Alone in Spain
I got to see La Sagrada Familia under reconstruction, but I asked random strangers to take a picture of me there anyway, and maybe 1 more Gaudi building then it was time to go back.
And this was a bit more challenging without my map that I managed to lose somewhere.
Since the time of my bus`s departure was getting freakishly close I got totally out of zen-mode about trusting destiny, I got more and more nervous that I would miss my train and waste a day of my precious 2 weeks of vacation.
That’s all I had left that year, because I already went to Sweden that January.
Normally I don’t travel that much, or should I say at all, like ever, but 2012 was a year of adventures.
So I really tried to force my brain to remember where to turn right or left, but none of the streets looked familiar.
I finally “bumped” into a half-covered garden that looked like a small botanic house and opened from the street between two apartments, so you could not tell at first sight what was there, but I just felt I had to walk in that gateway.
Trusted my feet again.
It was beautiful inside as if I magically got to some Fairy Wonderland, at least that’s how I remember.
Suddenly I forgot about the time, even about my goal, the Camino, everything ceased to exist, only me and this beauty and the present moment seemed to be important.
Then as if a magic spell struck me I got pulled back to reality and I had to leave.
I still did not know where to go, but I was back to trusting the higher forces so I didn’t even care if I start the Camino a day later, what will be will be. I was just happy.
As soon as I got into this state of mind I started to recognize the streets and I found my way back to the bus station in time.
I picked up my bag and quickly visited the bathroom where I met a nice Turkish girl whom I thought to be a pilgrim as well and at that point I really wished for some company.
To my disappointment she wasn’t a pilgrim and wasn’t even going in the same direction so we wished each other a safe journey and I headed out to find my bus.
There was a 2-story bus parking lot at the station.
I climbed up and sat down on an empty seat in the very first row of the second floor, which had the best view.
Then a lady came and told me it was her seat and showed me the number on her ticket.
Well, that was a disappointment, I didn’t pay attention to the numbered seats.
I headed out to find my own. It was downstairs.
I sat by the window and put my heavy bag next to me.
I prayed that no one would sit next to me, I didn’t feel like moving my monstrous baggage nor did I want company at this point.
There were only a couple minutes till departure, but a hippy-looking lady just got off the bus to say goodbye to her beloved, which lasted about half an hour.
The bus driver didn’t say a word, patiently waiting for them to finish.
Why worry, there was only an approximately 5 hour drive ahead of us after all.
Finally, after a long time that seemed like eternity we started to go.
We were already an hour late. I had been praying since the beginning that I didn’t have to go to the bathroom, unfortunately that is an ever-existing problem for me, but I couldn’t do much, I had to surrender to life in this matter too.
Thank God nobody sat next to me, I could just remain close to the window staring at the view outside that had the same effect on me as on a little child: everything was new and interesting for me.
This is how a couple of hours flew by unnoticed, when we finally stopped in a huge parking lot.
Buses everywhere around us and one single building not that far away.
The driver said something in Spanish, the only thing I understood was “half an hour”.
I followed the others off the bus and towards the building where I suspected to find a restroom.
It started to rain, but it only made my little adventure more romantic.
Inside the building there was an unspeakably huge crowd, I barely could make my way through them.
After finding the restroom I was seriously considering following the other people’s example sitting in the restaurant too, but half an hour is not that long a time and I couldn’t risk missing my ride.
Also, I didn’t have a watch.
So I headed back to the bus when I realized not only I don’t know its plate number but I don’t even know what color it was.
Finally I recognized a couple of people waiting around the still locked bus.
Now I was getting a bit nervous about not getting in Pamplona before they close the albergue and in that case a romantic night awaits on a bench under the sky or at the bus station.
I really didn’t want that. Finally, our bus was on its way again.
It was still raining and got dark, so I had absolutely no clue where we could have been.
Suddenly, my phone started ringing.
It was a friend, Beni, who walked the Camino the previous year and encouraged me to do the pilgrimage myself.
In Munay,
Emese
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