- The night brought the first storm in Pamplona and outside it was raining cats and dogs. Passport is stamped and out comes my white ..new!…but cheap cagoule.. Well its not enough. Fiona looks at me and asks if I have a ponch to cover my backpack? I think me expression said it all and Lo and behold she has a spare one, Black over my white. It’s amazing. This lady thinks of everything so just like a true -looking pilgrim, I set off..out through the park and on to Puente La Reina. This is the place that Martin Sheen in the movie ‘The Way’ travels the Camino to retrace his son’s steps before he died. He stops and rests his backpack on the bridge only for it to fall. In a panic, and possessing all he travels with, he swims after it. He finds his backpack, and maybe a part of himself and his son too. Is this what I am doing?
Leaving Pamplona there is a huge steep climb…not like the Pyrenees …but none the less I don’t want to appreciate the view behind me because at this point I can’t breathe..
The descents are the worst thing because its always rubble and shale and boulders. So head down is the only way forward. Your neck aches with the backpack and the sun becomes that capricious that you burn when you wear no hat or glasses becomes before it was cloudy and then the sun hides when you have stopped to take everything out that you need!! I wont talk about knees going down steep steep inclines. I will let you imagine.
Again, you stagger in like a god forsaken individual, grateful of just a smile. Your legs will not hold up while your passport is checked and all you can think about is water…water over all of you. It doesnt matter if you stand in a shower or lay in a minuscule bath…and you must remember to wash your undies and socks…and Oh God!! Everything!!!
Note to self, …’put alarm on early and put hairdryer on to dry clothes’..