Ledigos Almost Killed Me

I don't believe in the traditional thinking that God doles out suffering upon His children. Or favors for that matter. I believe that suffering is an inevitable part of being in these bodies and in this form and in this life. I do believe that suffering will point us in the direction of where the answers to it can be found if we are open enough to lay aside our own agendas in order to see the blessings that are there that Spirit is ever willing to show us. This would be such a day for me.

Arose early as usual after a hard night of sleep on a hard mattress.  Out the door and into the cool dark Spanish morning. By the way in case you didn't know, the pictures I post are the sunrises always at our backs in the east, when we remember to turn around and look at them.

Today for some reason, my back was hurting.  We were 17k into the start on the long hot meseta.  I had started out tired and it didn't get any better as the day went on.  I am not a drama queen, yet I had a couple of internal meltdowns already. John could tell I wasn't doing so well but was helpless to do anything for me except grab whatever food he had in his pack to offer me. That or a rest.  The sun was relentless and the road stretched out for miles ahead like a desert with no end in sight.  That really plays with your mind. Or it definitely did mine.

We stopped at one of the huge hay stacks so common in this country for the bit of shade it offered.  We took off our shoes to massage our feet.  I will say that we are having absolutely no foot issues aside from aching feet at the end of the day.  John got out some nut mix which provided a nice salt replacement and some chocolate.  Howard from New York came to join us and we figured out that we had met him on our first night in St. Jean so long ago. He was so upbeat and asking if we would come back and do this again. How can you tell at this point? I wasn't having a very good day so my first thought was no but I didn't want to harsh Howard's buzz. The way I was feeling, I never wanted to see this damned Camino ever again. I hid behind my forced smile and the way I was truly feeling about that day.

Only 6k ahead to an albergue. I needed to stop. There was a place I thought might be a cafe where I could take short refuge, but it turned out to be a mirage. Another haystack with an empty barn.  As I walked along the dirt track with the road next to it, I wondered at the passing cars.  Did they notice my slight stumbles from the pain shooting through my feet? Did they notice me at all? Did they care one bit? Could they see the tears streaming down my cheeks behind my sunglasses under my hat as I looked down at my walking shadow and saw the same gait as my children, their feet in my feet, my daughters shape in my shadow.  Did they know how much I missed them? Sometimes the body makes us think we are the only ones in the world.

We finally entered the small ghost town of Ledigos and the small rustic albergue where we hoped there would be a bed. The next place was 3k further away. I knew most of our friends had bypassed this desolate place (I'll be kind and not say dump) and moved on. I could not.  We checked in, and got our bunk in a room that could not be described any more honestly than as like a barn.  I showered and wondered where we were going to find a meal.  Someone said there was a small tienda so we went off to find it.  No luck. A lot of these small rural towns in Spain have literally been abandoned by the young people who have all gone off to the cities to find work.  The only ones left are old people.  We walked up empty street after empty street going around a maze of what seemed like endless circles and approached an old woman ironically washing and shining up her mailbox. We asked about a store and were answered with no, next town.... Exhausted I gave up.

We soon figured out the store was attached to the albergue so we bought a tomato and a veggie soup mix to possibly cook in the kitchen, not having the energy to cook anything more elaborate.  There was a boisterous group of pilgrims monopolizing the place, cooking pasta, drinking wine and laughing.  I was so tired I went back to the bunk.  John checked later and they were still there, no dishes washed and ignoring anyone who came in after. By then I had already gone to sleep and don't know if I would have been able to muster the strength to get up to cook anyway.  We went to bed at 6:30 and didn't get up until the same time the next morning listening to the rain pour down on that barn roof all night long washing away the pain of the previous day.  As I could be alone that next morning, all I could think of was what I had to be thankful for instead of the previous days hardship.  A great nights sleep and a new day in front of us.