Once again, sleep was not that great last night. Shaun started snoring right away before I could. I woke Pam up to get ear plugs and then I got my revenge. I felt sorry for the German woman that was in there–between Shaun and me, she had to have a crappy night. She was still in bed when we headed down for breakfast at 8.
Because we were late getting in the refuge last night, we got the second seating for breakfast at 8a. I got down there a few minutes early because I didn’t want an upset hostess again. The breakfast was a nice spread of carbs, coffee, and juice which we overate (yes, we are Americans).
Shaun doesn’t seem to be too much of an early riser if given a chance to not be. Closer to normal departure time for us today at 9:30. The trail was ideal: nearly level, in the woods, and along a river. We were making good time once again. We picked up another pilgrim along the way–Jack, aka “Santiago” a Flemish man from Belgium. I talked a little history and politics with him for a while. It made the trail time go faster. He walked with us for a couple of miles to Zuriain.
There was a nice old stone bridge across the river and we saw a bunch of pilgrims picnicking in the grass behind a cafe/albergue. Once we got in, we saw Rob and Michelle and they asked us to join them. We had a nice break with coffee and M&Ms–the world is good.
The walk after the Zuriain was a pleasant stroll through the woods adjacent to a river. We were meeting and talking to people so time and miles were flying by.
As with all hikes so far, our bodies tend to stop about 2 miles before we need them to. Today was no exception. As soon as we entered the tunnel under the interstate, the path turned to concrete. We had 3 miles of painful concrete walking ahead of us.
I got to wondering what George was doing. I thought he might already be in Pamplona because he had started to shake from cellular withdrawals when we left him yesterday. I knew he needed a sim fix bad.
After walking with people all day, the streets were eerily deserted. We hardly saw any pilgrims walking. We were still on the path but everyone must have opted for taxis instead. We contemplated a bar to get a few beers to deaden the pain in our feet. Instead we pushed on and were eventually rewarded with exactly what we needed to forget our pain–Pamplona old town.
As soon as we entered the Portal de Francia, Shaun’s luck started paying off. He ran into Richard who he had hiked with the first couple of days. Richard had found a cheap room in a Pencion which had extra rooms. He took us there and the owner met us at her door wearing a house coat. She was 4′ of pure spitfire and spoke absolutely zero English. That’s only fair since our Spanish is non-existent. She forcefully made everything very clear though. We got rooms for two nights so we could enjoy the city without worry of being kicked out of our beds at 8a.
Showers and clothes change were quick because the desire for beer was quite strong. We met Richard again and he took us to a bar he hadn’t tried yet. Richard has been in town since noon and has been walking the streets finding out where all the action is. He was a great tour guide. We think he might have been on the payroll of the City of Pamplona Tourism Council.
Richard took us to the cathederal where a service was happening.
We tried to make our way back to another bar, but there was a triathlon going on and we couldn’t get around the streets. We continued to explore until we headed back to the Plaza Consitorial where we ran into Rob and Michelle with ring side seats in a bar on the triathlon route. We were set for the night.
Actually, after 3 or 4 rounds and pixtos we decide to change locations to get some better people watching views. We made it to the plaza we were originally shooting for. We got a prime table and set up shop. We continued seeing people we knew including the couple from Pennsylvania that got their credentials just before us in St Jean–Pat and Steve.
George got a text through to us telling us he had made it into Zubiri today and was feeling much better. He was going to catch a taxi into Pamplona in the morning to catch up with us again. Since we were feeling no pain and feeling lucky, we decided to test Pam’s homing skills to see if she could get us back to the hotel. Anyone brave enough to think a slightly inebriated Pam has a better sense of direction? I’ll give you an address where to send any money you would have bet on her.
