The streets ran with wax

In Pamplona they take the Good Friday procession very seriously. I remember about twenty years ago a dear friend of ours, Madeleine, would take a big cross and stand on the motorway bridge near Souldern waving to motorists on Good Friday. It was sweet, harmless and of course a breach of some “elf’n’safety” rules so it had to stop. A driver might be distracted while driving along the motorway. Distracted that is from chatting on the mobile phone, turning round to shout at the kids, reading an urgent text message or looking for that favourite track on a MP3 player. No such concerns here in Spain. I took up position about half an hour before kick-off and already there was a bit of a crush developing to see the stations of the cross paraded past us. No safety barriers in place, just a line of people in purple hoods with three foot candles pouring wax underfoot. The floats came over the course of about an hour. They were wonderful.

Of course, these floats weigh a bit – a young American couple I was standing next to reckoned they are upwards of 1500kg. So these teams of penitents walked slowly down the street, tramping over the wax poured there by the last group. What could possibly go wrong? Mind you, this is the city where every July they release some very angry bulls into crowded streets so I reckon Pamplona is not a good place to pursue a career in public safety.

On the way back, I decided to swing by the Post office to see what time it is opening tomorrow. I’ve bought some lighter stuff and will post the rest to Santiago or to home.

Sadly the post office isn’t opening after all tomorrow so I will now be carrying both my old to-be-posted kit plus my new lightweight stuff. Poor result really as tomorrow is the longest walk yet.

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