Later when I was chatting with Camille, she offered me half her orange and some salami, and more salami with cheese. Grace.
And the next morning at the beginning of my walk I found in the middle of a path a perfectly wrapped mini-Snickers bar that had recently been dropped by another pilgrim. No question. It was my snack for later. Grace.
So, that morning that I woke up in my bunk in Larrasoaña, I got a late start. It was a chilly night, so I was appreciative that the hostelera had given me that extra blanket. I woke up with bedbug bites all down my legs though. So that's the bummer. They don't itch or anything. I also decided to wear my Teva sandals today since my pinky toe blisters persist. I've been putting essential oils and Paw-Paw ointment on my blisters to help the healing process (thank you Jaime and Cheryl). I didn't leave the albergue until around 8:30, so I was one of the last out on the trail. Most people leave around 6:30.
I walked the first portion alone. I was in a much better mood. I found that the best way to combat my negative or discouraging thoughts is to pray for someone. So every day of my journey I will be spending my walk praying for a specific person in my life. It serves a double purpose. :-)
Later on I caught up with a girl from South Korea named Amy who was also walking the Camino alone. There are some people on the Camino solely for the physical challenge of it. That's Amy. She's doing great. We only talked for a few minutes because her English is limited and I decided to go a little faster.
I walked alone again for a bit. The weather was warmer. Lots of sunshine and drier terrain.
I caught up with a group of Americans who some of them I had briefly met on the Camino the previous days. Katie is a theater tech from Berkeley, Georgia is a college professor from Texas, Lainie is an ESL elementary teacher from Missouri, and her husband, Chris, is a theology post grad student also from Missouri. It was their 2nd wedding anniversary on that day.
We walked and exchanged life details, occasionally rotating positions to talk with someone else.
I walked with Georgia and Katie, who both are married women doing the camino alone, all the way to Pamplona. Right on the outskirts we stopped for a rest where Georgia offered me cashews, dried raspberries, chocolate, and bread she was going to throw to the squirrels (I asked her for that, ha). Grace. All of that is grace.
Lainie and Chris caught up with us again and the five us entered the city of Pamplona together. The city is still surrounded by a medieval fortress--so cool. Once within the city, we parted ways.
I was going to visit the museum, but it was still 3€ even for pilgrims. I'll have another opportunity someday if it's really something I want. Pamplona, by the way, is where the Running of the Bulls takes place every year in July. I find a nice park bench in the heart of the city and played ukulele for an hour. Then I continued my trek to reach Cizur Menor (outskirt town of Pamplona). It was interesting following new types of markers throughout the city (like the placards on the ground).
Anytime there's a fountain to fill up at, I always take advantage. Even if it's just a few milliliters of my bottle. I just love how old they are. It sets me back in medieval times.
I passed the University, trudged over a few suburban bridges and up a few hills, when I finally entered the small college town of Cizur Menor. I try to make it a habit of greeting everyone I pass. Only a handful of times have they not responded, which is degrading, but all the pleasant greetings and "Buen Camino"s make up for the coldness of those few.
I think pilgrims are so common that they're either seen as a bother or seen as dollar signs. There are the few (maybe who have partaken of the Camino) who are abundantly kind and friendly towards pilgrims.
When I got to Cizur Menor, I already had in mind not to stay in a hostel or albergue. So I found the first park that was there (with mostly kids equipment), the first bench that I saw, and took a nice, long nap. I woke up around 3:00 and figured I still had time to maybe walk on to another town, so I headed in that direction following the yellow arrows. I passed through another park. This one was more of an adult and kid park. Had the jungle gym, but also lots of trees, benches, and an semi-enclosed building for what appeared to be racquetball and basketball. At this point I was the only person present. I felt the Holy Spirit** tell me to occupy a bench until sundown. So I did. I guess I'm not going any further today. I plopped Betsy on the bench and took yet another hour or so long nap. When I awoke, the park was buzzing. Kids on the jungle gym, men playing basketball in the pavilion, a mom playing soccer with her boy, people walking their dogs.
**If you don't know what that is, it's Jesus spirit that lives in me ever since I first believed him to be God. I recognize it usually by thoughts that occur to me that have a different feel than my own thoughts. They're thicker, and usually go against what I feel like doing (in a good way).
As I awoke and noticed a lot of commotion, I began to consolidate myself to a corner of the bench to make myself more approachable and less selfish with bench room (even though there were so many all in the shade). I wasn't sure why the Holy Spirit told me to sit down, but I wasn't going to move myself (even for the bathroom) until sundown in order to not miss out on whatever it was going to be.
Two things I've noticed and love about Spanish culture:
1. Dogs are loved! They are pampered, walked, and owned by many. All types of dogs. This was not as common in Mexico, so I love seeing it here.
2. Parents play with their kids. On the train, in the park, on the metro. I have noticed so many parents who make it a point to lend all their attention to their children, play toys with them, play soccer/racquetball. Not in a "spoiling" kind of way, but a "I want you to develop into a mature and confident person, so here's my respect" kind of way. I love this, too.
I read my "Not a Fan" book that my friend Sarah got for me as a birthday gift before I left. I LOVE this book. It's challenging me in my faith in ways never before. Changing my ideas on what following Jesus looks like. Affirming other ways I have already been following him. It's perfect for this journey, too. I cried a few times reading it there in the park because it's encouragement I've been needing. Grace.
Sundown came. I didn't know if God was going to send someone to invite me to stay at their home, but no one really ever approached me. Just kids to come retrieve out-of-bounds soccer balls. I was the only pilgrim in that park. Maybe God's purpose for having me stay on that bench reading for so long wasn't for me, but for someone else in some other way. I could hear some of the ladies talking about me "Es americana." "Peregrina." It was likely unusual for a pilgrim to hang out at the local park. They usually just congregate in the albergues and the bars/restaurants. But there I stayed.
So everyone was gone, the sun was down, and the bathroom was locked. I drink almost two liters of water a day and pee nothing. Not sure where it's all going. I'm not sweating much and I'm not retaining it either, since I'm dropping weight like a wet bar of soap.
It was time to find a place to sleep. It was a little to windy outside to stay on the bench, but the pavilion was gated. At around 9:30, once it was empty, I went to check if it had a way to be locked up with a key. It did not! So I hauled Betsy in with me and set up "camp". I put my boots back on since it was getting more chilly, and the grated walls allowed for wind to pass through.
The concrete floor was sooooo cold, and my sleeping bag liner did not suffice for insolation. I started the night sleeping on my stomach on top of Betsy (that's a backpack, not a person, in case you're jumping in later), using my bag of socks/underwear as a pillow, my ukulele under my legs to keep my knees of the cold floor, and my sleepinh bag liner over the top like a thin blanky. I wish a picture could have been taken; It was impressive. But that didn't last. I completely changed sleeping positions at least 10 times throughout the night. I'd check the time on my Spanish flip phone every once in a while, anticipating the moment to get up off this cold, hard floor to start the day.
It came. 5o'clock came with the resonance of the church bells. Up and at'em.
It was still dark. I bundled up as best I could, and walked by the light of the full moon. A wild bunny guided me down the first trail. The sun began to rise after an hour or so and I needed to change into my Tevas already (blisters screaming). I decided to also take advantage of the great lighting of the sunrise to whip out my compact mirror to attack a zit that's been making a home on my upperlip. I brushed my teeth and continued on. Through the tall, thick, yellow grass of the rolling hills (think last scene in Gladiator).
It was nice getting a head start before everyone else was even awake.
Eventually a French man passed me by.
"I saw you yesterday in Pamplona," he said in French. Don't ask me how I understood that. And he continued on.
My iPhone battery was almost dead so I had to limit pictures. I passed another few people as I shuffled up the hill. They must've started at the town after mine.
Once atop Alto de Perdon (Forgiveness Stop/Heights--don't know which...), I was able to look back at the panoramic view of all I had walked these past few days humbly with my God. It was a beautiful feeling. And the wind turbines hummed above us (at this point I was with three others as they took pictures). I soaked it in and continued on.
I went down river rock, through overgrowth of bushes and weeds, through three small towns, through a field of wheat, across two rivers, through a tunnel, past three small gardens, and arrived to Puente la Reina. I meandered around a bit looking for a cafeteria to get a small breakfast, coffee, wifi, and charge my phone. No cafeterias in sight! But then I remembered that the bars here have all those things.
So here I am in a bar. I bought a tortilla (Spanish quiche kinda thing) and a cup of joe. I plan to continue my trek to do half of what would be for tomorrow. I'll probably stop in Cirauqui at an albergue that's donativo (takes donations rather than a fixed rate). The muscles in my legs have been pretty sore, so we'll see how far I get.
Also, yesterday I read in a reflects in the guidebook Licha lent me about the author meeting a girl who did Camino similar to how I am. She took no money. I still have around 48€. Reading it, though, gave me hope that it's not impossible. I'll just have to remind myself to expect that there are good-natured people along the way and gratefully accept the help. Grace.
Thank you for the encouraging emails. I feel very much accompanied even if I'm physically alone.
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