Camino Viejo

Imagine you awoke one morning and found yourself walking outdoors along a deserted path, then gradually realized that the familiar surroundings were not quite what they seemed. As you walked down a trail through a wide valley, the colors on the distant hillsides were brighter, the definition of the leaves and of the bark upon the trees was crisper and a certain beauty emerged that was not apparent before. You might think for a moment you were dreaming.

That is how I started my Camino Viejo this morning. This comes to mind: when a babe is born and takes its first breath, it is overwhelmed with the sensations of being alive. The blurred colors, the muffled sounds, the heat and the cold, the warm mother’s milk. I was not transported back in time that far, but far enough that I had an innocent’s wonder of the world around me.

God created heaven and earth, they say. He kept heaven and gave us the earth. Hey, I’m in. I’ll take that deal!

Well, as soon as that thought set in, I got lost. The trail I was following ended up in a brushy impassable wall. Zeus must have been angry that I had made fun of Mount Olympus. I called to Athena and she appeared as a man walking his dog. “You should have gone further on that trail before turning,” he said. “But if you go up that road, you will find your trail,” he added. So I went up the road and was again faced with an impassable brushy obstacle. But I saw Athena again, disguised as an old man looking out over the valley below. She was contemplating something profound, like, should she help me, angering Zeus, or just laugh and say “You are a lost soul! Go back to where you started!”.

Turns out the old man was lonely and wanted to talk to someone. So he explained the intricacy of the path I was on. I could do this or that, but if that, then this. I listened because he wanted to speak and I wanted to find my way. The words poured out of his mouth, often repeating what he had just said. It had nothing to do with the trail. I could see what I must do, indeed what I had to do if I were to salvage my way. But I could not leave him. He rambled on, repeating nonsense full of wisdom. I nodded and thanked him profusely, edging away. My goodness, Athena, haven’t I done penance enough? Release me!

There is no place to get a café con leche and a croissant between Berrioplano, just outside Pamplona where I started from this morning, and Irurtzun, where I found a few shops almost 10 miles later. I had a cafe con leche and a croissant. Then I had another cafe con leche and another croissant.

On my way to Hiriberri, my final destination for today, I travelled through a village called Egiarreta, where they were celebrating their feast day with a paella cook-off. There were paellas galore, sausage, seafood, rabbit. I was asked to stay for a plate, but the day was getting late and I still had 5 miles to go. I reluctantly declined, turning back two or three times after leaving to take them up on their offer but thinking better of it.

I made it to Hiriberri and Pilar, proprietess of the place where I am staying, treated me like a king.