A Night in Zubiri

Paco the taxi driver roars off in a cloud of smoke after dropping us off at our respective places. Ingeborg, Rita, and I agree to meet for dinner at 8:00 at a cafe/restaurant around the corner that has a sign outside for a menu. It's currently about 6pm, so I go into my alburge, pay for the night, get my credential stamped, and get a tour from the host. The place has a coded lock on the door, and she gives me a TEEEENY piece of paper with the code on it. Knowing that I will lose that piece of paper immediately, I write the code down on the front of my credential, which I will NOT lose. Thus, I am safe from being locked out. Directly as you walk into the main room, to the left in a tiny little cubby, is a computer with Internet access. I ask what the charge is, and she says none. Very nice! I'll email later. The rest of the room is a combination of kitchen, eating area, and laundry room. Yes, there's a washer/dryer, but for me, it's too late in the day to wash much, because nothing will get dry. I'll just do my usual washing out in the shower and hang things up to dry around the room. I follow my host to the sleeping room. It is long and VERY narrow, with 4 sets of bunk beds. Well, 8 people is not so bad. Of course, I am the last person, and so I have the far right top bunk. But, it's by the window at the end of the room, which opens out onto a clothesline where everyone else has hung their laundry. One thing about being a pilgrim is that you immediately begin to see everything in a room as a potential place to hang wet clothes to dry! I lean out and see it's one of those lines on pulleys, so you can pull the line to where there is an empty space to hang your clothes. There are actually 3 or 4 lines, so I will have a space to put my things after my shower. But first, I have to get on the bed. Again, the tiny ladders are so narrow that I can hardly get my feet in them, and I always have to wear my sandals because the skinny little rungs are killer on the bottoms of my feet. However, after testing the sturdiness of the bed, I manage to get up without too much fuss. I begin the usual pack-rummaging to get my shower things, and as I'm trying to get arranged, 2 young Spanish men come in, talking. They are in the bunk across from me, and look to be in their early 20's. They say hello and ask where I'm from. When I say the US, they look surprised and a bit impressed. In my time on the Camino, Americans are definitely in the minority. I speak a little Spanish to them, but then they ask if they can switch to English so they can practice. Their English is quite good. They are very polite, articulate and funny. I try to think of the 20-somethings I know back in the states (admittedly not very many), but I don't think they could keep up with these guys. Eventually, they are off for their evening, and I say that I'm going to have the great adventure of getting off the top bunk to get a shower. The young man in the bottom bunk across offers it to me. I ask him if he's sure--he says absolutely, no problem. They had not even begun to do any unpacking, other than to lay out his sleeping bag on the bed to claim the space. He tells me just to move his stuff over to the top, and the bottom is mine. I thank him profusely, and he and his friend head out.

In this place, the bathroom area is between where I came in and the sleeping area. That is, you come off the street, there's the kitchen/laundry/eating area, then to the left is another eating area with a table and benches, and just beyond that is a door. Through that door is the bathroom area. The shower and toilet (1 toliet for 8 people) are in separate little rooms, and the sink/mirror is in the opposite corner. Just to the left of the sink area is the door that goes into the bunk-room. However, all is done in modern, obviously new and clean tiling, the lights are bright, and there is even a little fold up bench in the shower room to put your things on!! As far as the Camino goes, that is luxury. The water is hot, and shortly, I am clean, and my undies and my walking shirt is about as washed and wrung out as I can get it. Dressed in my "better" clothes, I hang up my things on the line outside the room, then decide to walk around a little bit and see what Zubiri is like.

As with most of the places I go through on the Camino, Zubiri is small. On our way into town with Paco, we passed the public alburgue, which looked like a converted high school. Another one of those places with 100 or so people in one big room. I'm very happy with my tiny little place, and have no wish to change. There's probably still only 1 bathroom for those 100 people! Leaving my albugue (making sure I have the code), I walk up past the restaurant where we will meet later, and up the road a bit. Very soon, the town peters out into fields, and so I make a left to go around the block. There are construction cranes everywhere. I guess Spain is becoming a very popular place to move to. I come to a narrow street off to the left and head down it. There, I see an alimentacion that's open. The stores here are tiny--barely room for maybe 5 people milling about. I go in to look, and also to pick up some "nibblies". Chocolate, for sure, and find some almonds which are always good. There's a lot of conversation going on, kids in with their parents, deliveries coming in (even though it's around 7pm by then), lots of bustle. I get up to pay for my things, and when the guy gives me my price, I hand him a bill, then look for the exact change. Since I'm not intimately familiar with Euro coins, I have to look at them to make sure I've got the right ones, and at my age, this means pulling down my glasses and doing that gazing over the rims kind of thing. The proprietor of the store laughs and says he always has to do the same thing, now that he's reached a certain age. We have a chuckle about that. Getting older and sore feet. Two subjects about which you can have a conversation in any language, in any country, and be immediately understood! Thus fortified with nourishment for times between cafes, I move on. As I come to the end of the street, I see that I am almost back to my alburgue, just a little bit further up. To my right is an old, curved bridge over the Rio Arga. I walk to the top of the curve and watch the river for a bit. Down and over to my right I see some beautiful vegetable and flower gardens. I am still always moved by how beautiful the kitchen gardens are here, and at the contrast between what I see growing in these gardens and the fairly low quality of produce in the little stores. Perhaps most everyone "grows their own" and so they don't have to buy much produce. The sky is overcast, and it's getting cooler. I check my watch, and head back to the alburgue, passing a bunch of kids who are hollering and setting off firecrackers in the street. I hope they'll be done with this by bedtime! I take my purchases back to my bunk and store them away, then go back towards the restaurant. I don't remember if we said we would meet in the street between our places, or actually in the cafe, so I peer in through the door. Sure enough, there is Ingeborg. She looks up and waves wildly, then gets up and practically runs to the door as I come in. "Guess who is here?" she asks...the ladies from Orisson! And sure enough, there at the table are Trish, Gail, and Barbara from Dublin!! Oh my goodness, it is wonderful to see them!! It's like a big family reunion, squeals and hugs all 'round. Someone pours me a glass of red wine, and I'm told we have a sitting for dinner at 8:30. Along with us at the table are Guislan from Belgium and Corrina from Mexico. I had seen Corrina earlier when I was sending some e-mail at the alburgue. They are a very intersting couple. Married, they spend 6 months in Belgium and 6 months in Mexico. Nice work if you can get it! When Guislan smiles, he looks so much like my late uncle Jim that it's hard for me not to stare. Physically, he's not a thing like him, but the smile transforms his face. In no time, we are all chatting and laughing and sharing our Camino stories. Then, suddenly, I feel a big hug from behind. When I look around, there is the young German girl I saw when I was taking a break from walking backwards to Orisson!! I thought I would never see her again, and I hug her back, so happy to see her! I find out her name is Doro (short for Dorota), and she is from Berlin. I introduce her to Ingeborg and Rita, and they are off in German. Doro has eaten, and she is going back to the public alburge, which she describes as not terribly wonderful. We hug again, and say that we know we will see each other eventually. What a wonderful evening this has been.

Soon, we are seated at our table, and the wine and conversation flows. Apparently, Ingeborg and Rita have actually landed up in an apartment with Trish, Gail, and Barbara, complete with their own bathroom and amenities! Trish, who seems to be the trip planner, says that they hope to do 33 KM tomorrow! Yikes, that's 20 miles! And I'm thinking 20 KM (12 miles) is doing well! I remind myself that they are sending their luggage ahead, and only carrying daypacks and water, but still! I wish them well, and realize it is nearly 10pm! Since there's a combination lock on the alburgue, I don't think I'll be locked out, but I want to at least try to sleep. We are all reluctant to say goodbye, knowing that we may not meet again, but soon, we say our farewells and "Buen Caminos!" and I am off to my narrow little bed. I try to be quiet as I go in, as the room is already dark. I am kind of surpised that I would be the last one in, as I know Spanish folk are late nighters, but there's a first time for everything, right? I get situated in my covers, find my travel pillow and eye shades. I am almost dozing off when the door opens and in come the 2 boys from Barcelona. So, I'm NOT the last one after all! Smiling to myself as they get settled in bed, I actually drift off and sleep for a while. Tomorrow--Trinidad de Arre,