Only 683km left to Santiago.
A Dutch woman at the hostel in Pamplona told me that after the fourth day it stops hurting. This was a lie. It is getting better, though. Last night I had to use my hands to lift my foot onto my bed. Tonight my leg can lift itself, if I swear under my breath enough.
One of my favourite thigns about the Camino is how the trail is marked. There are a few 'official' signs with a stylized scallop shell and a stick figure of a pilgrim, but for the most part the way is marked much mroe haphazardly. Yellow arrows, spraypainted or drawn clearly without a stencil, but just a can of paint and a paintbrush are everywhere. They´re painted on rocks and trees and hydro poles and sidewalks and storefronts. Not often enough that you can always see one, like blazes, but enough that just when you think you´ve taken a wrong turn, one pops up to reassure you. They´re helpful in the country, but walking through cities like Pamplona and Puente de la Reina, they feel like a secret code. In the cities they are inconspicuous and look just like any other graffiti, barely noticable, but meaning the world to the pilgrim at a busy intersection. They feel like a wink from across the room.