The Camino de Santiago de Saint James

In 2010,  I had just retired and looking forward to having the freedom to travel as will. But my arthritis was getting so bad that I could barely walk anymore.  I contemplated getting a cane.  I was in chronic pain and I blamed myself.  I had to take control of this situation that I caused over the last 30 years. So in 2011, I lost 50 damn pounds, the equivalent to a small 8 year old.  I was pretty damn proud of myself.

To celebrate my success, I decided to walk 50 miles on the Camino, a mile for every pound I had lost.  This was to be a remarkable feat for me because I don't think I had walked more than 1/2 mile at any one time in the last 20 years.

I have been familiar with the Camino for about that long a period of time.  My sister used to live in northern Spain and we would often see the hikers as we drove around that countryside.  With great delight, I would occasionally and shameless shout out to the hikers, as we drove by in our car, :Hey, it's a lot faster if you drive it."  I thought this was funny every obnoxious time I did this.  But in the back of my mind, I always thought I wanted to try this walk.  But I never believe I could even attempt it.

So now, it is late Fall 2011 and I book a flight to Santiago, Spain.  I have a small backpack, a walking stick and good intentions.  I am unprepared to walk as I have done no training.  I thought if I trained, I would get too tired and talk myself out of making this journey.  It was do or die for me.  Well, I didn't think I was really going to die on the journey.  But I had resolved in my mind that I would be willing to pay big bucks to hire a taxi and head to the airport at any time the harsh reality of defeat crept up over me and won.

I started at marker 100K away from Santiago.  That is about 62 miles out from my destination: the Cathedral of St. James.  I board a bus with 50 other hikers (pilgrims) and we are dropped off at our starting point.  We are to follow painted scallop shells posted along out way.  I am the first one out of the bus and I stop for just a second to adjust my shoes and my bra and when I look up, everyone is gone.  There is a no trace of any one hiking the Camino.

I look around and finally find a scallop shell so I walk forward with confidence.  An old man shouts to me and points in a direction to the east,  "Camino, Camino!!" I ignore him, writing him off as a senile, old grandfather. After all, I am following the damn scallop shells.

A few minutes later, a driver pulls over.  "Are you walking the Camino?", she asks.  Then she tells me that I am going the wrong way.  She drives me to my starting point.  Apparently, there is a scallop shell that denotes the walk and other scallop designs is used by merchants to sell their Camino tour trinkets.  Now I know. This should be an adventurous journey.