To Pamplona

Setting off today there is a slight rain, enough to need plastic covering for both myself and my backpack. I am asked whether I would like to join a walking group including a young English couple, an Irish woman, a woman from Michigan, Richard from Seattle and Fr. Bart, a robed Dominican priest living most of his life in California and now on sabbatical in Salamanca. Yes, I will walk with them, providing, I ask, that our accompanying priest do something to hold off the water. He promises that, irrespective of the volume of downpour, that it will be holy water. It´s a veritable Canterbury Tales. One of the group has suggested the title for a murder mystery could be "Murder on the Camino." Yes, it's a good title but, please humour me, it wasn´t the priest who did it. That would be too corny.

Today is mostly on the flat and the thunderstorms do not materialise. There is a medium light rain all the way into Pamplona. It´s deliciously refreshing. I am staying again at the municipal Refugio which was once a seminary. Our group decides to celebrate our arrival in Pamplona with a few beers followed by dinner. I still find time to apply my stretches and am feeling increasingly stronger. Some of the others are not in such good condition so I am able to help them with a few applied shiatsu therapy techniques.

The priest goes into churches en route and I use my own expertise to help others in their journey. Busmen´s holiday for both of us, but that´s alright.

Poncho covering me and backpack......not me and chocolate croissants

Fr. Bart