The way to Santiago

A few years ago, six to be precise, I met a girl while travelling that told me her most amazing trip had been walking to Santiago. She had described the outburst of emotion, the nonstop uncontrolled crying, one of the most significant experiences in her life. As if the walk and the later crying, had cleansed a deep obscure side of her, as if her wounds had been be cured, as if she had finally been able to let go. A feeling of blissfull happiness.

Yesterday I started walking. Partly seeking redemption, and reconciliation with myself - cause I had ben a bit of a bitch to myself to be honest -  the other thinking walking would help me actually think in a more clean focused way, and would give me direction. Walking had always been challenging for me, mainly because I considered my feet useless because of my big arches, which had brought me so much pain on other walks I'd done in life. But I had "prepared" myself...a little...by buying inner soles - the good ones Scholls - and that's it really. Did not have special socks (just the usual H&M) or special shoes, but I thought my good trainers would do.

I flew to Madrid as I planned to visit a friend there first and then, the next day took a bus from Madrid to Pedrafita do Cebreiro. From that point I would only have to walk the last 150 km to Santiago, so as to cover 20/25 km in the seven days I had off work. I'd chosen the french Camino to Santiago which really starts in St. Jean Pied de Port, which if done complete takes aprox 32 days. However due to my olack of time, I could cover only the last bits. There are other many other trails one can pick from as people can walk from wherever they want (I met some people walking from Rome!). However the french had more meaning, as St Jean Pied de Port is where my great grandparents lived, so...it made sense.

So time to walk. One hundred and fifty kilometres will do. One hundred and fifty kilometres of my time, time to think, focus, figure out what I want, and let go.

First stage

Start: Piedrafita do Cebreiro.

Finished: at Alto Do Poio 

My plan had been to sleep first night in O Cebreiro but arrived at 6 pm and there were no beds left, which could have been scary and terrible given that I did not plan on walking and light would be gone in 2 hours. But it was alright. I walked 8 more kilometres and after several attempts found a bed in Alto. 

At Alto I met Esther, a woman from Andalucia trying to fix her 10 year marriage, taking some time off to re-think how she would cope with a separation (after 16 years of togetherness). It's amazing how much you get to know a stranger when you are placed on a spiritual pathway.

We decided to walk together the next day.

I went off to sleep that first night satisfied. I'd had a wonderful day alone full of music and beautiful scenery, and I had walked 13 kilometres. I was already feeling that sense of adventure you experience that first night, in an unknown bed, in a shared bedroom, surrounded by moans and strangers' snoring. Excited, full of hope. Happy.