Waiting in Pamplona

Aug. 30, 2012

I’m spending today seeing Pamplona. Even though my plan has been changing as I travel, it always included an extra day in this city.

I have always loved to explore places that normal tourists might miss, to see how people live, love and laugh away from the eyes of strangers. But I am troubled in Pamplona.

As I walked the city this morning, little held interest for me, the plazas, the statues, the churches, the people. I was annoyed by the cars and even the buildings. I saw a lone Peregrino walking the Camino out of town and I made a point of wishing him well.

The day threatens rain, and that can be hard for those on the Camino, but all I could think of was how cool the wind would feel on my face.

I have spent most of the past week in the mountains. There have been no real towns since St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port, which without its claim on the Camino Frances would be almost nothing. I have grown used to the arduous climbs, the frightening descents, the company of sheep and cattle and Peregrinos. I have also grown used to the hours of solitude.

Sometimes I am only thinking about my next step. Other times I think about my mother, my life, my God, my place. It is easy to do it in the quiet of the Camino.

I have enjoyed the comfort of my hotel, sleeping in a room alone without the sounds of others around, but it has not been as satisfying as I expected (although I appreciate the double shower head and the hot water for my sore calves).

I have stayed in three albergues so far — hostels for Peregrinos — and they have been more comfortable than I expected. In Orisson I shared a room with six; in Roncesvalles, a massive dorm divided into private areas of four; in Zubiri, a room for 10 with a private bath and a comfortable common area downstairs. It surprises me how I have grown used to that, but people are so tired at the end of the night that just having a relatively comfortable bed is the most important thing.

Still, I will remain in Pamplona until morning. Then I will once again pick up my pack and rejoin the Way.