Puenta de Reina to Estelle

Today promised (again) to be an easier day, but I´m sitting here at 7:48 planning to finish this blog and get myself in bed. I almost fell asleep over dinner for the second night in a row, and our beds on the third floor are nearly inaccessible at this point--I´m just pretty much out of steam. Don´t feel bad, actually. My legs just do NOT want to go up either mountains or hills or stairs anymore.

Em and I did about 22 kilometers today, which comes out to about 15 miles, I think. I keep thinking things will level out, but somebody keeps putting hills on the Camino. (what´s up with that??) So it was up, and down, and up, and down, and up. Wuh.

Niles still has not been feeling well, and decided about 5 k out, after the first killer climb, that he would do best to just go back to Puenta de Reina and catch the bus--a survival strategy that many pilgims find very helpful in sticking with this. Sometimes you just need a rest. So he still did 10 k total, and managed (with some crib notes written by Emlyn) to get back by himself and get to Estelle, where he was waiting for us when we straggled into the algergue. Daggone, this Eastman team works pretty darn well, actually.

Em and I toughed it out, but it was not an easy day by any stretch. The neuroma in my right foot was flaring more today, between the heat and the pretty steady uphill pace, and I knew I needed to rest it. (Feels better now, but I´m going to have to find an ice pack in a bit. Thankfully, this algergue seems to be well-equipped for wounded and limping pilgrims--there are ice packs in the freezer.) Emlyn is managing pretty well but getting too much sun on her shoulders, even with sunblock. Niles is beginning to feel better, tho, and that´s a good thing.

So we´re all caught between having a tough time and being very excited to actually be here. I was talking with fellow peregrina (pilgrim) Lianna today (Australia), and she said what I have so often thought, "After a year of preparing, and several years of wanting to do this, I´m having a hard time realizing I´M ACTUALLY ON THE CAMINO!" It does seem unreal, sometimes, I keep mentally pinching myself and saying, "I´m in Spain!" It´s cool, every time I think about it.

And on the topic of blessing it´s hard to let go of, and saying goodbye to so many fellow journeyers, we ran across TJ again today. He´d gone ahead of us several days ago (leaving at 4:00 a.m. the day we slept in pretty late), and I really figured we would´t see him again. But he walked up during a rest break today--still in flip flops, since his leather boots are still hurting too much. Em and I ended up leaving him about two towns back. Hello, goodbye, hello, goodbye.... One just never knows. You have to learn to just breathe, be, and receive the blessing that´s right in front of your face. Because you just can´t prepare for, or hold on to, anything else.

As I was walking today, I kept thinking about all the markers that line the path we are taking. They´re very regular, but come in many forms. There might be yellow arrows spray-painted on the curb or on a post, or blue arrows, or a yellow shell, or shell insets in the pavement, or a stylized symbol that looks a little like a shell, and a little like many paths converging on one point. You have to keep your eyes open, for sure. But they´re ALWAYS there, somewhere. Pointing the way, guiding, encouraging ("yes, you ARE still on the right path!!") and making sure we get where we want to be.

Somebody put every one of those markers there. Somebody placed the stone pillars, stacked the cairns, painted the signs. I don´t know who, or how long ago. But somebody did that to be sure I would be able to find my way today.

I kept thinking of the homebound members of St. Paul who so often apologize to me, saying, "We feel so bad, we just can´t do anything for the church anymore." I´ve always tried to reassure them that they DO still support the church, the community, the gathing of faith, because their faith and labor laid the foundation we´re all resting on. This Camino has reinforced what I´m always wishing I could communicate better. They planted the markers we´re following, after having followed the path for themselves in their own time, and refreshing the signs so those of us who came after could find our way too. Just like these signs along the Camino, for a thousand years, pilgrims and people of faith have followed the signs laid down before, and refreshed them for the sake of those who come after. Their journeys have provided comfort and encouragment and guidance for me--and they don´t even know me. How cool is that? And it gets me thinking about how I continue that work--whether it´s here or in Wheaton or wherever the Journey takes me. What prayers would I offer for the sake of those who are following me, hoping to God there will be a sign somewhere they can follow?

Well, the journey, the aches, the tiredness, and the blessings continue. New friendships today, new challenges tomorrow--and the constancy of the promise that there will somebody there to provide what I need. And that there will probably be somebody there who needs something I have to give.

This is a very good way to go to my evening´s rest. Blessings on your day, and love from Spain!