Arrival!

At last! Madrid Barajas Aeroporto could not have come too soon for my liking! I never sleep on planes, so after making this loop~de~loop (still trying to figure out the European keyboard, it´s very different!) according to the little map on the inflight screen before we landed (I think the pilot was perhaps playing with an etchasketch), we landed about 20 minutes late just before 10 a.m. It didn´t take too long to go through customs, but it seemed to take forever for my backpack to appear on the baggage claim. All things considered, things worked out well. We found an ATM and got Euros; we found out where to catch the bus to the central bus station, caught that bus and got to the central station, and (with some help)
got tickets for and got the bus to Pamplona, all by noon! And I am so grateful that Stella, who lived in Venezuela as a child, and Mary are both much more fluent in Spanish than I am!

The journey by bus from Madrid to Pamplona took about five and a half hours with stops in several smaller towns. It was interesting to watch the countryside we drove through, though I had trouble keeping my eyes open at points! Some of it was quite fertile, while other parts were so arid. ALL of it was quite rocky. This is the rockiest country I think I have ever been visited!
Outside of most towns are community gardens where everyone has their own section growing onions, artichokes and much more. Energy efficiency is everywhere, unlike at home. The beautiful and graceful windturbines line the ridges of hills, while solar panels of varying sizes are both in fields and on the top of many buildings. Most of the faucets in restrooms and just about every light switch is on a timer, so as not to waste any precious resouces. Oh that we in the US should be so mindful and such good stewards!

In Pamplona, we made our way to the Alburgue Jesus y Maria (is that not a good portent?) which is located in an old convent. Lovely place to stay. Then we had dinner in the Cafe Iruna (the Basque way of saying "Basque") on the Plaza de Castillo that Ernest Hemingway made famous. It is not a particularly good dinner, but the interior is a wonderfully preserved piece of Victoriana. I have fish and french fries. The next morning, we had our first taste of being pilgrims - waking up to the stirring of everyone else, repacking everything into our backpacks, and getting ourselves ready to hike! We found that some pilgrims bring seemingly everything with them - in the next bunk area over, they even had a little coffee maker! Mary and I went out into the courtyard to do our centering prayer (I didn't know it then, but it was one of only a few times on the pilgrimage I would find a quiet place to do it.) We were the last to leave the alburgue. While waiting for our shuttle to take us over to St. Jean-Pied-du-Port, France (pilgrims call it SJPP!) where we would officially begin, we decided to explore Pamplona a bit. We walked up the street to see the Cathedral, which is being restored, and nearby, Pamplona's version of "Rainbow Row" like Charleston. We also saw their city hall
and the bull ring where, after the Running of the Bulls (San Fermin, in July), the rest of the action happens. There is a monument to Hemingway there, as well as this monument to the bulls. While Mary has more understanding and sees some sort of grace in bullfighting, I can't say that I'm there. We will come back through Pamplona in another few days.

Caroline, a delightful young French woman, picked us up in a shuttle and then transported us to St. Jean Pied du Port, our beginning for the journey. We noted how winding and narrow the road is through the mountains. She told us that when the mountain that we are to cross is not passable, this is the route that pilgrims have to take. I hoped that we would not have to do this because of competing with traffic and, since it is down in the winding passes, there are no views.