Camino Invierno Day 9:
Today’s Camino wisdom is thanks to Joe, an American I met yesterday with whom I walked most of the day today. When people ask him what a Camino is like, he says, “Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day? It’s kind of like that. You keep doing the same thing over and over every day and eventually you learn a lesson.”

He also says the Camino reminds him a lot of the words of the great philosopher Mick Jagger(😂): You can’t always get what you want but if you try sometimes, well, you just might find you get what you need.

Apparently what Joe and I needed today were two canine companions. These guys trotted along in front of us for quite a few kilometers.

Do you know what else we needed? Coffee.

Today was due to be a 26 km walk (16 miles). We left our hostel at 6:40 AM – long before any coffee shops in town were open. Our resources told us there was one coffee shop 8.3km (5.2 mi) into our day. And then we wouldn’t see any other place of sustenance until 15km (9 mi) later.

We arrived at the very-much-anticipated coffee shop at 8:20 am only to find it closed.  We sat at the plastic tables and chairs set up outside lamenting our situation. A farmer dressed in blue coveralls came out of a barn door across the street, his dog trying to show our two earlier canine companions who was boss in this town of four houses.

Two Spanish pilgrims arrived. They, too, told us they had been very excited at the prospect of a coffee shop. They slumped in chairs beside us.

And then, a Camino miracle.

The doors of the bar opened.

The farmer appeared, sans blue coveralls. In the sweetest voice ever, the Spanish woman asked if we could possibly get some coffee. To our great joy, he invited us in. 

Four coffees and much thanks later, the Spanish pilgrim paid our bill (5€/$5.44) and we were off.

There were at least three times during the rest of our walk that I remarked to Joe how grateful I was for that man and his coffee. 

Later, as I commented, yet again, how much I love the local wine in this region, Joe said, “It’s the Camino. You’ll try this one later, and it won’t have the same effect.”

To which I wonder: Is everything really better on the Camino? Are our senses heightened? Are our gratitudes for little things more plentiful?  Whatever it is, I’m sure it is somehow related to why so many people who walk the Camino come back and do it again. And again. And again. Joe is on his 13th Camino. I’m on my 10th.  The Spanish couple at the coffee shop? 6th. Approximately. After a while, you just stop counting.

The Camino is also a place where you continually amaze yourself with what you’re capable of. Where you, hopefully, learn to listen to your body. And, maybe, learn to ask for help.

I’ve learned I’m capable of walking back to back 10+ mile days. In July. But only if I leave early in the morning. And that backpack? After about six days, I remembered I’m on my summer vacation. And figured out how to get it transported to my next location each day. 

I thought I wanted to do a camino like I did my first one: carrying my pack, walking till I didn’t want to walk anymore, and then finding a place to lay my head for the night. But I found instead what I really needed was someone else to carry the load for a little while.

Or, maybe, it’s much more practical than that. I remember my very first day on the very first Camino I did with my father. As he saw pilgrims approaching with their huge packs, he asked, “Why are they carrying their backpacks? Don’t they know you don’t have to carry them?”

Thankfully, there are very few rules when it comes to doing the Camino. No one says you have to drink water out of the fountains. But I do. Because I figure if it wasn’t good for me, my body would’ve told me by now. 

No one says you have to sleep in a hostel. I did last night. It was me and three other men so the women’s bathroom was all mine. And I have a bathroom all to myself again tonight as I’m in my own room. It’s not the nicest accommodation ever. But, another lesson from the Camino: it’s only one night. 

No one says you have to eat three meals a day. Joe and I finished lunch at four. I won’t eat anything again until tomorrow morning. My body says it’s perfectly happy. And would rather sleep at the moment.

So I’m off to give my body what it needs.