Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts

Wednesday, 29 July 2015

Homestretch and homesick

Today was a rainy day, but my pack cover and poncho did well by me. Jett's kind of disgusted with me that I didn't use the umbrella he bought for me. (I did use it once, in the sun...)
The walk was beautiful: through a nature preserve. I covered about 17 km today, and was the first to arrive at the Albergue in Miraz. I'm still always so grateful to get a bed. I was just chatting with the hospitaleros, who said that last night, 19 pilgrims spent their night in the field adjacent, as the Albergue was full. Tonight, there's still two beds open, but they might fill up later. Lots of young people walking the last 100km, and I've still been fretting about whether or not I'll be able to get a bed every night. Relax, Jolie.

I've been homesick the past few days. Earlier this week, it was my halfway day: the midpoint of my time away from home. My "camigos" Miriam and Leontina told me about the halfway day phenomena: everyone is 'off' on their halfway day, depressed, cranky, or irritable. I was all of that and more. My homesickness has been quite pronounced, and I'm so ready to go home to my family and friends.
But I can't see anyone right away because I stink so bad. I'm just going to lock myself in the washroom and soak in the tub for a week. All my gear will be confiscated at the airport because they won't let anything that filthy into Canada. They'll just put a match to it, and it will immediately combust.

Saturday, 25 July 2015

Luxury and the Litany Against Fear

So I got lost in Llanes. There are three albergues listed in my guide book, but I couldn't find any of them, and I lost the Camino. Instead of being patient, I saw a highway sign that said the next town, Poo, was 3 km away. Well, I knew that Poo was on the Camino, so I said, I'll just walk on the highway, get a place at the Albergue at Poo, and it's all good.
Hot, ugly highway walking sucks.
And the Albergue was full. The tourist apartments next to them were full. Poo was full.
Except for the luxury hotel "El Camin". So I got a room there. For 80euros.
I took a shower, relaxed with the tv, went out for dinner, came back, had a hot bath, and slept in a room that did not have any strangers in it.
Had a shower in the morning. Then free fancy breakfast, taking my sweet time. Wrote in my journal, then made a pig of myself and had second breakfast.
I was so at my wit's end when I arrived... Crying, limping, just a mess. But my stay was sorely needed. I had been missing creature comforts, so I got a little fix. I hope it will be enough to take me through the next three weeks...

As I left the hotel, I thought, " I'll take the train... The station is right there, and I'm going to have to take it some time... I'm way behind." As I looked for the station to buy a ticket, I met some pilgrims from Germany. One had lost the tip off of one of her walking poles, so I gave her my spares. I didn't think it was a big deal, but she was overjoyed. They invited me to walk with them, and I accepted. It was a long day, but nice to walk with awesome people again.
We parted ways when the albergue we stopped at had only one bed. They told me to take it; they had energy to press on. (I found out later that there was an extension of the albergue about 800meters down the Camino, so they didn't have to walk to the next town.)
Today, I said (planning, again. When will I learn?) "I'm going to Ribadesella, and I will stay at such-and-such albergue, because the next pilgrim Albergue reportedly sucks." Well, guess which albergue is full? Guess who had to walk 5extra kilometers? And this albergue is fine. The bathroom is not the best, but the beds are great, and the yard is lovely. And there's beer in the coke machine.

But I spent much of my brainpower today afraid and fretting that I wouldn't find a place to sleep tonight. Tears shed along the way.
When I arrived at the Albergue, and realized I really had nothing to worry about, I found myself thinking about the Bene Gesserit litany against fear from Frank Herbert's Dune:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.