After my chance reunion with my Icelandic comrade in the town of Bercianos del Camino, we walked ran the next 8km to El Burgo Ranero in short order, arriving before the local municipal, Domenico Laffi, had officially opened to pilgrims for the day.
As the two of us sat outside in the wind and sun, I took the opportunity to reflect upon how far I had come already this Camino. Sunday marked two weeks walking, non-stop, from St. Jean. Some days were brutal and long; some were relatively quiet and short. But each was a blessing unto itself, with trials and afflictions sharing the same path as alleviation and respite. Every day you wake up, comrades, is a day to appreciate.
Camino is a very strange place, lemme tell you. Of course, if you’re out here, or have walked afore, you know this already. But if you haven’t walked the Way yet, let me a’splain the situation to you.
For many people, the Way is little more than a walk through northern Spain with some nice photo ops here and there, some fuckold churches (can I say that?), and sharing a big room with a bunch of drunken assholes that need to wake up at 5AM to walk 20km to the next big room full of drunken assholes.
For me, it is (mostly) that, but there are a great many things that go unappreciated and undocumented in the copious amount of (unnecessary) guides people lug around.
I was planning on writing a longer post but I’m absolutely knackered from pimp slappin’ the Pyrenees today so you’ll just have to make do with pictures and bullet points. Quit your bitchin’ – this is trail wisdom. You’ll go far, kid, with these observations about Life on the Way.
Bruno’s Trail Wisdom; or, Here’s to Enjoying Life
– If you’re on the fence about bringing an item, leave it behind. – Exactly what it says on the tin, folks. Today, it being the first day for many pilgrims, you see bags filled to the brim with absolutely every pocket stuffed with gods knows what; the give-and-take table at the albergue is completely covered in such items. If you are hiking for any amount of time, be mindful of what you bring because you have to carry every ounce upon your back.
– Every mountain has a peak. – Don’t get discouraged because the trail keeps going up; it has to end somewhere. You just keep chugging along, one foot in front of the other, and before you know it, hell, you just climbed a mountain! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, or if you take a break, or if you want to quit and go home. The important thing is to remember that everything that might seem difficult to you now will be inconsequential so long as you keep going. Reach the peak, then shout from the top.
– Turn around now and then. – Not to see who’s following you or whom you’ve left behind, but to take in your accomplishments and see the world you just passed by. Look how far you’ve come already! Just by keeping your head on a swivel, you can really improve your mood. That mountain behind you? Yeah, you hiked that fucker. The city eating your dust? Left it behind like an orphan baby. People are capable of incredible things, and sometimes you just need that friendly reminder. Turn around and take in those sights.
– Be friendly to everyone, yes, everyone you meet on the trail. – For starters, being a dickhead is rarely acceptable behavior (unless you’re from the North), and a smile goes a very long way. Even if you don’t speak the lingo, a simple nod, smile, wave, or anything, really can do wonders for other people. Maybe homeboy’s having a shitty day, and you just brightened his mood by being polite. Yes, being polite to everyone – including those goddamned wop daigos and their insufferable audible levels – can work wonders. Be nice on the trail.
– You’re never alone. – Look at those two! Fuck, I walked behind them for a few hundred meters waiting to get a good shot of them holding hands as they hiked; it was beautiful. Just two loving pilgrims walking along together, paying no mind to the howling wind or stinging rain; simply walking as one. Always remember, no matter where you are, you aren’t alone. You are always in someone’s thoughts, prayers, hopes, and dreams. When you stop and realize that, well, it makes all the hardships more bearable.
So my time at my current Wwoof site, Les Tremblais, is coming to a close within two days and a wake up. It has been a most enlightening and delightful detour of sorts, one I hadn’t planned on undertaking, yet I am ever so grateful and thankful I decided to pursue this thread along the Way. By mere chance and polite conversation, I was turned on to the joys of Wwoofing and here I’ve been – for two weeks – working in an idyllic – yet difficult – lifestyle.
Oh, snap. Two sets of dashes one right after the other. Mmm, my grammar is strong tonight, son. Tangent; forgive me. (Bitchin’ use of the semicolon though, no?)
Disclaimer – This post contains graphic images of animal processing. If you aren’t too keen on that, I advise you skip this read.
Hey there folks,
It’s been a hell of a birthday here in France, lemme tell you.
See what I mean?
This little fellow decided to be my birthday present to myself for he absentmindedly wandered into my snare and got himself butchered in the process. My lovely hosts (more on them in a bit) allowed me to skin and clean the kill for a future meal. Not much meat on him, but, hey! Got me a rabbit stew on the horizon.
So this voyage has taken a bit of a delightful detour, if you will, for I’ve committed myself to Wwoofing in France for the next two weeks.
“What in blazes is Wwoofing,” you might ask aloud to no one in particular, to which I would reply (to no one in particular), “Why, tis a veritable hoot and a half of a volunteer organization I tell you!” So sit back, get on your dungarees, and prepare to be engulfed in my Camino Detour.