2. Pamplona to Zubiri 5/7/12

I had a great morning walking round Pamplona. I went to the bike shop and the man in the shop confirmed that I’d put my bike together okay. I bought a bike lock and he gave me a valve (as a present) so that I could use the air pump at the petrol stations.

Pamplona is beautiful. The old part of the city is cobble-stoned and quaint.  I walked the route the bulls will be running and thought that I’d be worried if I was a shop owner there. I wondered how the bulls would know which way to go but there were many men constructing gates and fences to stop the bulls going down the wrong alleyways and streets.  I was pleased to see that the wooden fences had about 50 cm gaps so that people running with the bulls can escape if need be.  I did notice though there were some parts that only had glass windowed shops – so there was not escape route there. 

I had breakfast at a coffee shop - which interestingly was filled with women meeting friends for coffee and ham rolls or pastries. I had my expresso and a very unhealthly roll of a cured meat, potato pancake and cheese (and a couple of cigarettes).  

Then I hit the track and 20 minutes later was lost.  I was on the camino path but didn’t know how to get on the road I needed to Zubiri.  I asked a few people to show me where I was on my map but no one seemed to be able to use my map to show me where I was. Everyone was very helpful giving me detailed instructions in Spanish and I just had to nod and smile as it didn’t make me any the wiser. 

Anyway, I went back to the city and started again from the Plaza de Toros (where the bulls will run to) and decided I was best to stick to the map and not follow my nose or my instincts.   The first 10kms were not pleasant as I was cycling beside a big motorway and it was really windy – but the last 10kms, when I was out of the city proper, was on a quiet road that went gently uphill with lovely views of the countryside and Pyrenees.  Here's a house I saw on the way:

 At about 4pm I arrived at the little inn I had booked called The Hazel Stick (well that was the English translation of the name). The woman was expecting me and was very friendly and spoke English. She told me to wheel my bike round the back of the inn and explained which door to come into - and said she’d be waiting. I was pleased that she'd given me a room that opened up to the garden. When booking I had the choice of a bunk bed in the dorm or a bed - I chose the bed and was happy to pay the extra.  I hadn't heard any sight nor sound of other people and wondered if I was the only one staying.  The garden was lovely and I was looking forward to ordering a glass of beer and having a quiet cigarette sitting in the shade. I was very happy.

I entered what I thought was my room only to find it was a large lounge.  So I went back to the reception desk, paid for my room and received the swipe key.  She told me that room 104 was upstairs. ‘Great’ I thought. ‘I’ll have a view of the Pyrenees’.

The place was very peaceful and I selfishly hoped that no one else would stay here.  I opened the door to 'my room' and to my horror it opened up into a big dorm which was full of people.  I said a quiet hello, found the unoccupied bed in the corner, put my cycling gloves on it and then went straight back outside to the garden to have a cigarette and get over my shell shock (which I was surprised about and hoped hadn’t showed).

A lovely young English guy Mark came in the garden and sat and had a cigarette with me and reassured me that it’s not that bad sleeping in the dorms.  So I pulled myself together, went and had a shower and went and met the other pilgrims.

We all ate dinner together in a spotlessly clean dining room and had a great time.  At our table of 15 there were people from 11 different countries and apart from 2 young guys – everyone else was travelling on their own. 

Dinner was incredible – first course salad with a yummy dressing mopped up with bread, second course pea and ham soup, mopped up with fresh bread, third course a regional speciality – potatoe and herb cakes in a tomato course that you eat with fresh bread, and for the main course I’d chosen pork – and it was pork belly that melted in your mouth and was crispy on the outside.  It was served with crispy potatoes. Dessert was either fruit or lemon mousse. I chose a banana to take as a snack for the next day. 

We drank a lot of wine and had a lot of laughs – an older Korean woman was very funny. I’m not sure if she intended being so funny or whether it was her broken English that made her funnier – but she had us in stitches.   She would have been about 60 and I thought she was amazing to be doing the Camino.  She was sure that all the men at our table resembled different movie stars.  I was lucky to be sitting beside a Richard Gere look alike.

At 10.30pm the lights went out.  I was sitting in the garden chatting and had to use my cigarette lighter to find my way up to ‘my’ room only to remember I didn’t have the swipe card. So back down the stairs I went, grabbed the card, and went back up again to find my way to my bed without tripping over all the bags and shoes on the floor.  Then I spend the next 10 mins trying not to make too much noise as I rustled through my two panniers wondering where the hell I’d put my torch and trying not to put the flame of my lighter too near the panniers as realised that would not be a good start to my trip if I melted them.  Anyway, torch found, I wandered back downstairs, had a couple of cigarettes in the garden and then wandered back up to bed and hoped that I wouldn’t cough too much during the night. 

I had a great nights sleep and woke up at one point and could not believe how silent it was.  I'm not used to sleeping in silence (well except for the time that Jeff was over in Oz with his mum).  Everyone started getting up at about 5.30 – 6am as breakfast was served between 6.30 – 7.30am and another 'rule'  was that we had to vacate the inn by 8am.  I was the last to leave at 8am on the dot - after having a cigarette with the lovely woman working at the inn - who had served us breakfast of orange juice, coffee, cereal, toasted baguettes, jam and a sweet cake.  She had also slipped Mark, a lovely Slovenian women and me a plate of ham for our baguettes.