The Happy Pilgrim

It has been a week since I set out from St Jean Pied de Port and as I sit down in a local bar by a warm sunny window in Los Arcos I reflect back on what an adventure it has been so far. I have met some amazing people and seen some spectacular landscapes and breathtaking architecture. I have not been fortunate to travel overseas to Europe (until now) and have been a sponge to the beauty of the Spanish landscape. Those rolling hills, the wheat that moves (like waves) in the wind, the quaint villages and the ornate buildings brings the joy of walking to a whole new level for me.

I have found myself tuned in to so much more. The door in a village or even a stained glass window that has been nurtured for centuries really has been quite moving. To be fortunate enough (fit and healthy) and to have the time to walk through this countryside is wonderful, and it’s only week one. I am feeling well, I have a few aches and pains, thankfully my legs getting stronger every day. I feel the rhythm of the track and am getting used to the tired legs as I approach the final 4-5 kms into the final destination village or  town. I have a bit of structure to my day and even if I am a bit weary have taught myself not to fall asleep in the afternoon (otherwise I won’t sleep until quite late).

I think back over the previous days and fondly recall our Pilgrims de-brief in Zubiri. Over a pretty ordinary Pilgrims dinner we all shared our thoughts on the day we crossed the Pyrenees. Not many people can say they did that by foot, and as Pilgrims starting from SJPDP we have joined a growing group with a shared experience. We spoke about  the views, the weather and of course  the humour of a hut in the middle of nowhere. It was a surprise because we were told there was nothing between Orrisson and Roncesvaux.  It was situated almost at the top and provided a cup of tea or coffee and shelter from the weather.

You could go inside or stay outside and still get some type of shelter from the weather.  Suzanne went in,  and others (like Charlotte and I) stayed out side. After a few wines at dinner we moved downstairs to the bar (where we really should have had tapas instead of the Pilgrims menu) .  We all agreed The Hut could be a parallel  universe. Helen decided to leave return to the albergue. She knew what was going to happen, we were given a nice shot of “some local spirit”  to warm ours.  It was slightly reminiscent of Benadryl,  I sipped mine and went straight on to water after that! The next hour was hilarious! It’s probably a good thing the ladies needed to get back to their albergue as there was a curfew and that’s all I need to say about that!  My sides were aching in laughter.

By that stage of the evening we decided make a good script for a TV series (possibly screened on the BBC). We laughed loudly at the fact Charlotte and I didn’t go in because the guy outside the hut looked a bit suspicious and we didn’t have time or energy to spare. The Napoleon route over the Pyrenees is a big constant climb to around 1400 metre and we were pretty focussed on getting across to the other side. It was so cold I thought it would snow and a few times I told Charlotte I am just channelling all my energy in to my fingers. The day had been amazing and I was sufficiently warm and fit enough to get across but I did find myself wondering what frost bite would look like (and how I could possibly type my blog with damaged fingers).  Suzanne had the same “cold fingers” experience (must have been an  Australian thing) and she went straight into The Hut. She arrived earlier (because she’s a gun and walks very quickly) and was probably the first ones there. She recalled weighing up the possible danger of going into a hut in the middle of nowhere (versus frost bite on her fingers) and in she went prepared to sacrifice her body as long as those fingers got into the fire!  The funny comments about her reflections and her risk assessment of the situation provide a great sense of entertainment that night and during other nights when the gang got together.

There have been plenty of opportunities to feel the magical spirit of the Camino especially with kindness and helpfulness from the locals. As Charlotte, Suzanne and I walked out of Pamplona we stopped in a local fruit shop to get a banana, we were offered a strawberry (very delicious) and the price was very cheap. I pulled out a 50 Euro note (same as Suzanne) and we cringed at how annoying this would be for the shop keeper. Luckily we found the right change in our purse and after some polite chat, we headed off back on the Camino. Four shops away the young shopkeeper called us back and returned the 50 Euro note I had dropped. A beautiful act of kindness and honesty and I wouldn’t have even noticed it missing until the night.

I am a Christian, and baptised in the Anglican Church, I celebrate my faith in my own very personal way. I don’t attend church often but do take something away most of the time. I enjoy sermons that are engaging and relevant. It’s fair to say not all priests are engaging (or relevant). I have never sat through a service in another language and never been in an 11th or 12th century church. The service in Pamplona was moving (but that’s not even the right word, I can’t find the right word to describe it). It was sort of like that lump you get in your throat when you recall something really moving or special and tears well up in your eyes and you think to yourself “am I going to cry or something”? Listening to the locals singing was just beautiful and nearly the whole mass was sung. By the time the “peace be with you” part came up I was feeling amazing.

There is of course a similar feeling when walking through northwest Spain. Those mountains and fields of wheat, the flowers and listening to the birds singing. Today I set out on my own from Estella. My first real “solo” day. I will miss Charlotte and hope she can experience more of the Camino in coming years.  She was a great conversationalist and made the time pass quickly. Sometimes we just walked and other times we talked and while we are quite different we found many things in common. I found walking alone meant I had to keep my eyes open and tuned in to the sign posts. It also meant that at breakfast (finally) I was forced to open my guide book and browse through some key points for the day!

I stopped at Bodegas Irache, which has a font of both water and wine. There were people filing up their water bottles with wine (I thought this a bit silly personally) wine is served with the meal and if you do have to pay for it it’s very cheap. When I got there it was only just 8:30am and that’s far too early to be drinking wine in my opinion. Spanish wine is delicious and the highlight of the evening with fellow Pilgrims. There continue to be familiar faces along with way, Sophie (German born and living in Canada), Nuala  (from Ireland) and of course the sisters from Holland Kaaren and Lucia. I have also seen the mother and daughter combination from the US (the daughter Crystal) has a squirrel mascot on her walking pole and his name is “nuts” (as you would expect!).

I spoke briefly to a German man in is 70s and also a Scott from the US who set off with a friend who was joining him for a week but sustained an injury and was bussing ahead. This is a pretty common thing for people so that pairs can continue (one walks on alone and the other one goes by bus or taxi so they can recover). Injuries happen to everyone (all ages and fitness levels) and I am so blessed that I haven’t sustained any so far. No blisters either which mean not only did I train my stamina, I had trained by feet, shoes and socks right. I hope those of you who are praying for me will keep my health in mind as poor health means a hard days walk. If the walk is hard you don’t see all the beauty that surrounds you (well you see it, but your energy is focussed elsewhere).

I went to mass again in Los Arcos. I couldn’t work out the time it started but headed into the square and visited the church and took some photos. I guessed it was on at 7:30PM and was right, they have a special Pilgrim’s component and we all received a prayer card in our own language. This was very special and lovely to see some of the familiar faces (Pilgrims from the Camino) also in church. As a non-Catholic I have been going up for a blessing but the priest gives me the communion anyway. I understand that Helen does the same, so I will work that one out a bit more as I go along. The church service was longer than the one in Pamplona and not sung all the way through. The singing was loud and in beautiful harmony, but this time there was no organ music. The locals who attend are all over 70 which is sad but the Pilgrims filled the church which was joyous, they prayed for us on our journey and asked the Pilgrims to pray for the church community. It was just so lovely.

My bar experience was also very pleasant. I  found a quiet sunny spot in a “local” bar which, amazingly was playing all my favourite songs from the 70s, 80s and 90s. I had three tonic waters with extra lemon, and felt relaxed and hydrated and happy.  The rain clouds had been blown away and the sun was shining brightly through the window. I sat next to a big window and it was like sitting next to a fire. It was a  bit nippy outside due to the wind and I was enjoying this unique spot I found to write. The bar tender wanted me to taste the local beer (so did my walking companions earlier in the square) but it’s a bit too cold for beer for me. I am happy to enjoy the local red wine later for dinner. It was so cosy and I figured if I sat much longer I may have  nodded  off! I left to wonder around about 7:00PM and found my way to the church.

I will sign off now and work on uploading some of my better photos in the coming days. I started this draft yesterday and have woken early today to review and post before heading off to  Logrono. It’s 28kms today and I imagine I won’t have the time or energy to write when I get in this afternoon.  I have taken lots of lovely photos and spent an hour yesterday afternoon in the bar  deleting all the bad ones and starting the draft of this page (which I will publish now).

If anyone wonders what it’s like walking these distances, it’s amazing. Everyone on the Camino “gets that” that’s why they are here.

“There is nothing like walking to get the feel of a country. A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo. Even a bicycle goes too fast.” Paul Scott Mowrer

Signing off for now – The Happy Pilgrim