Camino de Santiago: Pamplona and Beyond

 

Last night after 8 evenings in an “albergue” (dorms) we splurged, went one step up, and stayed at a “pension”. A “pension” gave Gabriel and I our own room though with a shared bathroom. We didn’t care about that. Don’t get me wrong, the albergue life is pretty cool. You meet some cool folk who are all walking to the same place you are and have travelled from the four corners of the planet to get there. Having said that though, the ability to shut our own door, sleep in our own beds, and have our own space, well, some things are just priceless.

I have quickly realized that the pace and sheer distance we have to cover means daily updates aren’t going to happen, (See, you’ll just have to read the book when it comes out). But here are a couple highlights from Week 1

Pamplona

We entered Pamplona on Easter Sunday. There was a huge party going on in the streets and a band struck up a really upbeat song just as we entered the city gates which made it hard to not feel it was all for us. We checked into the Jesus y Maria albergue which established in a former church. Gabriel had saw some punk rockers and departed after dropping his pack on his bunk. Wanting to keep an eye on I set out to look for him AFTER taking a shower. (One of things that separates a 17 yr old from an adult.)

Wandering the ancient streets of Pamplona, known for both the “Running of the Bulls” and a tenure by Ernest Hemingway, I was disappointed to see that the celebrations were not “Easter” themed as I had assumed coming into a Catholic town. People seems to be waving flags and posters (as well as drinking) quite passionately. As I scanned the crowd looking for Gabriel I was approached by a local who asked if he could help me.

He drew me back to his outdoor table and small group of friends all huddled around large glasses of beer. The man kept assuring me my son was fine wherever he was all while apologising to me for how drunk he was. I politely insisted I needed to move on when suddenly one of the ladies at the table stood up and said, “Wait, I want to show you something.” She reached up and started to unzip her top.
“Oh, god” I thought, “please let her not be flashing me her…”
Fortunately, under her top was a small t shirt with a slogan on the front.
Whew!

She explained that it was symbol of Basque independence from Spain. That she was a “separatist” They all went on to explain that everyone on the streets, all the live music, all the banners and flags which blanketed Pamplona on Easter were a statement of the Basque people.

So much for my romantic notions of a “Christian” Easter.

I excused myself a final time but not before the local man apologised yet again for being drunk and then, extending a half eaten sandwich, asked me to have something to eat before I went.

It was hard not to like these people…

Alto del Perdon

The day after Pamplona we reached that part of the movie The Way where Martin Sheen and his entourage are admiring the wrought iron sculptures representing a number of medieval pilgrims heading west to Santiago. Of course the movie didn’t show them climbing uphill an hour before hand to reach the top. They probably drove…

The views were stunning and we ended up spending a little more time then we planned. Gabriel and I lounged around having a lunch of sandwiches and fruit. We also enjoyed some wine with our fellow pilgrim friends.