Roncesvalles to zubiri

We left Roncesvalles by the light of the moon yesterday morning, along with a startling number of other pilgrims. For almost the whole day we were not alone. We are starting to give nicknames to a few extremely annoying folks we keep running into. Cowboy is a loud guy from Montana with a big black hat who speaks atrocious Spanish very loudly. He kept shouting at me that the inicio button on the microwave meant fire (it actually means start) and he berated Scott for moving to MT from California (his family has been there 200 years, don't you know). Then there are the lovebirds from Britain - they stop in the middle of the path, blocking our way while they smooch, tickle, and coo at each other.
Mind you, they are about forty. One time is sweet, but the ninth time they held us up at a gate while they kissed is when I started to plan my revenge. Tomorrow Scott and I may have to run ahead of them and do some tongue touching and poopsie-whoopsie-snooky-wooky cuddles. Maybe tolerance is the lesson the camino has for me?

Dew covered meadows rapidly deteriorated into mud bogs throughout the day as scores of pilgrims passed by. Going to the bathroom is proving to be a big challenge as we are never alone on the trail. You have to buy something at the little bars in the villages to use the facilities. Buying four cups of coffee defeats the purpose. There are very few public bathrooms anywhere. It is a bit of a racket, but I don't blame them. But it means once again my dignity goes by the wayside and I have to expose my pale butt as I squat behind a skinny tree. Men have it so much easier.

We've noticed some interesting groupings: a grown Italian daughter and her aging father, a Belgian teenaged grandson with his grandparents, Irish brother and sister, English mother and daughter around the same age as Elizabeth and me, and quite a few retirees and college aged kids. Actually every age group is represented except babies and young kids and we all sleep together packed in rooms and sharing just a few toilets. Humid, smelly, and loud.

We've learned a few things already: gaaaaah! It's sometimes the same price to pay for a nice private room in a pensione rather than pay for two bunks in a room with 20 others! A bottle of excellent dry Rioja wine costs 1 euro while 2 bland beers at a bar cost 10! We don't need a whole bottle of wine though. Pilgrim menus seem like a great deal but 22 euros for the both of us really adds up. I'm looking forward to cooking at the next place we come to. Last thing we are learning is that it is not a race. I need to slow down and savor the journey a little more.

Still typing all this on my tiny phone so forgive the typos. Autocorrect is not always my friend.