From Hills to A Walled City
A misty rain and low gray clouds accompanied us as we grabbed breakfast at the café from the previous night. We crossed the bridge that had brought us into town and headed toward the hills, the damp chill in the air a quiet reminder of the Camino's unpredictability. For a brief stretch, industrial sites broke the green landscape, but soon we traded paved roads for gravel paths, leaving the town shrinking behind us into a multicolored dot on a hillside.
Nature quickly enveloped us as we left the gravel road for a narrow stone-paved trail climbing toward the light rain. Poppies lined the path, barbed wire fences marked off pastures, and donkeys stared curiously as we passed. The rushing Arga River appeared on our right just as the sun began to break through the clouds, and we stopped for a brief respite at a café on the outskirts of Zuriáin. The scenery was mesmerizing, each step alternating between rolling hills and tree-lined paths, and each glance back revealing more of the quiet towns behind us.
I soon reached a fork in the trail where the main path led to Pamplona, and a smaller detour climbed to Zabaldica. I chose the detour, finding a 12th-century church, Iglesia de San Esteban, perched at the top. I lit a candle, explored the bell tower, and took photos of the surrounding hills. On the dusty descent, I came across a small snack stand under an old farmhouse where I grabbed an apple and left a donation before continuing along quiet hillside paths, tunnels under highways, and tree-lined roads toward Trinidad de Arre.
Realizing I had lost sight of my Camino companions, I quickened my pace through empty streets and soon found them resting at a small town square café. The final approach to Pamplona took us through some of the busiest and shadiest urban streets I had ever walked, eventually opening up to a small park and the massive stone walls of the walled city. Crossing the drawbridge, we entered a world of color: each building painted in bright shades of pink, blue, green, or yellow, fountains scattered throughout, and young people filling the streets.
We settled into a comfortable albergue, a welcome change after the shock of Zubiri. Nearby, Meson de la Navarreria offered food and drinks, and I took the chance to explore the city. I ran into Tania from Roncesvalles with her Camino friend Alex, and together we walked the ramparts overlooking the city and its outskirts. The church was still dark and quiet, not yet ready for visitors, but the main square buzzed with life. While the hills were beautiful, I was ready for some flat ground. Tomorrow promised a new adventure, with a visit to the monument at Alto de Perdon and the city of Puente la Reina awaiting us.