El Camino, pt. I

So, here's the lowdown on my first night in Sarria and the first day of the Camino. If you want to skip ahead to the pictures, please do; most of the stuff below is jejune little observations about the variously compelling people I met along the way.

On the train to Sarria, I sat next to a very kind member of the Civil Guard. He had a hilariously repetitive name which I won't publish for considerations of privacy, but it was more or less the Spanish equivalent of being named William Williams or something like that. Either way, he was very friendly and told me a lot about how the public perceives the civil guard (in short, very badly), what he thinks of Spanish culture (in short, it has some problems) and how he would like to move to Germany one day to live a more efficient and respectful life.

When our train arrived at the station in Sarria, I noticed another American and flagged her down. She and a friend of hers are studying abroad in Ireland this semester and they decided to do the Camino during Holy Week. Since we were both alone, we decided to spend the first night and day together, and her friend joined us the first morning. I wanted to walk the whole way with them, but we ended up getting separated on Wednesday night when an albergue refused to accept a photocopy of my passport as proper identification. We met some interesting people during the day, though.

There was Wilhelm, a seventy-four year-old German man who was on his fourteenth Camino. He began in (I believe) Saint Guilhelm, France, and had been walking for about a month. He told us that he had two daughters of whom he was very proud, but that his life has also been unlucky. When I asked him to elaborate, he said something along the lines of, "I have had little luck with my women friends" before finishing his beer and going back on the road.

I also met some awesome Spaniards and a Spanish-speaking Englishman on the first night in the albergue (a little inn for pilgrims). We talked everything from blisters to Spain's political climate to the economic crisis to Spanish poetry. Though I certainly didn't understand every word, it was very empowering to feel so in-control of my linguistic abilities, and it made me want to work even harder to improve my Castilian so that maybe one day I can learn other languages as well.

As for the Camino itself, Wednesday was a long day; I think we left from Sarria around 8:00 a.m. and I arrived in my albergue, Casa Molar, around 6:30 p.m. I walked about 35 kilometers because I wanted to start off strong with my fresh feet, but I was definitely aching by the end of it. The shower I took that night was one of the best I think I've ever had, and it wasn't even a particularly fancy shower or anything. I simply felt as though I'd earned the aches and pains through working toward a really cool goal.

I apologize for not writing something more linear or concise, but what matters is that I took lots of photos, right?

Peregrinos on horseback, Sarria

The first of many river/stream/brook photos

Sarria at night, from the hill near our albergue, which was also a functioning monastery

There was an ostrich on the trail

Portomarín

The Belesar Reservoir from the bridge to Portomarín

High in the hills after Portomarín

Day's end (nearly)