uncompass

Today was not one of my finer moments in life. It started out really well, but by 11:00 everything went kind of downhill.

After our 42k day yesterday, Paul and I were in no hurry to get on the road. We only had to walk a 25k, and had all day to do it. We took our time eating breakfast and then goofed around at the castle in Castrojeriz. After a mock photo shoot and lots of exploring, we hit the Camino at around 9am.

“The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains.”

No sentence has more truth to it than this one. It was another day of crossing the muddy meseta, another day of walking through nothingness. The second we stepped on the Camino, the downpour set in. It was freezing, we were soaked, and there was nothing but foggy plains for miles.

Physically, I was miserable. Mentally, however, I was feeling really good. I felt tough and strong. I felt thankful for the struggle and kept reminding myself of my days in cross country where we’d run miles and miles through blizzards and storms and sleeting rain. This was nothing compared to that.

About 13k in, we decided to stop for lunch and coffee. I don’t really know what happened, but the second I stepped inside and got a taste of warmth I just gave up and accepted defeat.

“Dude, I’m f***ing done with this. I’m just going to stay here and walk farther tomorrow to catch up. Screw this damn rain.”

The second I said this, Paul’s eyes lit up. He had been in a little worse shape than I was; his rain gear proved to be faulty and his hands had turned completely purple. He was 100% down.

So, here I am, sitting in a warm bar after a hot shower and completely missing the point of the Camino. Unable to handle the discomfort, and unwilling to experience struggle. Earlier this morning I was trash talking the people who decided to skip the rainy meseta and walk along the coast, and look at me now. Hypocrisy at its finest

However, this ended up working out in my favor m. As I was sitting in the bar typing this post, an old Irish man invited me over to come sit at their table. There were 4 men and 2 females, all from Ireland and all good friends walking the Camino together. We all just sat and talked for hours, and it was so much fun. Never in my life have I seen anyone drink as much as these people did. I guess that’s the Irish for you. They asked me to play some classic American music, so I put on Bob Dylan and they loved it- one of the dudes literally hugged me and picked me up out of my seat. They were all at least 50 but they acted like 10 year olds, standing on the chairs and dancing on the table.

We talked about politics and religion and music and just life in general. One of them, (an ex-sailor alcoholic who lives in a cave in the mountains) told me about all the things he’s done wrong in his life and how he would never go back and change any of it. “When you’re born, you are stamped with exactly what is supposed to happen to you. It all happens for a reason. Life is just one long road, so follow that road and enjoy everything that happens to you. Don’t be afraid of change, and don’t worry so much about the future. Just live your life and be happy…” or something along those lines. Between his thick Irish accent and drunken slur I missed a couple of things here and there, but you get the idea.

It was just really refreshing to be around such light-hearted and fun-loving people. I’m finding that I tend to meet a lot more people when I’m alone, so I think I’m going to have to break off on my own at some point soon. That’s definitely something that’s outside of my comfort zone, especially because I’m so ridiculously shy, but I know that it will pay off and that I will learn and grow a lot from it. The people on the Camino are a huge part of this experience, and I would like to delve into that aspect more.

Despite the rain, I’m just really happy to be here. Buen Camino!

Rainy plains