Camino …?

Howdy folks,

Well, like most of my relationships and full-time jobs, it has come to an abrupt end. I knew it was coming – even had it planned since March – but the idea that this Camino adventure is officially over as I return to the States still has me wonderin’ aloud what in blazes I’m accomplishing with my Life when I’m not on the Way. At least it didn’t come barreling into the room in tears crying about this and that and all that “I’m leaving you” and “You’re so cryptic” nonsense.

That’s Camino, eh comrades?

In real time, to the fellow sitting next to me on the plane(s), I apologize for the incredible body odor and the fact I’m dressed like a member of ISIS.

No, seriously. I smell like my Swiss uncle after a long day of farmin’ and my all-black outfit and sad excuse for a beard only lack the AK-47 to complete the Daesh ensemble. No doubt passing through the American security checkpoints will be rather humorous. Inshallah.

As my good friend Nicole has always remarked upon my misfortunes, I have brought this upon myself.

Still, fellow passenger, I am so so sorry for the fact I’m a smelly terrorist lookalike. Still friends?

A curious reader – who has followed this nonsense for well over a month now – will no doubt be wondering: where in blazes did he get an ISIS outfit when all he packed was this garbage:

The gays aren’t the only ones who can pack shit tight.

I’ll give you a hint: Click this for the hilarity of understanding.

Continue reading “Camino …?”

Advertisements

Camino Frances: Para mi Libro

Howdy folks,

For four days now, I’ve been tramping about the Camino Frances on my way to Santiago. You’ve already read – theoretically – about the desolation of Camino Madrid and the stark contrast to Frances in terms of amenities and pilgrims. I needn’t bore you with such details any further.

What I shall bore you with, howe’er, is about the day to day shenanigans I find myself getting in to as I slowly close in upon my goal of visiting the holy city and the splendid coast.

Do forgive the lack of photos as the internet at the albergue municipal is far from fast. It’s reminiscent of the dial-up I grew up with (kids, ask your parents).

Continue reading “Camino Frances: Para mi Libro”