5 am Santi and I have a quick coffee and by quarter to six he’s dropping me off a few kilometres out of Irun. Here I am. Now what? Where do I start from? Where do I get a pilgrims passport? Is there an actual ‘way’ or do I just start heading West? Ok, first stop tourism office to find these thing out.
The tourism office doesn't open until ten, check the watch it’s 7.30. There is a Korean couple ( they have a flags on there back packs). I smile and they look at me like I eat babies and scamper off.
I’m just relaxing, watching the crowds bustle by when a man sits beside me and lights up his pipe. I decide to try out some of the Spanish Santi taught me and start a conversation. The man gives me a confused look and says.
‘ What language do you speak because it’s obviously not Spanish’
So that’s how I meet Ignus. A Belgian pilgrimage junkie of about 40 years of age, he has cycled so many Camino’s he has trouble telling them apart. I learn that there’s a free albergue ( pilgrims hostel) in town where I can get my Pilgrims passport ( to be stamped in villages to prove I did the camino and so I can get into albergue’s). The Albergue doesn’t open until 4pm and I’m disappointed that I won’t start my Camino until the next day. Which turns out to be a good thing as Ignus is one interesting and knowledgeable chap.
We find a cheap café and sit there talking ( well mainly listening on my part) for hours. He has seen so much and is a great story teller. He is a very spiritual person and a lot of what he talks about is a bit out there ( or completely bonkers depending on how you look at things) but it’s interesting conversation none the less. He takes out an atlas and shows me his favourite hikes around the world which I jot down.
After 4 hours of filling the Café with smoke and only buying one coffee the waitresses make it quite clear that we have over stayed our welcome. We go for a walk through the old city of Hondirribia. He makes a great tour guide, every time we pass a building of note he tells a story about the time when it was built, mainly focusing on the misdoings of politicians and the churches. He also points out the yellow arrows I’m to follow for the camino, I had passed plenty already in Irun but mostly you don’t notice them if your not looking out.
My favourite story of the day is about a Flemish king who loved to drink., but he liked to drink in the peoples bars. So he disguised himself as a peasant and was enjoying a few beers, when he over heard a drunk bad mouthing the king. The king asked the drunk if he thought he could do a better job, yes was the drunks response. The king continued to buy the drunk beer until he passed out, then called his chauffeur and had the drunk taken to the palace and placed in the kings bed. The staff were told to treat the man as if he had always been king.
So the drunk awoke, surprised. He was dressed as a king. He sat on the throne during court. He signed documents etc. That night, being the king he ordered a massive feast. The real king played the part of his servant and once again feeding him booze until he passed out. He was then put back into his regular clothes and dropped off at the bar were he first passed out.
Don’t know if it’s true, but either way it’s a funny little story.
We head back to the Albergue and I meet my fellow pilgrims. About a dozen. Mostly a lot older than me and don’t speak English, which I’m quite happy to find, I’m not here to party or socialise. The lights go out at 10 pm but I’m to excited to sleep, I lie awake for what feels like hours, my mind churning and I realise I’m also nervous.
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