Post Camino Reflections, Part 1

¡Hola!

I’ve been home a week now, and Camino thoughts fill my head daily. Except for when I’m coughing - it turns out that the cough I've had since the week before I left for Spain is bronchitis. I keep thinking how easy The Way would have been if my lungs had been working properly, but then I laugh because srsly, nothing would make it easy except not doing it. As I mentioned in one of my Facebook posts written during our adventure, my sister said that the only way to train for the Camino is to do the Camino.

I have the feeling that the next few posts here are just going to be repeats of things I’ve posted daily from the trail, what I’ve learned, things I don’t want to forget, and thoughts going forward.

Since I've been back, people have asked what made me decide to do it. I saw a movie? I wanted a challenge? To prove to myself that I can do hard things? An adventure? All of the above and more?

(And to all my friends who ask questions and listen to me talk about my journey, thank you!)

This truly was the hardest, bravest, scariest, and most incredible thing I have ever done. It was difficult physically and emotionally. I found I needed to dig pretty deep some days to come up with the strength to put one foot in front of the other for mile after mile and day after day. My mantra sometimes was "just one step, just one step". There was one steep hill that I literally counted to twenty, stopped and rested (bent over with my hands on my knees), then counted to 20 again, stopped and rested, until I got to the top. I had a lot of time to think, and while Jeanie and I were walking buddies, I'd say at least a fourth of the day we were walking separately.

While Dwight and I fly a fair amount, this is the first time I've been to Europe. My sister and I had to navigate an airport in a large city (and I'm not even talking about O'Hare here!), the tram, Spanish customs, light rail, trains, taxis, buses, different currency - all in a language that I don't speak. We had one transaction in a little shop by the Cathedral with a gentleman who didn't speak a word of English, and we spoke about as much Spanish. Yet we were able to understand each other and end with a buenos dias. Two little ladies in one of the inns where we stayed thought that by speaking louder and standing closer we would understand them better; again, while that didn't exactly work, we each made ourselves understood. (And before I go back to Spain, I am so getting Rosetta Stone and studying!)

One of the biggest lessons I learned is how little is really needed to get by. Jeanie and I were talking about it our last night when we were sitting in the Marriott lobby bar in Madrid, and I was dressed ever so stylishly in my black dress/nightie, with my sarong/scarf/towel wrapped around my shoulders as a shawl, wearing my black hiking sandals (with NO socks this time because I’m classy like that). We’d find ourselves sniffing our clothes and going, hmmm...that’s not too bad. I can wear it another day. Or two. This from me, who wears an item once and then throws it in the laundry. It's not that our standards were lowered; we just knew what was important.

I wore everything that I brought except my not-needed rain poncho (thank you Jesus). I found I  didn’t need anything more but would have made some substitutions. I wish I had brought a lighter-weight jacket instead of the one I did bring; maybe a light pullover, and maybe some leggings or yoga pants instead of my hiking pants just to feel a little dressier after hiking all day. It makes a big difference what you actually NEED when you have to carry everything on your back.

And about my pack: the size was perfect at 36 liters. The only day it really bothered me was the last day, and that was totally my fault. That morning I decided to hike in my sandals, so put my shoes in the bottom of my pack where my (much-lighter) sandals had been. So the heaviest things in my pack were at the bottom, instead of close to my spine like they should have been. But did I stop to repack, which would have taken ten minutes max? Oh hell no. I suffered for hours instead. 

After our first day, I texted Dwight and told him he didn't need to train so hard for our planned (longer) Camino two years from now because there was no chance of it happening. Except now there is. It's like childbirth; while it's awful going through it, it's pretty wonderful on the other side. So I will be studying Spanish, plotting our trip, and mentally packing my backpack for my next Camino. And wondering what lessons will unfold from that adventure.

Ultreia!
Cathy