Camino Diary
JULY
17 monday
Hey Jude, Paris is beautiful, despite the rain. However, arriving was not quite as beautiful, my legs were blackened by the city street, and the polluted river flowed as the rain fell. Disgusted and intrigued by the harsh hostility of human imprint on the streets, I found comfort in the permeating smell of cigarette smoke. It provided me with a quiet thought. I felt myself contemplating those collective embers of flame, questioning if they could swallow the world. Flame smoldering into that familiar smoke. Finding solace in my vision of a charred civilization, I try to escape my chaotic surroundings. Yet, in this youth hostel, I feel an odd discomfort. I feel self-conscious of my inhibitions in this small, dusty room filled with strangers and surrounded by the childish protection of my mom’s soothing conversation. Still, dimly lit with drunken cheers, I stumbled upon someone I’d like to know. A simple guy from Wisconsin who strums his guitar gently. I wonder if I’ll remember his face. I don’t know though, this time in France has left me indifferent. It’s a fragmented piece of life that has recently been added to me.
18 tuesday
Hey Jude, around 5:00 today, I felt as if the weight and stress of the world had left my shoulders and flew into the mist. Hearing Erik, this former pilgrim, speak was absolutely beautiful. He seemed to be recounting experiences in a dream, saying that we are all sleeping, naïve walkers until we embark on our final destination and truly become pilgrims. I hope he is right, and that some form of existentially lost truth suddenly and inexplicably awakens within me by the time my journey has ended. Sometimes I feel like life is an awkward succession of random nothings—I know, I know, I sound like an angsty teenager who doesn’t yet grasp the complexity of life. But I really don’t know myself, I think about the living, breathing me and sense an unmistakable disconnection with her. Anyways, he warned that once the pilgrims of the world fall back into their former lives, with their reinvigorated perception of the world, they will feel saddened by the sameness in which “walkers” reside. Feeling the warmth of an exciting new beginning, I doubt I’ll forget this day—the people I’ve met and the stories I’ve heard will never cease to intrigue me. The sudden and meaningful connections I’ve made with virtual strangers fascinates me—the fact that I might never see them again scares me. So, I will repeat their names and memorize their faces: Adam, Erik, Benan, Sean. I will embrace the present; absorb it. It is a moment in time perpetually etched into my memory.
19 wednesday
Hey Jude, today was, eventful—if anything. We, Mami and I, had gotten lost for almost an hour and had to journey a steep upward slope to remain on track. This is not before being nearly attacked by unproportionately large dogs. Keep in mind the fact that I am a small, timid 14-year-old, combating a cold that refuses to go away—walking in the ceaseless rain. To say the absolute least, I felt my knees go weak, as my fear became a terror. Thankfully, my Mami is not so easily discouraged. She forcefully yelled, “¡Fuera!” at the large dogs. Surprisingly, they listened, quieted, and let us pass. Later, after an arduous climb along an earthen track, breathlessly exhausted, we finally reached the Albergue… only to discover we had arrived early. Having been told that this Albergue opened at 2:00, we waited in the cold afternoon, gathering underneath a sign for warmth. Gradually, time was approaching 3:00, restless, we walked on to Orisson (the next Albergue that co-owns our smaller, cheaper destination). My Mami was having a particularly difficult time; I slowed my pace and offered her encouragement, and with our lively symbiosis, we continued. It was at Orisson that we were told that the gate keeping us from warmth was rusted and old—we needed only to pull on the gate harder and we would be able to sleep there for a sum of 15 Euros. My Mami was livid-she frantically coughed up the money and moaned about the stupidity of man and their incapacity to post signs. When we got back, we settled into the small cottage-like setting and relaxed. As time passed, fellow pilgrims found the little Albergue, we bonded over shared pasta and hummus, a surprisingly amazing combination. I feel optimistic despite this awkward start. I don’t know, I guess this trip is an adventure: complete with both pain and beauty.
20 thursday
Hey Jude though today wasn’t nearly as conflicting or eventful as yesterday, that didn’t make it any less meaningful. Today, I felt something I’ve rarely felt in suburbia—peace. Today, in the span of a single moment, all the physical and mental pain I’ve ever felt seemed to fly from my being into the cold mountain air-detached and severed, I felt anew. If only for a moment. Even now, having walked nineteen kilometers to find refuge in this oasis, I can’t clearly remember the teeth-chattering cold or my aching feet—I only remember that one moment. It is a frozen glimpse at the true meaning of undertaking a five-hundred-mile journey—more importantly, it is a glimpse of the raw character of life. That moment is the very definition of happiness. Yesterday, I questioned my being here. Why the Camino, the cold? Now, I know.
21 friday
Sweat, tears, rain, and muck poured down my face today. I’d take nineteen over twenty-two kilometers any day. I can honestly say that it’s a struggle writing today. The rain had made our trail incredibly muddy; the sheer steepness of the mountain was borderline oppressive. Still, I couldn’t help but appreciate the genuine, unadulterated beauty of the forest. I respect the dangerous harmony of the wilderness. Still, it’s kind of amazing how my body has refueled in such a relatively short amount of time. When we arrived at this Albergue, all I wanted was to collapse into a never-ending state of rest. Now, however, all I feel is light lethargy. I even feel like walking around, exploring what this small pueblo has to offer. Well, off to talk with Sabina, my conversations with her keep me stimulated—bye!
22 saturday
Hey Jude, oddly, today was much easier than yesterday’s camino, though we covered more distance. I think the definitive change was the fact that I walked confidently, with a stride that contrasts my earlier steps of inhibited burden. Also, my cold has finally gone away—I can breathe with ease again. We ended our walk at Pamplona today, and the city hustle that usually leaves me feeling like a lonely outsider gave me a sense of purpose in its bright, lively atmosphere. Mami and I strolled around the beauty of the city and shared a coffee in the park. Watching kids play tag while being engulfed by the collective hum of chatter made me feel at home. Sadly, by looking at our map, I can see that hell awaits us tomorrow. Compared to our paved roads and gentle hills, the jagged trail ahead is unwelcome. Still, I feel refreshed by the beautiful scenery. I try to immerse myself in the present because these are the days of the Camino that I’ll remember long after our odyssey has ended.
23 sunday
Hey Jude, I don’t think I’m going to separate from my mom to walk at my own pace anymore. Today, I arrived at the albergue at two… four hours later, my mom got there. Being alone, with no money, I waited-worried. Still, I met some beautiful people, making me feel safe and less discouraged. I feel as if this ever-winding trail holds a family. Still, it’s barely been a week and countless faces fade through momentary glimpses at the past-people slip away just as new members abruptly join. With every silent step, the bonds we make slowly disappear as people weave in and out of each other’s lives. It’s like a breathtaking peak being worn down grain by grain until it becomes something else entirely.
24 monday
Hey Jude, joder! We met two Spanish guys and now this will be my new catchphrase. Mami had a really hard day today, and I felt really bad for her. It’s hard for me to imagine the pain she’s going through. She truly is a woman of strength and I admire her. Even before the Camino, this trip went up and down… Is it going to happen? But she fought to be here only to fight the physical turbulence of this journey. Life has brought her and me here to experience and meditate on its very meaning. As we find peace within ourselves, we find peace in others as well.
25 tuesday
Hey Jude, today I walked with Javi and Ignacio which was bien guay. Ignacio reminds me of Woody Allen because of his glasses… honestly, I had a lot of fun just listening to their conversations. The people you meet on this journey really make you feel at home. I met this one guy Sam; he seemed so sheltered and closed off from the experience. His shyness crippled him. What matters most is that I try to make everyone feel like a family. The people you share material possessions with make life worth it, not the accumulation of things.
26 wednesday
Hey Jude, today I got to meet an amazing person, Joeren, who has been walking the Camino since Holland! He has reached 2,000 km, and it’s his 80th day tomorrow. I can’t believe that someone can have so much persistence and strength—to walk so long in so much solitude. Mami was so impressed that she cooked for him! I think this has been my favorite day of the camino so far.
27 thursday
Hey Jude, for some reason, Logroño didn’t give me the life Pamplona had. It was so modern and industrial. It was filled with masses of people and I felt lost, existentially. This is how I feel in every city…I don’t know why, but I feel more whole with peace—gaining energy and life from an intimate conversation. In the city, I feel an overwhelming chaos of good and bad polarities. They fumbled into my happiness and train of thought, crashing loudly into the walls of this tranquility. This Camino has taught me the beauty of quiet and the ability to feel the energy of an area. I feel this is both a beautiful yet dangerous capacity because when I come home or once this journey is over, I will feel damaged and broken inside.
28 friday
Hey Jude, the kilometers go by faster in good company. I walked with this one group while talking and laughing as well as listening with an open mind. It was special… like walking with Javi and Ignacio. I felt alive. Still, I don’t know if this journey is spent with more meaning alongside friendly faces or in deep meditation. I love the quietness of turning all the pain and distractions off while listening to the consistent in and out of my breath. It’s beautiful but it takes time to get to this point and only lasts 10-20 minutes. I guess I feel that they are unique and separate moments of the camino which operate in harmony. You need to stimulate yourself with energy to wander the difficult path to inner peace.
29 saturday
Hey Jude, today I had gotten lost as I sang to myself… I wasn’t looking where I was going because I was immersed in the melody of music and happiness I was in. It took me a kilometer to realize something in me had gone quiet and the path was wrong. I felt it. I was scared and miserably alone. I tried to stay strong but I felt tears choking me, getting stuck together as I gasped for breath. Then, I felt these words calming me, telling me to breathe in the deep blue of the sky and the various shades of green in the nature around me. Everything was going to be okay, and it was. A bit later, when a smile came to my face, I found familiar faces and I thanked the voice that kept me strong.
30 sunday
Hey Jude, today was gorgeous and the people illuminated the same life and beauty they always have. Still, at some point today I felt my laughter go hollow, empty. I was listening, but I couldn’t hear. I felt so disconnected, so dead inside. The nothingness spread into my soul, it felt cold as it traveled through me, and once it reached my heart it was as if I had broken beyond repair. There was no blue or green to breathe in. It had the putrid essence of nothingness. My mami, right now, is in pain and usually I feel something. When George dances I smile. When Yasmin sits with me I usually feel at home. When I feel Damien’s presence I feel calm. I felt nothing. Like an echo or shadow of my spirit.
JULY
1 monday
Hey Jude, today I felt much more in tune with the light around me. I felt this because of the life that encompassed me. It was as if the sun had shone its essence on the forest so that the shadow of its leaves and the unique color of the rocks could create this beautiful mosaic. It was mesmerizing. I don’t give the wander of my feelings justice with these words. It was quite simply, in every aspect of the word, beautiful. Yesterday I was hopeless and more than anything cold and heartless, but right now, I feel alive as I listen to the birds which sing their welcome.
2 tuesday
Hey Jude, I don’t think I’ve taken the proper time to truly describe how beautiful and amazing people I’ve met on this journey are. Yasmin is full of life: she’s smart and beautiful with this wonderful energy that has opened me up to this group. I don’t think I’ll ever forget lying on the floor and looking at the stars, just talking, listening to the Smiths. Then, you have George who is the funniest person I’ve ever met (just chillin’ like Bob Dylan sippin’ penicillin). He’s made every conversation feel like home. They are what happiness and comfort feel like. But Damien is something different, he’s peace. He’s an old friend that I’ve just met, and he’s someone who never judges anyone. He just accepts and loves. Now, Sophie is a bit loopy, but I have definitely come to love her like a sister. And now, these people are engraved in my thoughts; they’ve become family.
3 wednesday
Hey Jude, the beauty of love was so powerful today. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt love so strong: it came in the clouds swirling above my head, I first felt it in the singing of the birds when I was walking with Damien. Later, it just came to me in waves throughout the day. It was as if my soul had, for the first time, become alive because of the power and energy I was receiving. However, it left me when my mami was in pain. She was so low that I felt low, sick—I could feel it. Tears came to her eyes; I heard the agony in her voice. Still, even at her worst, when she said she couldn’t go any further in the heat of the meseta, this breathtaking burst of wind came through—it was meant for her, it was love.
4 thursday
Hey Jude, today we saw breathtaking ruins, the sky was the most beautiful shade of blue I had ever seen, and doves flew through the broken windows of solitude, and then in groups, and by themselves once again—spinning in circles, coming together and apart again. It reminded me of past reflections on happiness and love. The mind leaves these beautiful perceptions to crumble in a broken incompleteness, and still, once they’ve been revisited, we soar through them. This experience has been absolutely amazing, so full of life. But then, I had to leave the wonderful ruins and walk towards the town, the church. All I could feel was this dark energy. It made me sick to my stomach. Immediately, all I wanted to do was let my tears fall, but I kept my rationality. As soon as I created an effort to not cry, a gnat went into my eye. This wave of raw emotional pain completely consumed my everything once I let that tear fall. Distress completely overtook me, and left me disembodied.
5 friday
Hey Jude, the contrasts of today were unique and unforgettable. I felt at peace with the quiet rhythm of my steps as I basked in the light blue of the sky and the dancing ocean of wheat. The birds sang for me and the wind made me feel harmony. It was the most perfect moment I’ve felt in the Camino. Later, we had the pleasure of walking along this great canal and canopy of trees just as the sun reached its most violent. The gusts of wind and the blessing of shade were incredibly beautiful. We were so grateful that Mami and I said gracias to the universe for giving us such a wonderful experience. I feel like everything I saw today was a reflection of the meaning of this journey.
6 saturday
Hey Jude, meeting up with Damien for the first time in days gave me harmony. When I asked him about the dark energy I’d felt, he told me I was protected and to send my spirit love in times of pain. I can’t explain why, but when he’s near, I feel safe and happy. My soul has been so sad, and I’ve felt depressed lately. I don’t understand my own quiet desperation. And still, I have so much light in me, I can feel it. I felt it today as I thought of a person who has given me peace. I miss her but then feel this sinking hole when I have her in my thoughts.
7 sunday
Hey Jude, the monotonous walk was much easier in company. I think this journey, and life in general is supposed to be spent in the light of others. There is beauty in sharing. Sharing the laughter; sharing pain; walking alongside friends. After the walk, my Mami and Damien tried to get me to speak to my ‘guides.’ I don’t really think I’m ready to embark on a spiritual path yet because I always allow my mind to doubt my feelings and intuitions. But I know I did feel my hands shaking with energy, and that there is something to Damien’s rituals… I’m just conflicted.
8 monday
Hey Jude, I feel broken, ripped in half by the goodbyes uttered between friends. I know that these people shouldn’t act as an anchor of happiness… because people, leave. And yet, being with Sophie, Yasmin, Damien, and George has been the most joyful experience of my life. I typically don’t let people in—I keep a cold detachment to friends back home. I shelter myself from feeling this brokenness. But I’m happy at home––I live in this perpetual cage masked away, pretending to feel, but I’ll take the pain over the numbness as of now.
9 tuesday
Hey Jude, today was quiet, it wasn’t the usual explosion of life and conversation of before. Still, it wasn’t a deep painful incision of silence. It is a day that just was. A couple of laughs with Daniel and a midday nap…floating in and out of slumber. A tiredness I’ve never known, induced by the relentless sun. Even as I write now, I feel myself drifting in and out of these words, searching for something more substantial, something more fluid. This feeling of absence and detachment leaves me with guilt. There is a lonely stab of inadequacy in my presence. It’s not fair for me or the people I’m with to become this shell of a person. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t wake up.
10 wednesday
Hey Jude, I sang along with Daniel and our Moms, some old Spanish songs, as we went. Then, Daniel and I talked about everything from Thoreau to TV shows. It was a good way to pass today’s twenty kilometers. But my Mami was beat by the meseta. She decided that we should take the bus to León. At first, I felt saddened by the thought of losing a day of the journey to half an hour of modern transportation. Since the beginning, I’ve loved the joy of the way… but I see how mami is suffering and she really does deserve a day off. She has been so strong despite the physical pain. Sometimes, when I see the pain in her face, I feel another stab of quilt for pushing so hard. I need to slow down and understand and embrace her limitations––to help her through them. Overall, I just need to stop being selfish.
11 thursday
Hey Jude, for an hour and a half, I listened to the beauty of my music at full volume. We’re taking a rest day in León, and I can’t help but getting sucked into this sinking feeling of utter chaos in the midst of people––a sea of different energies. But I decided not to follow my mom into the chaos, and instead am consumed by the melodies, making me feel more at peace. I let it swallow me as my sobs choked me, and after this, I just let it go. I found the rhythm of my breath until I had enough energy to sing, to dance. Happiness followed by absolute peace. It came to me because of the life of my songs.
12 friday
Hey Jude, the walk out of León was grueling and long but once we were in the desolate beauty of the meseta, I felt an awe incapable of description. It was as if I was in one of Van Gogh’s paintings: back home I’d tried to imagine the hot wind in the paint. Today, I was living within the frame, hidden somewhere within the canvas. It was absolutely mesmerizing. Then, once we’d reached the albergue, I felt the awe of something different––the awe that one gets from a connection to the intrinsic web of pilgrims. The walls of this albergue was a canvas, touched by the palms of brothers and sisters with drawings and names written on every inch of the place. Once we embark on our journey we also form an unbreakable bond of family.
13 saturday
Hey Jude, the storm’s energy was empowering. The wind blew violently––in this beautiful intangible danger. I felt a fire ignite in my heart. As the life in the storm gave me this unspoken, hidden joy, I began to hear the sobs of the wind––the dust and leaves dancing around the growing whimper. It was the most captivating yet solemn display of nature that I’ve ever seen. It looked like my soul. I saw myself in the light-gray darkness around me. I see myself dancing as I cry and accept my ability to see.
14 sunday
Hey Jude, resting beneath the protective shade provided by this beautiful oak reminded me of being hugged by my Papi. It was cool and inviting––an oasis from the heat. It was peace. The power of the tree poured into its visitors––gave them strength. It was the light of today’s journey, feeling nature’s welcome of shade and joyous music that came with the birds and rustling of the leaves. Everything rejoiced with the beauty––everything in tune with one another in harmony. Today’s tune had a rhythm of love and connectedness, everybody was together again.
15 monday
Hey Jude, the gentle yellow among purple that dotted the beautiful mountainside sent chills down my spine. Mountains are made for the self––to bask in the clean air. To just take in that deep breath, in and out. That’s all that matters. Listening to your own steady steps, to hear the wind passing, as if nature and you are going at the same rhythm in this unspoken unison. I could spend the rest of my life walking in this peace. I know it is impossible to replicate this harmony with the earth, that this moment will disappear into the past.
16 tuesday
Hey Jude, in the very back of my mind, whispers of worry cloud me. And it truly was beautiful. Cherry trees dotted the landscape and mountains hid in the background. But once we’d gotten to our endpoint, all of the day’s worry exploded. Still, I was comforted by my camino family and we walked the eleven km among the blood-orange sky. It was so amazing that I let the hurt and anxiety go. My brokenness left me because I’d been glued together by the love of my friends and the changing colors of the sky. I breathed it in.
17 wednesday
Hey Jude, we walked among darkness––the smell of death and pain looming over any happiness. Its origin came from a small decaying thing. Being eaten alive, broken down to nothing––its putridness permeated into the good and light of this once living creature. I’ve never seen, with my own eyes, the solemnness of death. The parasitic maggots feeding off the remaining corpse left the body mangled, fragmented, and torn from this world. Only this morbid sense of diatheses was left. It was ink on a blank page. This made my heart twinge, submit to the hurt, the pain. It makes me sick, the presence of such strong darkness. I don’t know how to let it go.
18 thursday
Hey Jude, my intense emotional pain seeped into all the love and beauty of the morning. It stabbed the light as dark corruption crept, agonizingly slow, into my frame of thought. It reached my soul, corroded it. Everything had this aura of hate and hurt. My tears poured down. I simply couldn’t reason with my inability to stop crying; I could not take in the blue and the green. I became this fragmented being. Made of sadness. Yet, my Mami spoke and sang to me with light in her heart. I slowly came back to life. She brought me back and I could feel the beauty calling back to me again.
19 friday
Hey Jude, the day was filled with the beauty and solitude of the forest, the smell of pine permeated through the air, and filled my body with freshness. It was mesmerizing, this intangible connection with the earth. Then, once we’d finished walking, we found a park with music and townspeople. We danced with the rhythm of the beat and laughed together as we rested our bodies. In the light of the stars, we started up again. The deep blue of the sky was a body of water––I was drowning in the cool blueness of it all. When we reached the 100 km mark, we sat down and drank in our glory. I got to see a banner of clouds waving across the moon in this wonderful dance as I fell asleep. It was the most amazing night of my life.
20 saturday
Hey Jude, the morning was a misty, damp cloud of groggy faces trying to wipe the sleep from their eyes. And yet, I felt like singing about the cool weather, ready for the coming day. I loved yesterday, below the moon, giving me strength––not beating me down as the sun does. I found it difficult to feel so happy and carefree while everyone else seemed to struggle to keep their energy. Still, it was beautiful; I’m just sad it’ll soon come to an end.
21 sunday
Hey Jude, instead of an intimate family gathering surrounding the hearth, today was an unpleasant dinner party––crowded and loud, music blaring as a headache settles in. Galicia is different from the beauty I’ve found in this camino. The laughs among friends fade with unfamiliar new faces. They don’t smile, they fight for the bed, the endpoint, instead of enjoying the journey. And once the journey becomes sad, miserable pain––not a reflection of the self or an altogether new self, living in joy—the life of the family and brotherhood dies. It becomes cold and lifeless. Tomorrow we take the bus to Finisterre––the end of the world, my beginning.
22 monday
Hey Jude, it is a sad beauty to feel the end between my toes, the grains of sand fleeting as the memories of this journey race in my mind. Hearing the sea churning waves of new and old, they crash together, distorting the truth, giving birth to a memory. This camino has taught me so much, in so many ways––I never want to forget the lessons of happiness and simplicity this journey has brought me. The new yet fleeting friendships. The kindness of a smile when there is an emptiness inside. Even the pain was beautiful. I will keep these memories close.
