Monday, August 15, 2005

A little over a week into our trip, I was nearly used to sleeping on the ground with only a thin roll mat and sleeping bag, my balled up sweatshirt for a pillow. Terrified of having my passport and money stolen, I wore a money belt safety pinned to the inside of my jeans or skirts during the day, and slept with it pinned to the inside of my sleeping bag at night. Although this was slightly uncomfortable and made for some tricky maneuvers to pay for anything, the alternative was not something I wanted to think about. I’d already had that experience the first year I spent in England, and didn’t need a repeat in another European country. Paranoid? Yes. But did I return to England with passport and money intact? Yes.

Hondarribia, Spain

We woke early on our final day in Hondarribia. One thing about sleeping in a tent – once the sun is up and shining on it, it’s way too hot to sleep. So James and I were getting in a lot of early mornings. Relaxation called to us that day. We packed up our gigundo backpacks, rolled up the sleeping mats, and took down the tent. After checking out of the campsite we made our way into town to spend our day on the seafront.

Basking in the Sunshine

James fished from the rocks jutting out into the water. He had a small cork paddle with fishing line wrapped around it that he’d taken on a trip with his best friend years ago. I sat on the rocks reading and wandered on the sand collecting green sea glass. Although “sea glass” sounds romantic, it’s really nothing more than old, broken beer bottles that have been tumbled around in the ocean with the sand. No more than someone’s old garbage.

Sea Glass

We went to the shop on the corner for our lunch of fruit, bread and chorizo. We even found a small bottle of wine to enjoy while basking in the Spanish sunshine. As we ate our food along the seafront, we watched the feral cats. They lounged on the grass, in trees, on the rocks, under the rocks. There was a black and white cat with two kittens hiding under the rocks. We felt sorry for her and cut up small pieces of our chorizo for the little family.

Family of Feral Cats

Later that day, James and I gathered up our things and caught the bus to Irun. We were taking the overnight train to Barcelona via Pamplona and Zaragoza. Our seats were two of six in a car, and they pulled down and out to extend into small, relatively comfortable sleepers. It was absolutely freezing. I had pulled on my numerous layers to little effect. I sat shivering next to James, wishing I’d brought a blanket. Noticing my discomfort, one of our companions leaned over and said that Spanish trains were always freezing. He told us he was an actor at a theme park in Zaragoza and was returning for his fourth season. He left in the night while we slept.