The Santiago’s Way has been a personal pending since time immemorial but living so many years outside Spain the possibility of a transoceanic trip to do it did not arise with the necessary solidity.
All the references I have received from people who have done the Camino are positive. Beyond the expected physical -and climatic- difficulties, the pilgrims transmit an atmosphere of peace and collaboration.
I’m going to take the road as an opportunity for inner growth, and to that end I’m going to take the opportunity to confront – or, rather, not avoid – some things I’ve never found pleasant, such as sleeping in shared rooms – or shared bathrooms. I’ve also promised myself to try any food I’m offered – even if it’s cured cheese – and I’m going to try to listen more than I talk. Not bad.
The arrival route is conditioned by the transportation logistics between Cordoba and Seville, which is the closest airport to reach Galicia. The flights I have chosen are those that, due to the timetable, allow me to use public transport to get around, except for the return to Seville, where I arrive a little late to catch the last train or bus. I still have to define what I do after landing. I have created an account in Bla Bla Car and I have found a person who miraculously leaves from Seville Airport and goes to Cordoba that same night, but she has not yet accepted me as a companion. I hope I am lucky.
I will spend a total of 7 days on the trip. I will do the typical route of 5-6 days ~100+ km to count as a pilgrimage and sleep in pilgrim hostels and eat the pilgrim menu. I think one week is not bad as a first contact with El Camino.
During the last few months I have experienced a remarkable change in my physical condition. I have gained some consistency in my exercise routine which has led me to enjoy the sessions at the gym and in the pool. On the cardio side I am not, however, in great shape. This is another challenge I want to overcome on this Camino.
Arriving to Sarria
The trip was long because the public transport schedules are not optimal; it took me 11 hours to get there. Cloudy sky but pleasant temperature.
As usual, unless it is a special date – such as a long weekend – I prefer not to make a reservation. Improvising has its charm: I have a bed in a mixed room for 20 people… where there is only a married couple at the other end. So the first day: no stress, the hostel (almost) just for me 🙂
With time only for dinner, I headed towards Malecón street, on the banks of the Sarria river, which is picturesque as it passes through the town.
A short walk around the area then heading to the hostel to try to rest for tomorrow.
One issue I was concerned about was the weight of my backpack. I had already twice gone through the recommended process: empty it all on top of the bed and discard, no matter what, 20% of its contents/weight. It would only have made a difference to me, weight-wise, to leave the sleeping bag at home, or the raincoat. I couldn’t weigh it but I estimate that my backpack would weigh 11 or 12 kg. However, a maximum of 10% of body weight is usually recommended. Strictly speaking, that recommendation is an approximation because there are items that weigh the same in the backpack regardless of your body weight -duuuh-. But I understand that it is a good utopian approximation for those of us who weigh less than 90 kg. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
When I came back from dinner at a bar on the Malecón at night, I saw that there was movement in the cafeteria of the hostel where I was staying. I looked in and saw that they were watching soccer: Champions League, Monaco vs Barcelona. So I cheered up and thought I would have a beer watching the game with the locals. When I tried to open the door of the cafeteria, it was locked from the inside. The owner/manager – who had served me for check-in earlier that afternoon – half-opened the door and told me it was closed. I apologized, told him I didn’t know it was closed and that I just wanted to watch Barça, but that I could turn around no problem. The man then opened the door so I could pass and told me that those were his friends who were meeting to watch soccer together, but that the bar could not be -officially- open. To which I nodded, ordered myself a beer, and enjoyed the game surrounded by Galicians swearing in Aramaic-Galician because Barça was losing. Good vibes to start the journey.
Thanks for reading! You may keep exploring using the menu below