Pamplona
Rest, toasts, and a big transition
Thank you, George. Not telling us about the rat scurrying on the rafters of our albergue last night helped ensure a better night’s sleep–at least for the rest of us!
After some brief morning prayer in the adjoining chapel, I hit the trail with Morgan Jr, George, and Thomas. Thankfully, it’s a short and mostly flat walk into the traditional pilgrim respite city of Pamplona today. We stroll through parks alongside the Ríos Arga and Ultzama and navigate some modern suburbs before entering the old city through its fortified medieval walls. We arrive at our final destination blissfully early for a change.
A Relative Rest Day
Today is a partial “rest day,” taking advantage of the amenities of a bigger city (200K) with cultural landmarks to explore. It’s a periodic practice of sabbath that comes in handy as our bodies adjust to the rigors of the Camino.
The other news is that tonight I’ve actually booked a room ahead of time. Though the last-minute provision of lodging the past two nights has been welcome, I am wary of tempting fate in such a busy season on the Camino. Tonight is also Morgan Jr.’s last night, and I want to make sure we get some dedicated father-son time before he flies back to Boston for school.
(As you can probably already tell, I am embracing the pilgrim approach to the Camino in spirit, rather than by the letter of the law. 🙂)
Before exploring the city, we check into our 2-bed room in the old district and get started with my emerging rituals. First is the sink wash of my dirty clothes. Packing for the Camino is a challenge: whatever you bring, you’re committing to carry for hundreds of miles. As a result, I’ve only brought 3 pairs of socks and underwear, so regular washing is a necessity. (You do get used to it!)
Second is my new foot care routine, crowdsourced from the collective wisdom of fellow peregrinos. I’ve already begun using KT tape on my forefoot and am using trail shoes one size larger than I typically need to accommodate swelling. Now it’s time to inspect, moisturize, and then elevate my feet on the wall above my bed for 10-15 minutes. It seems to help.
We then relax and catch up on some reading at a nearby cafe—just as our first significant rainstorm of our Camino rolls in. Good timing!
Walking with the Bulls
Perhaps it was less of a good idea to wear a bright red raincoat on the streets of Pamplona. The cape-like impact on the local bulls can be risky in certain months of the year–especially for a slow guy with two artificial knees!
Pamplona is an ancient town, best known for a centuries-old tradition called the “Running of the Bulls,” the crazy focal point of the annual festival of their patron saint, San Fermin. Ernest Hemingway brought this tradition to the attention of generations of Americans through his newspaper reporting–such as “Pamplona in July”--and novels like The Sun Also Rises.
Fortunately, it’s only early May, because thousands descend on Pamplona for the festival in July, and it’s nigh impossible to find a bed! The standard celebrant’s white outfit with a red sash is a nod to the saint’s martyrdom for his Christian faith in the 2nd century. Perhaps the masochistic practice of submitting yourself to potentially being gored or trampled by bulls is a nod to that martyrdom as well?!
(For the curious, here’s a look at the running of the bulls at the 2025 festival in July.)
Where Everybody Knows Your Name
After sitting out the heaviest of the rain, we spend the rest of the afternoon visiting various churches, plazas, and shops around town. But our feet don’t want to do too much extra walking. Soon, it’s time for dinner.
Due to his more abbreviated timeframe, Thomas has moved on, hoping to get 10-15 kms further down the trail. So, we make plans to reconnect and eat with George, who’s discovered a great tapas bar. In typical Spanish tapas style, there’s no menu needed; you just point at small dishes you want to try!
What’s extra fun is that new and old acquaintances from the Camino start randomly trickling in. Pretty soon, it’s starting to feel like the bar from the old TV show Cheers, a place “where everybody knows your name.” Which is such an odd but wonderful feeling in this strange new town in a foreign land!
We are glad to see Brad from Texas and —surprisingly —Thomas! He got caught in the thunderstorm several kms outside of town and decided to take a bus back to Pamplona. He’s soaked and got miserably lost, but takes it all in stride. “It wasn’t meant to be,” he murmurs with typical equanimity.
“Prost!”
Lifting our glasses in salute and admiration, we all exclaim in unison: “Prost!” As my Bavarian friends explain, it’s the equivalent of “Cheers” in German for a celebratory toast. It’s also a phrase that I will become very familiar with in the coming weeks!
Among the toasts tonight is one to Morgan, Jr., my “tugboat” over the Pyrenees. Tomorrow he will be flying home. Not exactly an outdoor enthusiast, he’s been a good sport to indulge his old man by helping me kickstart this journey across Spain. I’m sad to be saying goodbye to him, and a little wary of what the Camino will be like solo.
But, as I reflect on why I came on the Camino in the first place, I’m also looking forward to some solitude. Will the next stage of the Camino provide that, too?
Men: I think I shall run down the road and get gored and trampled by bulls.
Women: Men are stupid.
Love reading about your adventures. Safe travels.