A day of three flights. Four hours to Toronto, six to Barcelona, under two to Madrid. Saw our first “Camino” arrow in Barcelona.
I’ve experienced a wee déjà vu, feeling like I did the third time I was in labour. Whose idea was this anyway? To travel over many flights to walk 250 miles? Ok it’s my idea. Yes, there’s a bit of trepidation and I’m identifying its source. At least we have a fair bit of familiarity having done this twice before. We must have been really really scared the first time. I’m appreciating the binder I bought for our paperwork:
My fear stems from the fact that this is a tougher, more rural route, with several long stretches with no services and oftentimes with small alburgues for accommodation. We avoided the bunk rooms in the past, in consideration of C’s sometimes loud sleep disorder, getting private rooms in hostels. No option for that on a third of this track, but luckily he’s been more quiet recently and these are are smaller, more manageable, alburgues, several with as few as six or seven beds. That leads to the prospect of lack of availability. That’s an important aspect of pilgrimage, releasing the worries and letting it provide.
There, got it all out. Next up is two nights in Madrid, then a train to Zamora, our starting point. View from our fourth floor walk up Air B&B.
Comments