Getting Started
Walking The Camino
Spain
October 2012
I am on the public bus, heading to my starting point on the
Camino de Santiago de St James. The
Camino is over 500 miles but I am only walking about 62 miles, 1000Km from
Santiago. The bus will drop me off with
the other 50 hikers with me. I appear to be the only American. I base this assumption on the fact that
everyone is in short, shorts that seem as if they will have chapped thighs
after ten minutes of walking. They are
smoking cigarettes and eating blocks of cheese.
Their hiking shoes are regular street shoes. some of them are wearing
crew socks. Others are not wearing any
socks. None of them went to Eastern Mountain Sporting Store to prepare for this
trip.
The bus pulls in to the terminal in the center of town and
everyone hurries to gather their things. I am in the first seat so I exit
first. I stop to tie my walking shoes
and gather my things. I get my small backpack properly adjusted on my
back. The waist belt is secured and I am
ready to start. It is my intention to
stay with the pack of hikers until they start to walk too fast. But at least, I can hang with them to make
sure I get started on the right path.
As I finish my preparation, I look around and see that
everyone is gone. They seem to have
vanished into thin air. I don’t see one singular hiker. And I can not even see any evidence of a
hiking trail in this little, quaint, picturesque town.
Shit, shit, shit. Now what??????
I ask a few people if they can direct me to the starting
point. In their broken English skills,
they give me some ideas of the general direction of the path. I begin to walk and ask directions every ten
yards. I am told to follow the scallop
shells that are strategically placed along the entire trail. So I search earnestly for these damn shells. I proceed with cautious confidence.
An old man calls to me, “Camino, Camino, Camino” and points
in the opposite direction. I wave to him
and ignore him as I am following shells embedded in the side walk. A car pulls
up beside me and a young woman sticks her head out the window, “Are you walking
the Camino?”
“Yes I am,” I tell her in my pleasant voice.
“You are heading the wrong way,” she informs me.
“But I am following the shells,” I respond somewhat
defensively.
“No, they are the wrong shells. Merchants put them in the sidewalk to lead
you to their stores. You have to follow
the shells that are posted on a pole.
Want me to take you to the entrance point?” she kindly asked.
“Yes,” I respond in defeat and a little humiliation. I get in the car and sink down a little bit
as we pass the old man. She drops me
off. I shake off this set back and start
again with a new confidence. I am
walking the Camino de Santiago de Saint James.
