Pamplo-no! Mishaps in Basque Country!

More 2012 Travels

Pamplona
0 km (0 mi)

¡Buenos dias, everyone!

It is a beautiful thing to walk. Those who are able should treasure every step; those who are unable should still treasure their ability to move or be moved. Growing up in Incheon, George took me on many walks through quiet gardens and bustling streets, past ancient temples and brand new skyscrapers. Walking allows you to move with all your senses. You have time to watch the bees on the flowers, hear both the birds and the motors, smell a hundred breakfasts, feel the ground beneath your feet, and taste whatever you feel like requesting from a sidewalk vendor. In short, if I were ever to find George in a beautiful place, it would have to be walking, and surely no better walking opportunity exists than the 780-kilometer (485-mile) Camino Frances, one of the many routes comprising the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.

The Camino Frances officially begins in St. Jean Pied-de-Port in France and winds across four autonomous regions of Spain to the legendary burial site of St. James! The route takes most people four to six weeks to walk, but I couldn’t find any statistics on beavers. I may be the first! Whenever you’re a first anything, it’s important to prepare. I made a red backpack to hold important supplies (twigs, water, bandages, and such) and did something drastic: I got some shoes!

Shoes are a peregrino’s most important investment, and picking the right ones is essential! My feet were never meant for shoes, but I figured I should listen to those with more experience! I did more research on shoes than I did on the sights of the Camino, but this time, I thought it would be best to discover as I went. That’s one of the most beautiful things about walking! So, having made my preparations, I got ready for the first step.

It is very important, when visiting another country, to know some basic phrases in the local language, such as “¡El avión no ha traido mi mochila!” My flight from Miami to Madrid was delayed, so while I rushed to catch my connection to Pamplona, the entire country of Spain was on siesta and a strike and possibly valium too! Therefore, when I landed in Pamplona, my backpack, containing everything I had meticulously prepared for the Camino (including my camera), did not. Oh no!

The lady at the information booth told me to wait for the next flight, then shut down the booth for the day. When the next flight didn’t bring my backpack either, a nice taxi driver, named Juan González, suggested that I spend the night in Pamplona, rather than wait for someone to bring my backpack across the border to St. Jean. My options were pretty limited, so I agreed, and he drove me to my first albergue: Jesús y Maria. Here, I picked up my credencial, or Pilgrim’s passport, which I will need if my backpack ever shows up! Juan gave me his card, and I thanked him before picking out a bed among hundreds.

I could very easily have gotten discouraged and grumpy about the whole affair of the backpack, but the funny thing about the Camino is that it is chock full of miracles! No sooner had I acquired my credencial than I was adopted into a lovely group of runners taking part in the World Harmony Run. They offered to let me share their dinner if I would chop vegetables. Well, they came to the right beaver for that! I can chop a vegetable faster than the California legislature can chop a state park!

So together, we concocted a wonderful salad, curried lentils and rice, and chocolate-strawberry crêpes! We laughed and joked, and I forgot about all my troubles when one of the teammates picked up his flute! This was the first miracle of the Camino: losing a backpack and gaining a family. If they find my backpack tomorrow, I will go in search of more miracles. If not, maybe this group has space for a wandering beaver. We’ll find out tomorrow!

Buen Camino!