Buen Camino!  How do I sum up a week on the Camino de Santiago?  There isn’t enough time!  There aren’t enough words!  To begin with,  I was a rarity on the Camino.  As I previously mentioned, many people are on it for 2-4 weeks.  There are quite a number of different routes you can walk (all ending in Santiago.)  The one I was on (The Way of St. James) typically takes 30+ days from start to finish.  When I told people I was only walking for a week their first response was “A week?  Why only a week?”  I then had to explain that I hadn’t planned as well as I could have (*note: I was a bit tentative walking by myself.) The conversation typically ended with everyone agreeing that it didn’t matter for how long or far one walked.  It wasn’t about completing the journey, but more starting the journey.  The journey is the way.

Most parts of the Camino require not only trust but a bit of blind faith.  Pilgrims walk all day (typically 8am-3pm) until they stumble upon a town and hope for a bed in an “alburgue” or hostel.  Alburgues have varying accommodations from single rooms to dorm style rooms with 20+ beds.   Your spot for the night depends on what time you get to an alburgue and how much you are willing to pay.  20-50 euros for a private room 5-10 euros for a bed in a dorm.

On day one the A-Team walked mostly alone.  We arrived to our first town after walking nearly 15 miles.  It was a teeny tiny town with not much going on other than pilgrims sitting outside in the plaza and sharing stories.  While having a glass vino tinto (red wine) at the local “bar,” a group of pilgrims came up to us saying they had just visited an old man’s house where he had museum.   I know it sounds random and it was!  My friend told me about this before I left.  “Make sure you go to the museum at the first stop.  This guy has all this stuff in his house like old typewriters and telephones!”  I was intent on going to see it.   We quickly found the place and started exploring.  Throughout the tour I unintentionally became the group’s interpreter.  I spoke the most Spanish of any member in the group.   And that is not saying much!  There was definitely some “creative liberty” taken when interpreting the old man’s historical accounts. “Um,  I think he is saying these books are from the 1700s and that they have been passed down throughout his family but I could be totally wrong!”  It was a bit like the scene from Goonies when the character “Mouth” is interpreting cleaning instructions between the mom and housekeeper.

At the end of the tour it began to torrentially rain.   We were walking outside of the man’s house and saw an adorably small car. Think of a smart car.  Now downsize it by 25%.  I thought I said to the man “Is that your car?” but apparently what I said was  more along the lines of “Pardon me old sir.  Is that your car and, if it is, can we please squeeze three grown adults into it and be transported back to our alburgue which is roughly a mile down the road.”  “Si si si,” he kept saying frantically while gesturing for us to get into the car.  What do you do when it’s raining and an adorable, elderly Spanish man insists you get in to his car?  You look at your new friends, shrug your shoulders and get into the car.  After arriving safely back to our hostel, we had a big “pilgrim’s dinner.”  For roughly 7-10 euros most alburgues will serve soup/salad, meat/potatoes/vegetable, dessert, bread and wine.  After hiking all day with a heavy pack, this simple dinner is like manna from the heavens.

The next few days all fell in the same order.  Awake around 7, start walking by 8, arrive at an alburgue by 4, wine and stories at 5, dinner by 7, in bed by 10.  It may sound like a bit of Groundhogs Day but it wasn’t.  Each day was a unique experience shared with new people, sights and sounds.  The Camino allowed for me to connect with people in an entirely different way than merely traveling.  Talking, singing, reflecting, praying.  Everyone doing something for a common cause and watching after each other.  Open and willing to talk but equally supportive in giving a person space for alone time and reflection.  THE CAMINO PROVIDES .  It is a statement heard over and over.  It doesn’t truly make sense until you are out there.

After a couple of days together,  the A-Team started slowly picking up new members.  There was John from Wales, Louise from Australia, Geraldine from London, Andy and Anne from Scotland, and our favorite Italians Francesca and Cinzia.   We had a little entourage of sorts.  Walking together, walking alone.  Staying with the pack, going off for a bit of solitude.  Many would spilt off during the day and reconvene at night over wine and a pilgrim’s meal.  One day I was walking with the Italians Francesca and Cinzia.  They were asking me all sorts of questions about myself.  After that they starting asking me about the Australian and Austrian.  I was racking my brain trying to think of the information.  Why couldn’t I come up with answers to their questions about my friends.  “Gosh I don’t know,” I said.  Then it dawned on me.  It was Tuesday afternoon.  I had met the members of the A-Team Monday morning.  “I only just met them yesterday,” I told the Italians.   “You did?  We thought you came with this group!”  “No, no but I feel like I’ve known them for years.  Why is that?” Cinzia thought about it for a moment then said, “Because every minute on the Camino counts.”  That resonated with me.  No internet or TV to distract me and dull the senses.  Only fresh air, wide open spaces, and time to think.  Every minute stretched on for days and days.  Sometimes a minute was tough like when walking up a steep hill, other minutes were silly such as when everyone in the group sang their national anthem at the top of their lungs in the morning rain and then there were the reflective minutes thinking about life’s blessings and how much there is to be grateful for.

My only complaint was not spending more time on the trail.  I was nervous to go alone.  I didn’t commit to giving myself more days.  I will go back and finish the Camino de Santiago.  I may go with friends.  I may go by myself again. Either way the Camino is opening it’s arms to me saying “Come back.  We hardly saw you.  There is no reason to be worried.  You are welcome here.”

After one long day on a piece of land that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles in every directions,  a woman came up beside me and began quietly walking in step with me  “Are you here by yourself?” I asked her.  “Yes I am,” she answered. “But on the Camino you are never truly alone.”