Camino de Santiago

Run Bull Run

Bob and I arrived in Pamplona five days before the running of the bulls. We walked to the bullring. It was, in truth, a functioning Roman amphitheater.

We found him in the Iruna

He was leaning on the counter, not tight. One foot rested lightly on the rail. His face was lined; his hair was wavy and full. His face revealed neither surprise nor irritation by our sudden interruption; it was more like, "Oh, there you are. I knew you'd come."

Pompey-city

More than a decade before the hobnailed boots of Pompey the Great scraped the pavers of the Jerusalem Temple,* the Roman commander was out West. On the Iberian Peninsula, he pursued a campaign against the guerrillas of Quintus Sertorius. This pursuit kept Pompey busy for five years, from 76 to 71 BC. In that half-decade, Pompey developed his military chops, demonstrated a reputation for brutality, and earned a Roman triumph. The experience would serve him well.

He played at the piano to keep warm

We arose and followed the forested trail into a tidy town. It was known as Burguete, or Auritz in the Basque tongue. The sun was also rising. Most everyone else was slumbering though, save a small cat that offered Bob and me a generous welcome. This self-appointed mayor circled, arched, and rubbed in as cats often do when the air is full of breakfast.

He blowd his brains out his ears

He blowd his brains out his ears

The descent into Spain is rugged. The bright pastures of the sommets des pyrénées slip downslope, gradually at first, then furiously, precipitously, until they tumble into dense beech forests. Bob and I do the same. Spattered by mud, decorated with leaves, and swathed in shadow, we appreciate the epic Song of Roland.

The James Gang

The James Gang

Scholars have gone bald in the effort to identify the James Gang in the pages of the New Testament. Since I am losing hairs for other reasons, I'll let others tease out the details. Our focus is to identify the three "biggies."

A chain of whispered stories

A chain of whispered stories

The Pyrénées do not look imposing on a map. But don’t be fooled. This mountain chain between France and Spain is ancient, steep, and full of whispered stories.

Transitions

Transitions

Bob and I pulled on our packs and stepped to the asphalt below. We were too giddy to realize the scope of the trade. By means of that step we exchanged a futuristic mode of transport for the most primal form of all: our own feet.

First touch

First touch

The Tower of Saint James in Paris, France, is impressive. Its architecture is pure gothic in style, with all the ribs and nubbins favored by pigeons. It rises 203 feet from the base to the noggin of Saint James who teeters on top. This tower was our first touch with the Camino de Santiago.