walking

why?

When i first learned about the Camino i was 20 years old. It was 2014 and i was on a rock climbing trip in Tahoe. My friend Jesse told me about his pilgrimage and i genuinely don’t think i had ever heard the word pilgrim outside of the context of Thanksgiving. People still go on spiritual journeys like this in modern day? That really attracted me and i thought i would like to do that someday. The Camino resurfaced for me in 2017 when i was living in Portland and i dreamed about this walk. I remember telling my partner at the time and they said “that’s something you can definitely do alone, i will not be joining you.” “i didn’t ask you to join me,” i thought. It’s not something i want to do with someone and a long meditative spiritual walk is not for everyone, but the desire was super strong. The timing wasn’t right and life was busy and i didn’t have the body or health or mental fortitude for something like this.

Then the Camino came back to me while i was riding the bus to work in February 2024. Actually, i was reading a book about a man’s pilgrimage on El Camino Real in California, the road that connects all the missions, the road of my childhood really. I spent so much time on El Camino Real and when i was little, i thought it was super cool that this historical landmark was like just the road that i drove to school. In high school, it was the road that after midnight all the lights would flash yellow so i could speed down it on my way home.

The routine of the city is a lot for me. It is very fast paced and not very reflective. The sense to walk and to be quiet was so loud i could not ignore it. So i made up my mind and when i make a decision I will see it through.

So here i am.

In 2014 when i was 20 years old i had no idea what the next decade was going to present to me. In that three day climbing trip when i learned about the Camino i ate three protein bars, only. There were stirrings of demons inside me that I wouldn’t be able to contain with my 20 year old self. The following years presented me with obstacles and challenges that i wouldn’t wish on anyone. I have nothing but gratitude for every single day of my life that i’ve lived to this point, because every single moment brought me to who i am today. The relationship that i have with myself and my body and my ability and my courage is so strong. I feel i can do anything, maybe sometimes like too much. For example, arriving and Sebastian yesterday without any plan, i immediately felt a little bit nervous and kind of lonely too. But i am OK, and i am here to feel it all.

I could also just not do this, ya know?

So, here are some reasons why i walk…

When i walk, i feel closest to god.

This walk is a celebration of life. It’s a celebration of this body. It’s a celebration of the anima inside me, the animation that propels me forward, and this unconditional love that my body has taught me.

This is for the people who loved me before i knew how to love myself.

This walk is an intentional challenge. It’s putting myself in the face of something difficult in order to test my boundaries to test my limits. An untested system is not very trustworthy. It’s not very resilient. I’m 30 and an adult (!!) and goddamnit I want to be an adult and i want to be the best fucking adult that i can be. I want to live !!

This walk is for fun.

A Navajo/Diné traditional prayer:
source

In beauty I walk
With beauty before me I walk
With beauty behind me I walk
With beauty above me I walk
With beauty around me I walk
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again

stage 1

San Sebastián -> Txoko del peregrino”

I immediately felt better as soon as i left the city. I love cities but it is not the journey I am on right now. Nonetheless, i think i’ve paced myself well and given myself time to adjust as i slowly made my way from Paris to Madrid. I almost missed my train in Madrid, like woke up at 10:04 for a 10:35 train with an unpacked bag and metro ride away. But i made it there at 10:34 to find a delayed train still boarding. I met a lovely woman who was 75 (!) on her way to Pamplona to walk. It felt like my first step on the camino.

I got my credencial at The Good Shepherd of San Sebastián Cathedral. It felt real real, i teared up.

How is this my life?

I walked for hours alone, not really alone but with no one else around. yaknow?

The landscape is so fucking beautiful, it’s misty and there is the grandness of the ocean. I passed by farms with cows !! and sheep and goats. The birds sing and keep me company. At the top of the hill 1 hour from Orio still, i met a pilgrim and a man with a wheel barrow who invited us to stay.

It is a commune. It is veryyyyy culty feeling. Like, it is definitely a cult.

But the food is good and the shower was goooood and i ate dinner with 3 sweet pilgrims as the wood stove burned.

And now everything feels different. It’s 7:00 am, the sun has risen. I don’t have a care or a chore in the world.

I am exactly where i am supposed to be.

stage 2

Txoko -> Orio

i slept on the floor of a chapel last night in a tiny fishing village in basque country with my 3 new friends, Marina, Yuglia, and Michelle. (it turns out accustoming your body to sleeping on hard surfaces works out in the end because you can lend your sleeping pad to a friend)

it is the festival for Saint Peter and Paul, their patron saints. Father Pablo told us it’s probably better that we don’t sleep outside so they offered us the chapel.

the generosity is overwhelming.

“i thought we were going to be homeless for a night,” michelle said.

i asked us to consider the difference between “house” and “home.”

Marina, from Kyiv, told us, she was living in her basement with her family. The house shaking always, her friends would tell her she had to go. So she took her family to her friend’s house in the country, it wasn’t her house and it wasn’t her things but she had her family and they were together, they planted carrots and potatoes and onions in the garden. it wasn’t their house but it was home. She sent her daughter to Germany for some months and her daughter begged to come back, “they don’t know how good we live in Ukraine, mama”

“the difference between a house and a home,” she said.

this must be the place.

when i finally arrive at the cutest albergue i am so happy to see Richard! How could it be? he went way ahead at Santander, and he’s fast. It turns out he hurt his ankle and he’s been hobbling for some days. He was so kind to me when i was unwell, i hope i can return the favor just a smidge. it feels peculiarly coincidental that he is here and can’t walk. god… ?

it’s so insanely different now

it’s like an alternate reality

time is so different

it’s one thing to imagine being here and another thing to be in it. like so many things in life, i guess.

i am humbled.

“More Than a Woman” by The Bee Gees is playing in this tiny cafe and i am in the aerostar van with my mom and brother, we are home.

stage 3

-> Getaria

we woke up in the chapel and it was pouring rain. i slept in until 9:00, on the floor – i think this is really funny. no one wants to walk in the rain. i don’t want to walk in the rain. i have a cough, i eat a spoonful of turmeric.

i watch the rain, yann tiersen plays in my head. i think about amelie, i think about what she would do. we all have our own jesus, i guess.

i’m so excited to get out of the city and walk again and that is a great feeling. i’ll be back to the ocean soon!

a rainy day without a place to be is very strange but time passes easily in a little cafe with friends. we talk and talk, eat some lunch and the rain stops at 3:00.

we are not going anywhere fast and no one of us wants to go very far.

well, actually, i think i want to go a little far.

this is becoming my first challenge: to stay with sweet friends or to go ahead at a different pace? i have always struggled with this. am i just being difficult? am i a fucking individualistic american who can only think about myself? what do i want? what is best for me? why does it feel so selfish and inconsiderate to say what i want and need? isn’t for the group always best? let’s not psychoanalyze this too much.

i’ve brought Audre Lorde with me, “Your Silence Will Not Protect You.” she of course is writing about the oppression of black, queer, women, not little me on this very privileged journey. nonetheless, the messages ring true. “It is never easy to demand the most of ourselves, from our lives, from our work. To encourage excellence is to go beyond the encouraged mediocrity of our society”

How many ways are we socialized to be quiet? To let others speak for us?

It’s not actually that I don’t know what I want, I know I want to go on ahead, I know I have the energy for it, I’m in the sweet spot of my period now and I’m so ready to go. I have to be brave to communicate this now.

Woah this is super hard. I turn to martin for advice, he has been here before. i’m super conscious of asking for help. shouldn’t i be doing this on my own? what if i didn’t have a phone? it is so nice to not feel alone. i think tomorrow will be difficult.

speak your truth with kindnesss

stage 4:

-> Deba

i had a hard time falling asleep. my head was super loud. how can i tell these sweet people goodbye? is this the camino – make best friends for a couple days and saying goodbye? over and over? choosing your own pace? what am i rushing for? am i making a mistake to go farther and faster? what’s the hurry, if i’m not attached to a destination? My sweet friends are super interesting and have a lot of wisdom to share and Y speaks spanish so that’s super helpful. fuck, i hate that i don’t speak spanish. santana? are you sure? in what languages do we communicate matters of the heart anyway? my friends at home are all at pride – what am i doing in this tiny village? i miss people? i have people to miss? it’s not even july? time is fucking bBoNkkeRs

what if it were easy?? What if i just said, thank you, these days were super nice but i’m going to go on up ahead.

as it turns out, the truth will set us free.

i spoke to yuglia and michelle and both of them were so kind and understanding. yuglia has walked before and she is a very strong and centered person. she encouraged me to follow my way.

i think about how andy calls my bluntness, “the hammer of truth” i could soften things sometimes but this time i think i did good.

i put on my bandana, today is a farmer al moood. i start to walk alone and feel grounded and immediately know i made the right choice. i think a lot about the kind women i just met and the women in my life and the women i come from. grandma jean was the toughest lady i knew. no time for softness, not the cookie-baking kind of grandma. the cigarette-smoking, no-bullshit kind of grandma. she would order a roast beef salad without lettuce. why? “because lettuce is a waste of time.”

she had no parents, raised in foster homes and passed around as she grew up. she didn’t have very much but would give you anything she had. a true legend.

i think about my mom, just as strong but softened by papa’s love. everyone was softened by papa’s love, the world genuinely better because of him. i think about my mom running marathons and working night shift. i think about my mom in bed after ear/brain surgery. i think about my mom in california alone in the ‘80s, el niño year, bussing to hospitals to turn in wet resumes, applying for housemates through ads in the paper. i think about my mom, so goddam strong.

i think about my relationship to womanhood and i’m proud of the women who walked before i did.

today the landscape was unreal beautiful, the trail cut inland a bit and between rolling hills and vineyards the ocean would peak through a bit. the fields smell so much like chamomile ! there are happy cows around and donkeys.

i ate a super delicious freshly made tortilla with some pork and cheese in it from a street fair in zumaia. i think about how much andy would like it, and how he’d eat it in 2 bites and get another one. it wouldn’t be impossible but it would be veryyyy hard to do this as a vegan.

thanks to smartwool and salomon, i am still blister free and feeling alive and well.

stage 5:

-> Markina

i woke up in the train station albergue to the host turning on lights at 7:00 waking everyone up. everyone was up so fast and packing and on the go! what? we don’t have to leave until 8:30 and nothing in spain is open until 9:00 anyway? i took a little more time and went to the cafe.

i watched the soccer highlights with 2 german girls, they are 19 and so happy. i love it. we realize the finals are on july 14 and spain could make it – we’re super excited for that. i drink my coffee and go to the market, it’s going to be a long day with no towns in between.

today the emotions matched the landscape. leaving the town is an immediate ascent, and it’s raining. july 14th? that feels soooo far away and it’s only halfway through! what am i doing here? did i make a mistake?

for some reason the only thing downloaded to spotify is my “liked songs” and a playlist called “Incanto 2/4” my brother made it, it’s all the songs that were playing at the party when he met his wife. so romantic. i listen and think about my brother, i start to cry thinking about how good of a dad he will be. how good of a brother he is.

the rain lets up a little and i love it, i’m having an amazing hike. this is my life? all i have to do is go for beautiful walks through spain, eat and sleep? i don’t want this to end. could i do this forever!?

it starts raining again and the descent into the city is super steep and gnarly on the knees (hahah english is weird, pneumonia, mnemonic). so far i feel super strong and impressed by my body, i don’t feel my pack at all, i’m most worried about my knees.

on a side note, i don’t know what kind of whackass parties andy was throwing in cambridge but this playlist jumps from country ballads to latin soul and then electric russian(?) music and all of a sudden ABBA pops up. it’s a wild ride if you’re interested

i walk all day alone, i’m surprised by how few people i see and how few people are in the albergue and how closed off they are. i talk to a nice polish couple who are on their third camino together, i am jealous.

i eat the menu del dia with 2 american girls and i am not sure if this is for me.

i am usually totally fine alone, i don’t miss people, i don’t miss home. home is wherever i am, i have always said.

i didn’t realize how sweet it is and painful it can be to miss things. the rain helped nothing. i’m still adjusting to this totally different life.

stage 6:

-> Olabe

today was a day that was exactly how i imagined the camino would be.

i woke up in the albergue and eduardo had coffee and breakfast things for us.

the americans woke me up as they rummaged to pack their things at 6:00. where are they going? what is the hurry? did i mention one of them is working part time while doing this?

there are two boys from america with goatees and chewing tobacco to match. they try to convince me, “team america must win!”

win what?

i talk to a nice israeli man at breakfast. a friend! i learn that he is going the opposite direction. womp.

last night there was collective anxiety around reaching Gernika because the albergue is closed. already 25 km, the next albergue after that is another 10 and a steep climb again up from the city. what to do!?? everyone is freaking out. team america calls ahead and makes a reservation. maybe i’ll camp, i think. i’m so happy to have martin’s tent. the collective anxiety reminds me of finals week at school. can we all just calm down?

my life in san francisco is such a rush all the time. wake up, quick routine, bus 22, work work work, gym/friends/art/shows/projects/family/house/dates, home, dinner? sleep. i am going all the time. it’s my life and i like it for now, im not complaining at all. it’s just a lot.

eduardo asks me if i’m going to santiago. we’ll see, i say. i came here to walk, to slow down, to think, to reconnect with myself.

i get some food at the market and head out, no rain today, thank god. i meet the 2 german girls at the edge of town and we walk together. they are so happy and fun, we talk about everything. Sarah stops to make a phone call to her mom, she has to navigate paying for college with divorced parents and i have so much empathy for the situation. fuck.

the sun is out and it is ridiculously gorgeous. i love walking. the landscape varies from super moist fern-y forests to rolling hills and country houses. there are fields with cows, we pass donkeys, and goats, and spend one hour with kittens and i seriously consider smuggling this teeenyyyy tinnyyyy runt home. i named her sesame because she is about as big as a seed. i wonder what she’s doing now.

we listen to reggaeton and dance the last 5 km to the albergue. at the top of a hill there’s a beautiful home. pilgrims hang their laundry to dry outside and when we enter it smells like home cooked dinner.

we are served dinner, vegetable soup, rice with meat and sauce, and stewed apples for dessert. the red wine in the sauce reminds me of grandpa joe’s cooking. very few spices, not eccentric but so carefully prepared and delicious. there are ten of us at the table in the dining room with wood beam ceiling. it feels sooooo goood to eat at a table with people again. we speak, english, french, german, and polish.

i think about generosity and how much i would love to host pilgrims, to be a warm home and serve food from my garden. i think a lottt about generosity, where does this word come from? genus? generate? is generic related? i think i could be a more generous person, i wonder how i can do more with my time and energy. i would like to work on this.

is generosity another pillar?
creativity
nature
community

or maybe generosity falls under creativity?? or maybe generosity is one of those things that falls perfectly at the center? like a group indigo dye bath.

would people come to an indigo party? probably, i have hippie friends. i wonder about having creative dinner parties.

i realize that the camino is one of those things that falls at the center of my values. i am not following an organized religion but i think seriously about my personal values and how i live them in my daily life.

i feel grateful and fortunate and happy in the purest way.

stage 7:

-> Larrabetzu

ok, today. today! i think it’s all starting to make sense. i am just happy.

today i walked with sara and tami and we had so much fun. they are both 19 and so great to talk to and so easy going. we pushed pretty far through maybe my favorite day of walking and it felt so easy. the landscape is fucking bonkers. the walking is my favorite part, maybe that is silly to say but i really really love it. the landscape is varied and following the arrows is like a little game. there are wild flowers everywhere and this yellow jasmine(?) plant that smells sooooo good. we meet cows in the road and lots of country cats, it’s sunny and that’s pretty much all there is to it.

so far i have not met any of the challenges that i was expecting. food is easy (although i miss vegetables), my body feels strong (!?), i have one tiny blister under one toe, my pack feels fine, albergues and space have been plenty, and the trail is so easy to follow. i have a stomach ache but nothing new. i feel more in the flow here and the initial shock of what the fuck? is wearing off.

i’ve been thinking about making it to santiago and not really having an intense pace or goal. i want to set some guide for myself so that i accomplish my own thing that feels good. otherwise, i will surely fly to italy when i get my period in 2 weeks. i decide that 30 walking days for 30 years of life with 3 rest days feels right. i will definitely need to take some transportation between legs to make up some time. people talk about “cheating” here but i’m making my own rules. i will get to santiago with enough time to get to bologna for some days.

writing about my days is helping a lot because all the time flows together but i really hate typing on this phone !

stage 8:

-> Bilbao

today we woke up in a little albergue at 7:00, our host told us “8:00 i have to take a bus to go to the doctor” he lingered as we packed.

we got up and out and started walking right away. we stopped in the next town for coffee. the spanish coffee makes my heart race. the walk is short-ish today so we have some time to explore bilbao. short but steep. we take water breaks and take turns putting each other’s bottles back in each other’s packs and i think about how maybe life is not meant to be walked alone.

it’s so strange to be in a city all of a sudden. then a fine art museum. everything is different and overstimulating. i spend a lot of time inside the space-warping curves of Richard Serra’s caves and i feel safe.

i say goodbye to tami and sara today and am back to wandering solo.

yeehaw.

stage 9:

-> santullán

today was super super hard.

i took the metro through the city and zoomed to Portugalete. i see the chilean and italian boys resting on a bench and think about staying with them but i’m looking forward to a solo day. it is far to the next stop.

i walk along a hot asphalt path with bikers and joggers. i listen to a podcast, peculiarly appropriately about how christianity messes with kids’ self esteem.

my stomach is hurting again, it’s a kind of sour feeling, i drink water and walk again.

i walk and walk and walk, it’s so much asphalt today. click click click with my little sticks. i make it to a beach town, the ocean! i’m happy to see her. i walk along the coast for a long time and it feels like half moon bay.

the way is very vaguely labeled today. lots of intersections and contradicting signage. my phone won’t locate me with gps. i feel kind of lost, it’s 16:00.

i walk along a highway, it is super ugly and i wonder what the fuck i am doing. this feels like a really selfish thing to do. why am i so far away from everyone and everything that i care about? it feels spoiled in a way, just walking. there’s a restaurant coming up and i find wifi and think. it’s difficult today. the restaurant is owned by moroccans, so i eat some beef tajin and it might be the best thing i’ve ever eaten.

my body feels totally fine in a way that is confusing me. the most pain i have is where my backpack is rubbing on part of my spine. it reminds me of the way i used to have bruises from the wooden lecture hall chairs on my bones.

the hardest part has been my head. i know there is an albergue 1 more hour away, easy. i walk and am comforted by the fact that i will see other pilgrims and maybe find some inspiration.

the albergue is full of spanish women with no english. a french man who says, “i don’t understand the camino.” and an old italian man who i am excited to see, “you’re not italian” he says. oh.

what the fuck am i doing? a young girl from romania approaches me and asks me if she can ask some questions for her studies about solo traveling. “eh, today the answers will not be so great” i say. we have a really similar experience of hating the day. and decide to walk together tomorrow.

i feel like i am not contributing to anything and spend the evening searching farms and families on workaway. is this “quitting”? i don’t fucking know.

i try to sleep in the room full of 20 beds. the spanish people laugh so loud until 00:00 then the snoring starts. then the fucking starts. i don’t consider myself very prude at all, it is not the first time i have been in a room with other people having sex but it is not what i want to hear tonight. and goddam the spanish people take their fucking time. i wonder if i have ever used “fucking” so literally. i listen to loud white noise in my headphones and question everything. why am i doing this? do i need to be THIS uncomfortable? is this part of the journey? i promise myself to sleep in my tent tomorrow.

the way will change you, blah blah blah

stage 10:

-> somewhere

i look at the time, 4:30 … 5:00 … i wake up with the commotion of people at 6:30. “shut the fuck up,” i think.

i wake up again, 9:30 ! ahhhh everyone is gone! the host, Eloisa is super nice and lets me leave in time. I think about the romanian girl and i’m sad to miss her. after some sleep, i feel like i can walk again. don’t give up yet, i think.

i cross the street to the cafe. cafe con leche y tortilla, por favor 🙂

there is a real pilgrim there. properly worn bag, lots of things attached, a long black case – shimano- a bike thing? a tent, a flag, a shell, his shoes have holes in them, his beard is long, and his crazy curly hair covers his eyes. he drinks coffee and smokes a cigarette.

we smile at each other while an old spanish man goes off about something without realizing i don’t speak spanish. i smile and nod. he gets up and i ask mystery pilgrim if he’d like to join.

i learn he is samuel, french, 23, and has already been walking for 3 months !! what? he is walking to change his life. he is really a wild man i learn, he fishes (the long case, obviously, ali) he cooks on a fire, he sleeps outside always. he stinks. (sorry, sam)

i think about how when we go our own pace we meet people at that pace.

i would like to walk with him and so we decide to go together. as we walk it instantly starts to rain. like dump buckets of rain. i am soaked. “just imagine it’s not raining” uh, ok.

we take shelter in a bar. we get drinks and smoke cigarettes and pass time super easily. his english is pretty bad but i enjoy the way this forces me to be precise with my words. sometimes we are quiet and it’s ok. i watch the rain through the window.

we think the rain might stop soon because an app on his phone says as much.

we talk about living extremes and finding balance in the middle. he shows me his lures and i love how passionate he is about them. he reminds me soooo much of nico, it’s crazy. there is an oldness and youngness at the same time, they have both lived a lot of life in their few years. samuel is totally an anarchist and wants to go on so many adventures and do so many things. they have similar mannerisms and a big bursting laugh. AND he is also allergic to peanuts. i think about souls. i wonder what his birthday is but don’t want to seem weird.

the rain stops finally and we begin to walk around 14:00. we walk through a beach vacation town with ice ream shops and overpriced mediocre food. we get stamps from the information office.

we buy groceries from a store called BM which absolutely disgusts me as a name for a grocery store but they have gluten free bread, nonetheless.

we leave the little beach town, somehow it is 17:00 we walk some hours and i’m so happy the sun is out. we decide to go towards a patch of green near the ocean. we arrive and scope a place to sleep. it is so beautiful and after last night i feel like i could cry.

it starts to sprinkle a little and we are unsure what to do. the rain is just a mist so we hurriedly set up our tents. i am so happy to have big agnes. my little home.

we eat our dinner of crackers and cheese and canned sardines and tortilla chips and chocolate and i am happy. we take turns playing songs on his phone. life is easy. he gives me a four-leaf clover! i have never seen one before. he says, “you just have to look, and usually when you find one, there are more”

i am lying in my tent in absolute awe of life.

stage 11:

-> somewhere

i wake up in my/martin’s tent, there’s sun, one of my favorite feelings in the world. sam is awake.

a fisherman passes by with his catch and i think this can’t be real.

we pack up and head towards coffee. just 2 or 3 kilometers, but honestly i have no idea of distance. we find a cafe, i get a tortilla of course and it is one of the best. i don’t know why, it just is. fuck, tortillas are so good. to be clear this is a spanish tortilla made of eggs and potatoes and other things not a mexican masa pancake.

we meet a wispy french couple, they share a tortilla and their packs are SO small. sam tells the wife about his journey and she says, “oh you are a real one.” he is a real one. we talk some more and they are a cute couple. they really seem like 2 peas in a pod and it makes me happy.

sam and i fill up and look at the map. it’s a weird day because there’s a giant mountain at the coast so we have to go inland and around. we could go shorter on a busy road but we both hate doing that.

we start to walk, my stomach hurts. this is annoying. i wonder if it is the coffee and tortilla combo, every morning now and evenings too. i would trade anything for a new digestive system. i’m quiet while we walk and my brain has to do a lot of gymnastics to translate sam’s english. he mixes up so many verbs and we have to slow down to understand each other and i’m not always sure we do but it’s ok.

we stop at a cafe, sam drinks beer and i eat a gluten free cake i bought yesterday. this is probably not going to help the stomach pain. it’s a great cafe, a group of old spanish men sit around a table and eat chips and drink beer. i wonder how long they have known each other.

we are both totally slumped. i don’t have so much energy today. i feel very slow. it takes us a long time to get motivated to walk again.

more road walking, more asphalt. it’s not a great walk today, up hill, around. meh. i’m tired and hungry. we take a break.

we think we’ll go to some forest near the coast again. we walk and it’s rocky, there are pastures, i don’t know what to do. my stomach is hurting and i hate the feeling of not knowing where i will sleep. i think this is a privilege of always having a home.

i’m cranky. sam is patient and super positive. i am so done. i don’t want to keep walking. i want to sleep right here.

the ocean is in front of us, there’s a a little country road and pastures with “fences”

then we find a pause in the fence, the place is so gorgeous, it’s like out of a dream. we walk, and behind a little hill there is a perfectly flat spot and i can’t think anything other than: what the fuck?

we are so happy. the feeling of finding the most perfect place to put your tent after a long day is really something different. i watch the waves for a long time. we set up our tents and eat dinner. i think it might be the most beautiful place i have ever slept.

i am so happy to walk with samuel, it is super easy and he motivates me. we talk a lot about our lives and how we spent so many years numbing the feelings of being alive and how fucking good it is to feel alive now. we are really proud of ourselves and the ways we make our families proud and think about our moms’ smiles and this walk doesn’t seem so silly anymore.

stage 12:

-> Laredo // rest

i wake up sick. my head hurts, my ears hurt, my eyes are red and glassy with a fever. i don’t want to move and i don’t want to walk but i am in a sheep pasture so i don’t really have a choice. i am frustrated, i am so mean to myself when i am unwell, i know this doesn’t help.

sam is super patient as we walk, he goes slow with me but he teases me too. i fucking hate when people tease me when i’m unwell. he is like an annoying little brother right now. and he smells SO bad.

often times the way splits and there is a shorter route and a longer route, the shorter way is never the easy way but i want to get to town as soon as possible. we whack through an overgrown trail and i imagine the sweet spanish pharmacist who will check my temperature and give me medicine. i miss my mom.

we make it town and go straight to a bar for food and coffee. i can’t think, i haven’t had service in some days and i miss everyone. it becomes clear that sam will go ahead a little way and i will get an albergue and i don’t really want to be alone but i am exhausted. he is so nice and helpful. i feel bad for having had any mean thoughts about him at all.

i get medicine, 10€, thank you. then we just sit in a park and say nothing, listen to music in the distance. i’m so exhausted and wait for the hostel to open. i want vegetables so badly.

i do nothing for the rest of the day. i wash all my clothes and fresh laundry has never felt so good. i eat a whole bunch and drink a ton of water. i call home and i feel super homesick. i think about the feeling of coming home after a long night out, it feels so good in a way that wouldn’t if i had just stayed in. i get little surprise lessons everyday.

stage 13:

-> Guemez

i don’t think words really fit the magic of the day.

https://www.alberguedeguemes.es/en/home

stage 14

-> Santander

walking with friends today!

after the albergue yesterday i feel super inspired and excited to walk. i leave with a whole group and i feel like i am starting to touch the spiritual part of the way. i walk with new people and it’s such a good mix, richard a british man, andy a kiwi, fabianna an italian, jerome a shy german, javier a spanish poet and sailor, and pato the argentinian. the walk passes so quickly and we get to santander easily. my stomach hurts from the start of the morning and absolutely no one will be surprised to learn that i have an eye infection, but it’s just really red and not otherwise a problem.

we take a ferry to santander and get lunch in a bar. so many pastries and sandwiches and pizza. i get a smoothie and feel even worse. a gripping pain that pulls me out of being present with my new friends. they are all so fit and drink beer and eat croissants for lunch and i wish i were so normal.

we go to a sweet little albergue that is isabel’s house and she gives me ginger tea and i think she might be an angel. it helps a little i think.

my new friends are great; pato, richard, and jerome and i stay together.

we go out to watch the england vs netherlands game and i am so hungry but also don’t want to eat as the pain has subsided and i remember this feeling and hate it.

pato helps me order fish and it comes battered and i have a silent internal dilemma and excuse myself. no one seems particularly concerned at all and i feel lonely again. i go for a walk and find arepas down the street. i eat alone and honestly cry a little bit because i’m super scared that this shit is going to take me out of this. i read martin’s little note in my pocket and think about cooking with him. i wonder how i will be able to get back on track. i think horrible things about myself and wonder if i will be able to get back to baseline. am i doing damage? tomorrow i could go to a farmacia and get some… ginger? tums? idk. my intuition is that i am not eating “enough” and not regularly. but i am eating a lot i think. the food here is oily and dense and the same literally everywhere. jerome asks me what i am craving and i try to explain californian food and in the most german way he asks, “but what is the sauce?” my stomach is empty and i just have a really acidic stomach feeling all the time. i want to eat plain rice, i want baked sweet potatoes and unfried salmon. the pain and confusion and lack of appetite is super triggering.

i go back to the bar. we watch england score in the 90th minute. everyone is so happy. we walk back to isabel’s house. i try to sleep.

tldr; ali has a stomach ache and nothing is new

stage 15

-> Santander // total rest day

the stomach aches continue and my mind, body, and heart wrestle with each other all night. i want so badly to continue. the morning comes and richard and pato kindly talk with me through some of what i’m feeling and i think richard must be a great dad. it’s funny how these were “strangers” yesterday.

i take the day to calm down. i find a gluten free bakery (!!) and read and write for a while. i go to a beautiful museum here right on the water that is filled with light and reflections that compliment the work very well. i spend a lot of time there and it’s very soothing. i remember this old description of myself that i used to use: like the love child between willow, the queer produce guy at your local co-op and margot the museum curator from brooklyn. i like being dirty in the woods but need some quality civilization time too.

i go to the pharmacy and get ginger supplements, some kind of bismuth and i buy cbd. tbh, thank god for cbd, i feel better instantly. i have a decent food plan for tomorrow. we are fully loaded, babyyyy. i will do everything in my power now to not skip any more of life.

i get dinner with jerome and we laugh the whole time. i feel a little crazy for being so upset this morning but i understand that it’s part of it. i really care about this.

i will walk tomorrow. one day at a time.

i’m sorry, uncredited artist. @ centro botín

stage 16:

-> Santillana del Mar

i woke up ready to walk today, armed with like 6 different remedies i felt invincible.

i take a train out of Santander because city walking is weird.

i feel pretty good all morning and i’m so happy to be walking. i listen to Florence’s entire discography and fucking love her voice so much.

i really don’t think about a whole lot today. it’s a pretty decent distance and mostly i feel so happy to be walking with minimal pain.

i think i’m in a weird midway point feeling like i’ve got a long way still to go.

my roommate is a 40 year old australian woman and she invited me for drinks because it’s her birthday and i would have to be bleeding out and dying before i said no to getting drinks with someone celebrating their birthday by themselves in a foreign country. two girls from north carolina join us and two guys from south africa. after they talk ignorantly about pedophilia and castration for 30 minutes i wonder if i can change the topic. how do you like spanish food? thoughts on tortillas? “what’s that?” they ask. i explain, the gem of spanish cuisine to them and they same, “oh that thing, yea it’s fine.” this is absolutely shocking to me. to be clear, every single bar they have entered for the past 250 km has had a variety of tortillas AND they’ve eaten one and they haven’t learned the name?

i eat the menu at the albergue with some spanish people and a czech team. it is like exactly what i wanted, vegetable soup and rice with chicken and veg.

i think i have some solo walking days ahead.

my friend tells me Ratoncito Perez is the spanish version of the tooth fairy 🙂

stage 17:

-> Comillas

a super sweet day!

i left the albergue with a friend i met at dinner named Borja from Bilbao. he started the camino from his house. we walk and talk and enjoy the rolling hills, the llamas and geese. i get a spanish lesson and we discuss families and names which i think is super interesting. in basque country it isn’t uncommon to give children the surname of the mother and he thinks it’s totally bonkers that there are no rules on naming in america and you can name a kid Batman if you want. we eat some white chocolate flan and it’s so fucking good.

it’s an easy walking day and my stomach is pretty calm until the very end of the walk but not too bad!!! i feel so proud of my body in a way that i have never before and it’s incredible. i really love walking and i think a lot about running a marathon lately …

in comillas i go to El capricho de gaudí, the first gaudí i have seen in real life. the house is inspired by a sunflower in many ways. i surprise myself by how much i like it. there is a lot of detail and generally i don’t love so much bold shapes and curves and patterns and excess but the detail is remarkable and i think about the hands that carved every edge. the light is thoughtfully incorporated, it’s a fun time.

i go back to the hostel and a man has cooked a big pot of rice and offers me some. it is my chance to infiltrate the czech/polish team!! obviously they are adorable. i love andrew and patrizia, a polish couple that has walked every year for 5 years now. they are super kind and they have a sweet banter between them. they tell me their kids names are andrew and alexandra! (the same as my brother and me :).

the shared meals at the end of the days are some of my favorites.

i’m starting to feel super motivated to continue. i’m so curious what it will feel like at the end. sometimes my mind wanders to other options and how easily i could jump ship but i remind myself that this is my project for now and it is unlike anything else. walk walk walk.

stage 18:

-> Unquera

today i walked and felt really strong, here are some non sequiturs from the day:

⁃ i would like to talk to the genius in the vegan department at magnum who decided to replace the vegan chocolate/almond for a brownie berry flavor that is not gf

⁃ sometimes when i’m walking i think i might be off trail then i look up and right at that moment i see a yellow arrow. i had the thought, “i wish life came with yellow arrows,” then i thought about our intuitions and the ways i believe we deeply know. but we distract ourselves with lots of noise and toys and things that make it hard to read our internal compasses. you know the way. bodies, minds, souls, infinitely, divinely intelligent.

⁃ do miracles exist?

⁃ is everything a miracle?

⁃ should i study theology? a little maggie rogers moment? what would i do with this? i am annoyed that my immediate second thought after identifying an interest is “why?” as if i have to monetize an education or have some greater reason for simply wanting to know more stuff. i still think this is important information and maybe just an area of personal research

⁃ fabada asturiana is so fucking good oh my god

⁃ i remember sitting in the bar in Deba thinking about sugar and how it is crystallized sunlight when i saw tami and sara and we realized that we would be in spain for the eurocup finals. july 14 sounded sooo far away. this was before i knew their names and before we walked together for some days. that feels both very long ago and exactly like yesterday. time here is strange, it stretches out in a way but i feel more like i’m walking through time. like time is measured in kilometers at this moment. i rarely think about the hour.

⁃ i don’t really care about the soccer final

⁃ pilgrims like to compare bag sizes like maybe it is one kind of comparison they can hold onto here. if they can’t compare houses, cars, jobs, i guess mochillas will be the thing. people ask me how much my bag weighs often and i always say, i don’t know but it feels good for me. maybe i should have a lighter pack? but also maybe i am just stronger than all the men who ask me? maybe i should start saying, “you know what they say about men with small backpacks.” my body doesn’t ache in any way that i thought it would, aside from the stomach pain, my body feels fine? after about 20 km on pavement my feet feel it and i’d rather not wear a backpack but it’s what bodies are for.

⁃ the math on finishing is becoming tightttt but i can do it !

stage 19:

-> Llanes

today is straight up fun. i’m deep in it now, babes. i realize how perfectly fit this adventure is for my taurean nature. it’s a game of endurance, it’s a slow and steady thing for sure, it takes me maybe a little longer to adjust to the new rhythm but now that i’m in the habit, i walk all day (usually) in nature, meet good people, sometimes see some art, cool cities, eat, and sleep.

today i cross the river from cantabria into asturias and it’s almost immediately different, the yarrow is back, the climbs are back, it’s up and down on gravel trails again. the mountains are to the south now. i walk by myself until a bar where i see Andrew and Pati again! they’re so sweet and i’m excited to walk with them. i talk to Pati the whole time as Andrew walks just 10m in front and stops every once in a while for us to catch up. I ask her how they met. she tells me they met in a cafe when she was studying for her high school final exams when they were 18 and they have been together now for 30 years. you can tell, they have such a sweet connection between them and i love to be around it. i wonder what that would feel like. she tells me that this year she didn’t really want to go on the camino but it is the only time they have together just the two of them, and that’s special for her. we make jokes about what a partner is for, he walks ahead to see if the store is open, he likes to walk with an umbrella in the rain, she clears the branches with her stick for him. it’s silly but actually i’m so many ways the camino reminds me how much life is better when it’s shared. i kind of feel like an only child when i walk with them and i love it. they are the only people in the world who call me alexandra and i’m ok with that.

it’s a long walk today though and towards the end i feel so done. but i love this part, i get to a point where i’m like, NO MORE, then i rest and it turns out i can go like 5 more kilometers.

i’ve been on the camino long enough now that i see so many familiar faces and it’s super fun. i’m so happy to see Lukas when i get to the city! There is an incredible squadron of 6 spanish-speaking men that i just adore, it’s three young guys, 17, 18, and 20, who came together, (the italian and chilean brothers), cristo, maybe 30, Lukas 44, and Jose – 85 !!! I ate dinner with them in Guemes and they are really a family. They didn’t come together but i love so much how they care for each other and motivate each other. it’s fucking sweet. the youngins are up ahead and i eat dinner with Lukas and Jose, they don’t really speak english and i don’t really speak spanish but we laugh all the same. we eat cheese and anchovies and smoked salmon and bread and even though jose has a knife he insists on using Lukas’s. i love the crinkles in his eyes from 85 years of smiling. he used to walk with his wife but she has passed away, he still wears his wedding ring.

i have so much fun at that little table. it’s so sweet and joyful. something that multiple people have told me now is that they can understand me really well when i talk. this is interesting to me and i wonder why. im not sure but it is a super sweet thing to say.

i have a long week ahead with 25/30k days. i want to get to gijon by friday for some silly goose business and then maybe train out of there and then it’s full steam ahead for Santiagooooo. i want to go to finisterra sooo bad but i don’th think it’s in the cards… this time 😉

thank you to all the sweet people who have written to me, it means a lot and i think about you all and miss you and it keeps me going.

stage 20:

-> Ribadesella

20 days of walking really?

37km today, let’s gooo

today was long long but i really like asturias walking, trails are back, and we walk sandwiched between the ocean and mountains. i left llanes early and immediately was bored to walk alone. i stopped in a cafe and was drinking spanish strong coffee when Andrew and Pati walk up of course! they won’t go as far as i will but i’m happy to walk with them again. we go along the coast and join up with some other pilgrims, a german guy i’ve seen before and an irish guy andrew met last night, also andrew. so many andrews! we walk and walk, click click click. then andrew and pati stop and irish andrew and i go on up ahead. we walk and walk and walk, we see some goats, we pass a beach town, get a tortilla – obviouslyyyy and doritos? weird move on my part but honestly doritos are kinda good. andrew laughs at the town called poo. we go and go and go, we know we want to go the coastal route but it’s a little wonky getting there. it’s always better than the road – right? the coast here is crazy and the path matches. it’s so steep up and down i feel like a mountain goat. it’s fun and new for sure but also so much for the last leg of the day.

i’m totally dead. at one point some people stop and they’re so curious about our journey! how long have you been walking? where did you come from? it takes minutes to think of the name of the town where i started walking this morning.

i am so happy to get to town, i eat a half of a chicken and potatoes and “salad,” spanish salad is not salad. and horchata ice cream.

some thoughts on calories and stuff:

i spent so many years disassembling the calorie tracker that ran in my brain incessantly. i spent so many years untying a lot of knots between consumption and work and self worth. i really don’t think about what i’m eating in that way anymore. however, doing something like this makes you kind of have to think about it. my brain can switch on the calculations pretty quickly and it’s annoying but kind of helpful that i know the nutrient density of like literally anything. now it’s just without the moral judgement or self flagellation. it feels good to recognize this. people would tell me that they just ate food and enjoyed it and i genuinely didn’t believe them. it’s good, we’re good. i am so excited to walk tomorrow !!

stage 21:

-> Sebrayo

you won’t believe what i did today…

i walked !

i walked and i walked and goddam it feels so fucking good to be alive. i feel overflowing with gratitude and pride and joy and love it’s hard to put into words exactly. i really mean it when i say i feel closest to god when i am walking, it is something about the combination of the elements and spirit, maybe.

as i walk i think about how lucky i am to be able to walk. i can afford this trip, i am physically capable, mentally capable, generally able. this is major and i need to acknowledge it. this challenge is a challenge for me and i know that it’s right for me. i believe that it is our responsibility in our short little lives to become the absolute fullest versions of ourselves and only you know what that is. you know your limits, challenges, and comfort zones. i hope in some ways my walking is inspiring not for others to walk but to challenge themselves in the way they need. maybe your challenge today is getting dressed, or sending a vulnerable message, maybe it’s applying to something or asking for help, maybe it’s running 15 miles, maybe it’s walking around the block, or grocery shopping. whatever it is, you are really really strong.

i used to work with this journal prompt, “how can i be the person i want to be today” it is a way of bringing your imagined future self into the present. if you imagine yourself in the future doing all these things or being some kind of way, how are you doing that today in some little way? i remember one example was using the opportunity to ask my boss for a late paycheck to practice feeling worthy. i don’t know if this makes sense but i thought about it a lot today.

while i walk i listen to graceland by paul simon, this always makes me feel like a sunny weekend day riding in the middle seat of my dad’s truck going to the hardware store where we will surely get red vines as a treat for going with him. i listen to Flower Boy by Tyler, The Creator. idk how this album is actually rated but i think it’s underrated. Tyler’s such a fucking artist.

I also listen to a Maintenance Phase episode, The 10,000 Steps Myth. If reading about my walking so far is triggering you in someway because brains can be super weird, i understand and i highly recommend this episode (and the show on the whole, tbh). they talk about the history of this totally random number that everyone seems to be obsessed with?

tl;dr move in ways that feel good for you and fuck counting your body.

i finallyyy get to eat paella with a group of sweet people and i’m so happy!

stage 21:

-> gijon

the adventure continues. i have gotten super comfy on the camino, maybe a little too comfy.

i woke up and started walking late with richard today. he was slow going with his busted ankle but i was happy to be his buddy. he needed to talk and i am happy to listen. i listen a lot on the camino. he has some complicated relationships in his life, he had a magical romance that started when they were both 18 and they had really wild adventures. they travel the world, work together, and he tells me the story of delivering his daughter in their living room. he is separated from this woman now and they have an intense push and pull between them. he isn’t clear on what he wants or perhaps what he deserves. he chases younger women. we sit at a cafe and talk for hours. he talks a lot a lot about women and more about women’s bodies than i would like to hear if i’m honest. he is very confused and lost. i take a lot of notes. he gives me a really interesting perspective. by the time i leave the bar it’s 14:00 and i’ve got 20k up ahead. oops. too comfy.

i walk and think so much about relationships. we are individual people but different in relationship to other people. my mom is only “mom” to two people in the world and no matter what i am her daughter. i think about the ways i show up for other people and the love that i have excepted and excuses that i have made for people. i think about the difference between the feeling of love and being able to act it out. i think about being used for other people’s gain. i think about trust and how precious it is and once it’s gone if it is possible to put it back together. i think about boundaries and vulnerability. what are we doing in this life if not caring for one another, if we are not lightening the load for one another just a little? i have no answers, it is hot and i am rambling in my mind but my heart is very clear.

i stop in a shady spot on the trail to eat some tuna and bread and cookies. a french man passes by me with a carved staff, and a bucket hat covered in buttons – a universal sign of crazy. this is our interaction:

him: “españa?”

me: “usa” (i usually say california but usa will turn him off more)

him: “oh. me family, usa. sister (motions like putting a ring on his finger) vietnam man. (makes circles with his pointer finger around his temple) crazy.

me:

him: you. man. (does the ring motion again)

i give him the same look every french person has ever given me when i try to ask for something in french and i shake my head and walk away

him: spanish?

i laugh and keep walking. the trail is hot, the sun is bright, my shadow is behind me now which is not where you want your shadow to be when you are walking west. then the trail turns eastbound for about 500m and then i start climbing. and it’s like 16:00 and that is a bad time to start climbing a mountain. it is 450m to the top and it is steep. ooof. i climb and walk and fuck, i am tired. i don’t know if it is the highest point yet but i was spoiled by flat cantabria. it feels like basque country again. i listen to andy’s most icon playlist: “bad bitczhes only,” dua lipa, charli xcx, and a chinese rapper named vava motivate me some. though, i don’t really feel like a bad bitzch, i am super sweaty and tired and i have so much farther to walk, it feels like i’m not going anywhere. i have no water and a melted chocolate bar and a squished piece of gluten free bread. i finallyyyy start to descend and of course the landscape is beautiful but the sun is not where it is supposed to be with this many kilometers left to get anywhere. two boys maybe 10 and 12 pass by me on a tractor with bales of hay. i keep going and i see a bar and i’m so happy that at least i will have food and then one less problem. i see two pilgrims that i recognize from the cafe where i sat with richard. i say hi and learn they found a ride to gijon. ideal. i ask them if maybe there’s room. it’s funny how we are just instantly friends. they’re such good vibes, they’ve heard it before. they’re jessie and femi, a man and a woman, two nurses from hamburg. idk what people say, i think german humor is hilarious. we hang out a bit and javier gives us a ride in his pick up truck with his scruffy dachshund, rita, and i feel like i’m in hawaii again hitching rides. so fun.

jessie and femi have an extra spot in their hostel room and it’s just like all perfect? they’re super sweet. when jessie takes a shower femi lights a candle for her birthday and has a squished muffin and a souvenir that he bought for her. it is so tender i love to witness love so much. there are so many flavors and expressions and languages to communicate care and how did i find this pair that just invited me along?

we go out for peruvian food at 23:00 and i am hungry but tired mostly. i eat the most delicious limey cilantro-y steak and don’t think about anything.

3 of their friends meet us, they’re tired pilgrims and jessie will leave early in the morning and it’s been such a weird fun day.

stage 22:

-> aviles

the heart part??

love in the lions mouth

i can count the days now

i can count them on my fingers

i count on my fingers

the heart part

stage 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29 …

-> here

it’s hard to write about this part while i’m in it. it’s a new phase full of laughter and joy, so much sharing, big hearts, big smiles.

i have a dead phone in my pocket and i’ve never felt more alive.

sweetheart family

everything changes overnight, literally. i find femi and jessie and we ride to gijón. at dinner femi tells us the 3 other guys are coming, they are tired and unwell and need help carrying their bags. but how can they not even carry their backpacks? i don’t understand. one of their friends is sick and goes home so there’s an extra place for me. jessie leaves early in the morning and i wake up in a sun drenched albergue room with 4 strangers speaking german who i have no idea will become such family. jullian is too sick to walk. i planned to stay in gijon for the day and make and send a dot.. so i offer to stay with jullian and get him some water and juice and help him to the bus. marko stays behind too. we spend the day together, i teach them how to fold a zine, jullian does one and marko does half. his folding isn’t genau, but i don’t mind, i think he likes doing it. the sweetness matters more to me than the edges of the paper. he’s a teacher too and will teach his kids next. i am impressed by how a little piece of paper can connect so many people in so many ways. we finish the work, drop the mail in the lion and take the bus to Aviles.

Femi and Oumar arrive shortly after with little Tom in tow and we are forevermore a family of 6.

these men are special and of course difficult to put into words but i will try.

femi: the first one i meet, i notice his smile when he passes me as i sat at the cafe with richard. he is a nurse by profession and a nurse by heart. if you are not 100% ok, he will do what he possibly can to change it. he has a really quick wit and sarcastic humor and hearty laugh. he is so gentle. he tells me beautiful stories about his mother who has passed away and really carries her with him.

oumar: olli, our sunflower child. he’s over 2 meters tall and his big curly hair radiates around his bright face. another gorgeous smile. he is the youngest of us but not to be mistaken for the least mature. he is quite wise and resolute. he’s the fastest walker of all of us and has an arm like i’ve never seen. he can launch a rock easily over 100m. he’s musical and bouncy and such a hype boy. he has an optimism like daisies that grow in the cracks of sidewalks.

tom: femi and oumar find tommy about an hour into their walk towards aviles, it’s tom’s first day. he’s an interesting mix of nature boy and twinky london punk english professor. he is a fantastic storyteller and tells me stories of boys boarding school, trees, and courage as we walk. he’s deeply thinking and offers poems for advice. he’s very strong and loves digging into a can of food.

jullian: king jullian, ju, is a tank. he’s a martial arts kid, he’s pure muscle, he never complains and finishes all our leftovers. he’s super goofy, he likes hip hop and quotes rap songs. he’s quiet but when he does speak up it’s funny.

marko: then there’s marko. markovic is the common thread among the boys, femi’s lifelong friend, oumar’s cousin, and jullian’s friend of 8 years. marko is truly a father, he actually has a son but caring is his nature. he never takes a bite of something without breaking it in half first, he is always carrying extra, when he puts his backpack on, everyone puts their backpacks on. i wonder if this is a result of fatherhood and femi assures me he has been like this his whole life. he is sick many of the days but never complains. he walks steadily and has a sense of presence and acceptance that keeps everyone calm.

and how do i fit in with this bunch? it’s seamless. from the beginning we are laughing together and there is never really a question of whether or not i stay. in fact, one night i realize this and tell them

i feel bad i never really asked to join them and they all laugh so much at this ridiculous thought. a week passes like a different life. i’ve never felt more like mother. i have always made the joke that i will probably have all boys and it never feels more sweet and true with them. i carry vaseline and extra bandages and snacks. i make sure they get what they need on our long days and find us albergues when we are too stinky. i feel such a strong instinct to make sure they are all ok. but it is so reciprocal, they are so respectful and caring, they feed me pieces of their steaks, and are never mad even when i’m cranky because they take so dam long to pack their bags. they buy me nectarines and aquarius. it’s a kind of family love that is so obviously something i want. my mind wanders constantly with them about the family i could have some day and it’s so warm. i would be so lucky to have boys so considerate, unique, strong, and silly.

we camp together for days, we sleep on a mountain, we sleep on the beach, we sleep in a soggy field after a rainy day. we eat canned food and so many tortillas. we share everything, a plate of food is never not cleaned. they consider each other without considering that this is even a consideration. the laughter is outrageous, the love is abundant.

stage 30:

-> until we can’t go anymore

we leave at 07:45 – always later than planned with these boys

86km to santiago

we unroll our sleeping bags in a field next to an abandoned house, 03:34

16 km to santiago

why?

to see if i can, really

this life is fucking bonkers

feeling it is a blessing

i never forget it

what’s the point of doing it a little