My fourth day of walking would take me into Pamplona and I was looking forward to it.  I was more confident after the previous day and was starting to develop a rhythm.  The trick is to start walking early to ensure that you get to the next destination no later than 2:30 p.m. without feeling in a rush.  This minimizes the time walking in the hottest sun, while getting in in time for the Spanish midday meal.  

The terrain today would be similar to yesterday.   The walk would take me on relatively flat, dirt paths along the Arga riverbank, although the last part into Pamplona through its suburbs, would be heavily paved.  Asphalt is not your friend on the Camino.

On this day, I ran into a young woman in her thirties from Bavaria, walking alone, and despite her young age, not moving as fast as others.  We walked and talked for a bit.  She told me the story of having difficulty getting a bed in one of the albergues in Zubiri, and about how she was planning to stay in Arre, right before Pamplona, in a refugio run by some nuns.  She was Catholic and planning to walk the whole way to Compostela.

About half-way to Pamplona, I made a choice that exemplified the mental progress I had made from my first two days.  I chose to walk more. I took a detour in Zabaldika to visit the Iglesia de San Estaban, a beautiful little church high up in the hills managed by the RSCJ (Society of the Sacred Heart) nuns.  Sadly, I had just missed Mass!   The sister in charge spoke good English and talked to me about their order’s work there and in the States, mainly in education.  She gave me a copy of the Camino prayer, and then let me use the bathroom in their residence.  No fellow pilgrims there, but a family had stopped just to picnic.  I used the time to air out my feet, about a half-hour stop, and then went on my way.

Political passions run high in Basque Country…

…and calls for secession remain strong.

About a mile later, I found my Bavarian friend, and we walked together to the refugio in Arre, where she was staying.   I proceeded alone through Villava, a suburb of Pamplona.   It was like walking through Arlington, VA, on the way to D.C.  Inasmuch as I felt I had left the Camino — I was standing on a street corner waiting for the light to change! — I looked for a taxi that would just fast-forward me to the hotel but none were around.  I then tried to call an Uber.  Why not?   But after logging in to the app, I learned that Uber had not yet come to Pamplona.   Eventually, I just did the whole slog into the city, walking I felt that was wasted and unnecessary, but without recourse.

Pamplona!

The “old city” of Pamplona, within the walls, was alive though, and it felt great to be there.  I also knew that, per plan, I had treated myself to a high-end hotel, and I wasn’t disappointed.   I was late for la comida.   It was almost 3:15 by the time I got to my room.  But I managed to put all my laundry in for service, and they agreed to serve me in the bar area with an elegant lunch, beer, wine, fish, salad, desert.

Later I showered, napped for an hour, but then dressed, knowing there was a Mass at the Cathedral at 8:00 p.m.  I first found the Hemingway statue at the Plaza de al Torres, and took a selfie to send to a friend who is a Hemingway enthusiast.  The large square, Plaza Del Castillo, was alive with people.  All of this perked me up.

This Basque Men’s Choir held me spellbound with their chanting

The Cathedral at Pamplona is one of Europe’s most beautiful.

I then found my way to the Cathedral.  At 7:30, they had a rosary service, with singing and marching around the church with banners.  A choir of Basque men gave forth with soulful chanting.  This was the Catholicism with which I had grown up, and whatever else might be said about it, the visible expression of simple faith was inspiring.

After Mass, I realized that I had left my hat on one of the benches when I first came in, and it wasn’t there when I looked again.  I asked one of the officials, and right away they retrieved it from the office, just as they were closing up.  Whew!

It was close to 9:00 p.m., still light out, and the old city was just starting to wake up and buzz with energy.   But I had had a long day, and could think of nothing except getting back to enjoy that comfortable hotel room and bed.   I congratulated myself on having the foresight to reserve upgraded accommodations in the bigger cities, in Pamplona, Logrono, Burgos, Leon, etc..   They would really help my mood, and enable me, who admittedly is still pretty used to luxury and comfort, to survive better as a pilgrim.