August 11th

By the time I woke and had my act together the dorm was three quarters empty and I stumbled out into an empty village square. Thinking everyone had already split I hit the trail at 630 am which still ran alongside the river Arga as I headed toward Pampalona 16 kilometres away. After an hour of walking I had passed two or three solitary walkers and I got the sense that no one was actually in front of me. Walking steady all morning grew frustrating as after several small steep climbs I would lose all my gains in the valleys. The last couple of days had brought the realization that my pack was way too heavy so I had to consider some serious cargo jettisoning. I felt like one of those captains in an old Hollywood movie ordering everything stripable be thrown out. I decided to have a good look at the situation when I got into Pampalona. At Trinidad de Arre I entered a modern incredibly clean urban area where I immediately got mislead by a yellow construction sign instead of the trail marker. I took a break and checked my blood sugar count, reorganized my load for the hundredth neurotic time in two days and retracing my steps asked a local who kindly pointed me towards Pampalona where an hour later I laboured up the citadel path and entered the city. This is Hemingway central with his picture and name everywhere. I hope his heirs have intellectual property on his image. Following the narrow streets I felt a wave of wonder wash over me as I followed the sun deprived streets arriving at the central square where I depacked, had an espresso and bocadillo while considering my next step. I had been told to expect my jet lag to last a day for each hour and I still wasn´t up to snuff. I decided to opt for an hotel room and sort myself out and found a great room in a neat little hostel very film noir with the elevator in a cage in the centre. I left my pack there till check in time and went off wandering to get the lay of the land. I found the streets where the bulls run ending at the El Toro ring. Here again there was a statue of Hemingway with a plaque and  it was gratifying to see Toronto mentioned in the script. The writers first time here was when he actually wrote The Sun Also Rises during time as a correspondent for the Toronto Star in the twenties. Back at the hotel room I washed up, had a siesta and tried to keep hydrating. When the evening came I went out looking for an internet cafe with no luck so I hit a tapas bar had some food and cerveza ´soaked in the atmosphere and headed back to my room to take stock of the backpack situation. I finished my airport copy of the Economist, lost all my souvenirs, ticket stubs and other miscellaneous foodstuffs. I had a copy of Rawi Hages De NIros Game but I was only half way through it and I decided to suffer for literature and try carrying it for another day. I hit the sack watching Spanish TV and organized my thoughts for tomorrow. to be continued....