Some of you might have read the book of nearly that name, an excellent follow-up to “The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared”, which tells the story of a young South African girl who just happens to be a mathematical genius, and who somehow gets involved in a nuclear incident involving Sweden, Israel and China.

I rather enjoyed the book, finding it to be a genuine flight of fancy and depicting events that were unlikely to actually ever come close to actually occurring.

That was until I met “Edwin” this morning on the way out of Pamplona.

“Edwin” is an Australian theoretical physicist and a professor at Melbourne University who, in response to the standard “where are you from/what do you do?” question told me he’d recently been working for Vladimir Putin, that he’d stolen Trident submarine technology to improve something called “gradiometers”, and that he’d been busy resisting the rising tide of Chinese influence in Africa in recent times.

All of that was related in a 15-minute stream of non-stop narcissism while toting what he told me was a 17kg pack, which allegedly contained “very important materials” for his next board meeting.

It takes all sorts, I suppose.

Once I’d recovered from the mental impact of all that unexpected information, and after wondering if I’d somehow breached the Official Secrets Act just by listening to “Edwin”, I was increasingly aware of just how beautiful the day was becoming.

The route out of Pamplona ascends slowly up onto a mountain ridge peppered with wind turbines, with miles of golden straw-filled meadows around.

The climb became quite steep, until it peaked at Alto del Perdón, about 800m above sea level. The path led me to a packed open-air Sunday church congregation and a dozen gorgeous wrought-iron figures of medieval Pilgrims.

It suddenly made me think of just how different our experience of the Camino is, compared to those earlier travellers.

They didn’t have GPS, Google Maps, WiFi, or the benefit of the astonishingly clear route markings along the way.

As well as that, they would have had greater difficulty in finding somewhere safe to sleep and they’d be running the risk of roadside marauders and roguish landlords.

Then I thought of whether they all had good shoes – and I felt rather squeamish for a moment in thinking about those that didn’t.

Yikes.

Double yikes.

Today has been a slightly tougher stage, with a full day of sunshine to contend with, but I’ve completed the full 24km to arrive safely in Puente la Reina (The Queen’s Bridge), yet another in a series of lovely towns and villages that line this route.

In doing so, I’ve walked more than a hundred kilometres in four days and seen how a country can change over that distance.

Thankfully, that’s what remains uppermost in my mind, rather than the self-declared fantabulousness of “Edwin”.

Accommodation Report:

Jesus y Maria, Pamplona:

An enormous rack of bunk beds in a converted church right in the centre of Pamplona, ludicrously cheap, but more than a little subject to exterior noise from Saturday night revellers.

Still, no bedbugs and the mosquito bite ointment has worked.

Health Report:

Left Knee continues to tolerate the steep descents that triggered a protest two days ago, so maybe it’s decided to get with the programme.

STILL no blisters!

Trips, Slips and Falls: 0 (0)

Applications of Factor 50: 7 (15)

Filling of Water Bottles: 4 (8)

Acceptance of path-side lemonade stall opportunities: 2

Number of times “Buen Camino” was said: Dropping now – about 50.

No one is yet saying “See you along the way” but I’ll keep pushing it.

Poncho deployments: 0 (2)

Wrong turns taken: 0 (1)