Last night

Camping outside of Sevilla was not something that I was looking forward to after a 100-mile (160km) ride from Córdoba. Even though I made good time into the city, I did not arrive in time to hit up the tourist info center, and I was left to my own bearings to find lodging. With hostels starting at 30€ per night (seems to be standard), and the nearest campsite being 10km outside of downtown, I wandered aimlessly for a while thinking of what better options there could be, when there it was, right beneath my fee. No, not the floor. Instead, I saw the shell that marks the Camino de Santiago, my old friend. One of the less-traveled routes to Santiago goes through Sevilla, so here there is an albergue. After much wandering around looking for it (most locals don't even know it exists, or what the Camino is), I discovered that the albergue is in a convent and closed for the seasons. But they pointed me to a youth hostel that hosts pilgrims. With my pilgrim credentials, they put me up for 15€ per night, breakfast included. So, even though it´s a little more than I wanted to pay, it´s a good deal.

A striking thing about youth hostels is that, as far as travelers go, it's probably the most common form of lodging for young, budget travelers. This, I imagine, is only striking to me, being this the first one I have hit up in my many weeks traveling. Although it's fairly sterile, one really nice thing about it, like with the albergues on Camino de Santiago is that arriving there guarantees you a community of people who are ready and willing to share their experiences with you. It's not traditional Seville, but it's a big part of what traveling is about.

My roommates last night were two great characters. Toni, 27, is a flamenco guitarrist from Valencia. I knew we´d hit it off the minute he walked through the door with a guitar in hand. He is here for a year of studying at a flamenco-specific institute, and after a little while trading stories, it was only a matter of time before we traded some licks and taught each other some music. At midnight we were interrupted by a knock which we though was intended to quiet us down, but instead it was our third roommate, Pablo, a Chilean guy in his 50s who moved to Spain 6 years ago and has been working for a traveling fair that is set up in town for another month. The whole scene reminded me of how you begin making friends in institutional settings like arriving at college. We talked until we were too tired to continue, and as we were going to bed, Pablo, said something that stuck with me. He said that traveling is like reading books, you learn something and you learn something about yourself. Engrossed in "Don Quixote", his words rang true, and suddenly I was no longer sad that this trip is coming to an end.

I also realized that my long held belief that my three most sacred posessions are my guitar, bike, and laptop has lots of grounding in the fact that they are all three items that allow me to create and through which I create my own identity. It felt like a deep realization, good enough to put to bed and see if it would stand in the morning.