When you´re on the road, sometimes the wind hits from the front, sometimes from behind. Sometimes there is sun, sometimes there is rain. Sometimes the road is nice and smooth, sometimes it´s rough and bouncy. Today was one of those days that reminded me that this is the nature of long bike trips. It was about even split between great conditions and less than ideal, and I am happy it wasn´t worse than that. I am not looking forward to having to camp in the rain, but it is bound to happen.
It is unclear where the Camino de Santiago starts, but what is certain is that it goes, and has always gone through the town of Shahagun, where I am spending my first night in a pilgrim´s hostel. It is a converted monastery from centuries ago, giving it an appropriate feel for a pilgrim´s refuge. I have been surprised by the number of incredibly old buildings that have been left to ruin, and this is really the first example I have seen of one that has been refurbished for modern use. I get the sense that once buildings are too run down, it doesn´t make financial sense to maintain them, so they are just leveled and something new is built on top. Accustomed to the spirit of preserving the oldest history available in the US, I am shocked to see thousand year old houses along the road that are like old newspaper: all it takes is your touch in order to make them crumble.
The building has an impressive 72 beds and 10 or so showers, and free internet. There are volunteers who manage it, and it all seems to run pretty smoothly. I guess it is the spirit of the pilgrim to not be too needy, and by this stage in the journey (for most people walking the traditional route from Roncesvalles to Santiago this is several weeks into the trip), everyone is used to being respectful of others. As a cyclist, and one who is just using this pilgrimmage as a jumping off point for a longer trip, I feel a little bit an outsider of the group of walkers whose feet are torn up with blisters. I am also carrying a much larger load than most, as most people who decide to bike the route know they will never need to set up a tent. I overheard the guy who manages the place say that a "true" pilgrim walks, often sleeps outside, carries very little, maybe not even a credit card or much cash, and relies on people´s hospitality to get him to the destination. He called the rest of us "pilgrim´s lite", using the english word reminiscent to me of watered down beer.
I wanted to devote a small section of today´s entry to pointing out that my day on the saddle is incredibly pleasant most of the time, but that it doesn´t cancel out the fact that I am spending 5-6 hours daily sitting on a small piece of nylon and plastic, pushing 60+ pounds of stuff around. I am in pain, especially my butt. It is a pain that is familiar from my days biking across the US, but happily it is a pain that recedes, and pales in comparison to the positive feelings that come from spending so much of my day outside, experiencing and exploring the world in such an amazing way.
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