The Beginning

I am a day ahead on my Camino, but not on purpose. Yesterday I meant to only walk 30 kilometers, but ended up walking 45 kilometers, or 28 miles, because I thought the route would go through the town I was meaning to stay at for the night, but it didn't, and I didn't realize it until I was 10 kilometers passed it. I could have either walked back the 10 km or walked forward another 14 km to the next stop, so I decided to walk forward. Before I headed on I stopped on the side of the road to take a quick rest and eat an apple, when a lady named Lily stopped and asked where I was headed. When I told her I had 14 more kilometers to go (this was at 6 in the evening), she offered me a ride. I couldn't turn her down. My body was sore and I was especially tired from the sun beating down on me all day. I could barely function. She gave me a ride to my next stop, and thank goodness she did because when I got there I found out the hostel I was planning to stay at was closed, so I had to find other lodging. Had I gotten there any later I may not have figured out where to stay.

This is what I have learned about Portugal so far: the people here are so kind and willing to help. When I arrived in Lisbon a few days ago, I was looking for the Cathedral where I needed to pick up my Pilgrim's Passport. I stopped and asked a lady for directions and she walked with me part of the way, and then a couple guys came up to me when they could see I was lost and showed me the way. Yesterday I had the experience with Lily, and this morning, when I went to pay for my breakfast, the lady only charged me 1.50 euros for a coffee and a pastry, and gave me a muffin for free being a Pilgrim. It almost made me cry.

My body hurts like hell and my feet are sore. I'd forgotten how painful walking all day with a heavy pack on can be. I am exhausted at the end of the day, and by the time I get to my next stop I can barely walk. But then there is the miracle of sleep! It's amazing how the body heals itself after a night of rest. I'm looking forward to bed tonight.

My last night in The Netherlands I told Lyn, Alef, and Adriaan the story of the 06 female wolf. Typically when a pack needs food, two wolves are needed to catch the prey. The 06 female, however, could do it all on her own. She was strong and beautiful and all the male wolves wanted to mate with her, she could have had the strongest male, but she chose two of the weaker ones, because, it is speculated, she wanted to remain the leader of the pack. I told Lyn, Alef, and Adriaan that I wanted to be like the 06 female, to which Alef exclaimed, "you are somewhat of a feminist aren't you?" It made me laugh. Of course I am a feminist, but I think my form of feminism is based on how strong women are. I'm all about women getting equal rights, but I think more than anything I want it to be acknowledged that women are strong and capable. Not just physically, but also, and more importantly, mentally. I am a strong, independent female.

With that said, I understand where I am priviledged and where I am in danger. When I told my friend Adriaan about how my creepy couchsurfing host in Paris tried to have sex with me, he said, "you can't do anything about it if you are a beautiful girl and people want to have sex with you." It is such bullshit that as a woman I have to worry about disgusting men who will attempt to have sex with me at any cost. There have already been a few times on this Camino where I have felt to the need to have my pepper spray in hand, ready to go at any moment, because a man was staring at me for too long. I hate it. But then I also recognize that the help I have been offered on the road so far is probably because I am a single woman walking alone and people are concerned for me. I wonder if I were a guy, if I would be treated the same way? I actually kind of doubt it. There are benefits and disadvantages to both.

I am also trying to figure out what love is. WHAT IS LOVE? I think it means different things to different people. I met a woman, Ans, on my first day of walking. She was a beautiful 70 year old woman from The Netherlands who is also doing the Portguese Way. I asked her what she thought love was and she said, "love is taking care of another person." She talked about how on one of their first dates, her husband changed her bike tire for her, and how he was gentle and kind to her. That's how she knew she loved him. Years later she was diagnosed with cancer, and he cared for her through her treatment. She said that's was love was, and that's why she was in love with her husband. So beautiful. But then another person's idea of love might be different. What is my idea of love? I still don't know.