Even Here

It's been said that "El Camino es magico," which was continually confirmed through the mountainous landscape of the Pyrenees and the unending grape vines of vineyards... it felt true while picking cherries and blackberries off trees for lunch and capturing unending fields of flowers in film. 

But as the terrain changes from green to brown and the mountains flatten to plains of rocky sand, each step is another painful reminder of how far Santiago feels. I have begun to countdown to the inevitable beer and nap at an albergue after another 25-30k daily through what could be cornfields of Iowa.

the beauty of the Pyrenees : Day One.

It's no coincidence that halfway through the Camino you are no longer lingering in the initial beauty of luscious greenery, rather walking through the literal desert... the dreaded "meseta" where water is scarce and shade is non-existent. Sleepy pilgrims' alarms ring around 4am as they race to hit the path before the blazing sun rises high to scorch the neck as we walk west-ward. The once peaceful path now feels like a competitive drive towards shelter to secure a bed in a town ahead. Pilgrims are desperate to escape this desert field by knocking out a 40k day with no breaks or sending their bags ahead via bus.

... the landscape these days.

So while I fight the 4 painful blisters that reside on each foot, readjust my pack to lift off sore shoulders, take off my 2 pairs of socks to stretch every 2hrs, and re-plant my stick into the road before me, I try to remember why I am here. I pray and I write and I sing and I play games with others in distraction from the obvious misery of heat and sand. This part of the path has also been the most solitary... because I guess that's what it truly means to go through the desert.

It is so comforting when the first sign of a town appears through the fields of brown.

I clearly responded in shock the other day when a pilgrim friend told me La Meseta is his favorite part of the Way, as this is the stint that feels "the most spiritual." He went on to say that when we are free from the distractions of our surroundings or other people, we have only one choice - to draw near to God. In taking his words to heart, I know I do not walk through the desert alone... God is here with me still - and what a picture I hope to carry into life as I walk in days beyond the Camino. 

For now it feels tiring and unending, but I know arrival is impossible unless I go through even the lonely and hard times. It's in these moments that faith is tested... It's in the challenge of going forward in the difficulty, not just the lovely, where we choose to trust and say God is enough. Although I fail at this over and over again, the desert has provided many faith-building moments to search and believe He is here.

the guideposts that mark my way

Once I arrive in Santiago, I'll know that this part of the pilgrimage was worth it... But for now it's still a matter of convincing myself that's true each morning as I lace up the boots and continue to walk with one foot in front of the other.