Little old ladies are the same everywhere

I am now in Cizur Menor, having hopped the bus to Pamplona, then made the rest of the way on foot. While waiting at the bus stop with about 7 other pilgrims (see, I´m not the only one ¨cheating¨ although none of the rest have as good an excuse as "I almost died last year." Anyway, while waiting, two old ladies came up & waited for the bus. In nice dresses, shoes, jewelry, not a hair out of place. Once they saw each other though, they began to crab about the bus always being late. "I call the bus company every day & they tell me that the bus will be here at 5 to 9." "Well, the bus from Roncesvalles is always late." and on & on & on for several minutes, unti they wound down. Just in time for the bus to turn the corner & shock! It´s the little bus, not the big bus, & they started up again.

I was really trying hard not to laugh, but they were pretty funny. Three English pilgrims thought they were talking about them, but I told them "No, they´re just bitching about the bus." We all clambered on the little bus & the ladies settled down. Until we made a stop at a teeny-tiny town & another perfectly dressed lady got on the bus & gave the driver the equivalent of "Where the hell have you been?" in Basque. Which set the original 2 ladies off on their complaints again, this time with a new participant. This time, the 3 English ladies were also doing their best to not laugh.

The bus driver, a very nice lady btw, must have to put up with this daily because all the little old ladies who got on the bus talked to each other as though they were long-time friends. Her response was along the lines of "Yeah yeah, bus is late, we never send the big bus, yadda yadda yadda, do you want to get to Pamplona today or shall we just park it here?"

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Dammit.

As for the municipal albergue in Zubiri: Shades of Camp Lula Sams, with open showers & everything! (thank god there were separate showers for men & women, otherwise I would have just chucked it all in & not taken one at all, even though I looked like Pig Pen from Charlie Brown) I kept expecting Clara Hinojosa to come running in with friendship sticks & telling us we were members of Camp Smas Alul or something. Had a good menu peregrino at the cafeteria in the polideportivo. My first ensalada mixta of the season. Not much else happened there, except the guy above me must have eaten jumping beans for dinner. Everytime he rolled over (which btw was quite often), the bunk bed moved a few feet off the ground.)