Day 5: Pamplona to Puenta la Reina
Again we awoke and packed in the dark before many of the other pilgrims were stirring. I seriously did not understand how anyone could sleep with this much excitement and especially the noise of the other pilgrims. We did not know it at the time, but some of Leo's clothes had gone missing overnight. Leo and I left before sunlight and walked through the modern downtown of Pamplona to the University at the far edge of town. As we walked a car screeched to a halt beside us and some teenagers who had obviously been partying all night asked what we were doing. We said, “Walking to Santiago”. They couldn’t believe we would walk all that way. It was a realization that not all Spaniards are teaching their children the old ways. Then it was a steady uphill through the suburb of Cizur Menor. The camino arrows even took us right through the playground of an elementary school which I found both silly and odd.
We could see the windmills on the horizon, and the long trail twisting ever up and away before us. I was worried there would be no coffee or snack for several hours, so at the very edge of Cizur Menor we detoured into a new subdivision of identical apartments and found a café, filled to the brim with people on their way to work. After our coffee and danish, we were ready for the climb.
It is hours and hours of an uphill climb through treeless fields to reach the Alto de Perdon. Slowly the windmills get closer, until you realize the trail is not taking you that way at all, and your frustrated eyes adjust to the new goal. Near the end, the trail becomes extremely steep. Leo and I pass an old man, his long gray hair tied by a bandana, pushing a bicycle up the slope. Leo stops to talk to him, but I am struggling too much for conversation. I just want to get to the top.
Leo caught up with me, and together we marvel at a natural spring that has been dry for decades. Except today the water is pouring out. I took it as a miracle meant for us! We decided to share the miracle by splashing water on our hands and face. A few minutes later and we were at the top, taking photos of the famous statues and celebrating with two dozen other pilgrims, including the Family Fearn…..WAIT! They are not all pilgrims. The road goes right past here with a parking lot for tourists. Oh, that was a moment when I truly realized the difference between what we were doing and a normal vacation
.
And then we turn to go past the Alto de Perdon. What goes up, must come down. We are stunned. This is the first of many vistas, where we can not only see for miles upon miles into the valley below, but we can see the Way laid out before us. We can see where we will be in five hours. It is a humbling experience.
The walk down was nightmarishly steep and covered in fist-sized rocks. We had to navigate slowly with our walking sticks, being careful not to twist an ankle. I was very worried about Leo, as the long downhill stretch was very painful for his leg. Four teenage Spanish boys passed us going fairly quickly, and one of them drops what looked to be a rolled-up poster. Leo called to him, and he not only raced up the hill, but then raced back to join his friends. I remember thinking that I hated teenagers.
The trail eventually evened out into flat countryside, and we looked back to marvel at what we had descended. After about an hour, we stopped for some fruit and cheese. As we sat there, Patrick from Alaska showed up. He said his Dad was about 20 minutes behind him. I was so relieved they had not left the camino, and that Terry did not have heart issues. While we relaxed on the benches, an American photojournalist came by. He wanted a photo of us doing something “with action”. I think Leo cut some cheese and I peeled an orange. We are going to be in a guidebook, I am sure. We said goodbye to Patrick as he wanted to wait for his father, and we continued to the town of Urtega. I remember thinking we should just stop there. Leo went into an Albergue with a restaurant and had his first lunch beer of our camino. This was something he would repeat often. And I did what I would often do: I got a sweet snack. I am not sure what the chocalate item was that I ate that day, but it was Heaven. And try as I might, I never found that specific chocolate item again. It was similar to a Hostess roll-up.
As we walked, we discussed what a long day it had been, and then we made the oddest choice. We decided to walk another three kilometers to see a special octagonal church called Eunate. This was recommended to us by Susanne from Germany. The last time we had seen her she was sitting on her backpack as we climbed into Roncesvalles, but now we were meeting her often when we stopped for coffee. She always had the best information. So we took the extra time and walked way out in the countryside, only to find the church closed. Susanne and Violetta (Poland?) suggested we wait a little while and it would reopen. And sure enough it did a few minutes later. A small chapel. That was all, and I have to admit, I was disappointed.
Some other pilgrims took off their shoes and walked around the unusual church barefooted. I still don’t know why. Leo and I found the caretaker to get our credencial stamped, and then we continued to Puente la Reina. As we approached there were signs for Hotel Jakue, which boasted a jacuzzi! We were more than ready for that and stopped for the night.
Sadly once we were checked in to the Albergue portion…the hotel was upstairs, the Albergue in the basement… we discovered the jacuzzi did not work. However, the hotel had an amazing buffet dinner, with a wine tap for free wine. We met a wonderful group of people that night at dinner, with Helen, Robert and Barbara from the Channel Islands, including Gary and Maxine (Australia), and a bunch of women from Germany. There was also Maas (Germany), Maria (the Swiss girl from day one eating the banana) and Anna and Fizz from the UK. In fact the six of us would bunk together in an airtight, completely dark room in three bunkbeds. This is the night I discovered I snore.
Again we awoke and packed in the dark before many of the other pilgrims were stirring. I seriously did not understand how anyone could sleep with this much excitement and especially the noise of the other pilgrims. We did not know it at the time, but some of Leo's clothes had gone missing overnight. Leo and I left before sunlight and walked through the modern downtown of Pamplona to the University at the far edge of town. As we walked a car screeched to a halt beside us and some teenagers who had obviously been partying all night asked what we were doing. We said, “Walking to Santiago”. They couldn’t believe we would walk all that way. It was a realization that not all Spaniards are teaching their children the old ways. Then it was a steady uphill through the suburb of Cizur Menor. The camino arrows even took us right through the playground of an elementary school which I found both silly and odd.
We could see the windmills on the horizon, and the long trail twisting ever up and away before us. I was worried there would be no coffee or snack for several hours, so at the very edge of Cizur Menor we detoured into a new subdivision of identical apartments and found a café, filled to the brim with people on their way to work. After our coffee and danish, we were ready for the climb.
It is hours and hours of an uphill climb through treeless fields to reach the Alto de Perdon. Slowly the windmills get closer, until you realize the trail is not taking you that way at all, and your frustrated eyes adjust to the new goal. Near the end, the trail becomes extremely steep. Leo and I pass an old man, his long gray hair tied by a bandana, pushing a bicycle up the slope. Leo stops to talk to him, but I am struggling too much for conversation. I just want to get to the top.
Leo caught up with me, and together we marvel at a natural spring that has been dry for decades. Except today the water is pouring out. I took it as a miracle meant for us! We decided to share the miracle by splashing water on our hands and face. A few minutes later and we were at the top, taking photos of the famous statues and celebrating with two dozen other pilgrims, including the Family Fearn…..WAIT! They are not all pilgrims. The road goes right past here with a parking lot for tourists. Oh, that was a moment when I truly realized the difference between what we were doing and a normal vacation
And then we turn to go past the Alto de Perdon. What goes up, must come down. We are stunned. This is the first of many vistas, where we can not only see for miles upon miles into the valley below, but we can see the Way laid out before us. We can see where we will be in five hours. It is a humbling experience.
The walk down was nightmarishly steep and covered in fist-sized rocks. We had to navigate slowly with our walking sticks, being careful not to twist an ankle. I was very worried about Leo, as the long downhill stretch was very painful for his leg. Four teenage Spanish boys passed us going fairly quickly, and one of them drops what looked to be a rolled-up poster. Leo called to him, and he not only raced up the hill, but then raced back to join his friends. I remember thinking that I hated teenagers.
The trail eventually evened out into flat countryside, and we looked back to marvel at what we had descended. After about an hour, we stopped for some fruit and cheese. As we sat there, Patrick from Alaska showed up. He said his Dad was about 20 minutes behind him. I was so relieved they had not left the camino, and that Terry did not have heart issues. While we relaxed on the benches, an American photojournalist came by. He wanted a photo of us doing something “with action”. I think Leo cut some cheese and I peeled an orange. We are going to be in a guidebook, I am sure. We said goodbye to Patrick as he wanted to wait for his father, and we continued to the town of Urtega. I remember thinking we should just stop there. Leo went into an Albergue with a restaurant and had his first lunch beer of our camino. This was something he would repeat often. And I did what I would often do: I got a sweet snack. I am not sure what the chocalate item was that I ate that day, but it was Heaven. And try as I might, I never found that specific chocolate item again. It was similar to a Hostess roll-up.
As we walked, we discussed what a long day it had been, and then we made the oddest choice. We decided to walk another three kilometers to see a special octagonal church called Eunate. This was recommended to us by Susanne from Germany. The last time we had seen her she was sitting on her backpack as we climbed into Roncesvalles, but now we were meeting her often when we stopped for coffee. She always had the best information. So we took the extra time and walked way out in the countryside, only to find the church closed. Susanne and Violetta (Poland?) suggested we wait a little while and it would reopen. And sure enough it did a few minutes later. A small chapel. That was all, and I have to admit, I was disappointed.
Some other pilgrims took off their shoes and walked around the unusual church barefooted. I still don’t know why. Leo and I found the caretaker to get our credencial stamped, and then we continued to Puente la Reina. As we approached there were signs for Hotel Jakue, which boasted a jacuzzi! We were more than ready for that and stopped for the night.
Sadly once we were checked in to the Albergue portion…the hotel was upstairs, the Albergue in the basement… we discovered the jacuzzi did not work. However, the hotel had an amazing buffet dinner, with a wine tap for free wine. We met a wonderful group of people that night at dinner, with Helen, Robert and Barbara from the Channel Islands, including Gary and Maxine (Australia), and a bunch of women from Germany. There was also Maas (Germany), Maria (the Swiss girl from day one eating the banana) and Anna and Fizz from the UK. In fact the six of us would bunk together in an airtight, completely dark room in three bunkbeds. This is the night I discovered I snore.
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