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Published: November 27th 2006
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Ezra and Kellie had had a pretty terrible night by the sounds of things. I had no sympathy at all for Ezra. Nobody else had been sick from the previous night's meal, and he was the only one who had eaten these so-called 'blueberries' the day before. Kellie asked the man who ran the refuge if we could stay for 1 more night, but they refused. Ezra was in no state to walk the next 20 klms. So Kellie and Ezra decided to catch a bus to Pampalona, and I decided to keep walking and agreed to meet them in Pampalona in 2 days. I headed off alone into the forest. I was annoyed at Ezra and wanted to leave to let them deal with their own problems, but I felt bad for leaving Kellie behind. Then it started raining. It was as good an excuse as any to turn back. I joined Kellie and Ezra on their bus ride to Pampalona, leaving my new pilgrim friends behind.
The scenery the bus drove through was stunning, and I was frustrated to be sitting inside the bus rather than outside with nature.
We arrived in Pampalona and set off to find the refuge. Trying to navigate in a big city after becoming accostumed to following yellow arrows everywhere was harder than I expected! But we eventually found the refuge, only to discover that it didn't open until 2pm. We decided to get some lunch...which was about the time when Kellie and Ezra realised they had left Ezra's wallet on the bus. She thought he'd picked it up, he thought she'd picked it up. I was even more frustrated at this stage, and decided once again to let them deal with their own problems. I agreed to meet them at the refuge in a few hours. But after an hour, once again, I caved. I went back to the bus station to find Kellie and Ezra waiting. They'd tried talking to people from the bus companies, but nobody spoke English, so they'd decided just to wait for the bus to return. Ezra's wallet contained 200 euros that I had loaned them just that morning, as well as all his ID etc., so it was pretty crucial that he got it back. I didn't like their chances of finding the original bus that we'd caught, so I decided to give it a go. I walked around to all of the ticket offices, and sure enough, nobody spoke English. This was frustrating. So I started approaching random people at the bus station - "Do you speak English?" "No." "No." "No." "No." Dammit! I wasn't going to give in though, and eventually one girl replied "yes, a little." I was relieved! I explained my situation to her but she had trouble understanding. I used hand gestures, pointing to her wallet...she thought I was trying to buy a ticket. Aaargh! After a while I thanked her and decided to keep trying. Then I saw him - a man wearing a t-shirt with New York on it! Haha if that wasn't a sign I don't know what was! "Do you speak English?" I asked desperately. "Yes." Excellent!!!! I explained my situation to him. He explained it to the amused ticket salesman. They spoke in Spanish, he took me to lost property. Nothing. We returned to the ticket salesman, who called the bus driver of our bus. The wallet was still there! We just had to wait for the bus to return and it would be returned to us! Yay! I was very greatful to the man in the new York t-shirt. So Kellie, Ezra and I waited for maybe another hour outside the ticket office, until a lady came up and gave us the wallet. All the cash was still inside! I couldn't help but wonder if that would have been the case if it had been a Dublin bus, or even an Australian bus. Either way, we had the wallet and it was time to check into the refuge.
Pampalona was a beautiful town. Ezra slept while Kellie and I went out for Paella and Cerveza (rice and beer). It was good to spend time alone with Kellie, although under unfortunate circumstances. I felt like since she'd been in Europe she'd been spending all her time with Ezra. I hadn't had a chance to properly chat to her in a while and I missed her. We headed back to the refuge just before it closed, and continued drinking sangria (alcohol is so cheap in this country!) in the common room. We were chatting with some Spanish, German, Brazillian and Austrian pilgrims and having a great time. I met a crazy Irish boy who seemed like good fun, but before we knew it we were being told off by the manager of the refuge for being too noisy, and sent to bed. One thing I hated about these refuges was the curfews! They were usually 10pm lights out OR ELSE, and the next morning at 8am we were kicked out! And anybody who knows me knows I am not a morning person!!!
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