I left the States with excitement, lofty goals, and a serious doubt in my ability to communicate effectively. After years and years of Spanish, I was nervous just asking for juice on the plane! (Though hearing they had pineapple juice made it a little easier…) John, our fearless leader, pushed me to ask about our flight details in Spanish when we landed in Madrid. Having never been through customs, worrying we didn’t have enough time in our layover, and wondering if my precious contact solution was going to make it through baggage claim, I didn’t think I could come up with the words to express anything.
However the nice man at the airport didn’t skip a beat when I asked him if my box would go to Pamplona. For me, the scariest thing for someone to do is to ask me to repeat myself in Spanish. Even if I just spoke too quietly, any confidence about what I was saying is shot. Thankfully, the man heard me and quickly responded– our package didn’t need any help getting to Pamplona.
After leaving the airport– Pamplona’s was tiny– we had our first strange adventure. Who needs a taxi when you’ll be walking across a country? We hitched a ride on a cheap bus and eventually found our hotel.
Pamplona made me antsy. Seeing sights and playing tourist felt strange when I’d been mentally preparing myself for the pilgrimage. It was hard to imagine that in a few days I’d be starting five weeks of walking.
But walk we did. They say the Camino comes in three parts–the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. I knew it would be hard, but little did I know how incredibly difficult the first few days would be. I had blisters and tendonitis, my feet hurt with every step. There were only three of us, and we stuck together, so I felt like I was holding everyone back. I think I’ll remember the first few days the best, because don’t we remember painful things so much more clearly? I won’t forget climbing up a steep and muddy hill towards Arres, nearly crying because of the pain. (Though there was a nice view.)
We arrived in town in the afternoon, and after a shower and lunch, it always felt like a new day. Even though my foot wouldn’t stop hurting, having clean clothes made the rest of the day bearable. Showers, whether warm or cold (and sometimes both), gave me the energy to do the research I came to do.