First, a quick reminder: I am writing from my phone to help me practice an economy of words. Also, there may be more errors than I would prefer.
- I trusted my travel cunning and had a little planning to arrive at the Camino’s beginning (and my “cunning” is one of my great weaknesses.). Getting from Portland to St. Jean Pied de Port took an excruciating 3 full days of planes, buses and walking. It was a veritable John Candy movie of problem solving.
- The result meant I arrived on the morning of the first having not been horizontal in days and having not eaten a proper meal. But that didn’t deter my hubris (second only to cunning among my follies), and I set out on the trail immediately upon arrival, without even stopping to find a proper snack. And for the record, the entire first day is uphill, nonstop.
- I was changing my wardrobe more often than a rock n’ roll diva on tour to account for the variety of weather and my sweating through multiple layers.
- I experienced an exciting spectrum of Camino walking surfaces: asphalt, mud, grass and a surprisingly abundant thin layer of manure.
- Early friendships abound: Aussies, Kiwis, Germans, a handful of Yanks and one particularly plucky Italian. I can only imagine the spectrum of nationalities that will stoop to call me “friend.”
This last photo I like to call, “I started down there.” With a subtitle “Was I thinking clearly?”