CAMINO DE SANTIAGO - Week One
MONDAY, 28 APRIL
She is alot bigger than the one I drove at the University of Georgia almost forty years ago!
According to my countdown clock, it is exactly five hours and 42 minutes until my scheduled departure from Atlanta and ultimately the US, heading for Madrid. I have locked all the doors, turned off the water heater, and cut off the water. I have blown off the driveway, taken this week's trash to the curb and checked for today's mail. I am not nervous or excited, I am just a bit twitchy. I have never done well just sitting and waiting for something to happen.
My good friend from my working days, David Scott, is coming to pick me up today. He has taken me to the start of both of my Appalachian Trail attempts and now is taking me to the Atlanta airport for this latest adventure. We are planning on leaving my house at about two p.m.
After an uneventful ride, David dropped me off at the international concourse at ATL. Curiously, I have flown out of this concourse several times, but never to an international destination. It has always been to Indianapolis!
I made it through security in about two minutes! I have the new digital ID security feature on my phone and I literally walked right through. This is the kind of new technology I can get behind.
I arrived at my gate and was getting settled when I noticed the crowd at begin to sort of vibrate. The people at the gate were not jumping up and running around. It was more like they were all beginning a new task at the same time. I looked at the message board and I realized what was happening. My flight to Madrid had just been canceled! Apparently almost the whole country of Spain had lost electricity. How did that happen? Everyone at the gate was grabbing their phone in a race to call or get online with Delta to get booked onto another flight to Madrid. As I was texting with a Delta representative, I walked back toward the Delta help counter. As one would imagine, there was already a large line waiting for the next representative to help. I walked up to the old school phone bank (black pushbutton telephones from 1978) and picked one up. Almost immediately another representative answered. I told her my cancellation sob story and asked for help. She started clicking the keys on her keyboard and asked if I would mind if she placed me on hold. I said go ahead, my trip was in her hands. In about five minutes she came back on the line and asked me to wait on hold a little longer. OK, I said. Ten minutes later she came back and triumphantly announced that she had been able to get me booked on Tuesday's only direct flight to Madrid! She told me I had been booked into the last available seat. That last seat was in AN UPGRADED SECTION! I AM GOING TO RIDE TO EUROPE TOMORROW IN THE BIG CHAIR!
TUESDAY, 29 APRIL
My sister Laura picked me up at the airport yesterday evening and took me to her house where I spent the night. Laura has a nice little house with lots of stuff to look at. She is currently painting pictures of various National Parks. These are paint by number canvases that she orders and then paints. They are very detailed and she is very good at painting them. This is a patience I do not have.
We are basically waiting for the afternoon to take me back to the airport for another try at a flight to Madrid. I hope this one goes off as planned. The internet says most of the power is back on in Spain and Portugal so, fingers crossed, I will get there in the morning. My plan now is to stay two days in Madrid and then fly to Pamplona on Friday. I will then stay in Pamplona for two days because there is no public transportation on Saturday. If everything goes right, I will begin my hike on Monday.
It is now 4:00 in the afternoon and I am once again at the airport. It seems to be going better today than yesterday. I saw a couple of former coworkers at security. They did not know me and I had to look at couple of times to be sure as well. Both of them had the serious business face on full display. I assure you I did not.
As a footnote, I later found out that my former colleague has retired. I suppose his serious business face was a force of habit.
WEDNESDAY, 30 APRIL
We landed on the big Airbus A330 at about ten this morning. I slept surprisingly well on the flight to Madrid. The upgraded seat was an engineering marvel. It reclined deeply, the lower third came out to support your legs and the very bottom came out like a tiny footrest. It was like having your own Lazyboy!
The Madrid airport is appears to be in the midst of a major overhaul. Everywhere in the building is construction of some description. I decided I would just follow my A330 crowd through the maze of plywood walls and rope barriers. I figured we would eventually reach the passport checkpoint and then on to fresh air outside. This strategy worked. After about a five minute walk, I handed my passport to a friendly customs agent. He glanced at it, stuck it into a scanner, and I was on my way to freedom in Spain. It is just my opinion derived from personal experiences, but the customs agents in Canada could learn about being friendly from their Spanish counterparts.
When I went to the door, it was about fifty degrees and a bit cloudy in Madrid. The weather had the feel of early April in Georgia. I suppose it is the higher latitude in Spain that makes Spring come later.
I was struck by how many people still smoke in Spain. When I got outside the airport building, it seemed that everyone's head was on fire. I guess that the anti-smoking campaign in America has been somewhat successful over the last 30 or 40 years. Because I am 58 years old, I can remember when people could smoke everywhere like in restaurants and on airplanes. Not being a smoker myself, I appreciate not having to breathe other people's smoke. I will confess, however, I still think that the first puff of smoke from someone's unfiltered Camel cigarette that was lit by a match is a wonderful smell. It only the first puff. The rest stinks. I had forgotten that for probably 50 years. This morning, I was brought back to being eight or ten years old. When I came out the airport door, I again smelled someone lighting an unfiltered cigarette with a match and was immediately returned to my childhood. It is crazy how smells can transport you to far off places that now exist only in your memories.
I caught the hotel shuttle to my home for the next three days. I am at the Madrid Hilton for three days instead of one because of the power outage on Monday. It messed up all of my connections into France. I don't mind, however. The extra time gives me time to get used to the time change. Madrid is six hours ahead of Georgia. I have spent the day fighting sleep so that I can try to move onto the local timetable. I confess that I took an hour long nap about one p.m. I was walking about like a zombie by then. That hour helped me make it to six p.m. when I went to bed for good. I slept thirteen hours. I am actually writing this on Thursday morning because I could not get it done last night. I feel much better today. The brain fog is lifting. I might go downtown today and see what the other tourists are looking at and try my best to blend in.
THURSDAY, 1 MAY 2025
I woke up this morning at 07:30. I went to sleep at 6:00 last night and slept like a dead person. I did not realize I was that tired.
The Hilton has a HUGE breakfast buffet and I availed myself of all of its offerings. I even tried the Spanish coffee. I do not drink coffee, or any hot drinks as a rule, but I was surprised at how good this coffee is. It was too hot for me, but I let it cool a bit and drank it. The taste was strong, but not bitter. The flavor was also strong but not overpowering. I do not know a lot about coffee but I know this was tasty.
I passed the rest of the day exploring the hotel. It was kind of rainy and wet outside, so I just did indoor stuff. There is a little shop in the hotel where a man sells clothes, snacks and souvenirs. I stopped in because he has some old radios, a manual typewriter, an old bicycle and two wooden boat models on some shelving. When he saw me looking at the stuff, he asked if I was American. I told him yes and he came over to show me his collection. These items were not for sale. They were his to show off and he was proud to do so. One of the wooden boats was a stern wheeler like those written about in Huckleberry Finn. He said, "This is a Mississippi"! I said "Yes it is!" The appreciation for old junk is truly universal.
I am figuring out the food service game here. In America, when you sit at a table in a restaurant or bar space in a hotel, a server will come over and take your order. In Spain, or at least this hotel, if you plan to eat anywhere besides the formal restaurant you have to go to the bar and place your order. At about four p.m. I decided it was time for lunch (Remember I told you the breakfast buffet was huge) and I went downstairs to see what was being offered. I stood around for a few minutes and watched the foot traffic. I saw that the two people working in the bar were in charge of the food orders. As soon as you came into their area of the lobby, they acknowledged you. You have to ask for food or drink. When you ask for food, they show you a menu and you place your order and find your own table. I ordered a club sandwich and a Coke. Within ten minutes they brought the food out to my table. The sandwich was huge. If you take your two hands and place them palms down on the table, that was the general size of my sandwich. The club was like an American club except it had a fried egg on it as well. For the record, I think there will be fried eggs in Heaven.The fried potatoes were also tasty. They were not string fries like we have at home. These were cut up potato slices that had been deep fried to a golden color and served with Heinz ketchup and / or mayonnaise for the heathens.
FRIDAY, 2 MAY 2025
I woke up this morning to the sound of rain, wind, thunder and hail. Out of habit I guess, I wondered if I had put my car in the carport. I was relieved after I realized I was in Madrid. When I went to bed, I could see the lightning flashing far off in the distance. This morning the storms we right on top of Madrid. The Weather Channel says the rain should end about one this afternoon. Today is my travel day to Pamplona to the north. I am looking forward to this leg because I want to see where the Pamplonians (I am guessing this is correct) run the bulls every year. I fly from Madrid to Pamplona this evening at about eight p.m. I am going to the airport at four thirty to get through security and find my gate in time. I don't mind being too early. I despise being late. In my mind, there is no reason for being late. Everyone has the same amount of time in each day. How people manage their time responsibly is up to them. I know a man whose entire family runs twenty minutes behind the world. The whole family are wonderful people but they are consistently late. I wonder if they have clocks in their home.
As I am writing this, the sun is beginning to break through the clouds and shine into the atrium at the hotel. This Hilton appears to have been built sometime in the late eighties or early nineties. I have stayed in many Hilton properties in my time. A weird skill that I have developed is being able to tell when the hotels were built by the architecture and materials used to build them. If you are familiar with the Hilton family of hotel properties, this one looks like two Embassy Suites buildings built side by side with a smaller building in the middle connecting the two. I told you it was a weird skill.
It is now 4:00 p.m. on Friday. I am onto the second leg of my tour de España.
I am headed back to the airport to fly to Pamplona. I am staying for two days because I want to see where the bulls run and possibly the arena.
I arrived at the Madrid airport about 4:15. When I got on the shuttle, the driver mumbled something to me that I could not understand, so I did what I do with the senior citizens I transport when they do the same thing. I just shook my head in the affirmative. That seemed to satisfy the shuttle driver and off we went. He pulled up at the departure gates and I jumped out and went in. I have been in a lot of airports in my working life and I kind of understand the way they should flow. When I got to the departure board, I realized that shaking my head up and down had been a mistake. The driver had asked me if I wanted terminal one. I said yes. I needed terminal four. Madrid airport is not like Atlanta, or Detroit or Denver or Chicago. In these large metropolitan / international airports you can go anywhere you need to go without going outside. Madrid has four terminals and they are separated by long stretches of road. Terminal one is about a mile from terminal four. The land area of this airport is very large. If and when they need to expand, Madrid won't have to buy property.
So what to do now? I decided the best thing to do would be to look at the signs on the outside of the building and see if I could get a clue where I needed to go. When I went outside, sure enough there were signs directing foot traffic to bus lanes that would take you where you wanted to go. I jumped on the first one that said T4 and away we went. I arrived and cleared security in about ten minutes. I must say I have had good luck with security wait times on this trip.
I was a bit nervous about putting my backpack with my trekking poles in it on the scanner. I had read somewhere that Spain made travelers check trekking poles. My fears were unwarranted as the screener looked at it with the poles on full display and sent it to me
I smiled and took off for the gates.
Once downstairs in the terminal, I did something I had not done in years. I ate at McDonald's! I wanted to see if the food tasted the same as in the US. It did indeed! I do not think I would have known any difference in a blind taste testing.
It is now six thirty p.m. and I have two hours until wheels up for Pamplona.
Please let me whine once more. I am tired of this airport. At twenty minutes until eight and forty minutes before wheels up, the airport changed gates. The new gate was a fifteen minute walk ACROSS AND UNDER THE TERMINAL.
What do I know, but I am thinking this flight will leave late.
There you go, the whining portion of the blog is over. It is exactly 20:00 and the countdown has begun.
As I suspected, the flight was delayed. We did not leave Madrid until almost nine. The flight was only 35 minutes, so that helped. It was scheduled at an hour and five minutes, so really we were back on schedule when we landed.
SATURDAY 3 May 2025
I made it to the hotel a little after ten last night. All in, it had been a long day and I was tired. This hotel is a lot like a hostel. It has both private rooms and then rooms that share a bathroom. It is in an old building and I cannot decide if it has always been a hotel or if it was an apartment or boarding house in it's earlier life. My room is spotless, there is plenty of hot water and the little air conditioner works perfectly, so all is right in my world this morning in Pamplona. I think I may get a cab and go into the city center where they run the bulls each July. First, however, I am going to find something to eat.
It is 4:30 p.m. and I did not get a cab today. Instead, I just walked around Beriain and looked at how the working people live. Beriain is a suburb of Pamplona on the south side of town. Like most towns I guess, the south side is where the real people live. I am sure I stand out like there is a spotlight following me, but people seem friendly. I think they are just trying to make a living and get by like everyone else. I decided not to go to the old part of town because I will be walking right back through here in a few days. I will walk through the area where the bulls run so I decided to wait. It has been a beautiful day with plenty of sun and temps in the seventies. The air is dry and the clouds are fluffy.
I am leaving the hotel in the morning at 08:00. I have a taxi picking me up and carrying me to the bus station so that I can catch the bus that will take me to Saint Jean Pied de Port, France. When I get there, I plan to register as a Pilgrim, eat something and then get a place to stay for the evening. We will see if my plan holds.
SUNDAY, 4 MAY 2025
Happy Sunday from the Pamplona bus station. I am very early for my ride to Saint Jean Pied de Port at noon. For whatever reason I could not get the bus station's address to load in the app that schedules taxi rides for basically all of Spain. I tried for about 30 minutes yesterday afternoon before I gave up and went downstairs and asked the lady at the desk for help. It took a while due to my lack of Spanish and her lack of English, but we got the reservation placed. There was a lot of waving and pointing.
This morning as I was in the parking lot awaiting my hard won taxi, I started looking at the car brands that were there. Of all that were in the lot, I had only really heard of three. I knew only Mazda, BMW, and Kia. Because of my former working life, I was interested to see what brands are popular in Spain. I looked it up and Toyota is the most popular brand. Toyota was followed by Kia, Volkswagen, and SEAT. SEAT is a brand that is owned by Volkswagen. Dacia, Peugeot, Citroën, Renault, Hyundai are also popular choices here.
I looked at the gas station down the street and gasoline sells for €1.51 per litre. If you convert that to a price per gallon basis, that is about $6.61 per gallon. Diesel is about $4.48
per gallon doing the same math. I see why the small cars with tiny engines are popular here. As far as trucks go, I have not seen any pickup style trucks yet. If it is a small vehicle with a flat bed, it appears to be a transit van that has been converted. If they are large, over the road type trucks, I have seen mostly MAN. MAN is also a subsidiary of Volkswagen.
Due to my short attention span, I am walking around the bus station seeing what is going on. There is a gym, a rather large restaurant, a candy store, a subterranean parking deck, a taxi stand and the little glass fronted stations where the bus information people sit. I decided just to make sure I was in the right place. I pulled up my ticket on my phone and smiled at the lady in the bus terrarium as I held the phone for her to see. She looked at it and said, "platform eight." Apparently I am not the first confused bus traveler she has spoken to in her career.
I have never ridden a road bus before. With the cost of fuel in Europe, I can see the attraction. From my limited experience, I think what makes buses more useful in Europe as opposed to the US is the fact that these buses operate like car services. You can go from city to city on a direct route. You don't have to stop in every tiny town between two points as is common in the US. I guess the big difference however is that more individuals own cars in the US and the fuel is significantly cheaper.
As I am walking around the station in wander into the candy store. It is a bulk candy store. You pay for your cavities by the gram. I am looking at all the different candies and happen upon these suckers. All I am going to say is sorry for making you turn your phone sideways and IF YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW.
I am on the bus. It should be an hour and a half ride. It is about 80% full of Pilgrims like myself.
We made it into France at about 2:30 p.m. and it was raining. When I say raining, I mean pouring it out! I got off that bus with basically no idea where to go. I saw a pavillion up the hill towards the center of town and headed for that. At least I could look at Google Maps without having to wipe the water off my screen. When I got there, some local crafts people had been selling pottery they had made. The rain shut them down. I got my phone dried out and found the way to the Pilgrim office. It was not far, and I was wet, so out I went again and almost swam to the Pilgrim office where I registered as a Pilgrim on the French Way. I now have my Pilgrim passport that I must have stamped at every town along the way. This shows the people at the end in Santiago that I actually walked the entire Camino and did not just show up at the end of the hike in dirty clothes.
I looked at staying in a hostel tonight, but when I went in, it was about eighty degrees and I was out the door. I am staying at a hotel with six rooms called
Plan B. I suppose it is called that because it is just down the street from the Hostel. I suppose it am not the first person to jump and run.
This hotel is in an old row house in St Jean that was built in 1720. I have my own room and the thermostat is set to 60 degrees. Tomorrow, I am getting started early so that I can get over the Pyrenees Mountains. The average time to walk it is about eight hours. I plan to stay in Roncesvalles. I expect to be pretty tired.