Meanderings & Musings

Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, France, February 27 It’s an early, 5 AM wake-up in the dorm. Somehow, this room that looked bright and airy yesterday, with a lovely view of the mountains, feels like a thick-stone-walled dungeon in the darkness. It’s filled with metal bunks, now creaking exceptionally, as pilgrims begin to rouse and start packing out. I’m not entirely certain that I've slept at all, between the sounds of this snoring, coughing, restless band of hikers. (My first surprise when I arrived at the hostel in town yesterday was the sheer number of travelers, as my main intent for choosing a winter Camino was to avoid the crowds.) Sleep is something I was anxious about with this trip. I’m a bad/light sleeper on a good day in my own bed with Benadryl and Ibuprofen for my shoulder issues. At some point during the night, I had a couple of thoughts about sleep related to pilgrim-life: 1) Sleep is a gift, not an expectation. I’ll be grateful for every bit that I get. 2) Eventually, I’...

  Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, France, February 26 I arrive in town via bus from Bayonne, France after spending a night (already a pivot from my plan, being delayed for hours yesterday due to a tragic incident on the rails, that made me miss my train connection). It was a stunning ride, and surreal in a lot of ways. I'm actually doing this: traveling through Europe like a boss! I continue to shock myself a bit on that account, I’ll admit. I had so much uncertainty about traveling alone internationally, finding my way in strange places, but here I am, doing what I felt incompetent or incapable of, or at least with significant doubt and trepidation of my abilities. Again, I never would’ve done it if I didn’t have this sense that it was the right thing, right time, going solo. I walk into town from the bus station, my only plan being to secure a bed promptly at the municipal hostel upon my arrival. Here’s what I know in advance about the place: no reservations allowed, dorms accommodate ...