Pamplona and Camino Conversations

Pamplona, a city of energy and passion fitting to the worlds most famous Running of the Bulls or Encierro. Arising with the other pilgrims in Larrasoana, after the lights flickered on at 6:15, I ate a breakfast of PB2 (to which Pepe, a fellow pilgrim, felt compelled to investigate due to it's resemblance to poop) and baguette. In the early morning light, climbing our first hill of the day, it foretold a day of many ups and downs. Trekking poles have been the savior of knees on El Camino. Many a pilgrim can be seen sporting knee braces and bandages, and Kelsey proclaims the poles are the single most essential item on her Camino. 

It was to be a short day, only 10 miles, passing by streams, parks and finally the suburbs of the city. Entering the city by way of 12th century bridge, and through the portal of the ancient city walls, we navigated our way to the mighty Catedral de Santa Maria that landmarks itself from a distance away. We had our hearts set on staying in the Albergue Jesus y Maria, not wanting to pass up sleeping in the converted enclaves of a cloister. Arriving early in the pilgrims day, a little after noon, we were first in line for showers and a major albergue bonus: washers and dryers. Donning our rain pants and jackets, we washed every other article of clothing, as the funk of El Camino had already descended upon us. 

Pamplona!

The bustle of the city streets called to us. We had heard the extols of the deliciousness of pintxos, Basque tapas, and went in search of them. And they did not disappoint. Cafes with windows and counters full of little plates and morsels of pintxos awaited us along the cobblestones streets. We found ourselves walking the route of the bulls, strolling along the Calle de los Mercaderes and Calle de la Estafeta. After walking through the Plaza de Castillo and Plaza del Toros, exploring the bustling old town, and enjoying our first round of pintxos for the evening, we headed back to the albergue to rest. 

Setting out again for pintxos round two a few hours later, we heard a familiar boisterous laughter emanating from the albergue stoop. Hola! It was Julia! Full of stories of wrong turns, kind strangers, chocolate biscuits, and Camino love she had us laughing immediately. We three took off to a small, gourmet market (Americans must love this place!) right by our albergue. Loading up on dates, walnuts, hazelnuts and nectarines for the next few days, we set out for pintxos.

Nuts! And my favorite, dates. There is just something about walking and trail mix...

By total luck, we discovered the cafe recommended to us by Dave the evening before. Mushroom risotto and tortilla were the only two vegetarian options available at the counter, but, oh! how delicious! Following dinner, I allowed myself the first indulgence of my Camino so far in a small cup of Ben and Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream.

Pintxos bar. Whatever looks good is on your menu. 

In our little 4 bunk enclave, Kelsey and I met a truly inspirational French couple. Through much laughter and loud dramatically enunciated French, we learned that they were in their seventies, and had been walking since May, presumably from their home in France. Still more, the following morning (unfortunately I had been driven from bed an hour earlier than expected due to our French neighbor's unbelievable, earplug-proof snoring) they were doing a series of calisthenics as they were packing. We were to cross their path many times during the day, as their speed closely matched ours for hours. 

Rainbow! Just outside Pamplona. Already the scenery and climate are changing. 

The first malady of our Camino has come upon us. Kelsey's knees are beginning to feel the strain, and are tender as we walk. The old adage "it's all downhill" implying ease, does not apply to long distance walking. With the added weight of a pack, the pounding on the joints and tendons, going down hill is the worst damage inflicted upon the walker. Moving slowly, we start the steady ascent from Pamplona towards Alto de Perdon. Cresting the hill, we fall in line with a series of copper statues forever walking towards Santiago. 

Whirling windmills turn along the ridged hills all around us, as a gaggle of school children on a field trip run amongst the resting pilgrims. An unbelievable vista presents itself at our feet. 

Atop Alto de Perdon.

Following is the dreaded steep descent down the other side and onwards toward our destination Puenta de la Reina. Kelsey slows for the hill, and I move on with John, an Australian literally glowing with happiness. We remark on the upfront friendliness of the pilgrims, the universal extroversion. He came to El Camino for a simple reason: he knew it would make him happy. He felt that he would be his best self on the walk, and that he would find the best variation of the people around him. In his estimation, the Camino has exceeded his expectations in every way. It got me thinking of my own reasons for walking El Camino, this pilgrimage, this challenge. Am I walking to figure out my life? Am I walking to be closer to God? Am I walking to walk? I have found that I have followed Edward's - from St. Jean - advice. I have let go of expectations, stopped searching for a flashing moment of insight into what I am meant to do. Instead, I am simply trying to be so very present. I like John's reason for walking. I am still figuring out mine. 

A ways down the trail, I stopped at a wooden bench, a vista of the hill we had just descended already receding into the distance. A gaggle of pilgrims walked behind me, and as I said "buen Camino" over my shoulder, I saw a large, hulking figure break off and walk towards me. It is Leon! He plopped down beside me on the park bench, immediately insisting I take a bud of his headphones and listen. It is Doris Day singing "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps." "America!" Leon exclaims. Every time I see a familiar face, and really, everyone is beginning to look familiar, it is such a joy. Leon has decided to give the Camino to God, he will no longer rush his walk to Santiago in 25 days, but instead move at the pace that is right. "Nothing is as important as the Camino," he said. 

Slowly, we enter the town of Puenta de la Reina, and Kelsey declares we are staying at the first albergue we come across, which turns out to be a 5 star hotel with an albergue in the basement. It was complete with a sauna, magnetic keys to our six person room and decorative art on the walks. Post shower we located the only pharmacy in the small town to score some ointment for Kelsey's joints. Walking out of town, we saw our Camino friends Pepe, Jorge and Gabriella, as well as the Brontes lounging by the municipal albergue. They countered our sauna and patio with their garden and vending machine.  After a buffet meal of salad and pasta at our albergue we returned to our room, ready to sleep. 

St. James and I in Puenta de la Reina. 

It is then that I met Juan Alberto, one of our roommates, and had what can only be described as a "crash-into-each-other" conversation. Simple and full of meaning. In Spanish we spoke of the spirituality of the Camino, of the openness of mankind and of the search for meaning and companionship. He waxed poetic on the rarity of connection between two people, independent of jobs, family, money, pressure. He said that in me he recognized good karma. He could tell that I was open and caring, and that my soul is beautiful. Craziness. I think this untempered kind of open judgement on a person happens quite frequently along the Camino. 

Despite our desire to get an early start, Kelsey and I were awakened by our roommates at 7. Ay! We quickly (still slower than everyone other than Juan Alberto) got ready, walking down the road with nectarine and bread in hand. Despite an initial stiffness, Kelsey's legs felt better. For the first few hours of the day, I felt for the first time, not totally high off the experience of the Camino. I wanted to walk alone for awhile, which Kelsey understood, but it felt I was always surrounded by pilgrims. I didn't feel totally tranquil, my pack just didn't feel like it was sitting right, and I was not relaxed in the rhythmic meditation of walking. Unfortunately, you cannot float down the Camino in total bliss all the time. A tortilla and massive cafe con leche set my mood right, and Kelsey and I walked the remaining 3 hours to Estella together.

Not quite a life changing mid-morning meal, but pretty close. 

The climate has already started its dramatic transformation from mountains and forests, to farmland and gently rolling hills. The sun started to bake the brown Earth and us with it. It will be quite a few days of hot weather and little precipitation. With every small step over the past 70 miles, we are able to see minute changes in our surroundings. 

Entering Estella, I did the unthinkable, and actually went for a run. I just needed to feel light on my feet, and the run felt so easy and rejuvenating. I received quite a few comments from other pilgrims, all essentially saying I was crazy.

Tonight Kelsey and I opted for the other pilgrim dinner, the make-your-own. We limped our way to the towns supermarket and bought 8 Euros worth of salad mix-ins and snacks for tomorrow, since it is Sunday and we aren't sure what to expect. Aided by the albergue's wonderfully large and well equipped kitchen we prepared our huge salads, covered in olive oil and sprinkled with nuts. It seems we will need to do dinner in this style every few days, just to get a mass influx of greens.  

Get in my belly.

Now it is to bed and onwards on the Camino tomorrow. Buen Camino!