September 27
We have the afternoon to ourselves before the nurse escort arrives this evening for our scheduled meeting with her. We decide to take the bus downtown for a couple of errands.
From the bus, we spot the main bus station, from which we'll leave on Saturday. No need to stop at it; we just note where it is. On the bus, an older woman seated next to where Jerri is standing listens to us speaking in English and asks where we're from. When she hears that we are from the US, she tells us, in fairly good English, that she has a niece and nephew in Detroit. What a small world! Once off the bus, we start walking to our first destination: an international bank. This is an example of some of the gorgeous churches we've seen in Spain.
Then we pass an architectural firm, worth a picture to show David.
In the Tourist Information office (which we were never able to find the day we were walking the Camino through Pamplona--probably because it is actually a few blocks off the Camino, which, when you're on the trail, may as well be another world), Jerri gets a bus schedule, a map of Estella, and verbal information that I don't hear because I go off to look at the exhibits. Here is a lovely aerial view of Roncesvalles.
The tourist office is a modern building, inviting, and has tons of info for Pamplona, other regions, and the Camino. One offering is a little “rule book" for the Camino, translated into several languages. (Note in the background of this photo, the bottle of Aquarius. Bottled by the Coca-Cola company, it is Spain's equivalent of Gatorade and comes in orange and lemon flavors. I discovered it back in a tiny village grocery store.)
While we are in the Tourist office, several pilgrims visit. Although I look forward to resuming the Camino, I am surprised how removed I feel from them. I am embarrassed--don't want them to know and wonder why we look so fresh and clean, without backpacks--and at the same time dying to tell them we really are fellow pilgrims, not posers. Across the street, the international bank cannot help us. Among the euros Jerri received before we left was a 500 euro note. To date, no one will accept or change it for her. She had hoped a larger, international bank would either change it or add it to her cash card. They can do neither. The teller explains that, because of the economic crisis here, the government is tracking notes of 500 euros or higher. So no one wants to deal with them. Jerri suspects she will return home with that note still in her wallet.
An interesting doorknocker on the entrance to a therapist's office, although we can't figure out how it works. Numerous jokes come to mind, such as: the therapist watches the patient through CCTV to observe problem-solving skills; the therapist hopes the patient will give up and go away.
Apparently, the noise popcorn makes in Spain is “bop"!
This store, El Corte Inglés, would be like Macy's in the US. I'm sorry, David, if you approve of its architecture, but I think it's one of the ugliest buildings I've ever seen. Beth says it looks like it's covered in air vent covers.
However, the toy department has an amusing Mrs. Potato Head “Carmen Miranda" accessory set...
...and the first rubber ducks we've encountered in Spain. Unfortunately, they are sold in packages of four: three the size I'm looking for, and one huge mother duck--way more than I care to carry around Spain for three weeks. So Pico's search for a companion continues.
We have the afternoon to ourselves before the nurse escort arrives this evening for our scheduled meeting with her. We decide to take the bus downtown for a couple of errands.
From the bus, we spot the main bus station, from which we'll leave on Saturday. No need to stop at it; we just note where it is. On the bus, an older woman seated next to where Jerri is standing listens to us speaking in English and asks where we're from. When she hears that we are from the US, she tells us, in fairly good English, that she has a niece and nephew in Detroit. What a small world! Once off the bus, we start walking to our first destination: an international bank. This is an example of some of the gorgeous churches we've seen in Spain.
Then we pass an architectural firm, worth a picture to show David.
In the Tourist Information office (which we were never able to find the day we were walking the Camino through Pamplona--probably because it is actually a few blocks off the Camino, which, when you're on the trail, may as well be another world), Jerri gets a bus schedule, a map of Estella, and verbal information that I don't hear because I go off to look at the exhibits. Here is a lovely aerial view of Roncesvalles.
The tourist office is a modern building, inviting, and has tons of info for Pamplona, other regions, and the Camino. One offering is a little “rule book" for the Camino, translated into several languages. (Note in the background of this photo, the bottle of Aquarius. Bottled by the Coca-Cola company, it is Spain's equivalent of Gatorade and comes in orange and lemon flavors. I discovered it back in a tiny village grocery store.)
While we are in the Tourist office, several pilgrims visit. Although I look forward to resuming the Camino, I am surprised how removed I feel from them. I am embarrassed--don't want them to know and wonder why we look so fresh and clean, without backpacks--and at the same time dying to tell them we really are fellow pilgrims, not posers. Across the street, the international bank cannot help us. Among the euros Jerri received before we left was a 500 euro note. To date, no one will accept or change it for her. She had hoped a larger, international bank would either change it or add it to her cash card. They can do neither. The teller explains that, because of the economic crisis here, the government is tracking notes of 500 euros or higher. So no one wants to deal with them. Jerri suspects she will return home with that note still in her wallet.
An interesting doorknocker on the entrance to a therapist's office, although we can't figure out how it works. Numerous jokes come to mind, such as: the therapist watches the patient through CCTV to observe problem-solving skills; the therapist hopes the patient will give up and go away.
Apparently, the noise popcorn makes in Spain is “bop"!
This store, El Corte Inglés, would be like Macy's in the US. I'm sorry, David, if you approve of its architecture, but I think it's one of the ugliest buildings I've ever seen. Beth says it looks like it's covered in air vent covers.
However, the toy department has an amusing Mrs. Potato Head “Carmen Miranda" accessory set...
...and the first rubber ducks we've encountered in Spain. Unfortunately, they are sold in packages of four: three the size I'm looking for, and one huge mother duck--way more than I care to carry around Spain for three weeks. So Pico's search for a companion continues.
I see...so you're not a "mother ducker."
ReplyDeleteDad, you beat me to the joke!!
ReplyDelete