Crawling Through the Camino (Literally)
Nobody tells you about the crawling.
Day 3 was the hardest yet — a full catalogue of terrain that seemed designed to test every part of your body in rotation. Sand that swallowed your steps. Asphalt that jarred your knees into submission. Stretches of dense overgrowth so thick we had to crouch and push through, less walking the Camino and more negotiating with it. And then the adoquines — those beautiful, brutal cobblestones that look charming in photographs and feel like walking on fists. My feet were hanging on. My knee had entered the conversation in a way I didn't appreciate. And somewhere around the third terrain change I found myself doing what the Camino reliably produces: a quiet, thorough review of every life decision that led me here.
We found ourselves completely lost, no yellow arrows on site and we met Olena from Ukraine, our savior. She had this magical app, Ninja that got us to our final destination, Viana de Castelo. My walking partner Felix, talked me through most of it. I'm not sure I would have made it without them — not dramatically, just honestly. That's what a good walking partner does. They don't fix the terrain. They just make it survivable.
By the time we reached the city at the end of the day — gorgeous, as it turned out, because the Camino rewards suffering with beauty — the body was done but the spirit had rallied. Mostly thanks to food. Again.
And then came the story of the night.
Found a nice local restaurant, with the most amazing food. The wine glasses were pour to the rim. If you know you can imagine my grin :) After dinner, a guy tripped over my table. My wine went everywhere — over the table, over me, over any remaining dignity I had. The whole room erupted. Not in sympathy. In cheers. Apparently being doused in wine on the Camino is good luck. I decided to believe them wholeheartedly. The meal came free. The laugh was even better.
Day 3: nearly broken, definitely wine-soaked, and somehow still going. We ain't quitting. 💪
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