Downhill jaunt from Roncesvalles to Pamplona today, which is refreshing after the death march across los Pireneos yesterday. We awaken at the sprightly hour of 0545, our newly reddened hair bristling with antici
pation as we set off on our first full day of biking in Spain. Despite the early rise, the camp is abuzz with activity; it seems many pilgrims get up as early as possible to get in a solid morning's hike before the midday heat. A trio of bicyclists ask us if we're following the camino - we say yes, not quite understanding their question; it turns out that, being equipped with mountain bikes, they are taking the hiking trail! We try this trail ourselves for an hour before deciding that it is permissible to preserve sanity and take the nearby roads. After all, these roads are marked as part of the Camino de Santiago as well, and are intended for use by cyclists; the hiking trails are decidedly off-road, and are therefore not conducive to travel by fully-loaded road bike. Despite our decision to take the road and a 15 minute headstart on the other cyclists, they promptly catch up to us...we're still learning, I suppose.
We ride in astonishment as most of our 1200 m vertical climb is undone over half an hour. At the bottom, we stop briefly to take tea in a small café-albergue down one of the side streets in some town. The walls inside are covered with pilgrimage paraphernalia of every description - books, shells, pictures, and the like - and the tables outside have a number of heavy packs beside them. (As we would find upon asking, many skip the mountain crossing and start their pilgrimage in Roncesvalles, so that most pilgrims still look relatively fresh and well-rested by this point.) As we set out along the road towards Pamplona, a number of drivers honk at us. After our experiences in France, we instantly assume the worst - but no! No, these drivers wave and shout "Buen camino!" out their windows and cheer us on, rather than treating us as second-class beings for daring to cycle on their roads. There is a spirit of camaraderie along the Camino, one that can only come from shared suffering.
Ah, but the jaunt is not exactly downhill; as we find out, mountains have foothills too - and those must also be navigated. There are a couple of nasty hills in our way. Setting our bikes to lowest gear, we trodge up the curving slopes with a depressing lack of velocity...and yet it is somehow worth it, for every hill climbed provides another panoramic view to delight in. The trip has taken a definite turning point; already we feel so far from France and everything that came before it, already so distant from the land of rude drivers and snooty café-restaurant owners - and even more so from the Northern hospitality we had enjoyed just a month ago.
Yet the Camino has just started, and we are resolved to follow it through to its end. Sin dolor, no hay gloria.