Day 24: Castrojeriz - Boadilla del Camino (4/24/14)

THIS was the way out of town in the morning.

THIS was the view from halfway up,

looking back

at where we'd started.

THIS was the view at the top,

looking in the other direction 

at where we were headed.

As daunting as it was to look toward the horizon, 

see only path

and know that the only way out 

was your own two feet,

it was a measure of how far I had come,

mentally and physically,

that the sight didn't reduce me to tears.

It was what it was.

There were two reminders on the top 

of exactly what was getting me through.

Today was Edwina's last day on the Camino.

She was headed to Madrid, then home to Holland 

and her 'real' life

the following day -

well, her 'real' life  

after a vacation in Greece with her children.

Yeah, it was hard not to hate her!

As sad as it would be to say Goodbye to her,

I also knew MY Camino wasn't over.

Whatever it was I was meant to learn 

and experience on this journey 

hadn't been completed.

And, so we both walked on.

She racing ahead, 

already separating from me for most of the walk;

both of us testing out and remembering 

what it was like to travel alone; 

catching up long enough to confer on where we'd stop for the night,

then separating again.

It was another day of walking through South Dakota like country -

complete with Dakota skies.

I spent most of the time as I walked thinking about my time on the Rosebud reservation,

the people there and how much my connection with that very special place 

has shaped my life and my faith.

(See here for a glimpse, if interested.)

As I approached the town we'd decided to stop in, my heart sank.

It was the most pathetic 'town that time forgot' we'd been through yet.

I couldn't believe there was any decent place to stay here at all.

Then I walked through a decaying facade which identified the albergue -

and encountered an oasis,

where friends were already waiting for me, 

with adult beverages!

 Even as I write this, it makes me smile -

could there be a better description of heaven?

(And yes, it was also an object lesson 

in not judging what something - or someone- 

has to offer by their decaying facade;

which isn't a bad reminder at all as I go further into old age!)

I even got to sleep on a suspended balcony -

which felt very adventurous -

(and dangerous if you want the truth - 

but even riskier for the folks directly below us!)

But, despite fretting every time one of us moved or walked 

on the platform that night,

the next day dawned for us all.