(Dave) Here we are in Pamplona, on a bit of a rest day -- only about five kilometres with the packs today! It does feel like a rest, as does being in a hotel room rather than a room full of relative strangers.
So... last time I checked in I was about to begin the Camino. Now I'm about 72 kilometres in, and Karen is about 45 or so. We're a bit footsore, and can always feel our knees and calves and shoulders -- but all in all, we're fine! But... I'm getting ahead of myself.
I began in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, after having gotten off the train from Paris. Odd beginning a pilgrimage on a bullet train! The European train system is amazing, but that story is for another time. By the time we got on the much slower train from Bayonne to St. Jean, almost all of the passengers were pilgrims. People from Canada, Australia, England, Ireland, Korea... We quickly formed up and went looking for the Camino office, where we were oriented to the Camino and led to our first refugio. We packed into crowded sleeping rooms -- bunks as little as 5 inches apart -- and went off to a pretty decent dinner, and got to know one another a bit. Early to bed, and early to rise -- and by 7:30 I was off towards Roncevalles and Spain.
The weather was spectacular -- has been every day we've been here so far -- and I was part of some of the later folks to leave St. Jean. I was walking with James, another Canadian we met on the train all the way from Paris. My pack was too heavy, and as I have discovered since, ill fitted to me! But the conversation was great, and the scenery wonderful. The high route -- la route Napoleon -- was closed because of snow, so we travelled the low route -- on the side of the highway almost all the way.
The first day is hard -- 27 km, with lots of ups and downs, and almost all on hard pavement. Most of us had some equipment issues, and so it seemed like the distance kept increasing in front of us. Eventually a group of about six of us banded together, encouraging one another, sharing food and chocolate at low moments. It was an amazingly diverse group, really -- James and I, middle aged Canadians, a young French woman, two young Koreans who could barely speak English, and a somewhat wild Irish 20-something fellow. Frank, the Irishman, and the Koreans could have left us in the dust, I'm quite sure -- but they stuck with us and we made it through together.
More later on the way community seems to form on the Camino -- we're all looking for connections, I think, so things happen very quickly and people seem willing to talk more deeply than usual, right away.
One of the fun things... James and I were in the rear, as usual, when we came upon a sleeping bag lying in the middle of the trail. "I'll bet someone up ahead will want this," we thought, so we picked it up. Sure enough, one of the Koreans had dropped it unwittingly. Next day it was a pair of gloves -- those were James's, dropped by accident when it warmed up in the later morning. I began to think of myself as the guy who picked up after the others! Then on the second night, in Zubiri, we had a chance to gather some of our laundry together and throw it in a machine. We did so -- and I came out one sock short. Well, I looked, our friends looked too, but we didn't find it. I figured the refugio person who put the laundry in probably dropped it somewhere. Until next day, when I complained about it. Fred, the other Irishman in our group, said brightly: "I found a sock!" Sure enough, there it was. I had left it behind in Ronscevalles, and he had picked it up figuring that someone might want it down the line...
So here we are, resting in Pamplona. We have some new friends, we have sore feet, and we have our first miles behind us. We are beginning to acclimatize to walking with a pack on, and we are remembering how much we love Spain and Spanish culture. And we are entering into the Camino experience, an odd mixture of bodily stress and pleasure (think spring, scenery, cafe con leche, jamon iberico, tapas...), deep conversation and inarticulate searching, new friendship and the challenge of close contact with near strangers.
We are well under way. So far, so good!
So... last time I checked in I was about to begin the Camino. Now I'm about 72 kilometres in, and Karen is about 45 or so. We're a bit footsore, and can always feel our knees and calves and shoulders -- but all in all, we're fine! But... I'm getting ahead of myself.
I began in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, after having gotten off the train from Paris. Odd beginning a pilgrimage on a bullet train! The European train system is amazing, but that story is for another time. By the time we got on the much slower train from Bayonne to St. Jean, almost all of the passengers were pilgrims. People from Canada, Australia, England, Ireland, Korea... We quickly formed up and went looking for the Camino office, where we were oriented to the Camino and led to our first refugio. We packed into crowded sleeping rooms -- bunks as little as 5 inches apart -- and went off to a pretty decent dinner, and got to know one another a bit. Early to bed, and early to rise -- and by 7:30 I was off towards Roncevalles and Spain.
The weather was spectacular -- has been every day we've been here so far -- and I was part of some of the later folks to leave St. Jean. I was walking with James, another Canadian we met on the train all the way from Paris. My pack was too heavy, and as I have discovered since, ill fitted to me! But the conversation was great, and the scenery wonderful. The high route -- la route Napoleon -- was closed because of snow, so we travelled the low route -- on the side of the highway almost all the way.
The first day is hard -- 27 km, with lots of ups and downs, and almost all on hard pavement. Most of us had some equipment issues, and so it seemed like the distance kept increasing in front of us. Eventually a group of about six of us banded together, encouraging one another, sharing food and chocolate at low moments. It was an amazingly diverse group, really -- James and I, middle aged Canadians, a young French woman, two young Koreans who could barely speak English, and a somewhat wild Irish 20-something fellow. Frank, the Irishman, and the Koreans could have left us in the dust, I'm quite sure -- but they stuck with us and we made it through together.
More later on the way community seems to form on the Camino -- we're all looking for connections, I think, so things happen very quickly and people seem willing to talk more deeply than usual, right away.
One of the fun things... James and I were in the rear, as usual, when we came upon a sleeping bag lying in the middle of the trail. "I'll bet someone up ahead will want this," we thought, so we picked it up. Sure enough, one of the Koreans had dropped it unwittingly. Next day it was a pair of gloves -- those were James's, dropped by accident when it warmed up in the later morning. I began to think of myself as the guy who picked up after the others! Then on the second night, in Zubiri, we had a chance to gather some of our laundry together and throw it in a machine. We did so -- and I came out one sock short. Well, I looked, our friends looked too, but we didn't find it. I figured the refugio person who put the laundry in probably dropped it somewhere. Until next day, when I complained about it. Fred, the other Irishman in our group, said brightly: "I found a sock!" Sure enough, there it was. I had left it behind in Ronscevalles, and he had picked it up figuring that someone might want it down the line...
So here we are, resting in Pamplona. We have some new friends, we have sore feet, and we have our first miles behind us. We are beginning to acclimatize to walking with a pack on, and we are remembering how much we love Spain and Spanish culture. And we are entering into the Camino experience, an odd mixture of bodily stress and pleasure (think spring, scenery, cafe con leche, jamon iberico, tapas...), deep conversation and inarticulate searching, new friendship and the challenge of close contact with near strangers.
We are well under way. So far, so good!
I love the lost and found stories!!
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