I lost my granny panties. If you think I just let it go, you’re wrong. Yesteday morning I went to get my clothes from where I had hung them to dry last night and my clothes had been moved and my granny panties were gone.
So far, I’ve lost underwear, laundry detergent, a hiking shirt, face wash, laundry soap, and yesterday I thought my mind might be the next to go.
I was out of the albergue by 7:30 and not so subtly sobbing by 7:45.
The sunrise was beautiful. I didn’t care. I was annoyed by the sound of pilgrims talking, annoyed that I lost my underwear, and annoyed that I was sweating in 40 degree weather. I was even annoyed that I was annoyed.
I walked alone for the morning until I ran into Sylvia and Judith, who I met at my albergue the first night in St. Jean Pier De Porte.
“You doing okay?” Sylvia asked.
I nodded.
“It’s okay, let it out” Judith said patting my arm.
“Everyone cries on the Camino” Sylvia said.
I don’t know what the tears were about exactly, though I am finding that the Camino seems to bring up that which you have shoved down.
I walked with Sylvia for a bit and we ran into Carl from Holland, who I had talked to the night before. He did the Camino Frances nine years ago and like many pilgrims, has completed many other routes.
“Emotions are just energy in motion. Problems arise when we don’t let them flow” he said.
I had heard that before, but welcomed the reminder.
So, the emotional part of the day passed and made way for the physical. I knew it was going to be a long day, clocking 28 km to get to Logrono. What I didn’t know was that I would run out of food and water at 20 km without any stops in sight and waddle like a penguin for the last stretch. I started just saying
“Left. Right. Left. Right.”
I think that bought me 200 feet and then I ran into Cecil and her company carried me the rest of the way into Logrono.
Once I got to my room (which I shared with 5 Italian men and a young couple from Germany), I stood in the shower for a solid 20. Later, I met up for tapas with Cecil and Jay, Sylvia, Bill from a Michigan, and a sweet gentleman from France. They talked about work and adult things I didn’t understand while I inhaled food and then stared into space, about to fall asleep.
Today was much better. This morning, one of the young Italian men bought me breakfast and we hit the pavement for another 28 km.
The body is amazing. I can’t believe I’m walking this much everyday and carrying my pack. By the end of the day, I forget I am even carrying it, but also because I keep losing things, it’s fairly light. We really can live and thrive with less than we think.
Our first stop today was in Navarette and like many of the small towns, it had a church. I am not lying when I say that I walked in and loudly gasped. I then lit a candle and was surprised to find myself praying that I get the opportunity to become a mother someday. The prayer was out before I could overthink it.
The rest of the walk today was through when country and so I had grapes for lunch. The ones that had fallen off the vine.
“Is this really my life right now?” I wondered.
Like yesteday, I waddled like a penguin and limped for the last 3 km into town. The bottoms of my feet were so sore. Like I was walking barefoot on rocks.
But now I’m showered and soon to be well fed, and another day on the Camino is in the books.
Camino life is simple and I’m enjoying that. It’s a time warp, a bubble, an experience I may be trying to put into words for years to come.
That church has me swooning. An Italian guy brought you breakfast? I’ll need to know more about that. Do I need to mail panties and face wash?
I'll have to visit that church when I do the camino. I think it would make me gasp too! What a wonderful experience!