“Don’t you have the Camino app?” The Holland man asked me yesterday, while we waited outside the hostel.
“THERE'S A CAMINO APP?! No! I’m trying to disconnect! I’m trying to actually do a pilgrimage!”
Yep. There’s a Camino APP now. That’s where everyone has been making their reservations. I abhor it.
But those long days of walking and then having nowhere to stay…suck. They rush my walk too because I feel the pressure to get to the hostel quickly so I can find somewhere before dark. It’s no way to camino, and I came here to destress.
The injured American, Emily, showed me the app. Seeing that the next major stop was completely full, I booked a hostel in the nearest town I could find.
I spent some time chatting with Emily yesterday. The man from Holland was rude to her, and I saw it. There was a lot going on - hostel drama, plus some classic sexism of bullying her about her age (she's in her 40s, he's got to be in his 60s):
"Aren't you a little old to not have children?"
"Why no husband?"
"Wow you're older than my wife. Bet that makes you feel bad."
All casual, totally not personal questions from a stranger right?
"I went to high school with someone who died at 30, so I'm actually overwhelmingly happy to have made it to my 40s."
GOD I love when women get to the point in their lives they stop giving a single fuck.
She was calm but firm in her responses, but she'd give me a knowing side eye while I was in and out of our shared room and the bathroom like:
When it was just the two of us in the room for four, I got to know Emily a little better. She quit her job five years ago to travel and doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon (except for these next two days, because her foot has to heal).
We talked about how women are socially conditioned to always be "nice" to people, particularly to men, even to a flaw. (Not saying being nice is bad, but this is a thing, AND, again, anything in excess is toxic.) She said setting boundaries is something she's been working on, which is hard after 40 years of not doing it.
"I've been working with my therapist on setting boundaries for thre past three years," I told her. I told her about a book mine had assigned me.
I've joked for the last ten years that I didn't plan anything I've done. "I've just stumbled through life saying yes," I frequently tell people. And I do think that started on the Camino. My first "yes" was deciding to join two strangers on their pilgrimage without my backpack.
But I've always struggled with "no." It's frowned upon for women, and there are many other factors as well that can make this difficult for people (family dynamic, religion, etc.).
I remembered today that also on my first Camino, a friend and I walked into a small yoga shop in a town. I don't remember the town, but it was early in the trip. The store owner each gave us a small rock that apparently came with a message.
"This is to remind you to keep saying no," she told me, as she pressed it into my hand.
I was uncomfortable. I didn't know what it meant or what to do about it. But I remembered it today, talking with Emily. I still have that little rock at home.
When we woke up this morning, the Holland man was gone. The older French woman in our room was soon to follow. I was packing up and chatting with Emily when I realized I'd...lost my sunglasses. This is a big deal for me. I'm extremely light sensitive after my second concussion from a car accident. This is more than a comfort for me, it's how I cope with a disability. If I'm in too much light, I literally pass out. We searched the room and my bag and couldn't find them.
I tried not to get mad at myself for losing them.
How could you lose something so important?
But hey, at least I'm getting away from that scarcity! I'm not looking around for my missing amounts of stuff as much.
I said goodbye to Emily. I have some rest days planned so I might see her again after her foot heals, but I’m not sure. Pilgrim friends come in many tenures. Some are for life, some you see every now and then, and some you only see for one night.
Wait. Did I just make the Camino sound like dating? Barf.
I set out to try to find some cheap sunglasses replacements. Mine were prescription, but a minor one. It's not like I'm driving anywhere over here. I tried to stay calm. I ate breakfast while waiting on a store to open. I went back to the restaurant from the night before. I found an atm, which I needed anyway. And eventually I found a pharmacy with sunglasses. PRAISE BE!
It took an hour, but knowing I already had my hostel booked for the night did help me take my time.
In addition to showing me the app, Emily also helped me get European phone service for pretty cheap. It's not unlimited, but it's enough for me to use Google Maps when I need it. I hate it, but it's necessary for this modern pilgrimage. Too many hostels are closed, too many people are booking ahead, and there are too many route changes for only the traditional guidebook.
Today when I walked, I put the phone on airplane mode still, unless I needed to check my location. I did notice I was more at peace with the reservation and the phone option. I wasn't worried about getting lost. I wasn't worried about hurrying for a bed. I could enjoy my walk and just think. And it must have helped me get out of scarcity mode, because I was leaving my shit all over the place (obrigado cafe owner who chased me down to bring me my trekking poles).
I don't want to hate change as I get older. I really don't like people I meet who are like that, regardless of age. Today reminded me that the world will keep evolving, and I’m going to have to keep setting boundaries with the technology.
I arrived at my RESERVED HOSTEL BED, and looked ahead for the next day. It's hard to find availability anywhere. So I sadly spent an hour booking my stay for the next few days wherever I could find room. Most of them aren’t even hostels, they’re private rooms, since there just aren’t enough of them with the albergues closed. I stopped after reserving a few days, afraid to take all of the magic out of the spontaneity. So when I'm on the side of the road somewhere in a few days, y'all know why.
Kommentare