Pamplona and beyond

Well, the day we thought was going to be so much easier...wasn´t. We allowed ourselves to sleep in a bit in Zubiri Wednesday morning, and didn´t actually get on the Camino until almost 9:00 or later. We had anticipated a pretty level, low-key hike. Yeah...wrong.

The temps soared up pretty quick; we passed a sign later in the day that read 36 degrees Celcius, which comes out to about 97 F. (I heard even later that some parts recorded 40 to 44.) It was grueling, there was way more up and down than we expected, and we were just pretty much miserable most of the day. Em started developing blisters on her toes, Niles was losing too much salt, and my feet were deciding to hurt after all. We were wiped out early.

Which leads to some pretty amusing stories, actually. Like the fact that we were walking through a smaller village looking for a cafe, and saw a patio with a few of those awning/tent things set up, and tables with coffe cups and glasses sitting out, with pilgrims scattered around in general. So I walked up to the door, which was open, but I didn´t see anyone, so I stepped in. About that time a young man came walking up the street toward the building, and I asked him, "Donde esta el banyo?" (showing my mad Spanish chops). He looked a little startled, but opened a door inside and showed me a very nice bathroom, which I took advantage of.

When I came back out, a fellow pilgrim was asking him for coffee, which he went upstairs to make. He came back with a cup, and she offered him some money, which he accepted.

About then was when we began to realize that this may not have been a cafe after all. I had brazenly walked into a private home and demanded to use the washroom, while Mary demanded coffee. Stupid pilgrims.

Since we were already idiots, we just sat on their porch for the rest of our lunch break, until we mustered the energy to set out again. Which took a while, ´cause it was really, really hot. Heaven only knows what those poor people thought, or whether they had just had to get used to this kind of crazy behavior from crazy exhausted pilgrims. I just prayed blessings on them the rest of the day. That young man was exceedingly gracious.

The afternoon was no better. We stopped for lemonade later in the afternoon (with the same Camino friends we had shared the private porch with), and finally ended up getting into Pamplona much later than we had anticipated. We got lost, actually, and were being tortured with a walk through what was evidently a resort and water park, with all the folks splashing and drinking lovely, tall, iced, wonderful things--while we remained lost, sweaty, gritty and pathetic. Finally, a man walking past us said, "Alburgue?" I said, "¡Si! por Favor!" and he directed us just over a bridge to an algurgue we hadn´t noticed.

Now, there are albergues and there are albuerges. The municipal ones are run by the state or by the churches, and are usually pretty cheap. But there are also private ones that are more like resorts or hotels, and they can cost a lot more. I was afraid this one was going to break our budget good, because it looked simply lovely. The hostess greeted us at the door and informed us they had four beds left (we immediately took three of them). Then she showed us inside and gave us fruit juice--and more fruit juice. Her husband signed us in and informed us the price for the night was 4 Euros, and 2 Euros for breakfast. (So yeah, this was one of the cheap ones after all.)

These folks were absolute angels of mercy. They carried our packs upstairs for us, told us they would wake us at 6 with music, would serve us breakfast by candlelight, and offered to wash and dry all our clothes for 6 Euros. (We accepted.)

They just reminded me what an amazing and sacred gift hospitality is. We felt so weary, and tired, and sad at the end of that day--and they just welcomed us in and took care of us, at no real profit to themselves. The host told me later that they had walked the Camino twice, and this was their way of saying thanks. I´m not sure when I´ve felt more blessed.

They had, unfortunately, put Emlyn in someone else´s space, so they had to move her to the room usually used by the new hosts when they arrive. It was on the third floor, and had only 2 beds, and she invited me to share "the princess room" (as they called it) with her. (This was Em´s second princess moment of the day, by the way. The first was earlier in the day when she found herself surrounded by a cloud of butterflies--what she calls a "fairlytale princess moment.") Anyway, the room was lovely, but on the third floor. Did I mention it was hot? So not much sleep that night for me.

The day had been so rough the kids were considering staying a day in Pamplona to sightsee, but the next morning we realized it was way to early in the trip to take a day off when we didn´t have any real injuries. We did get to see a bit of Pamplona when we walked to dinner (the chutes are set up for the running of the bulls next week), and we decided to go on.

We expected today to be a killer, but it was much better--at least for me and Emlyn. It was much cooler today, and even though we had to climb another fairly high peak, it went much better than I expected it to. It rained a bit, but not too much--just enough to make me feel spending money on the rain gear wasn´t a total waste. My feet do hurt a bit--the neuromas flare now and then--but it´s managable. Em´s blisters began feeling better, so today was much less painful than yesterday. Niles is still struggling with the heat and exertion; this evening Emlyn and I found a pharmacy, and she was able to ask for salt supplements for him, which are helping a bit. He´s struggling with an upset stomach, and is certainly drinking plenty--so we´re not sure if it´s loss of salts or a mild bug or something he ate. Anyway, he´s trying to work through it, but he´s had a pretty miserable couple of days.

All through the day, we continued to meet and pass and re-meet pilgrims we have been journeying with for the past week. But many of the folks we have met are now leaving the Camino, and I´m discovering the real heartbreak of this place.

Every day, it seems, when we´ve needed it most, blessing has come in the form of a fellow traveler or host who brings us help or bandages or friendship. These blessings (and the fact that they consistently seem to show up just when we need them most) have been an amazing gift, and they bring me great joy. The heartbreak is having to learn that every day, you have to open your hand and let those blessings go. People have left, and I haven´t always had the chance to say good-bye, or fully expressed my gratitude for the fact that they had salt when we needed it, or shared some laughter when I was worn down. The blessing that they have been travels off on another path, and I have to remember to be grateful for the part where our paths crossed here.

So here we are, at the end of one week already. There are some really tough-looking days coming down the road--treks of over 30 kilometers, which the guidebook says will take 8.5 hours to finish. I´m still wondering how we´re going to do that, and still trying to learn to let each day stand for itself. Today I have done what I thought, at the start of it, I couldn´t do. And along the way have been blessings and joys I didn´t look for at the beginning of it. So that, I guess, is exactly where I need to stop, and rest.

Blessings on your rest, and on your journeying.