I was a civilian. The Hotel Eslava, where I rested for some nights, was near to the Camino’s continuation out of Pamplona. Several times I gestured to pilgrims passing through, said things like ultreia!, bon chemin!, buen camino!. Some of them seemed to understand I was also a pilgrim…or had been. Damn. It’s July as [...]
Archive for the ‘J. INTO SPAIN’ Category
COLLAPSE THOSE TREKKING POLES. IT’S OVER.
Posted in J. INTO SPAIN, Uncategorized, tagged Hemingway, Pamplona on July 11, 2010 | 2 Comments »
IN OLD NAVARRE
Posted in J. INTO SPAIN, Uncategorized, tagged Navarre, Pamplona on July 10, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
It looks different to the French side. Is it a gun-metal colouring in the hills, or the sleeked-down shape of those hills? The different way the snow finds the creases on this side of the Pyrenees? It’s still Basque country, still Navarre. Yet, with that suddenness with which the language changes, everything changes. Spain looks [...]
SANCHO: GREAT FOR PILGRIMS
Posted in J. INTO SPAIN, Uncategorized, tagged Sancho the Great, Zubiri on July 9, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
Walking off into Spain in fine weather, belly awash with cafe con leche, I was exhilarated. Arroyos! Montañas! Pueblos! Just the words! But now I’d been pulled down a level. All through France I was able to talk with anyone. Spanish, however, is a language I’ve read often but seldom spoken. I could only speak [...]
RONCESVALLES. FRIENDS. AND THE OTHER CHARLES.
Posted in J. INTO SPAIN, Uncategorized, tagged Charles Martel, Roncesvalles on July 9, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
When dramatic landscapes are drenched in history, I’m your typical gaping, gibbering tourist. But for an hour or so, after arriving in Roncesvalles, I had some practical problems which grounded me and silenced the gibbering. After being processed as a pilgrim for accommodation at the famed Conventus Hospitalis, I went in search of our lodgings, [...]
OVER THE TOP
Posted in J. INTO SPAIN, Uncategorized, tagged Charlemagne, Pyrenees, Roland, Roncesvaux, Valcarlos on July 8, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
It alarms me that I can slot in more easily with the Irish than with some Australians. It seems to take no time till irony, gossip, and teasing become the quick-set but firm foundations of a friendship. Our first stop on the road toward Spain was a little bar with a mountain torrent under it. [...]
