Day 25: Leon to Villadangos de Paramo - 20.9K

I was looking back over my blog, searching to see if I have had a bad day on the Camino thus far, but I haven’t. There was some miserable rain for about an hour at the end of one long day with Mi-Suk, but even that day was great overall. 

Today was spent walking out of Leon through some urban sprawl and then along a loud highway on a dusty path that went past several factories. It is definitely the ugliest walk yet, but it passed in a snap because I was fortunate to walk with Chris from Zurich for most of it. It’s amazing how good company can transform ugly surroundings.  I will remember this as another wonderful day.

Somehow, I managed to select a hotel that is alongside a truckstop. This is definitely an unusual situation here, but it is so strange that it makes me laugh. It is nice to have a little peace and quiet in a room, though, and there are no other pilgrims around in this hotel (which seems to be the Spanish version of The Shining) except Julie from Montreal. We had dinner together.

Twenty-five was the year I taught my first college class. I remember that I started on May 17.  It stuck in my head because it is the anniversary of Brown v Board of Education, and it was (and remains) significant to me to try to contribute to providing equitable, educational opportunities to all.

Day 24: Leon - a day of rest

What a wonderful day. I ran into so many people who were walking ahead of me and I was glad because I wasn’t sure I would ever see them again. I spent the morning hanging out with the raucous family of 7, playing and doing laundry at their place. Then I got a massage and later ran into Nina and Chris whom I had not seen since we were talking about being teenagers.  We had scrumptious sushi with Hayley, whom I didn’t think I’d see again at all. The whole day felt like splendid reunions one after the other.   

Mexican Nina and Swiss Chris had lost a bet to me many kilometers ago, and they paid it back by taking me on an embarrassing tourist train around the city.  Brazilian Larissa joined us at the last minute as we took the corny tour, and we waved dutifully from the train while rejoicing that we were simply riding around rather than walking as a way to appreciate the city.

While we were riding around, Irish Cuevan (I simply can’t spell it in Gaelic) yelled out across the plaza in front of the cathedral:  “TWENTY-FOUR!  BREAK UP!”  22 year old Vanessa, who has aged out, wished me a happy 24. British John of the retired RAF, WhatsApped me the story of his first son’s birth.  All day long, people described the hope and heartbreak of their young adult lives.  One man told me that this time was a blur of drugs and alcohol.  A woman told me about working with immigrant African kids in France and providing them with support.  

I continue to be amazed and moved by this age game.  As I walked around the magnificent cathedral, the stories of people’s lives were in my thoughts.  I feel like there is some connection swimming around in my head between pilgrims of past and pilgrims today and life stories and religion. But I can’t quite figure out the connection I want to articulate.  I might need to read The Canterbury Tales.  

For me 24 was a year of group house living, grad school attendance, and unrequited love.  I found myself reflecting  that I  am  grateful that I had support to practice as a peer tutor the things that I was learning in the classroom at GMU.  Also, I remember that Ryan and I had a garden, and a squirrel ate our only tomato.  Bastard.

Day 23: Sahagún to El Burgo Ranero to Leon - 17.8K and 38.1K

 Probably the least pretty walk so far today. Fittingly, it was often in view of the railway system.  Ended up in the dusty town of El Burgo Ranero where I took a (gasp!) train to Leon. I need to skip ahead a couple of days so that I could meet my friend Sarah in Astorga next week. 

Had a fantastic time meeting up with pilgrims who had gotten ahead of me—three very special people. I typically give finger puppets to my favorites while traveling and was able to find some to present!

My 23 was living in the SFH, a bizarre group house with a taxi in the yard. 

Day of rest tomorrow!

Day 22: Calzadilla de la Cuela to Sahagún - 22.8K

 Another long one today. I think that I might have a cold or just some kind of heat exhaustion. I came into the hotel after nine hours of walking and collapsed. The fields were pretty and I stopped many times throughout the day in little cafés in little towns. The Camino seemed almost empty today, which was weird because I left early and usually people overtake me, but I guess they kept walking while I sat and drank cold beverages.  It’s very difficult to find a balance between resting and moving. I don’t like to get here too late, but I don’t want to not stop either.

The yellow Spanish broom was fragrant and gorgeous today.

At 22, I got my first job at NOVA, which obviously became very important to me. Interesting that I applied for the job because Mary L. wrote a letter reaching out to tutors at the W&M writing center and encouraging us to apply. It’s definitely a lesson in how connection can be important. I moved to Arlington and lived in a group house that looked like a Monopoly hotel, which I inhabited with five other women, including my friend Mary who remains important to me.

Today, Vanessa, who is age 22, had her last go at the game. She said that since she turned 22 in early May, she’s been on the Camino and has been learning about how to find solitude as well as community. It’s something I can definitely relate to.

Tomorrow should be an interesting day. I’m taking a train and skipping a couple of stages so that I can get myself to Astorga in a few days to meet friend Sarah there.  Soon there will be a rest day. My body needs that, I think. 

Day 21: Villacalzar del Sirga to Calzadilla de la Cuela - 23.2K

This was my longest day yet, and I thought it was going to be very difficult, but it turned out just to be flat and predictable through fields of wheat, and I walked with some nice people so it went by quickly.  I had steeled myself to listen to some Harry Potter to pass the time, but I didn’t need it at all.

There were lots of answers about what year 21 was like for people.  A few stood out to me. A pilgrim named Vanessa is 22 years old so people were teasing her because it was going to be her last opportunity to participate in the game.  Interestingly, she seemed to sum up a lot of experiences. She said that last year was a big year because she traveled by herself a lot, fell in love, had her heart broken, and went back to school. Those were themes that had come through with nearly everyone.

It was also interesting that one pilgrim described working in a nightclub and how it was so horrible and convinced him to go back to school. Another pilgrim described getting a job as a bartender at a concert venue and talked about how it is her dream job and she’s been at it ever since. Funny how different people find fulfillment in different ways.

My 21 was remembering my dad shooting off the cannon in Wren Yard prior to graduation!

There was one long stretch without a town, but some nice man had set up a truck in a field and served delicious food, including a special shot of free homemade orange juice to go with fried egg sandwiches.  It was an oasis.  It’s a moment I’ll revisit in my head one day—just a nice break in a pretty place with familiar faces eager to trade stories over yummy food.  Bliss.

Day 20: Boadilla del Camino to Villacalzar del Sirga - 19.5K+

The day started a little bit slowly until I heard someone walk up behind me and inquire, “What is your age 20?”  And just like that, I was walking with Fernanda and sharing my experiences at NIMH. I talked to a bunch of people today about age 20.  Many people were in college and dealing with various stages of being in love or heartbreak.  Some people met their lifelong partners that year. Some people got hurt. Some people hurt others. 

This is what I say when I meet someone and have been talking to for a bit: “I am walking for about 50 days to celebrate my 50th birthday. And on each day of my walk I am thinking about a year of my life and asking other people to think about that year in their life.”  And just like that, we are transported in time.  It’s so much fun.  

Today was a particularly nice day because I had so many people want to tell me what was going on with them at that point in their lives. It feels like the whole Camino has joined in on my game. I was a little worried before I came that having phones on the Camino would mess up a bit of the magic. And it definitely changes things. But it also builds a stronger connection in some ways. 

Pilgrims who are days ahead of me on the Camino are sending voice messages and pictures to let me know what happened during the year in their life that corresponds to the day of my walk. I even have an albergue owner texting to let me know what she was doing even though I left her place 3 days ago.  Sometimes conversations end abruptly because we have to wait until the next day to reveal the next installment of our lives!

Other highlights of the day include screaming at the top of my lungs at a waterfall just because Fernanda invited me to do so. It felt pretty good.

At one point some pilgrims sang me happy birthday in four different languages simultaneously: French, Portuguese, English, and Afrikaans.  It was great!  Here they are:

I spent much much of the day walking with Adrie the South African, who lives in Australia. We had such a nice connection and laughed and learned a lot about each other‘s lives.

There was a BATHTUB in a PRIVATE ROOM tonight.  Bliss.

Second blister of the Camino today.

Tomorrow will be my longest day yet.  

Day 19: Castrojeriz to Boadilla del Camino - 19.5K

Spent much of the morning walking with Hayley.  I had thought I lost her at day 14, but she turned up at 17-19. We had a wonderful connection. She's working on convincing me to revise my book. She shared some songs she had written, singing in an angelic voice.  We parted with a “You Can Go Your Own Way” Fleetwood Mac singalong.  She’s ahead now.

19 was a tough one for me.  Had great college friends, but also spent time in the hospital.  Hayley met her first love in medical school while dissecting a cadaver.  John met and married his wife of 41 years.  He showed us a picture of the lovely Shirley.  

Climbed up a mountain and took a similar pic from 17 years ago looking out over the meseta.

Day 18: Hornillos del Camino to Castrojeriz - 20.1K

So many times today I found myself having a surging feeling that there is nothing else I would rather be doing than walking in this beautiful place with these splendid people.  It’s a tremendous and heart bursting feeling to realize you are in exactly the right place.  I’m grateful.

The weather is just right—cool enough but sunny.  Today began with breakfast and hot coffee in the albergue. I didn’t even need to walk in hopes of finding the coffee.  I also knew that a bottom bunk—actually a single bunk—awaited me at the end of the day.  Fear of the top bunk is really the only damper in my experience.  I loathe the idea of climbing up and down to pee in the middle of the night.  So far so good.  Bottom bunk—“litera abajo” is one of my new Spanish phrases.  

I visited the hermitage of St Brígida:  “May the joy and blessings of St Brígida accompany you on the Camino”

Today was filled with rolling hills and poppies—so many poppies.  I’m surprised I didn’t find Dorothy and the gang sleeping in them.  They’re stunning. 

I walked the final few kilometers of the day with a family of 7.  Little Juniper held my hand as we walked.  It was such fun to play with them.  

I had dinner with an American, a Spaniard, and a German.  Spanish was our common language, so that’s what we spoke!

Many people had strong memories of 18.  Angie became a waitress, and it changed her life.  Jenifer and her boyfriend threw a dart at a map.  It landed on Seattle, so they moved there.  Hayley had a 20something teacher try to assault her.  Pam and Franklin got engaged and married during her 19th year.  

I started college and had trouble concentrating and reading.  I specifically recall trying to read a book for my History of Jazz class and being unable to comprehend the words. During semester break, I met Dr Allen who began treating me for depression.  He was integral to my eventually getting the help and the diagnosis I needed.  He helped me stay in school, too.  That second semester I experienced hypomania for the first time and had a lot of energy before the crash came...

Day 17: Burgos to Hornillos del Camino - 20K

Got a very late start today. We weren’t on the road until 9:30, about 3 hours after I’ve usually started.  I was dragging from the beginning but after filling up with an embarrassing quantity of yogurt from the supermercado, I managed to step a bit livelier and talk the morning away with Mi-Suk. We shared stories about being 17. 

It’s funny that people on the Camino have come to expect this question about what they were doing in their lives on the age that corresponds to the day of my walk. Some are prepared with their answers when we run into each other.  Today I learned that one Estonian pilgrim went to visit her 24 year old first boyfriend in Ireland when she was 17. A Swiss man released his first music album. A woman from Scotland left her small town and went to Glasgow and felt free. 

I was student council president and editor of the school newspaper called The Spectrum, for which I wrote earnest editorials.  I got into William & Mary through early admission and promptly dropped out of my calculus class with my icky teacher. I still have no clue what the f(x) means. 

I had to say goodbye to Mi-Suk today. That made me grumpy as it has been so nice to spend time with her.  After a lively walk discussing high school and first jobs, I dropped her off in a little town where she caught a taxi. I then had many more K to go and  felt tired despite the beautiful scenery on the empty Camino. I was glad to finally glimpse the town. 

Day 16: Burgos - a day of rest

 Even though today was a day of rest, I still managed to walk over 13,000 steps exploring Burgos in chilly weather.  The Spanish do not appear to need coffee before 9, but I was up at 6 watching the sun rise and searching for caffeine. 

Later, I visited with a pilgrim friend from 17 years ago:

I also toured the cathedral. It’s spectacular, every little detail is phenomenal.  I did a little posing in front of the grandiose building. 

I got a massage and had a nice meal with Mi-Suk.  I talked to very few pilgrims today, so I don’t have a lot of other people’s stories about being 16.  I do have a strong memory of carrying a long metal pole around the front yard on my 16th birthday (maybe for the pool?) and looking up to see that I had nearly hit the electric wires with it.  Yikes!  

Back on the Camino tomorrow.  I’m looking forward to starting the meseta but am unhappy that tomorrow is Mi-Suk’s last day.  

Day 15: Atapuerca to Burgos - 20 KM

I was rewarded for rising early today with this beautiful view:

I treated a young Irish lad to breakfast, and in exchange he told me about being 15 and beamed when he described winning a medal for some sport he competed in. We were delighted at the tasty “vegetable sandwiches,” which were suspiciously like chocolate croissants—best veggie sandwich I’ve ever eaten.

People sometimes slow down to chat with me. Today I met Fanny from France who told me that her mother died of cancer when she was 11, so 15 was hard for her because she didn’t have a good role model for how to be a woman and fell in with the wrong crowd. I also talked to Mishka from Hungary about how he met many of his best friends at age 15 but still felt alone.  I also met a woman at a restaurant who was 15 in the late 70s and proudly described a research project she did on AIDS that year.  

When I was 15, I had a gap-toothed teacher named Mr Storms who believed I was a good writer and encouraged me to become a better one. 

It turns out the river route to Burgos was a long stretch of pretty, leafy park, so much better than that horrid other route.

Sometimes people take a day off from walking and call it a “Zero Day.”  Others call it a “Rest Day.”  Pilgrim Jenifer calls it a “Day of Rest,” which sounds sacred and right. That’s what tomorrow is for me. 

Day 14: Villafranca de Montes de Oca to Atapuerca - 18.5 KM

 A day of varied scenery, starting with a BIG and STEEP climb up a mountain through some trees.  Later there were goats and cows and open fields.   

I walked alone for much of the day. I talked to Hayley from the UK about how at 14 she was a mean and pesky popular girl but turned it around after an intervention by her father and ended up going to Cambridge. Later I met Jenifer of (but not from) SC, and she talked about moving to DC from Montana at 14 and learning about different cultures for the first time. 

I recalled being grounded at 14 for coming home late from a cast party. I don’t think my parents have ever been so angry at me. 

Lovely dinner at a restaurant.  We met very nice local people Julian and Anna who chatted with us and sent us off with hugs and good wishes. Julian became a poet at age 14. 

Today marks two weeks on the Camino!  Tomorrow we’re walking into Burgos, which was my least favorite walk of my last Camino.  I’ve been dreading it. Apparently there is an alternate route, which doesn’t require highways or industrial areas. We’ll see. 

Day 13: Belorado to Villafranca de Montes de Oca - 11KM

Short day through fields of barley and yellow flowers. 

I imagined yesterday’s walk would be through nice little towns with cafes filled with tasty baked goods and coffee, but it was a food desert of ghost towns that culminated in a feeding frenzy. Today was the day I imagined for yesterday. There were many tasty stops, including blueberry banana bread from a family that recently moved from Arlington, Virginia!  

Walking with Mi-Suk is such a gift. When do you get long hours to share reflections, sort out tribulations, and engage in idle conversations with old friends?

At 13, I started learning French, which became a gateway to learning Spanish and to traveling later in my life.  

We met Nina from Mexico who got her belly button pierced at age 13 and her friend Chris from Zurich who began listening to hip hop and tagging.  He did it for us on a napkin in a bar where we were waiting out the rain.

 

Day 12: Grañón to Belorado - 16KM

After yesterday’s long day, I was exhausted. Took a bath in our apartment’s tub but didn’t get any coffee right away because I was convinced there would be opportunities in the string of tiny towns we were passing through. No luck. We even found a closed bar that was advertised as a chocolatería.  I advised another pilgrim not to wander off the path to get there  she later bought me some chocolate to thank me from preventing her from going the extra detour.

By the time we reached a bar that was open around 1:30, I was so hungry that I ordered many things and ate them all.  I was delighted that the bar was owned by Colombians who offered actual hot sauce to flavor my dry bocadillo. Bliss. Later on, I ate a liter of yogurt BEFORE a full dinner, though I turned down the dessert included in the meal because at that point I was more exhausted than hungry and just wanted to sleep.  In truly exciting news, we located a jar of peanut butter—a perfect vegetarian hiking food that is scarce here.

Day 12 allowed me to think about starting junior high school and the excitement of meeting new peers for the first time in 7 years. I had my first boyfriend. We kissed in a movie theater. 

Mi-Suk and I walked with Tia from Houston much of the day. She started learning to play the church organ at 12. 

Day 11: Azofra to Grañón - 22.4KM

 After coffee with Arlington Lisa and a civilized hotel breakfast, Mi-Suk and I talked and sang through my longest and latest day yet, facing drizzle, sun, and a thunderstorm finale along the way. We saw vineyards, peas, and fields of wheat.  We even saw a scene that looked like that focus thing you do at the eye doctor. 

In San Domingo de la Calzada, we saw the zombie chickens in the Cathedral. 

We carried on late in the day, dragging ourselves to Grañón where we collapsed, wet and exhausted in the best of ways. I think I’ll keep to 18 KM for now! 

Year 11 was an extremely important one for me. I had no trouble remembering and treasuring it as the year that my then-stepfather adopted me and legally chose me as his daughter.  He had been my father already for sometime, but that’s when it became official, and I changed my last name. I can’t possibly express how much his love means to me. Even now after his death, I feel him with me every day, and I know how proud he is of me, particularly on this grand adventure.  

With the name change, came a party at school to celebrate, and I was no longer Bridget R. to differentiate me from my friend Bridget S. Now I was Bridget P.

Shortly thereafter a photographer from the local paper, The Pictorial, took a picture of me riding my dad’s homemade iceboat and published it with my new name in the caption. It hangs on my wall at home. 

Day 10: Ventosa to Azofra - 16.9KM

Today was very nearly a perfect day. I met some wonderful Spaniards at their bar last night and hung out with them again this morning, such kind people.  I woke early and had a coffee and chocolate croissant and laughed with them. 

Then I wandered through the Rioja vineyards alone at sunrise, pausing to take as many pictures as I cared to of this gorgeous region. 

I had plenty of time to make it to Najera, and along the way I caught up with Lisa from Arlington, and we chatted about being 10. She got into heaps of trouble with her cousin for using pencil sharpener shavings to pretend to roll cigarettes. I didn’t have much to say from that year.  I couldn’t even remember my teacher, but I reflected on the importance of my Gifted and Talented teacher throughout elementary school, Mrs Marois, who had a distinctive perfume, wore a light amethyst ring, and encouraged me to love writing and research. When I was younger, I wrote reports on both chocolate and rainbows. My interests have changed little. 

In Najera, I net up with Mi-Suk, my college friend of 30 years who is joining me for a week!  We visited a monastery then walked on to our fancy hotel inn Azofra. We had dinner with Lisa then  we enjoyed a hot tub and a sauna before tucking in. 

Friends, new and old, a stunning solo walk, a bit of history, some self-spoiling. Really, what more can I ask of a day?

Day 9: Logroño to Ventosa - 18.1KM

America’s urban planning is dreadful in comparison to Spain’s.  I spent a beautiful hour this morning walking out of Logroño. There was no sprawl. There was only a big gorgeous park on the edge of the city.  The park culminated in a stunning lake then gave way to miles of picturesque Riojan vineyards.  

The Camino was packed with Americans today—Idaho, Florida, Virginia, Ohio, New York, Arizona, Pennsylvania were all represented.  I met a woman who lives 10 minutes away from me. We walked for a while, but I spent most of the morning conversing with Idahoan Steph. She has bum knees, so I went slowly along with her. A day will come when I want someone to walk with my limping self. The injuries are really catching up to people.  I’m holding steady.  As long as I’m uninjured and score a bottom bunk, I am a happy camper.

Today I talked with people about being 9.  Connor from Cleveland made an igloo.  Henry from Buffalo got two shitzu puppies.  Jay from Philly figured out how to manage dyslexia due to a kind teacher.  Mark the Yinzer pulled a chair away from a girl he had a crush on and gave her a concussion.  She never paid attention to him again.  

I remember that when I was 9, the teacher on lunch duty (Mrs Novak?) made me anxious by insisting that I had to eat everything on my plate.  I think my mom got involved.  

Day 8: Logroño rest day - 0K

This is the first time since arriving on May 3 that I have spent consecutive nights in one place. It feels amazing. I have my own room with a bed.  It has sheets!  There are towels!  I wasn’t sure I wanted to pause walking, but it has been nice.  

I did important errands this morning.  I washed my clothes at a laundromat. I bought duct tape at a hardware store.  Later in the day, I had a decadent lunch, followed by a decadent hot chocolate, followed by a decadent Thai massage.  

I hung out a bit with pilgrims Owen and Sheena today.  We played a new game that I’ve decided to strap to my backpack and play on the Way.  I’m sure it will bring some merriment.  

Unfortunately, that laughing twosome has to take a break from walking due to some plantar fasciitis.  I’ll see them again; I’m sure of it.   

On my eighth Camino day, I pondered being 8 years old. I wondered why my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs Debris, always wore the same houndstooth pants every day.  I also savored the victorious memory of guessing the exact number of jellybeans in the jar.  I was the only kid in the whole school who got it right.  They announced my name over the loudspeaker.  I got to keep the pretty, tall glass jar on my desk all day long and bring it home and eat the jellybeans.  I don’t remember much about what I studied, but I sure do recall that win.

Day 7: Viana to Logroño - 9.7K

When I had just started my morning walk, I heard several people behind me and I stopped to take a photograph in hopes that they would pass me by, but when I paused, four Israeli women in their 60s and 70s greeted me and told me they remembered me from earlier on the Camino and admired me. I asked what that meant, but they didn’t have a clear answer.  

We fell into step together and I was asking them about their seven-year-old selves.  I learned a little about what it was like to grow up in Israel. I told them that when I was 7, I had a teacher named Mrs. Schneider and she was pregnant and I found that fascinating.  I also told them about the time that Derek Hollowedel  barfed during story time. Of my entire seventh year that is one of the things that sticks with me.

We found a rock on the Camino that said BRING THEM HOME in reference to the hostages taken by Hamas.  They found another rock and inscribed BRING THEM HOME NOW with today’s date.

 Today is the day of remembrance in their country; it is called Yom HaZikaron and they stopped at a designated time to pay tribute.  I asked if I could join them.  One woman used her phone to stream a short speech (prayer?) in Hebrew and listen to a siren wail for a minute. We stood in the shade at the side of the Camino together.  I didn’t understand the words being spoken, but I was moved as my new pilgrim friends sobbed at the sound of the siren.

I walked with one of the women for awhile, and she described how hopeless she feels about her country.  She talked about media manipulation and how difficult it is to know what the truth is unless you have been a witness.  I listened to her.  We all parted with hugs and hopes to see each other again on the Camino.

Soon thereafter I had some coffee and read the newspaper in Spanish. I tried to pay attention to the bias in the coverage of the Middle East, even though it was in another language. That was a challenge.

I went to do a couple of errands. I bought one of three English books that was available in a snooty bookstore.  So it looks like I’m reading the Great Gatsby. Nothing like reading an all-American novel while traipsing across Spain. 

I ended up running into Australian Linda, who was glowing after purchasing a dress, an entirely impractical addition to her Camino wardrobe.  Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I soon found myself in a boutique down the street with a Spanish clerk fussing over me and selecting a dress for me, too.  It features birds!  I wore it later on for wine and pintxos with her and laughing Washington Stateonians Owen and Sheena, who presented me with an exciting birthday present of nail clippers!  Over dinner, I tried a no thank you helping of anchovies.  I was proud of myself.

Day 6: Los Arcos to Viana - 18.4K

When I looked at my phone at the end of the day today, I expected to find many photographs reflecting how beautiful the landscape was, but it turned out that it’s all so beautiful that I don’t particularly bother trying to capture it anymore.  

Today’s walk was longer with lots of ups and downs, but I kept checking in with my body and being so pleased to find it feeling strong and confident. I did develop my first blister, which I slapped some Compeed on.

I spent the afternoon watching Spanish people enjoying their Sunday in a small town. I watched twin one year-old girls play in the plaza with their mother running around, trying to herd them.  I watched young people perform in a brass band.  I watched some folks chant and celebrate a football win.  The pace of life seems much slower and more manageable.  

On this sixth day of my Camino, I didn’t have much to think about regarding my sixth year. I remember that Mrs. Bentley was my teacher in first grade. It’s striking that when I ask people about their lives at this young age, they always link it to a teacher’s name. It’s a reminder of how much of an influence teachers can have.  

I’m still moving slowly.  People usually pass me, though some people slow down to chat with me for a little while. I met a nice German man today and bought him a coffee because it was his first day on the Camino.  Here’s a picture of me moving steadily along:

Day 5: Villamayor de Monjardin to Los Arcos - 12.4K

I had planned ahead to moderate my distances in the beginning and let my body adjust to walking so much more than usual, but I’m feeling a little impatient.  This day’s walk was much too short. Funny when walking almost 8 miles seems insufficient, but I arrived here in Los Arcos before noon and just rested in order to nurse my cold. I also used the time to make reservations for places to stay with Mi-Suk when she arrives next week.  

 I had nice conversations with several pilgrims. I’m continuing to think about one year of my life on each day of the walk, and I have been inviting other pilgrims to reflect on that year in their lives, too. So today I shared that at age 5, my parents married, I moved to my childhood home, and I met my best friend. It was a big year. I also thought about my kindergarten teacher Mrs Nord. I recall that she asked me to say the alphabet backwards. Some other pilgrims and I tried doing that.  I think it was easier at age 5. 

I heard all kinds of stories from others about that time in their lives, ranging from getting stabbed in the eye with a splinter to having to share a birthday party with a classmate to leaving a beloved cat behind during a move.  Coincidentally, there is a 5 year old in the albergue where I’m sleeping tonight.  This will be a memorable year for him.  

Conversations here often dive deep quickly. After establishing where we started and where we’re going and sharing a brief update on the status of our feet, we reveal all manner of intimacies. People are good conversationalists—both good listeners and good storytellers.  It’s such a pleasant community. 

Here’s where I sat for much of the day:

Day 4: Estella to Villamayor de Monjardin - 9.1K

Short day today, which was good because I was feeling feverish and sniffly. I had some trouble shaking it off, even when I spotted my favorite Mary Oliver quote in Spanish.

I had the Camino mostly to myself today. I stopped several times. I found myself leftover hungry from not having eaten enough the night before. Before noon I had an orange, a banana, a chocolate croissant, a package of chorizo, some cheese, and three yogurts. 

Very nice tasty shared meal with other pilgrims served by the albergue. Afterwards, I hung out with Sheena and Owen from Washington state, in this beautiful town overlooking the countryside. 

Day 4 meant thinking about being 4. That was the year I met my soon to be father when he showed up with a tiny turtle in his pocket. I learned to read that year. I rode around with my mom in the school bus she was driving. I believe that was the year I wanted to swim to the raft off the beach in Old Saybrook. 

Day 3: Cirauqui to Estella - 14.4K

The highlight of today was visiting Jose Ramón in Lorca. Seventeen years ago he took me in and gave me a private room.  I wrote about him here. I’m sure he doesn’t remember me out of the thousands of tired and grateful pilgrims he has encountered since then. But it was nevertheless fun to reconnect. 

Another beautiful day of walking today with splendid wildflowers decorating the fringes of the path. I’m starting to connect with various pilgrims.  I did laundry with a woman I just met.  Nothing unites strangers like merging dirty underwear!  I was so delighted to find a washing machine and dryer at my hostel.

This is Beth’s last day on the Camino.  It was so nice to kick it off with her!

Today on day 3, I contemplated being 3, the same age that my soon-to-be goddaughter is now.  She remembers exactly what happened last week, but will she remember anything in the long term?  Are my memories from that time real or constructed from photographs and stories?  It’s hard to know  I think my earliest memory is from this age  I don’t think it came from a story.

Day 2: Uterga to Cirauqui - 14.8k

Another stunningly beautiful walk today.  Scotch broom, poppies, vineyards, dancing wheat. So many wildflowers. There was one very steep climb but with fine, sunny but cool walking weather, it was an enjoyable challenge  

I think I have 50 days total to walk—one for each year of my life. So today while walking, I tried thinking about being 2. I don’t have any strong memories from that time. I know what my basic circumstances were. It will get easier to think about particular years as the days pass.  I like thinking about the walking through that lens, though.  My 30th year was my hardest.  I wonder what that day’s walk will look like!

When I was little—not sure exactly what age—someone trained me to rub my legs and proclaim, “I have niiiice legs and cute feet!”  Young people can and should be convinced to like their bodies and brag about them.  I wonder at what age that stops being so straightforward. I get frustrated with my too wide feet and my too big legs. Reminds me of this poem  

Here on the Camino, I have to appreciate my niiice legs and cute feet anew.  I have to celebrate my body for what it can do and also be gentle with myself about what I can’t do.  I’ve been duct taping a couple of hotspots to prevent rubbing.  And due to the combined magic of weight training and physical therapy, I’m feeling pretty strong and unsore overall.  I’ve purposely started with low mileage days so that I can be kind to my feet and body. I am hoping to increase my mileage at some point, probably when my friend Mi-Suk arrives next week. I saw some folks who have not been gentle with their bodies at the beginning, and they are suffering  

I’m surprised and pleased that my feet and my Spanish are holding up equally well.  Due to some lessons online with my Guatemalan Spanish teacher during the pandemic, my conversational Spanish is reasonably strong. I have niiice verbs and cute nouns. Or so I can keep telling myself.  I can chat with barkeeps and pharmacists with ease. It’s one of the many pleasures of being here: interacting with new people in a different language. It feels so magical when words pop out of my mouth that I didn’t even know I knew, such fun to banter with local folks.

First days

 May 2007 - First day of Camino de Santiago in St Jean Pied de Port, France

May 2024 - First day of Camino de Santiago in Pamplona, Spain

Day 1: Pamplona to Uterga - 16.77k+

A more eventful start than I hoped for today!  Just moments after my “first day of school picture” was taken, I noted that my chest strap was missing. Another pilgrim, whom I had scowled at earlier for trying to get away without paying for breakfast, found it on the ground—that’ll teach me to judge.  Beth and I then spent 2 hours going to 4 establishments—one seamstress, one suitcase repair place, and two shoe repair places—until we finally located someone who could fix it.  Pilgrims say there are “Camino angels,” and mine is named Miguel Angel who heroically leather-punched a hole in my backpack. Now my strap works just fine!  We’ll see if I return the backpack to REI anyway…

After scrambling all over Pamplona, we managed to pick up the Camino right outside Miguel Angel’s door..

Gorgeous walk with many wildflowers and waving green grasses.  I was delighted to see the poppies that I remembered so fondly from my last trip. Climbed up a hill and carefully picked our way down a steep, rocky path before arriving just before 5. Yummy dinner now resting in a comfy sleeping bag on a bottom bunk, listening to snorers. 

camino eve: Heeeeere we gooooooo!

We spent much of the day in Pamplona, doing some final errands in preparation for starting the walk tomorrow. The only bulls we saw were stuffed. I bought a small knife and walking sticks since I couldn’t bring either aboard the airplane. I got a tiny notebook to record daily highlights. On an impulse, I bought more toe socks, thinner ones.   

Beth will be with me for 3 days of walking before heading back to Madrid. 

I have an expanse of time from May 7-June 24 to fill with day after day of walking. It’s 665K (413 miles) to Santiago and another 145K (90 miles) to Finisterre.  That means I have 50 days to walk 810K (503 miles), approximately 16K (10 miles) per day.  

I keep thinking about the 4 older Canadian women pilgrims I met in 2007. They were a hoot. And every time they began walking, one of them would sing out: “Heeeeere we gooooooo!”  That’s how I feel right now. Just ready to move forward joyfully and see what happens…