Stepping Onto the Camino
The morning air was crisp and fresh, exactly as early summer mornings should be. I tied my shoes, slung my backpack over my shoulders, and stepped outside, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Standing on Rue de la Citadelle in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, I felt slightly out of place in shoes that weren't broken in and a hat from Lollapalooza. It was June 2nd, 2018, and I was about to begin the Camino de Santiago.
As I paused to take in the early morning light, I tried to make sense of what I was doing and what lay ahead. Pilgrims passed me on the stone-paved road, moving steadily toward the horizon. After a moment of hesitation, I muttered to myself, "alright, let's go," and started following three women walking ahead. The sun shone bright, the clouds were few, and soon we left the village behind, stepping into the quiet beauty of the countryside.
Before long, the three women stopped, unsure of the path. Passing them confidently, I offered the best advice I could: "Yeah, I think so." That small interaction changed everything. What started as a solo journey quickly became a shared experience with new friends: Amy from the USA, Martha from the UK, and Tracey from Australia. Together we walked, talked, and climbed, gradually rising above the clouds with each step, the man-made world shrinking behind us.
Mid-morning brought us to Orisson, exhausted from the relentless uphill walk. We rested, refueled with water, and then continued, enveloped in fog and cool air that softened the climb. As the path curved and twisted through the mountains, I kept hoping each bend would reveal the summit. The trail left the paved road near the border of Spain, and after hours of ascending, we finally began our descent. The forest was dense and muddy, demanding full concentration, and I even slipped before exiting into Roncesvalles.
Arriving at our destination felt like a reward. Clean clothes, hot showers, and the warmth of shared meals with fellow pilgrims made the day's struggles feel worthwhile. The monastery dorms buzzed with laughter and conversation, and for the first time, I felt the Camino's sense of community. Tomorrow we would descend the Pyrenees toward Zubiri, hoping for dry trails and steady steps, ready for the next chapter of this unforgettable journey.