A Pilgrim Tale: day three

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A pilgrimage is a way of praying with your feet. You go on a pilgrimage because you know there is something missing inside your soul, and the only way you can find it is to go to sacred places, places where God made Himself known to others. In sacred places, something gets done to you that you’ve been unable to do for yourself.

~Ian Cron, Chasing Francis

Lights go on at 6:00 and we are sung to wakefulness by strolling minstrels. Our kind hosts graciously push us out the door before dawn. Despite considerable altitude change, today feels like a recovery day (compared to yesterday) consisting mostly of rolling farmland and woodland paths.

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Dew speckled geraniums grow wild along the fence-rows. And a profusion of blackberries, grapes and apples have us drooling all day. Medieval pilgrims would have helped themselves, but we only partake of the wild blackberries. The number of pilgrims has grown to such a formidable number that we would unnecessarily burden the poor local farmers.

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Instead, we stop at the first market and pick up sweet, juicy nectarines and add them to our sheep cheese for a nourishing, delicious picnic breakfast.

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We walk for a while this morning with our new friend, Rhys. She tells us about her dear daddy who she lost way too early to ALS. She also lets us in on the fact that doctors aren’t optimistic about her chances of living a long life. As a result, she is trying to squeeze as much out of her days as she can, while she can. She will be a bright ray of wild, warm light in these early days of our Camino, and saying goodbye to her down the road will be more difficult than we can possibly imagine on this sweet morning when the world is still fresh and new.

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Mike and Paul catch up to us around mid-day. This will become a familiar pattern. They start later, but move faster. So it is inevitable that, most days, they will overtake us at some point. And how do they spend their break? Playing hacky sack of course. “To loosen everything up,” they explain. ๐Ÿ™‚ Oh, to be young again…

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Although many of our friends will continue on to Larrasoana tonight, so as to have more time in Pamplona tomorrow, we elect to stay in the medieval town of Zubiri as part of our commitment to starting slow. Our small, intimate Albergue, Zaldiko, is near the bridge. I am struck by a watercolor behind the innkeeper’s desk; a painting of her and her albergue by an artist who came here on the Camino, and later came back to stay. He left her the watercolor as a gift.

Shortly after we sit down to dinner on an outdoor patio, Perry and Samra come walking by. We convince them to join us for what is to be, though we do not know it yet, our final meal together. We talk about civil war, Sudan, Bosnia and Croatia, religion, smoking, topless bathing, family, facebook, and what it might look like to meet up in Bosnia sometime.

Tomorrow, Hemingway’s Pamplona. But a couple of delicious detours still lie between here and there…

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Gear Note:

After yesterday’s brutal downhills, a familar hot spot along my right big toe is acting up. On this day, I use moleskin as usual. It does not help, at all. Tomorrow, I will use a product called Compeed which is made and sold in Europe. It is marvelous!! Tomorrow, I will not feel the hot spot at all. I will wear this same tiny circle of Compeed for three days or so before it finally comes off and I have to replace it (for the last time). Beyond this, I have accumulated enough callous to not need anything.

To be fair, I should say that friends who use Compeed on a blister that has already formed do not find it helpful at all. But, for me, it seems to be one factor that insures I never have to deal with a blister in the first place. There are as many “tried and true” methods of foot care as there are pilgrims: duct tape, threading blisters, salves, creams, sandals with socks, sandals without socks, on and on. Use what works for you. But never stop being curious and teachable. ๐Ÿ™‚