... from The End of the Earth (Fisterra, Spain)

We arrived in Santiago, and I decided to continue my journey by myself to Fisterra, "The End of the Earth." 

Traditionally, pilgrims burned their clothes on a rock that was once believed to be the western most point in Europe. It represents cleansing or newness.

I walked out to the rock to watch the sunset with about ten other pilgrims from around the world. We enjoyed a picnic and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and community.

I didn't burn anything, nor do I believe half my sins have been forgiven on this pilgrimage. But I do really like walking... still!

... from As Seixas, Spain

In the last thirty days, I've only slept in the same bed two nights in a row once. 

Pilgrims sleep in albergues, random buildings converted into hostels.

We've stayed in train stations, people's houses, and one night even a converted jail, usually for $6 a night. 

We've stayed in mountain towns, real cities, historic villages, beach destinations.

We've shared rooms with hundreds of strangers from dozens of countries, about half of whom sleep in their underwear and a fourth of whom snore.

I've slept on the floor and in a house that reeked of urine.

I can now sleep anywhere.

Unrelated but these are wild horses we saw on a mountain a couple of days ago.

... from Ribeseya, Spain

Miles today: 18

Miles completed: 269

Miles to go: 269 

We had our first difficult group decision to make a couple of days ago. The path split between an easier, coastal route and a more challenging inland route. 

For me, somewhat fortunately, the physical walking thus far has been relatively easy. What's surprised me is how hard it is psychologically to always maintain a good mood and prioritize each other's needs. To get to Santiago, we need everyone to be physically and emotional functional. 

Once again, we've chosen the harder path. We're going inland and I think ultimately it's the good way for everyone. More importantly, we're all still friends! 

We'll miss the ocean, of course, but we're excited about gorgeous mountain views on the inland route 

... from Güemas, Spain

Everyone says you have to stop in Güemas. The hospitalera, Ernesto, is just so nice.

It's easy for the volunteer Hospitaleras to get frustrated with the constant stream of pilgrims. We arrive stinky, exhausted and hungry. We ask dozens of questions, often in poor Spanish.

Today, we were greeted with smiles,  glasses of water, and cookies. The accommodation, massages and group meals are donation-based. Even though he's not here, Ernesto is making The Way so much easier.

It reminds me that we make choices about how to treat tired, annoying   pilgrims around us everyday.  And how much that can matter.

We saw this sign posted on the gate of a random house in a village today. While the translation is poor, the sentiment is amazing.

... from Lezama, Spain

Day: 6 (June 3)

Miles Today: 12

Total Miles Completed: 75 (roughly)

We're learning what "Camino friends" are. 

 I'm hiking with two other Americans close to my age. Although most of the pilgrims are European and older than us,  they've embraced us. We cook each other dinner. We do laundry together. We know each other's physical weaknesses and daily check-in with "How's your knee?" or "Do your feet feel any better today?" 

Maybe voluntarily putting your body through pain is a bonding experience. Maybe the kind of person who uses their vacation days to go on a spiritual pilgrimage is just super kind. And the cheap but delicious Spanish wine certainly doesn't hurt. 

... from San Sebastián, Spain

Day: 1 (May 29)

Miles Today: 15

Just after we began, The Camino offered us a choice-- the good way or the other way. The good way began with what our guide book described as a "brutal ascent," but had an ancient fort and towers surrounded by gorgeous ocean and mountains. The other way was easier, but less spectacular.

We chose the good way. It was rough. A fog set over, and we couldn't see anything anyway. 

When explaining the trip we're on to other travelers, we are asked, "WHY would you do that?" 

I'm still not exactly sure. But it seems like choosing the good way. 

... from Madrid, Spain

This morning I visited El Museo Tiflológico, the Blind Museum. Everything inside could be touched. Pieces included famous landmarks at 1/200th of their original size. This allowed me to imagine what it would be like to visit places like the Taj Mahal and the Eifel Tower if I were A) blind and B) a giant.

The highlight for me was the replica of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the end destination of our hike.

Which makes me wonder: would it be easier or harder to hike the 500 miles if I were blind and 200 times my current size? (Comments Welcome)

If everything goes according to plan, you'll see the real one in about 37 days.

... from Columbia, MO

I'm back!

I've decided to hike a 500 mile trail across Spain: El Camino de Santiago. Christians have been hiking it in veneration of St. James and to score points with God since the Middle Ages.  It also inspired the Olle Path where Andrew and I spent our happiest moments in Korea.

Not surprisingly, I've decided to go last-minute. The last weeks have been a blur of training, reviewing Spanish and buying hiking gear.

I know stories about other people's hike are inherently boring, but I do have a 100 word limit. Plus this way you'll know I'm still alive...

Fifteen pounds of stuff and two feet

(I spent way more time choosing the backpack then deciding to go on the trip)