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7:15am: ready to get the train to Paris There is a limit to how far you can go by land without it taking days to get to where you want to go - I think, with this stage of the Camino, I have now reached it. Perhaps, if I were younger, I might be able to go further in any one day, but as it was, I was really glad to have to stopped in Bordeaux and had a very good night's sleep. Today's activity was three train journeys to get me from Bordeaux to Southwell.

It was my last night in a dormitory of twelve, and I did not sleep well, because I was worrying about being up in time to walk the 35 minutes to Bilbao Intermodal to get my bus to Bordeaux. Anyway, my Fitbit tells me that my sleep style is Hedgehog - that is, I am quite nocturnal, but that if I don't get too much sleep it is of a sufficient quality to see me through the day. It's more or less right.

It had rained quite a bit in the night, but I didn't hear it. Though I was in a 12 bed dorm I slept well, and woke about 7.40. I am a bit ambivalent about Spanish cuisine in general, perhaps first of all because I don't really understand what people are eating, and why and when, and then secondly because it is so heavily bread and potato-based, and vegetables are in short supply. However, the bit I do understand and love is desayuno - breakfast. While there are a dizzying array of tostados, i.e.

Outside the Casa Consistorial, Viana, at 07:40 this morning. There is always something bittersweet about coming to the end of another stage of this extended Camino. At one level, I am wanting get home to husband and hearth, to the love and the comforting routines of every day. But at another, every fibre of me is now in the groove: the road goes ever on, as Tolkien said, and if the Camino bug has bitten, then you want to know what is around the next bend or over the next rise .

Sunrise from the terrace at el Palacio de Sansol After yesterday's extended effort, I now have two 'cool down' walks, as I come to the end of this stage. Today I did just 11 kms to Viana, which leaves nine to get to Logroño. After that I will get a bus to Bilbao, and, after a day off, a bus to Bordeaux, and from there, three trains to get me back to Newark Northgate on Tuesday evening. Knowing I was not under time pressure I let myself doze, while the dormitory around me emptied.

With temperatures scheduled to peak today, another early start was called for. I had slept well in my own room and was up, packed and ready for the off by 06:55. The road out of Estella started to climb immediately, the street lights guiding us through some not very interesting  parts of the city. Once we got to the end of the town we were led left, towards the Monastery at Irache. Irache monastery But of greater interest to the gaggle of pilgrims was the Bodega Irache, the winery that has been going for 130 years.

Puente la Reina at 7.10am, reflected in the waters of the Arga river Today has been a classic Camino day; no spectacular heights to scale, a lot of walking on paths (always better than being where cars are), but many small surprises and delights, and practical challenges as well. These mid-September days are very hot in Spain, every afternoon ending comfortably above 30° - far too hot for walking safely. So, if you want to make normal progress, it obliges you to make an early start. I was away by 7am today.

When I booked the place at the hostel in Puente la Reina yesterday, the staff member advised me to start early, "It's going to be over 30° in the afternoon, so it's best to do as much as you can in the morning." I set off at 06:40 in the dark. I reckoned that Pamplona's street lights would keep me safe. And so it proved. Pamplona before dawn Pamplona has a well-regarded university, now on a dazzling new campus, which I walked through. The path took me up to and through Zizur Major, a dormitory village that shows signs of being swallowed up in greater Pamplona in the next generation.

This hardly counted as a walk, to be honest. I gave myself permission to lie in, and so didn't leave the hostel much before eight. I was joined early on by Martin, an ex-prison governor from Milton Keynes, and together we shared a pleasant flat stroll through suburbs which brought us to the hefty and ancient walls of Pamplona. It was a great deal more impressive than I had anticipated. We made our through the until we found an open cafe where we had breakfast. Martin then departed for Puente la Reina, 20 or so kms further on.

Yesterday evening was convivial with other pilgrims, in fact, probably a bit too convivial. I realised it was time to go bed when I led the entire terrace in a rousing rendition of "Oh, Canada!". Anyway, I went straight to sleep for eight and a half hours, and awoke feeling remarkably spry! The old bridge over the Arga in Zubiri at 7am Nothing was open at seven on a Sunday morning, so I packed up and set off at that time. It is still completely dark at that time, so the first fifteen minutes were powered by my phone torch.

It really was cold in Roncesvalles this morning. The lights came on in the dormitory at 6.15, breakfast was at 7am, and we had to be out and away by 8. It had not been a restful night. Twenty or so people jammed into a room with bunk beds. I have to say that my years of going on the top are over, but I managed it last night. I did not sleep well. The abbey at Roncesvalles before sunrise I was most concerned about having nowhere to sleep this evening, but over breakfast I discovered that there was an American couple who had double-booked accommodation in Zubiri.

The day started before dawn with breakfast at 06:30. With my walking companions, Jackie and Simon, we had left SJPdP by 07.20. Normally, I would have considered this a very bad thing, but today was a particular day of challenge! Through the Virgin's Gate early The old town of SJPdP is really very small, and we were soon into the outskirts. There we confronted by what was we dominant theme of today: walking uphill. Sometimes steeply! The first ten minutes gave us a taste of what to expect, several long hard pulls uphill that had us looking down on the town below as the day turned to light.

Today has been a special day on this adventure. After a good night in Ostabat the group of ten or so pilgrims who had stayed together, shared breakfast and left at about eight. My plan had been to go to Mongelos, eleven kms away. But it was a perfect walking day, and my foot seemed fine, and the kilometres went by quickly. I met some sheep - if you look carefully, the black sheep is visible A young rider and her mount Having started early, I was at Mongelos by just after eleven.

Dawn in Saint-Palais The hostel in Saint-Palais had been a Franciscan friary until 2005 when the last friars left. It was taken over by the municipality and comprehensively upgraded (new cloister constructed besides other improvements). Use is now shared between the municipal tourist office, a museum of Basque history and the pilgrims hostel. In the hostel you could choose between being in a dormitory of eight for 12€, or pay 15€ to be in a room with just two. I chose the room and had it to myself. I'm pretty certain that it was an unadapted friar's cell.

After a cordial breakfast with my host, Pascal, I was on the road by 08:30. But before I tell you more about my day, I am going to explain something about French home ownership that Pascal taught me, and which I am still trying comprehend. It began when I asked him about the scaffolding all round his house. He reeled off a huge list of works, and I made some comment about the being expensive but worth doing in the long run. He said, "Oh, it's not me that's paying, it's the proprietor." I said had understood it was his family home.

My hostesses at Les Étoiles were kindness itself, but nevertheless I did not sleep well.   Perhaps it was the humidity. I was woken in the night, briefly by the heavy rain. In the morning, it was ten degrees cooler and very overcast with low cloud. Not as beautiful, but much nicer for walking! The quince tree at Les Étoiles, it's branches propped up by bamboos. I set off at 08:45, and had to walk two kms back the way I had come to join the route. But thereafter I had a really wonderful morning's walk through woods and forests and across fields.

My Airbnb in Orthez was above an Italian takeaway, so, for supper, I had an aubergine parmigiana followed by tiramisu (both home-made) for 11€. It also boasted a washing machine, so a quick wash kept me up to date, and a rack by the open kitchen window meant everything dried overnight. I turned in early, and slept solidly for eight hours 45 minutes. Most unlike me, but I woke feeling well-rested. On my balcony this morning. I had a big hot coffee (excellent and unfussy Philips Senseo machine - one I could actually imagine using!) on my balcony, then went out shopping.

Yesterday was a special day for Laurence (his 26th sobriety anniversary, since you asked), marked by cards and visits, and a great sense of pride. Me pushing off on Camino was the only downside - though, to be fair to him, he always that he's delighted I'm doing this adventure, and he really misses me. Outside 47 Easthorpe I'm taking less with me this time. It's a conscious choice, given the slightly dodgy state of my feet. But the consequence is that I have been more particular about my patching than ever, and I'm not a casual packer.