Getting there

Home at last! Now I can start posting properly...

I arrived at Madrid airport May 12th after an uneventful but tiring nine-hour flight. There I had to change terminals, going to terminal four to get the bus into Madrid to the coach station at Av de Americas. At the coach station I bought my ticket for Pamplona and waited a couple of hours until it was time to go. No language problems so far, my Portuguese/Spanish mixture seems to be understood, thank goodness. The journey to Pamplona took over 5 hours, not much fun when I was already tired, but I amused myself looking at the countryside and towns we passed through.

First impressions of Spain - very environmentally friendly. Many of the hills had clusters of wind turbines on them, and we passed one large field that was entirely given over to massive solar panels. Even small villages had recycling bins. A bit of a contrast to where I live. I was also struck by the lack of people in even largish towns. This was the middle to late afternoon, and there was not a soul in sight, no children, dogs, people running errands or in their gardens, literally no-one. All the shops and businesses were closed and houses had closed shutters. It was like a sci-fi film where something mysterious has happened and all the people have disappeared. I know the Spanish have siesta time and shops close, but I really didn´t expect the places to look so totally deserted.

I arrived in Pamplona about eight in the evening, knowing I would have to spend the night there as the only daily bus I needed to catch to my starting point in Roncesvalles left at six in the evening. I hadn´t made a reservation anywhere as I had decided to see what was available when I arrived. This was most uncharacteristic of me as I am one of those people who organises and plans things down to the smallest detail. However, for my Camino I had decided to leave things to fate, whatever happened was fine by me. I wanted to be open to experiences and opportunities which wouldn´t arise in a meticulously planned trip. Strangely enough, this philosophy worked so well it became almost spooky, as I have commented before. Whatever I needed just appeared by coincidence.

I found the tourist information office in the bus station, but it was closed. Just as I was wondering who to ask for directions to the nearest albergue, a woman came out of the closed office. Somewhat grudgingly she gave me a map, having circled where I was and where I needed to go. Two German pilgrims who came up just then, wanting B+B information, were given short shrift!

I found the Jesus and Maria albergue without too much trouble, booked in, went out for a snack and then had an early night as I was very tired. This was my first albergue experience. Luckily it wasn´t too crowded or noisy, and I never heard any snorers as I fell asleep straight away. It was strange waking up in the morning, in a sleeping bag, in a room full of strangers, though. It took a few days for me to get used to this.

I spent that day sightseeing in Pamplona, a very nice and interesting city. I had a coffee in the bar Hemingway frequented, and walked the route the bulls take when they run through the streets. I was a bit hampered by having to carry The Beast around with me all day, but I managed to see most of what I wanted and to buy the few bits and pieces I needed. I went to the bus station early for my bus to Roncesvalles, which was just as well as later more and more pilgrims appeared and I think there wasn´t enough room for all of them.

The trip to Roncesvalles took just over an hour. All the way up I was staring out the window at the hills, thinking "I´ve got to come down that lot", and hoping I´d be able to manage it. At the monastery we all booked in, but instead of being in the enormous converted barn I was in a small dorm with about twenty bunks. You had to book a meal at one of the two restaurents before the pilgrim mass, then have your dinner after. The 12th century church was lovely and I enjoyed the service. It was awesome to think of the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who had passed that way down through the centuries, and to know you were a part of it. One of the priests gave a special pilgrim blessing in each language of the nationalities present, even in Korean and Japanese, which I thought was a lovely touch.

After an uncomfortable and rather lonely dinner - I was sitting at a table with two chaps who didn´t speak English and only concentrated on their food - I went back to the dorm for a shower and an early night.