Awoke in the early hours with severe pain in right knee. I can’t move in any way that alleviates it.
I let Marko know. It turns out they are staying so I hobble downstairs and pay another night.
While there I chat with Canadian retirees Max and Marie-Lynne about life on the Camino. They are taking it easy with no set plans. Max offers me Voltarin which I accept.
A cup of tea later and I retire to spend the day in bed. The boys are out and don’t return till 4 by which time I have showered and changed.
I think I might have gout so I head down to the pharmacy with Marko while Norbet does some shopping.
The pharmacist sends me over the road to the doctor. I send Marko to catch up with Norbert and manage to negotiate the Spanish health system complete with x-rays and full consultation.
The doctor and radiographer couldn’t be nicer and it was all free, which I was not expecting.
The advice is no anti-inflamatories just effervescent paracetamol every eight hours and take it easy. Turns out I’m an old man with the very popular degenerative osteoarthritis and I should lose some weight.
I wander off to catch up with my German friends but end up dining alone at Palace Estrella. Marko is fascinated by Korean girls and he is out there somewhere in his new hiking shirt armed with a little Jonesian Korean.
The meal tonight which I proudly order in my best Spanish is Navarran asparagus followed by veal stew and chips then vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce all downed with Ma. Bardenas, a whole bottle of red wine. My knee is feeling better already.
I finish, pay the bill and leave a tip which appears to be much appreciated.
It’s a long shuffle through the damp but vibrant streets of Pamplona to the hostel. I’m a bit tipsy but doing Ok. I even find an ATM to dispense much needed Euro.
On return I find three celtic ladies bustling dinner in the kitchen. And right behind me come the Allemangians seemingly empty-handed as I thought they planned a clubbing night.
I make a cup of tea and read Spanish Woman’s day. The language hardly makes any difference.
The end of a strange day. Another rest day tomorrow being Domingo or Sunday. Mass at 10 am at the Cathedral. I hear from the Celts that you can hire a bike in Burgos to cycle the Meseta. Now there’s a plan.
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