Day 3: Larrasona to Cizur Menor

Dave journal:

Kind of a sketchy night. The breeze through windows only works when they’re open and, unhappily, when they’re open an enormous streetlight shines into the room. So another warm, but not hellish night. Eh. Up at 6 for another prepaid breakfast at 6:30 and back on the Camino by 6:50.

Another day of ups and downs – the Pyrenees do have foothills, after all – but over all, an easier – and shorter - hike than the previous two. Lots of grazing land since it's too hilly to plow or irrigate easily. We see cows, horses, sheep, and a few cats. The route is almost always well marked with signs or on building walls or with metal disks in the pavement. We’ve gotten lost a couple of times, but realized it fairly soon and backtracked. Not that extra steps aren’t a drag, but we knew going in that there would be hitches here and there.

The big sight on this day was the city of Pamplona, the first big (population 200,000) town we’ve been through on foot. Very well marked and, when we were uncertain, locals helped. Part of our path was past city hall down the street from a largish cathedral. Besides churchgoers – and little cuties in fancy white dresses – we also hiked through – we think – a local running event, though a small one with no bib number larger than 150. No one in much of a rush, especially since the “runners” were mixed in with the churchgoers. Very European. Later on, we passed a park with temporary tents, a blaring PA system, and the usual race ambiance so, maybe the runners we saw were just warming up or were in a separate event just for joggers. Strange though to have a running event start after 11:30.

Weather is still good, a little warm so we’re carrying more water than we really want. This results in more shoulder fatigue than we want, too. The legs are okay. This is the first time we’ve hiked on three consecutive days, so another milestone of a sort. Only 30 to go.

A little meltdown at the end of the day as we have lodging in Zizur Mayor, a mile or so from Cizur Menor and the Camino. The result is that this day was a bit longer than planned and that tomorrow will be, too, by the same amount. What can you do? The good news is that our room – at a Marriott! – seems to actually have air conditioning. Air conditioning is good. No sign of a swimming pool or hot tub, either of which would be therapeutic, but the lobby snack store has Oreos and Hagen Das so we won’t suffer. One can’t live on snacks, of course – or even Basque red wine – but locating a new place to eat each evening – and just when the feet are getting happy – ceases to be fun fairly soon.

Laundry is a metaphor for life, it seems, and we’re doing okay with washing out our shirt, panties, and socks in the sink each evening. If the socks don’t dry, we clip them to the outside of our packs and sun dry them while we walk. Not sure how keen Scout would be on drying her bras that way, but no need so far. The pack also being a metaphor for life, we’ve already talked about how we only need two pair of socks (not four) and maybe one pair of pants (not two), two pair of skivvies, etc. Other than water, the heaviest item in our packs are the second pair of shoes. Shoes are a tough call since, although there are places to buy replacements along the way, our back-ups have been road tested so we know what they can do. New shoes, even if a make and model we’ve worn before, aren’t automatically the same. Perhaps this is why we’ve been married so long: neither of us wants the trouble of breaking in a rookie.

Day six also means six days without news or turning on the TV. Not sure if we really need “Judge Judy” et al in our lives.

Later: okay, we checked in at our Mariott and, after laundry, blogging and reading, the old – and roomy – stomach takes charge and we attempt to find the only restaurant open on this Spanish Sunday. We do not succeed until a second desk clerk tells us it’s two minutes from here. We try agaIn, get the directions wrong a second time, but do stumble upon the Café Azcona which, being in Spain, really isn’t open although it is full of older men playing cards. The menu is in a foreign language, but Scout, ever the fixer of broken moments, takes her high school Spanish to the bar and procures a ham and egg sandwich, two bags of patata fritas (chips) and a bottle of 2010 red wine. (We aren’t sure if 2010 was the year it was bottled or the year it was purchased by the bar.) 10€ for the wine (see previous comment about Basque wine for 3.5 €.) We snork down this gourmet chow and depart to a “Buen Camino” from one of the card-playing geezers. Thank you, sir. We’ve gotten a good number of “Buen Caminos” and “Buen viajes” from folks and even if we aren’t exactly pilgrim-looking pilgrims, it’s a nice gesture. The senors at the Café Azcona look like actual “real” people, too; guys hanging out with buddies playing cards and having a beer; no money on the table and soccer on TV in the background. Buen viajes, gentlemen.

Then it’s back to the Marriot before the wine kicks in, a bag of “Mister Corn” (I.e. Corn Nuts to you Americanos) and a quiet evening. Sorry if this is too food-obsessed, but we figure most of our “readers” will skip over most of this, so… Plus it’s educational, seeing how travelers who thought they’d lose weight managed not to.

And, for any who might be interested, here's my GPS data for the day: map, pace, elevation, etc.

Also, I just proofed this and see all the errors, especially some in captions, but based on input from my pal Jody, I'm not correcting anything. I'm in Type B personality. Next time, I won't even proof it.

Not to brag, but look at all of,our stamps in our Pilgrim passports :-)

The road...less traveled by..sometimes

River below

View getting near Pamlona

My sweetie

Pamplona: a City Wall

Old town Psmplona: heading to church

Old town Pamplona: the race is on!!

Dave: zipping off to his shorts

Scout by one of many Camino signs

Old city hall: Pamplona

5K, Dave..suck it up...almost there!

 

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