It’s 10.30pm in St Jean Pied de Port, the starting point of the French Way of the Camino de Santiago. I should already be sleeping. But a stuffy nose and jitters are keeping me up. Tomorrow, I will start the almost 780km trek to Santiago de Compostela.
I am wondering what I am doing here… I decided to do this walk almost a year ago. It seemed like the perfect way of taking some time to reflect as I entered into Middle Age. Now, I’m not so sure…
I thought I would be better prepared, but time flew and work kept me so busy up until this moment that today was the first time I even opened the guide book. I thought I would have all the questions that needed to be answered by the Camino. Instead, there’s just an empty space (and a fear of bedbugs and cold showers).
Perhaps it is all about letting go? But in that case, I’m holding on to too much in my backpack. Although the packing has been slimmed down, I refuse to give up essentials like warm, comfy clothes and a decent luch!
Tomorrow is one of the toughest parts of the whole trek; 27km and almost 1,200m gain in altitude. Either the foie gras will break me, or it will sustain me. I suppose I’ll know tomorrow.