nearest pub was our only refuge from the drizzle. Trying to get an authentic Manx Kipper bap, we headed to a chippy along the promenade, recommended by a Google search.
The wind had picked up and the drizzle was driving in horizontally. The sea was grey and clouds angry. Just hoped it would subside in morning for the ferry back to Liverpool; it would be a turn of events if it got cancelled!
When I’m cleaning windows
We huddled in the small chippy, only to find, despite Google promising, they didn’t do the infamous kipper bap. It seems this Manx delicacy is more popular on the west coast.
The skies brightened up allowing a window to walk back to the town centre for pint in a warm cozy pub.
An early start in the morning as the ferry left 0730h. The skies were clear and no hint of wind, however the horizon it looked brooding.
But it remained smooth sailing all the way into Liverpool, concluding my Isle of Man adventure.
After a two year hiatus my friend Hannah and I picked up the Jurassic Way after our Welford to Wilbarston stage, October 2022. There was a break in the wet weather that has been synonymous of the UK this year, and it coincided with our rest days. As it’s been awhile, mega busy at work the day before, making it a late finish, we opted on a shorter stage.
This also meant we could cover it in the afternoon allowing the morning to rest. Just after 1200h we were at Wilbarston, ready to begin the 16km walk to Gretton. Light cloud cover filled the sky and a gentle breeze made for good walking conditions.
The route was pretty much downhill for the first 6km and remained flat until the last kilometre into Gretton. The views of the rolling countryside were a treat and once Wilbarston was behind, we were totally emersed in the English Countryside. Not a soul to be seen, apart from an elderly gentleman, map in hand walking the Jurassic way southbound. Hannah joked that will be me one day! Couldn’t disagree.
It was good to see the Shell signs marking the route again, as we passed through small wooded paths, wildflowers and fields of wheat. Soon East Carlton came into view, with the church perch on top of the hill and a field of reindeer grazing in front; an unexpected surprise.
East Carlton Reindeer
It has been awhile since I had a good catch up with my friend, and we nattered away eating up the kilometres. Cottingham came and went, and soon our first little ascent of the day stood before us. At the top, nestled this small hill is the village of Bringhurst.
Climbing through the fields of wheat, following the path the farmer had dutifully maintained to keep the route clear for us ramblers, we reached the quaint church to this little hamlet. Spying a bench just outside the entrance, it was a perfect place to have lunch and take in the peacefulness of our surrounds.
The smell of Lavender drift through the air, while we munched on our packed lunches. A few drops of rain, prompted us to get moving, but that was all it was. No need to get out our waterproofs nor open a brolly.
The route led us down the other side of Bringhurst, through Great Easton, over fields of grazing sheep and cows. On the horizon, the tower to Rockingham Castle came into view, watching us as we approached this the little village on the edge of Corby. Not a sign of the industrial town could be seen.
Rockingham Castle
Hannah commented on how pleasant and well maintained the route was, and how easy this stage had been. However this wasn’t to last, and I blame her for what shortly lay before us. The path dipped under the railway line and into a jungle of nettles, brambles and all kinds snagging shrubbery. At times it was hard to see where the route went, even for my lofty height.
There was nothing for it, we just had to power through this gauntlet of needles, stinging our legs raw. But what is an adventure without adversity? We came out the other side laughing with smiles on our faces; but for Hannah this was only brief, as we now had to ascend the biggest hill for the day into Gretton.
Needle Gauntlet
Once conquered it was a flat walk through barley fields into Gretton. Watching the crop sway in the gentle breeze was a pleasure to be seen and a peaceful end to a lovely day on the Jurassic Way. After a quick pint in the Hatton Arms, we made our way back home.
Technically we only have two more stages until Stamford, the end point of the journey, hopefully we can get this done by the end of the year!
At the beginning of the year I thought I’d be missing out on my annual trip to the lakes because of a clash of leave, however a there was a cancellation, freeing up the rota for me to go. Usually I head to Keswick for the beer festival signalling the start of my adventures around the Lake District, however when the accommodation was reserved, we got the dates mixed up and booked the week before the festival. Doh!
So for the first time since 2013 (excluding the COVID years) I’ll miss the beer tent and the multiple renditions of ‘Mr Brightside’ by the numerous bands playing over the weekend.
We arrived Friday evening and had a couple of pints at the Pheasant Inn then chilled out in the lodge.
We kicked off the Saturday doing the ‘Park Run’. This is a national event, held every Saturday throughout the UK, where you run a 5k route, with the aim to keep fit and improve your personal best.
The Keswick route follows the disused railway track between the town and the village of Threlkeld. Once completed we went for breakfast at a local cafe.
After returning to our accommodation for showers, we did a food shop then met some friends for a drink before our evening meal in ‘The Round’.
Over the last few visits to The Lakes, Joe has been wanting to bag ‘Blencathra’. Sunday morning the weather was on our side, so we seized the day and set out on the 868m Wainwright.
Finding the last spot in the car park, we ascended the fairly steep path and the even steeper zigzag section to ‘Knowe Crags’, the start of the easy bit to the summit. The sun was out, however there was a chilly breeze, making me wish I had brought my gloves along!
The path follows the edge of the crags to the summit, giving fantastic views over Keswick and Thirlmere in the distance. Great for the photo album!
Team Summit PhotoSummit Selfie
We continued on to ‘Atkinson Pike’ which sits at the end of ‘Mungrisdale Common’ meaning we bagged two Wainwrights, before returning the way we came, opting to forego ‘Sharp Edge’.
Once back in Threlkeld, we had a post walk pint and returned to the lodge for the evening.
Monday brought clouds and a constant threat of rain. A place I have been meaning to get to for a while is the ‘Langdale Quarry’ or better known as the ‘Cathedral Cave’. This is an old slate quarry just outside Little Langdale, that has a cavern supported by an impressive stone pillar.
We got the bus to Ambleside then a connection to Elterwater. After lunch at a little bistro, we set off towards Little Langdale.
We ascended up a rock strewn road/footpath to reach the neighbouring valley and descended into the little hamlet. From there you follow a country lane, over a ford into a wooded hillock where the quarry resides. A short walk westward you reach the disclaimer sign on a gate post, warning of falling rocks etc.
Following the path upwards you reach an information sign outside a tunnel the leads to the cavern.
Using the light from my phone, ducking, I stepped into the tunnel and proceeded through the dank gloom heading to the light at the end, to sound of splashing echoing with each of my footsteps.
At the other side I was greeted with the spectacular view of the cavern. The pictures on the internet do not do it justice nor the scale of the chamber.
Cathedral Cavern
We headed back to Elterwater, crossing an old drovers footbridge over a stream from ‘Little Langdale Tarn’; known as Slaters Bridge.
Slaters Bridge
We returned the way we came, and after having the customary post walk pint at the Britannia Inn, at Elterwater, we caught the buses back to Keswick where we had dinner at the recently open ‘Peri Fresco’ restaurant.
According to the weather forecast, Tuesday was meant to be a wash out. So we had planned to do indoor activities. Elina took us bouldering, an activity I’ve never done.
With all the grace of stick insect I tackled the red and orange routes. Some had overhangs that I reckon only Spider-Man could climb; thankfully the floor was cushioned!
With tired arms and muscles I didn’t know existed, we went for brunch. The rain still hadn’t abated, and keeping to the indoors we went around the pencil museum.
It detailed the mining of graphite and the uses through the years. At one point it was worth more than gold, and smugglers would deal in this commodity at ‘The George’ in Keswick.
Those that operated in those circles ended up have black hands from handling the stolen graphite, hence the origin of ‘The Black Market’. It also detailed the manufacture of the pencils that had maps and compasses secreted inside, for captured WW2 pilots.
We pottered around Keswick, had cocktails at the ‘Derwent Walker, then finished off the day with a meal at the ‘Pheasant’.
Cocktails
The weather hadn’t improved much on Wednesday. Continuing with the indoor theme, we headed to ‘Rydal Mount’ the home of William Wordsworth. A bus ride from Keswick puts you at the bottom of the hill which the grade one listed building sits on.
This beautiful cottage and its extensive garden, looks over Rydal Water. We went around the cottage that is still owned and resided by the descendants of Wordsworth. Painted portraits and manuscripts are displayed through out, giving the history of the famous poet.
It was a pleasure to walk around the gardens, that was the inspiration of many of his works. You could understand with the variety of colours, plants and the views of fells above.
We hopped back on the bus to Grasmere for lunch and for the famous gingerbread the area is renowned for. We returned to Keswick and after a couple of drinks at the ‘Dog and Gun’, before a chilled evening back at the lodge.
Rydal Mount
Thursday I wanted to get some wainwrights bagged, specifically around Buttermere however there were showers throughout the morning that I didn’t fancy getting caught in, on the fells.
The one activity we hadn’t partook yet was crazy golf. Off to Hope park we went for the 18 hole course; this year Joe was the victor.
After lunch we hit a few watering holes we hadn’t been to before. A nice craft beer establishment and a wine bar before returning to the lodge for food and a night of board games. A relaxed night ready for the drive home in the morning.
Thus this draws the end to my Keswick adventure for 2024.
After a travel intensive end to 2023, I had a quiet Christmas and New Year with friends and family. The dawn of 2024 marks a very busy first half of the year for me at work, and as I had sneaked in a few trips late last year, my annual leave allowance has been depleted; which doesn’t reset until April. An early UK pilgrimage to 2024 is doubtful. Also it is unlikely my usual Lake District Adventure will happen this year, as we are at minimum staffing levels in June on account of leave, and me being late to get my request in!
2024 also brings with it my 40th birthday, and I can’t let this milestone pass without an adventure! So I’ve managed to find three weeks in September/October where none of my colleagues have time off, when I plan to walk the Camino Primitivo.
The Primitivo starts in Oviedo and follows a 320km (199mile) route to Santiago de Compostela. It is considered the most difficult of the 7 main pilgrimages but boasts the most scenic. I first learnt about it from Javier, a peregrino I met on the Camino Frances back in 2021. While killing the ‘Moscas’ (flies) in the albergue garden at Terradillos de los Templarios. He was telling me about all the Camino’s he had walked and the Primitivo being his favourite.
Dirk Swatting those Moscas
The route is very hilly which was confirmed by an Italian pilgrim who I shared a dorm with at the albergue in O Pedrouzo last year, on my Mini Camino Frances. Not one to be deterred by a few hills, what better challenge to mark my 40th with?!
This route is considered to be the first and original pilgrimage to Santiago. It was undertaken by King Alfonso II of Asturias, who began at Oveido, the original capitol of the region. When the sarcophagus of St. James was discovered, Alfonso travelled to the where Santiago de Compostela now sits, to verify the remains. When he arrived, he confirmed that it was the Apostles body thus making him the first pilgrim of the way of St. James. There even is a statue dedicated to the Asturian king, near the ‘Mercado de Abastos’, a market area renowned for it’s fresh food and flowers, not far from the Cathedral.
King Alfonso II
To follow in his footsteps I am going to need get myself a new pair of trainers. My trusty Salomons that have seen me through 3 Caminos and various adventures around the UK, are showing their toil and hard life! Sadly I’m going to have to put them into retirement; by far the best trainers I have owned.
Like all long distance walkers, I have an obsession over footwear as they can make or break the journey. Many of my fellow peregrinos have suffered due to their choice of walking attire. While on my long distance hikes, I can’t help but observe what people are wearing on their feet. One brand I see a lot, especially on the continent is ‘Hoka’, and they do look comfy! After some researching, I have settled on the Challenger 7 from that brand.
Farewell my Trusty Friends
I’ve put them on order and should be arriving next week! I am going to break them in on some day walks over the next few months, which will give me the opportunity to get my blogging fix until September!
As the cold wet and windy weather is heralding winter’s approach in Britain, I took a weeks leave to visit the warmer climes of Paphos, Cyprus with my dad and brother.
This was the first time I have ventured to this Mediterranean island, which will afford me a new pin on my world map.
A 7am flight meant it was an early start to get to the airport, but check-in and security was painless; before long we were at the bar having a customary airport beer! With a four hour flight ahead of me, I prepared by downloading the Netflix series ‘All the light we cannot see’.
Two and half episodes later the descent into Paphos began and before I knew it, we were at the hotel. After offloading the luggage into our rooms, we spent the afternoon and evening at the hotel watching the entertainment.
I even took part in a game of bingo winning €25, although I had to do a dance to receive my winnings; good job for the few beers I had earlier giving me a little Dutch courage.
The next day we had an explore of the immediate area, starting at the beach and walking along the promenade to the harbour, guarded by an Ottoman fort.
After having a gander around this old protector, we had racked up a thirst, prompting us to hunt for a cold glass of lemonade. Once our refreshing beverages were drunk, we returned to the hotel for lunch then in the afternoon walked in the opposite direction along main road.
We found the entrance to a 4th century BC necropolis, known as the ‘Tombs of the Kings’. Not wanting exhaust all the local attractions in the first couple of days, it was a plan for tomorrow.
My first time to a necropolis and for €2.50 it didn’t disappoint. The tombs had been cut into the stone with the “newer” tombs in a ‘Greek Dorian’ style, that had well preserved columns. The arid landscape above and the ancient structures below felt like a set of an Indiana Jones film.
Despite the name including royalty, no monarchs were actually laid to rest here. It was for the wealthy and important town officials.
Due to earthquakes and the erosion of time, some of the exposed rock faces looked like windswept desert canyons.
Having finished our tomb raiding, we stopped at a bar opposite the entrance for a drink. Enjoying the shady terrace watching the world go by, one of those hop on, hop off site seeing buses drove past. That was tomorrows activity sorted.
We asked the waitress about them and she had a leaflet left behind by a previous customer. They depart from the harbour hourly, perfect!
Our first stop was Paphos Old Town. The name is very deceptive, as it is very modern, with high street shops, trendy bars and ice cream parlours. I was expecting narrow winding streets lined with rustic buildings.
The oldest building we found was a former church of Ayia Sofia, that was repurposed as a mosque during the Ottoman conquest of the island.
We found a shaded square for a drink before heading back to the bus stop for the 25 min past pick up. We arrived at 24 min to see the bus heading down the road.
Mural in Old Town
The next drop of would be at the archeological museum, which was a 10 minute walk. Enough time to walk there, look around the ancient artefacts and catch the next bus in an hours time.
Humans have been living on Cyprus since the Paleolithic Era, evidenced by stone bowls and flint arrowheads. It was interesting to see the evolution of technology through the ages and the progressive detail of carvings and artwork.
Roman coins
We took the bus back to the harbour after passing by Agioi Anargyroi church, Fabrica Hill with its cave systems and St. Paul’s Pillar. Our site seeing itinerary for the next day.
We headed to the huge church, built in a traditional Greek style giving an appearance of it being a lot older than it actually is. Disappointingly it was closed, only opening for services this time of year.
Next we went to the St. Paul’s Pillar and the ancient Basilica which is now a church for St. Paul. Around 40AD, St. Paul arrived on the island to preach Christianity. The ruling officials, tied him to a pillar and lashed him.
He did not balk and withstood the torture; because of that, the officials were impressed and allowed him to stay and preach.
On the way to Fabrica Hill, we passed a tree with bits of cloth hanging from the branches, and below there is a small shrine. This is known locally as the ‘Sacred Tree’. It is believed that if you leave a piece of cloth on a branch, you will be cured of all your Illnesses.
A short walk from the tree, we began the spelunking. A ramp leading into a cavernous chamber, with smaller ones leading off it. A huge pillar appears like a strut keeping the roof aloft.
A set of steps carved into the rear take you up to other chambers and eventually on top of the hill. A metal walkway that looks more like a water slide, gives views over Paphos.
With my lofty view, I saw a bus pass by below with ‘Coral Bay’ on the front; which sounds like it’s worth a look. Guess where we went the next day.
20min bus ride and the sandy beach of Coral Bay offered a typical tourist location. The town consisted of restaurants and bars all packed side by side. It had a “Little Britain” feel about it. After a quick paddle in the sea and lunch at a bar we hopped back on the bus to return to Paphos.
The next day was our last. We took a walk in the morning to old town, had a drink in a bar before returning to the hotel where we relaxed by the pool. Not wanting to over do it for our journey home in the morning.
The flight back was a gruelling 5 hours and I exhausted the remaining episodes to the Netflix series and almost finished a book I brought along.
Overall it was a great week in the sun, a bit of a shocker to return to the cold weather. Now I need to start thinking of my next adventure!
This week I have been on a training course in the Netherlands through work. While I wasn’t in the classroom, I was exploring the area of Amsterdam.
My course was in Nieuw Vennep, just southwest of the capital; my hotel in between at Hoofddorp.
The plane landed Sunday and wanting to see the ‘Body Worlds’ exhibition before it closed, I dumped my bags at the hotel and jumped on the train into ‘Dam’. The heavens were pouring, luckily I remembered my umbrella!
The exhibition is about the human body; Gunther von Hagens developed a method called ‘plastination’, which involves injecting a resin into dead bodies, preserving the organs for educational purposes for doctors etc, to study them better rather than having them suspended in jars.
It was over 6 floors, with each level dedicated to certain bodily functions, starting with the nervous system. It was a fascinating, although a little macabre. There were some odd displays, like three skinless people playing poker!
Monday kicked off the course and with the very wet weather which continued into Tuesday I stayed around Hoofddorp. I found a very good tapas restaurant, ‘La Cubanita’, that is worth visiting if you are ever in the area.
Wednesday saw a break in the rain. Taking advantage of this, I jumped on the train to ‘Leiden’. What a gem this city is. More picturesque and quieter than Amsterdam. A better vibe and plenty of restaurants to choose from.
I went up to the castle ruins and around the cathedral; although it was closed. If I had never been to Amsterdam before, Leiden would be what I would expect it to look like.
I had dinner at a restaurant on the canal side before sampling the beer at some nearby bars.
Thursday brought Storm Ciaran to the Dutch shores. Schools here closed at midday and everyone hunkered down to weather the gale force winds. It was due to dissipate around 1900h, but the trees outside my hotel were almost horizontal at that time, so I opted to remain there for the night.
Friday it had all calmed down, and after passing my course I was back out exploring. This time I was in ‘Haarlem’.
Passed!
Another quaint and picturesque city, although I prefer Leiden. More historic buildings and aesthetically pleasing streets to explore. Being a Friday night most places were fully booked, however I managed to find an Italian restaurant.
The evening was still young, so I jumped back on the train and headed back to Leiden to sample more of the watering holes, before catching the last train back to Hoofddorp.
Saturday it was a midday flight back to Blighty, however I’m only on British soil for a week before I jet set off to Cyprus for a week’s vacation!
Stu's Camino 