Roncesvalles, Spain, February 28
I’m scrunched in my lower bunk, #13 of a 24-bed dorm (this is one of the tiny ones here, some of the dorms have well over 100). By scrunched, I mean that I can’t sit upright because there’s not enough headspace. Were these not built for adults? I’m beginning to think that lower bunks are highly overrated. They’re always the first taken, though in this case, I had mine assigned by the stern lady at the desk who got me checked into this historic facility.
It is an iconic stop. A town with a resident population of about 30 humans, with this enormous, ancient monastery complex (complete with cloisters, chapel, hostel, museum, and more), which has been a place of hospitality for pilgrims of The Way for about 900 years, dating back to 1127. There’s an ancient feeling about the place, for sure, though I’ve been told there were some recent improvements, like the outlets by each bed and a reading light. For these modernizations, I am truly grateful. Only two small dorms are open, since it’s still off-season. And I got lucky; the guy right behind me in line was assigned to the other dorm, the one we all have to walk through to get to to the shared restroom and showers, not to mention that beyond that annoyance of trying to sleep in the thoroughfare, there’s a motion detector light that goes on outside the bathrooms whenever someone gets near, lighting up that whole dorm. Those poor folks who have to attempt to sleep there. I genuinely feel bad for them. The entire bathing situation is a set of 3 showers in a row in a sort of hall, which is capped on one end by a bathroom, the other by a laundry (washer only). The full extent of privacy, then, in this co-ed area, is the shower curtain itself. Of course, it’s Europe: a much less sexualized culture, refreshingly so. (I look up to see someone’s booty a few feet away; people fully change in group dorms without hesitation.)
There are about 40 of us here tonight, I’d guess, and an interesting lot. I met my first few while waiting in the lobby to check in, including a girl from Amsterdam who carries a camera, but not a smartphone, and has 2.5 weeks to complete the trail (needs to average upwards of 25 miles/day). I’m still feeling less than social, which doesn’t bode well for close quarters with a big group, and even less so in this particular facility, where there’s a collective pilgrim dinner and group breakfast at the restaurant nearby. I’m dreading that a tiny bit, but I also want to get over myself and embrace all parts of the journey. I’m waiting for the shower. One of the guys was chivalrous and gave the girls a chance to go first, to keep it a little segregated due to the setup, but I wasn’t part of that first wave, so I offered the guys the next round. I’ll figure it out. It gave me a chance to set up my bed, do some writing, and then I’ll add my clothes to a joint load (and really hope that they dry overnight, though it’s a little cold and damp).
The trek today was a challenging one, and I was grateful to be only doing half the stage (having added last night’s stop with my private room at someone’s home in Valcarlos). The last two miles were pretty significantly strenuous, something like 1300’ of elevation in that last stretch, with grades of 40, 50, and even up to 60% in spots (according to my trail app). And this is the easy one: the lower, winter route cutting through the Pyrenees Mountain Range.
Having that steep and relentless incline at the end of an 8-mile, 3,000’ elevation day required some focus and slowing down to keep my breathing under control, but it was manageable with paying attention to my body and making changes accordingly. (I totally forgot what the guy from REI said about using the load adjusters on my pack for sustained elevation until the end of the climb, and my shoulder was really bothering me when I finally remembered, realizing that I was hauling way too much weight on my shoulders instead of my hips. That’s one way to learn what not to do, I guess.)
But the trail was charming, a few mountain views, some cuts through farmland, sheep grazing on the hills, but much of it was a pretty desolate, wooded valley trail adjacent to a stream. I passed maybe two people today on the road. And no food or potable water along the way. (Thankfully, with the guidebook I have on my phone, I was prepared.)
[Later] I found the neighborhood “bar” (the term for every restaurant), and pulled up to the counter. I was invited to join a table of pilgrims, but I am still not feeling it. I’m attempting to recharge a bit in preparation for a social dinner. Wow, I feel like such an introvert! I really was not expecting the quantity of people on the road in February. I feel as if I’m still recovering from the shock.
Ok, that wasn’t so bad. I was interrupted/joined by a pilgrim from England and had a really lovely conversation. It was a nice ease-in to have a one-on-one with some quality and depth. He’s here because he’s going through a divorce and navigating a lot of transition. (I wonder how many other people are in flux or in big life changes. If so, it might be easier than I think to get past (or entirely skip) the small talk that I find so tedious.) Actually, I kind of lost track of time and was late for mass, but I knew there was to be a pilgrim’s blessing that I didn’t want to miss, so I went anyway. At the end of the service, all the pilgrims were invited to the front and were given a blessing and then a token gift by the priest. It was a special experience. Then off to dinner. We sat at tables of 6-8 and were served our three-course meal. Honestly, it was fun to finally get to know some more folks. I spent some time talking business with a young, second-generation restaurateur from Malta. This is his second time walking this route, so he was also giving a few of us tips on the best places to stay along the way. I took notes. At one point, someone asked the table how many of us were unemployed currently, and it was definitely the majority. Interesting, how something like this attracts people who are in a certain time of life and/or headspace. Everyone seems very thoughtful and has an unusual amount of depth. Or at least it’s depth that’s quite close to the surface/easily accessed. The honesty and genuine conversations are quite refreshing.
I expect I’ll start out with a group tomorrow, which will be a first for me. I’ve been walking solo and loving it, but with a collective breakfast and checkout immediately after, there’s no avoidance option. Hey, maybe I’ll love it! If not, I guess I’ll just have to learn how to orchestrate an exit strategy.
25-ish km down, 790 km [by road] to go.
(Let’s hope the trail is a little shorter/more direct?)
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