Mendilaueta

Well the weather app nailed it. We had breakfast at the Hostal and put our ponchos and gaiters on and hit the road at about 8:30. Only 21km today. We can handle anything for 5ish hours right? We are strong women, we have the kit to get us through. What’s a little rain? It’s just water.
We hiked up, up, and up out of San Sebastián in the pouring rain, like really pouring. Thunder, lightning, and water rushing down the trail like a creek. After a couple hours we are completely soaked. It was coming down so hard we ducked under someone’s house overhang and thought we’d wait for it to lighten up. No such luck. Soaked shoes and socks are a great recipe for blisters. The longer I stood there the harder it was coming down. I looked at the girls and said ‘I’m out’. I didn’t want to slip on the rocks/mud and mess my knee up again. From that point on it was 16km with no towns. No way to get help if hurt. I felt like a loser for a minute, but then felt like I was making a smart call. We decided to knock on the door of the house we were huddled under to call a taxi. Holly has the best Spanish, so she went and knocked on the door. No answer. Nathalie said she was going to keep going, even though the thunder and crackling lightning was really intimidating her. Holly said she was with me. No need to get hurt and stranded for this. We went to find the bus stop we passed. Didn’t know the schedule or anything. Just as we were walking away, a man came out on the balcony. Elated, we asked if he could call us a cab. He agreed but came back out a few minutes later saying no one was answering, taxis are busy in the rain. He said he’d drive us to the bus stop. He opened his trunk, we threw our packs in and hopped in. I got good vibes from him. Nice man, middle aged, and so helpful. He said this rain was way too much for pilgrims and not safe. He ended up driving us all the way to Zarautz to our hostel. Bless him. I tried to give him €50 and I got the impression he was offended as he adamantly refused. Holly, on her way out of his car, left €10 in the middle console, something, but not so much to offend him. He SAVED us. So kind. It’s Saturday, raining, and I think that’s the only reason he was home. We get to the hostal and of course it’s too early to check in so we changed into dry clothes, put our sandals on and went next door for coffee. It’s a lovely place, they even had almond milk for Holly to have a hot chocolate. We felt so blessed. God is good.
Then I broke down. I hate that our first official day went like this. The Camino presents challenges and we work through them, we don’t get a ride to the next town. I was disappointed in myself. Also, I had a really vivid dream of my Dad, who passed away last year, it was so real. He was sitting on my couch, he cried, shook his head, and said “I’m sorry, Tammy.” He looked like I’ve never seen him. My dad doesn’t cry. My dad was an unapologetic man who justified his actions/decisions, or just plain didn’t acknowledge his shortcomings. What was this dream all about? I don’t need an apology, I don’t need tears from him. But it’s messing my emotions up today especially with the rain. Shit day. We all have them. I didn’t expect this to happen so soon. My deep emotions usually start surfacing after a couple weeks on the trail, I was totally caught off guard and have been crying off and on for hours. It’ll pass, and Holly is so nice. As I was sniffling and crying like a baby, I muttered a “sorry” to her that she was witnessing my weak moment, she said “no more sorry’s for tears, they are going to come for me too”. What a doll, I’m with the right person here. Again, blessed.

The weather looks much much better going forward the next 10 days from what I can tell, so we will get after it tomorrow morning.

Ultreia.Читать далее