Day 1.1: A Santiago - Via Autobus

Day 1.1: to Santiago - Via Bus

We sat ourselves down on the bus this morning, the first vehicle since the train to St. Jean. The first thought I had was that I shouldn't be on. It felt as if I was breaking some pilgrim rule or something, but most of the others that had walked to Finisterre were also taking the bus back. This made me feel a bit better about myself... 

While sitting on the bus passing most of the scenery we walked by the previous day, I became slightly annoyed. We were passing yesterdays halfway point and it had only been fifteen minutes. We were rushing past places where I had paused to steady my breathing. Mixed feelings rushed towards the surface; On one hand you have the fact that driving helps you go from point A to point B more quickly. On the other, you have all the experiences that you would have never been able to enjoy if you took a car or bus. You have the friendships that you made while hiking, and all those stories that only fellow pilgrims would understand. Explaining to someone the meaning of a shell or an arrow would be meaningless. They wouldn't understand the irony or hilarity of some of your situations that you had experienced. Some might think that your thoughts were morbid and situation horrible, and that wouldn't be true. In fact, you're laughing about it with someone who just walked through THAT desert, had just ran out of THEIR water, ate ALL their emergency food, just dealt with a BIG blister. And while having these conversations with people, you form a sort of family. A family that will be there everyday and actually understands your situations. A family that you may not ever see again, but you are closer than ever with. A family you tell EVERYTHING to, and they will not judge because we all have our own problems. 

I love it, the experience, in it's entirety. I will probably forget the hard times, and remember only the good, because there were much more amazing times than horrible, and why dwell in the negative? 

I think I would like to do another trip like this one. Maybe within the next few years, maybe when I'm old...maybe both. The feelings I have dealt with in the last thirty-four days of walking, I know that I will only be able to feel in full while doing something that pushes me and gives me a sense of complete happiness. I wasn't comfortable with my situation, I was happy with it. Yeah, I had a few blisters... Yeah, I was tired and achey. All that did was make it easier to begin conversations with strangers, then all that is left is the good stuff. :)

I'll probably be asked to tell people my favorite part of the whole trip, had I been asked earlier on I would have probably said the Fourth of July "party" that we had was great. Now I'm not so sure. It would be slightly cheesy to say the whole trip was fullnof awesomesauce happenings and that I cannot pick favorites, but to tell you something else would be lying, and as of this moment, cheesy feats lying all the way.

Something Auna and I were doing the other day seems pertinent to to my topic if writing, so I'm going to share it with you all. 

We were making up a song To sing along the trail and using tunes from well known songs to do so, and at this time we were singing to "The Twelve Days of Christmas," turned "The Ten Days of Camino." In this we said that our teacher had given us a seashell, blisters, baguettes, sliced cheese, swollen fingers, uphill climbs, injuries, holey socks, life lessons, and friendly letters.. This of course doesn't tell all that March has given us or helped us reach ourselves as much as it lets you know what Auna and I were thinking about in the middle of a normal walking day. It is true though, life lessons have definitely been given, and I would like to think received as well. 

I would like to thank March publicly for everything he put into this trip before, during, and what I know he will be doing after. March, you have been here for us through thick and thin socks, and stuck around even when our baguettes were just measly crumbs. Yes, I know technically you have that responsibility thing keeping you in check, but it doesn't matter. I wouldn't have been here, sitting in Santiago for the second time, writing in front of the cathedral, eating Milka with Auna, had it not been for you. I would not have experienced anything even close to this for probably my whole life. I like comfort zones, and I don't tend to leave mine often, unless I know the outcome. You have pushed my comfort zone, and I may not have enjoyed it at the time and I may have said some things, but the end effect and the memories are pretty amazing... And that feeling of what Auna calls superhuman, I have never felt before, until now. It was definitely worth every blister, ache, pain and annoyance on this trip. Thank you for helping me reach this. 

So a song that describes my mood at the moment: 'We No Speak Americano' by Yolanda Be Cool and Dcup. (Complete and utter awesomesauce... Check. It. Out.)

Sitting against the window, looking at the scenery as we pass at a greater speed than walking allows, and all I can think of is all those scenes in movies where the character is leaving someone or something that means so much to them and it's a really depressing scene and of course the writers/directors have sad piano song in the background, all the while the character jut sits there with either a completely blank face, or with one tiny tear makings its way down the side of their face...

I feel this way right now. Leaving Finisterre, looking out the window, "Come Home" by OneRepublic playing in my headphones, passing scenery that holds so many memories. I even have that blank look on my face and I know this because I can see my pitiful expression in the reflexion. Which makes me laugh out loud, literally. I am sad though, sad isn't a very descriptive word, but that sums it up nicely enough. However, I will be seeing my family, pets, and friends soon, and that cheers me up. :D

After feeling sorry for myself this morning, I remember thinking, "Wow, what a summer...and now its over..." Then I kept thinking --Uh-Oh Deija-- and I realized that we weren't really, we (everyone, including you, the reader) are never done. Life itself is a journey, and if you're my age your journey is just beginning. Camino is a Spanish word meaning "Journey" and I hope you all know what "Buen" means... So to all of you out there reading, Buen Camino!  

~~Deija:)