Camino Chronicle: Walking to Santiago
From Chapter 2: On Foot in the Pyrenees
by Susan Alcorn
The ride from Pamplona to Roncesvalles was beautiful. The road became increasingly curvy as it wound its way through many hamlets on our climb into the Pyrenees. The houses were well cared for two storied, with their plaster exteriors freshly painted white. Their curved red tile roofs, crisply painted flower boxes, and pots filled with red geraniums were picture-book perfect.
We arrived in the tiny hamlet of Roncesvalles after our long day - five p.m. The bus stopped near the dark Gothic church that has welcomed pilgrims since the twelfth century. We knew there was a refuge in the monastery of the church.
Everyone began scrambling out of buses and getting in a long line. For what, we had no idea. We followed the crowd. No one was speaking English; we had to piece together overheard bits of conversations. It turned out that the line was to get a credential - the folding paper document that we were to carry with us to indicate that we're pilgrims on the walk to Santiago. Though we knew we were in the correct line to obtain the credential, I was still anxious we had no idea whether or not we had a place to stay that night.
We waited outside the dark-colored, closed doors of a large room. We watched as groups of about sixteen at a time were invited in. When we were admitted, we filed in, took a seat at a long table, which had forms in place and pens fastened with cords to the table. The woman in charge rattled off instructions first in Spanish, but then in English when we asked. "Bed by ten p.m., out by eight a.m., order dinner ahead of time to eat dinner at the nearby restaurant at eight-thirty," she sternly announced.
After everyone in line was registered, the real chaos began. The woman took everyone into the refuge in an adjoining building. Dark, old, flights of stairs, numerous rooms. As she was giving directions, people started grabbing thick mats from a stack to sleep on the first room filled quickly. Directions continued, other rooms filled up.
(Even now, years later, I remember the knot in my stomach, the struggle to hold back tears). "I grab a mat and try to find a place to put it on the floor heads shake, 'no room, full'. I can't even find a place to put a mat! Finally, a couple of women realize that we don't have a clue to what's going on, take pity, move things around, and offer me a place. I don't know what is happening with Ralph, if they will make room for him, or what. I sink to the mat, hold back the tears that would be embarrassing to release. Then just as I think I might survive the night, a woman comes to get us and indicates that we are to follow her. Where are we going now? I wonder.
We go up two flights of winding stairs. We end up with two upper bunks on adjoining bunks. The guy in my lower bunk drags a bench over for me so I can get up and down more easily. I climb up. I ponder silently how old I was when I last slept in a bunk bed. I dismiss my initial fear that I'm going to fall out of this skinny bunk during the middle of the night." (At the time, we estimated there were a couple of hundred people in the refugio, but we've since read that the capacity is seventy).
With that traumatizing introduction to Spanish communal living, and because the monastery is set in a small valley and by late afternoon was fairly dark and dreary, we were a little apprehensive about how things were going to go. However, we set out to explore the town; besides the refugio, church, the restaurant (which also had rooms for rent), and a shop that sold some nice cheeses, wine, breads, and souvenirs, there was little else. We bought some olive bread for later.
Dinner was very good. It was served at two seatings, with us at the eight-thirty one. For $1000 pesetas (about $6) we had a thick broth with pasta that was warm and filling followed by fresh trout, wine, bread, and ice cream - having a little food and wine helped our spirits. Then to bed. I took a sleeping pill and slept well.
Over the next few days, we learned a lot more about how refugios worked and where we would find food along the way.