Rest Days

And so at 6am, groggy and messy, I give my American Friend a quick hug and she says "I'll see you soon". This is one of the hardest parts of the Camino,  most would agree, parting with your newfound friend. You meet many fellow trekkers, walk with them for an hour, a day or two, or perhaps just share a cervasa in the shade, but I've noticed you connect hard. And quickly. There's no bullshit small talk here. You're on a Pilgrimage and deep talk begins as early as your first coffee con Leche, because no one really gets it unless you're both doing the Camino. You share an understanding of pilgrim shaming, the padding on your feet aching and the amazing simplicity of ice cream at the end of the day.

During the rest day I sneak into bars, order a coffee and quietly unplug the lamp in the corner and replace it with my phone charger (we are kicked out of our Albergue until well into the afternoon). I sneak into coffee shops scruntching my nose at chemical fregrances to fill up my water in the washroom knowing I'm getting dirty looks at my all too natural scent.

During my rest day, my heart aches to be walking and I'm trying to understand the irony of this, it's as if my brain and body are two separate identities: my back and feet scream Stop, but my head longs to not be left behind; I've got so many miles left to go.

During the rest day I walk to the top of Ventosa and lay on the grass, lounging horizontal for as long as I can, resting my back, while reading Harry Potter (I'm flying out of London, Hellllllo).

I randomly and perfectly bump into my Polish friend and we go for a quick bite to eat and vino during the hot hours of the day. She continues ten more kilometres and I continue to long after her. But that is the thing with soloing the Camino: that is her Comino and this is mine, and we must presumably walk them differently.

I was FB messaged by a Canadian friend who asked if I've seen many sites or mostly just walked.  I smiled and typed, mostly walking. But if she only knew what I've seen, what I've done. With 200KM I've walked myself into an entirely different climate, walking from the rainy Pyrenese mountains to rolling hills into hot desert lands. 16 kilometers is about easy day and my life belongings are summed up into a pink bag with eleven items. It still surprises me every day that I'm walking my way across a country, across Spain.

So I remind myself that I must listen to my body,  if I'm ever going to successfully walk 600 more kilometers. I must respect these back pains and know that one day off my feet is going to keep me going.

I hug my American Friend back just as tightly, and repeat "I'll see you soon". Know just as much as hoping that I will.

Kindly,

A Nastalgic Pilgrim

Miles to go before I sleep.