Pilgrims in Pamplona

Our third day of walking, as reported by the Spanish man at dinner, would be short.  So, after our mental and physical turmoil of the day before we decided to sleep a little later than normal.  To our surprise, it was after 8 AM when we finally got up and packed our things. It was even longer before we really got started because Ally and Kevin desperately wanted coffee and there was nothing open in our town that could provide for their addiction.

While looking for a cafe or restaurant we met a beautiful father/daughter pair.  They were so kind and had an infectious happiness.  The young woman told me that they do a week on the camino every year and it brings her so much joy because it is her dream to do this with her father.  We crossed paths with the pair at least a dozen times that day and it was nice to see their friendly faces and know a bit of their story.

It was about 5 k before we found a quaint outdoor cafe, built onto a house.  The soft-spoken German “guru” from the day before caught up with us there and joined our party. I found out his name was Simon and he was a university student in Switzerland.  Soon we parted. After eating some fruit and a muffin I wanted to walk again, rather than sit and shiver away the shady September morning.

The four of us stayed close together that day. It was a light day to me and my spirits were high. Ally seemed to struggle the most. I think she was disappointed in herself for having a hard time. At one point she explained to us her level of negativity; she would pass a leaf and say, “Did you see that mother fucking leaf? I hate that fucking leaf. I want to kill it. It got in my way on purpose.” Kevin replied simply, “Yeah. I saw that leaf.” and that made her feel better.

In the early afternoon we had reached a suburb of Pamplona, our destination for the day. The streets were busy and there was a festival occurring somewhere. We lingered a long time to my slight frustration. Kyle sat on the street in front of the Farmacia popping and doctoring all his blisters with a knife and compeed. I considered it gross and ineffective.

Then we got food at a supermarket and ate in the sunlight across the street (I sincerely hope Kyle washed his hands before eating!).  

Simon walked by us on the other side of the street and we shared smiles, hellos, and buen caminos. “Buen camino” was the typical pilgrim greeting or acknowledgement. Nearly every time (especially in the beginning of the way) that you passed someone or were passed you would exchange those words, which basically mean “good walk.” After the first few days this greeting began to lose it’s charm and we couldn’t imagine another month of saying this a hundred times a day.

The rest of the walk went quickly, but we were disappointed to find the hostel we had planned to stay in was already full. Compared to the day before we felt like we had arrived very early, but in towns like Pamplona the municipal albergues could fill up by noon.  My Chinese-Austrian friend from the first day had gotten a bed at the municipal and gave us directions to a street in the city that had more hostels. 

Walking into the city was bizarre. The only American equivalent I could think of was Medieval Times. We walked through pathways between massive stone walls into the small, but impressive city center.  The first albergue we found got our business and we were really awed by the cool modern design of the hostel. 

Cool bunkbeds!

Unfortunately, as we were being shown the different areas of the albergue, Kyle tripped on a few steps and twisted his ankle. He was obviously in a lot of pain, but we didn’t know at that time how bad it would be. 

After settling into the hostel, I did some laundry in the sink and talked to a rather large American woman. Her mom had died the previous year and that spurred her to quit her job and decide to follow her dreams. One dream was to be an actress, so she had taken up acting classes, and another was to do the camino, so here she was. 

As my laundry dried, Kyle and I set out to explore the city, albeit somewhat slowly as he tested the limits of his ankle.  We soon entered a beautiful square, where we saw strangers and familiar faces. 

Pamplona is the city of the famous “Running of the Bulls.” It seemed to be quite a tourist and party destination. There were as many people sitting on the warm street drinking as there were in the bars. We were surprised to find a vending machine full of junk food (even hamburgers) and sex toys.

Some people drinking on a narrow Pamplona street

Rather than buying anything there, the two of us went into a small store.  I got a box of Sangria and Kyle purchased a bottle of wine.  Starting to get hungry, we stumbled upon a nearly empty Hemingway themed, middle-eastern restaurant. The food was pretty good to me, but to Kyle everything was simply “wonderful!!!” I had to laugh at his over-the-top enthusiasm. 

After eating, we ran into Chen, who had directed us into the city. He had some medical stuff that he offered to let Kyle use, so we followed him to his albergue. We sat outside there for hours talking to various pilgrims. We shared our sangria and wine and our new friends all chimed in with medical advice for Kyle’s ankle. It was now swollen and changing colors so he was convinced to shave it and wrap it securely with tape. 

Before we left, I got Chen’s email address so I would have a friend in Vienna if I decided to visit there. Most of the people we met were continuing on the next day, but Kyle, Ally, Kevin and I all wanted to stay an extra day in this special city. 

I didn’t see Chen again on the camino and I didn’t make it to Vienna during that trip. Camino friends can come and go quickly. Everyone I met, whether I knew them for a day or the whole journey, made an impression on me and was an integral part of my journey.

It was dark walking back. Kyle and I were happy and tipsy and really had to pee badly.  I remember thinking how strange it was that I had met this person just a few days before and we already felt so close. We really thought that the four of us would start and finish the camino together, but things happen that we don’t plan and no one can truly plan the Way.