Endless Hills and a Forest That Felt Like Magic
The streets from yesterday were apparently just a warm up.
Day 8 delivered hills that had no business being that long. The kind where you crest what you're certain is the top, only to find another slope waiting behind it with absolutely no apology. Up, up, up — legs burning, lungs negotiating, mind doing that thing where it goes completely blank just to cope. Beautiful cities waited at the end of each climb like a promise the Camino kept making and somehow kept delivering.
And then, without warning, flat ground.
A forest path appeared — wide, green, impossibly quiet — and something in the whole body exhaled at once. After days of sand, asphalt, cobblestones, jungle crawls and vertical streets, walking through trees on even ground felt almost luxurious. The light came through in that particular way forests have, dappled and unhurried, and for a long stretch there was nothing to do but be completely, uncomplicated happy.
The people here have that quality too — a warmth and ease that gets into you if you let it. By this point in the walk my heart had stopped asking questions and just opened. New friends from the Netherlands and the United States found their way into the day, as people keep doing on this road.
And then the hotel. Tucked into the forest like it had grown there — a hidden gem that felt less like an accommodation and more like a reward. The kind of place you'd never find unless the Camino led you directly to it.
Magical is the only word. My heart was so full. 💜
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