Mikel and I got up early to go and pick up Martín, a friend he’s arranged to meet to go cycling with, a sport that they’re both very passionate about like the good Navarrans they are. Honouring the saying “Birds of a feather flock together”, I thought Martín was a cheerful, friendly, easy to talk to kind of guy. As they headed off to go crazy in the mountains, I started my walk in Monreal at a steady pace.
Just like yesterday, I didn’t meet very many people on my travels. An old man who was out stretching his legs and that was it really, apart from a group of four Catalans nothing like “Kelly’s Heroes”, who I shared a connection with on the earlier routes. I don’t know, I suppose it’s the same for everyone, but experience makes you develop a sixth sense which makes it clear if you have a connection with the person in front of you or not.
I think I’ll always get off on the wrong foot with an idiot that tells me that he doesn’t believe I’m from Zaragoza because I don’t have the same accent as the great Paco Martínez Soria in the film "La ciudad no es para mi" (The City isn’t for Me). And to top it off, his 60 year old friend arrives and tells me, like a tell-tale in school, that after walking for a week I’m cheating because I left part of the weight of my rucksack at my friend’s house to be a bit lighter on this route. Well they blew it right there. So after politely replying that it doesn’t say anywhere that the pilgrim has to decline hospitality from his friends when they are merely trying to make the Camino more manageable, I wished them a good trip and continued on mine.
Just like the last few days, this route was quite cool and ran through the mountainside of the Sierra de Alaitz and forests. Long walks alone give you a lot to think about. Sometimes I’m accompanied by a musical playlist that I put together for this trip and other times by the noise of the birds and animals who inhabit the forest. Today I saw a green snake which fled at some speed when it felt my presence. I don’t blame it. I wouldn’t like it either if an elephant, to give an example of equivalence, stepped on my big toe.
Yesterday I was thinking about how it all began in the City of London, a time I look back on very fondly when I also made some great friends, such as Mikel. I remember that, for at least a few months, every time I walked out of Bank tube station I couldn’t help having this dopey look on my face and smiling as I found myself right in the middle of the hordes of people in suits looking down like robots as they went to work. I know that deep down I was going through the same thing as good old Paco Martínez Soria. It was customary for the old hands to take the newbies out to the pub and get them plastered on the first Friday. They made no exception with me. I thought the City was a serious place but my BBVA colleagues soon showed me that it was no big deal.
On that first outing, I only drank the pints of beer were handed to me non-stop and discreetly listened to others’ conversations. I saw Álvaro and Javier a few feet away seemingly deep in conversation about something quite serious, so I went over to them with the good intention of soaking up some expert advice from two experienced bankers. As it turns out, I overheard Álvaro, in his strong Bilbao accent, telling Javier: "nooooo, quit messing around; you have to leave the cod to soak overnight”. That was how I learnt that the City really wasn’t a big deal, and perhaps to celebrate it without realising, I left the pub and, with the way my head was spinning after the tenth pint, I couldn’t help it as I left my mark on the gate of the bank.
When I arrived in Tiebas I visited the ruins of the castle and, to get my pilgrim passport stamped, I made my way up to the pilgrim hostel where I was served by a very nice Navarran man with a thick moustache. Mikel and Martin came to pick me up after and we went back down to Zizur. In the evening I said my goodbyes to Mikel, Leyre and their daughter, not even a month old, and thanked them for how well they had treated me…
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