One Year Ago: Walking at Last
(from my journal)
Roncesvalles
Easter Tuesday / 6:52AM
“Wake Up, Little Susie” at 6:30, played on guitar and sung by a very enthusiastic minstrel. Oy.
Looking back at Roncesvalles
Setting off at last! This is the photo that every pilgrim has taken.
Zubiri / Albuergue Zaldiko
Easter Tuesday / 3:45PM
Set off with Linda from Germany. We had breakfast in Burguete, 2.5km on. The café con leche was amazing. It was so good, in fact, that rather than face the suddenly pouring rain, Linda stayed there for another cup.
Bar Fronton, Burguete
I pressed on, now clad in my bright red poncho, and soon met up with Eamon from New Zealand and Cliff from Massachusetts. We walked and talked together through the forests of Navarre, gradually accreting others as we went.
Cliff (left) and Eamon (right) – lunch in Viscarret
The villages we passed through transcended picturesque and touched beautiful. The meadows had horses and sheep, and the misty forested hills spread in all directions.
The Camino, however, was made of mud.
We lunched in Viscarret, where I discovered the amazing bocadillo de jamón, and of course more café con leche.
We slogged up hill and down through the mud, though the sun came out in the afternoon, and away went the poncho.
Originally, I thought to push ahead to Larrasoaña, but by the time we arrived in Zubiri, I was beat. (21.5km… plus 5% for mud!)
Cliff is a retired firefighter, who’s meeting his wife in Santiago. She’s a retired schoolteacher who had planned to take the Camino as well, but family issues forced a change in plans. He’s walking on some new, replacement hips. He joked that they were still under warranty.
Eamon is younger. He worked for a tech retailer for ten years, moving from stock to management to administration. He eventually got fed up and is now travelling the world on his savings.
The Hills of Navarra
Albuergue Zaldiko
This afternoon we caught up to some folks that Eamon and Cliff had made the crossing from St. Jean with. The five of us went for dinner.
Our Camino family. From left: Eamon, Ali, Cliff, Kristof, me.
Ali is from the UK – though she, her husband, and children (twins!) now live in the French Alps. They moved there about two years ago. She’s “spiritual but not religious”, but she thinks that more people should spend time in churches, “just sitting, so they can learn to listen to themselves”.
And then there’s Kristof from Bruges – the self-described “fat Belgian”. He jokes and laughs frequently, and is larger than life in many ways. He pats his belly as he says, “people always ask me – your baby, when is it due?”
He owns a meat packing plant with his brother, staffed by Polish immigrants. He has a Polish girlfriend along with a wife and children, which he says nobody seems to mind. He’s walking because he needs to simplify his life.
Met up with Linda at dinner; she was already ensconced in a new “pilgrim family”. It’s funny how these form, break up, and form again as you go.
Leaving the others at the albuergue, Eamon, Kristof, and I had a walk around Zubiri during the evening. The town of 4,000 is bounded by the river and the highway to Roncesvalles.
An evening stroll in Zubiri
Photos: Day 1.