After months of preparation and anticipation, several days getting to know each other while waiting for late arrivals and lost luggage, several days sharing wine and Spanish food, writing and art classes, with instructions about how to adjust our backpacks and properly use our hiking poles, and getting all geared up, we actually took our first steps on the Camino de Santiago today. It was our shortest day in term so mileage, a three-mile hike, pretty much entirely uphill on country roads. It’s the beginning of our 100-kilometer pilgrimage.
Early this morning, after packing up at our lovely retreat center and having the most incredible fresh orange juice I’ve ever tasted, we took a bus to our start point and stepped out onto the Camino for the first time, water bladders filled, our gear stowed, lunches made, socks straightened, shoes laced up, ready to begin. I felt a quiet, growing excitement building inside my belly. My whole being tingled with it. What was it? Joy—I call it joy!
After priming the pump for so long, our pilgrimage was finally beginning.
Before we walked, we started with a stretching circle. Brenda gave us last-minute instructions about adjusting our packs and watching out for the first signs of any “hot spots” on our feet. “Stop and deal with it right away,” she said. “Don’t wait. Things will only get worse. You don’t want to get blisters.” She taught us how to do a resting step when going uphill. And then we set off.
When I’d looked at the weather forecast just days before I left behind, the temperatures were in the mid-eighties. I’d brought two sundresses and shorts to hike in. But fortunately, I’d also brought warm shirts and a down vest, a merino muff that covers the neck and head and a fleece band for my ears, a windbreaker and a raincoat. It was cool—actually perfect hiking weather, but not at all the heat I expected. I piled on and peeled off clothes several times. And just kept walking.
The vistas were stunning. I drifted in and out of conversations with my group. Sometimes I just found my own pace and stayed silent. And the joy I’d felt at the start of our hike just kept building. The realization blossomed inside of me: “I’m walking the Camino! I’m really walking the Camino! It was just as thrilling the second time. Walking here is different than walking anywhere else I’ve been in the world: you’re treading of same path as hundreds of thousands of feet over centuries. You’re walking across a country, not up and down a trail. With each step, I felt connected to something so much bigger than myself—all the centuries of pilgrims walking with me. Here are some images from our very first day. Scroll down, turn on your sound, and be sure to read the captions.
As some members of our group made their very last adjustments on their gear, others discovered several hula hoops hanging on a wall. They proved irresistible.
This was an unexpected musician we came upon on the trail. Apparently, there are a lot of Celtic influences on the Camino.
Some of these lists are geared toward introspection, like, “Make a list of things going stale in your life.” And on the same day, “Make a list of things that enliven you and bring you joy.” Other days, the daily lists are designed to sharpen our writers’ sense of observation. Today, one of our lists today was, “Today I heard….”
