Stages 10- 15 with a Break Day

Needless to say that since my last post a lot of things have changed, some for the better and some for the worse, as they normally do. So I will simply start where I left off.

For the most part things have remained the same; we get up, we walk, we eat, we chat, we walk some more, we get to the end of the stage, find residence, eat, wander, sleep, repeat. Along the way we have picked up some friends who have stayed regular in our journey. We have the California father/ son pair, a happenstance 3rd degree Kenyan that knows some of the same people as David from home, two teachers from New Jersey who we affectionately call the “Jersey Girls”, a couple from Georgia, and an Irishman and German man who have only just met on this trip and act like an old married couple. These are only to name a few but have remained the ones that we frequent walking, talking, and “living” with. We have become a sort of family.

Very often when we reach a café or a bar for breakfast it turns into a big family reunion as we all show up separately sooner or later and leave as a muddled group that splits up only to later catch up once again.

I had mentioned before how difficult it was, or rather different, to walk with other people. I have since grown accustomed to it and prefer it because it tends to make time fly by, which is quite handy during the hot dry days crossing the meseta and your walking partner has some sweet tunes to get you through the last 10km of a 95°F, 31km day.

On a separate note; I have sad news to report. We have lost Betsy. Not lost as in something has happened to her, but lost as in she has left us to go back to the real world. The night before she left, several of us had gathered in the little town of Agés to celebrate anything we could. Our reasons included the California son and I have birthdays exactly one week apart, mourning Betsy leaving, surviving this far mostly injury free, and primarily because we could. The Jersey Girls gifted the birthday kids with Camino shells and gummy candies (which I should probably find and eat soon). There was much laughter and fun conversation to fill the evening with smiles and send us to our beds with happy hearts.

The next day walking into Burgos was an adventure in the least. The walk in was quite fun and pretty, I was in a good mood, until we hit the outskirts of town. Somehow we needed to get Betsy to the train station one way or another. We stopped to Google where exactly that was relative to our present location and found that it was 5.7km away. Easy peasy, right? Wrong. We ended up walking under the relentless sun through several industrial city parts, in between warehouses, through sketchy looking streets. It was rough. At one point Betsy and I started to become delirious, laughing, stopping, even wondering. It took all that David had to keep us going along the never ending awfulness that was the outskirts of Burgos. When we made it to the station, Betsy went to ensure she had a ticket and David and I promptly assumed our positions and took a nap. In the middle of the station. She later woke us up so that we could enjoy our last meal and cervezas and sent her on her way.

Since then we have continued our way, with a few adjustments of course. So to end this blog post I have decided to make a list of things I have learned so far in Spain:

• Women's bathrooms are always missing at least one vital piece of hygiene management (toilet paper, paper towels, soap, lock, or even the toilet seat)
• Speaking of bathroom locks, I have locked myself in too many than I would like to admit. If I were to not come home, it would be because I'm stuck in a bathroom somewhere in Spain without any one of things I mentioned previously
• Siestas are a thing. And they a both wonderful and annoying at the same time.
• Only words you need to know in Spain: Cerveza, Helado, Hola, Buen Camino, and Gracias.
• The worst parts of a walk are any time before there is coffee, and the last two hours before your stop.
• Don't leave your sleep sack in a bathroom. You will be screwed and grossed out when sleeping any time after.
• Time flies when you do nothing. Getting to the albergue, checking in, showering, washing clothes, eating, hanging out with friends. Before you know it it's lights out!
• You see more people on the streets that you know in a foreign country then you do when you are home
• Connections are everywhere: humans are associated to one another in so many ways. It's simply astonishing.
• I love people. The people you meet on the trail, in the albergues and town are some of the best humans you could ever have the pleasure of knowing.
• Everyone are Wi-Fi junkies. Find a good Wi-Fi spot and stay. But also Wi-Fi is so much more accessible here. Except on the albergues and hotels.
• Flies are everywhere due to the vast amount of live stock roaming around.
• Shepard's are still a thing. And cool to watch.
• I will restate that fresh orange juice, coffee, and Spanish tortillas make the world go round.
• Laundry is a must. If you don't do it then God bless the people around you, specifically their noses.
• If you can do 31.1km in 95°F with no shade, then nothing in the world could stop you.
• It's fun to wing it sometimes.
• Switching shoes and foot support makes all the difference in the world on a long day
• Vaseline + feet before walking → prevention of blisters
• Get blisters early, sucks for you, you are bound to struggle
• You get used to walking and that's what you do. Walk, walk, walk, and walk some more. And it's the best thing to every happen to you in your life.

That's it for now. Hopefully I'll keep on it, but no guarantees.