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When we began in France, 43 days ago on the eastern mountain range of the Camino de Santiago, we hiked 7 km on our first day. We were nervous, in over-our-heads, excited puppies and 7 was all we had to give.
On the western mountain range about 650 km away, we killed 28 km on our first day. These ladies here, they are trail tough. We are get-it-done, save your cryin’ for your mama, hardcore girls. The local Spanish call Claire a cabra de montaña (mountain goat) and Charlotte hasn’t let anyone pass her on an uphill in over a week. They got mountains to climb, so move along with your blistered feet.
We have been through two seasons and six regions, and have hiked our bodies into Galicia. Since the beginning, Jake and I held getting to the end pretty lightly. Someone on the trail would ask how far we were going. We would say, “yeah we just want to see how far we can get.” But seeing the sign for Galicia, Jake turned to me and said, “Wow, you know, I think we are gonna make it”. Ummm. Yeah we are! Never doubted it for any of the seconds, except for all of them.
It isn’t just the girls either. Jake and I are getting this hiking thing down as well. Jake’s pack is SO heavy, like a bull should be carrying it heavy, but whenever I would suggest lightening his load, he would say, “or I could just get stronger.” Well, he got stronger, strong like a bull. I have done a lot of hiking, but my trips usually end around day 10, which is right about the time I would get comfortable with my pack, figure out my sock combination, and when I could cardiovascularly “look up.” Turns out that when you look up, it is gorgeous. And hiking in gorgeous is way better than hiking as you look down through the sweat at your boots.
The path of the Camino itself in many ways has become our constant. With all the different, it is our same. I’m not entirely sure when exactly it happened, but at one point I realized my attachment. We have been across a country but never more than a few steps away from the Camino. It has provided our family with shelter, food, water, and friendships in an unknown land. There is a tinge of anxiety every time we wander away from the yellow arrows, and a rush of comfort when the yellow arrow appears in front of us. It has given each of us a sense of belonging, where we do not belong.
We have not seen much wildlife, but we are now in Galicia so there are bulls everywhere. The Camino is the most efficient way to travel across the north of Spain, so we frequently share our path with sheep, chickens and of course the bulls. In general they ignore us, although important to note that if you find yourself on the same trajectory, bulls have the right of way.
Then there is also that moment when you realize the color of your hat.
We are at the last 100 km, so there are many others who are joining us into Santiago. We met the first kids since the start today that were Charlotte’s age, an 11-year-old from Columbia and another from Holland. The girls would say the hardest part of the Camino for them is not seeing other kids. I thought we would, but apparently this isn’t a normal family vacay. But we think it should be. In fact, the girls were having a conversation yesterday about whether they like Disney or the Camino better. The fact that this is even a conversation that a 7-year-old is having, made all of us realize how well we are doing. So 100 km more - feeling strong and positive. Vale, vamos chicas.
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