This Camino isn’t exactly what we anticipated… but then again, I’m not sure we ever truly knew what we were getting ourselves into. Vague notions of spiritual awakening? Panoramic views and perfectly crusty bread? Fewer hills, maybe?
Whatever we thought it would be, this is our Camino and all of its unexpected detours, rogue weather, and joint complaints are officially part of the story now. No refunds, no exchanges.
On the way to Santander, Poo and I had to have a little heart-to-heart with ourselves (and our feet). We’ve officially reached the two-week mark, and what a ride it’s been. A scenic, sweaty, snack-filled rollercoaster.
Unfortunately, we’ve come to the conclusion that we won’t be able to complete the full 500-mile northern route.
Between the rugged terrain, some aging body parts that clearly didn’t read the memo, and the ever-charming development of injury ………. it’s time to pivot.
Still, we’ve made a valiant effort to cover as much ground as possible—charging forth like slightly creaky explorers, but now it’s time to make some smart, if slightly less heroic, decisions.
By the end of Day 13, we had clocked in 149.5 miles (yes, we’re counting the .5—it counts) and arrived in Santander. There, we made a new plan: two nights of rest, a touch of sightseeing, and an exciting trip to the pharmacy where all Camino injured pilgrims go.
Poo needed more bandaids, not for the dreaded blisters but to cushion a few stubborn sore spots that just won’t stop protesting.
As for me? Let’s just say the knee is not enjoying the rainy days. (Classic arthritis)
And ………. just to spice things up, a new pain in the foot has RSVP’d to the party.
The pharmacist, in all her quiet wisdom, recommended a compression sock. She even measured my ankle with surprising speed and precision, then handed me one that now has a permanent place in my footwear rotation. I’ve been dutifully wearing it while limping ……..
I mean, sightseeing, around Santander like the most stylish pilgrim.
The highlight of the city for us was the majestic Catedral de Santander. The lower part church of El Santísimo Cristo serves as the crypt and contains the original furnace box that held the patron saints’ skulls.
These skulls have since received a bit of an upgrade, now encased in silver and brought out for festival processions like very solemn VIPs. Beneath your feet, a glass floor reveals ancient Roman remains, because apparently, in Spain, even the floors have history.
We’re hopping a train tomorrow for Day 15, skipping ahead in hopes of hiking the final leg of the trail that leads us into Santiago.
And before anyone dares accuse us of cheating, let me remind you of the painand suffering we’ve endured so far. Remember the “Cliff-hanger Episode”? The rain-induced arthritis? How about the elevation gain so far?
We’ve put in the miles, used up most of the Voltarun and I just don’t have many dramatic sighs left. We’re just ……. Uhm …… strategically editing the route now. Ya, that’s it!
Call it what you want: survival, adaptation, or a very scenic detour, (hopefully), but onward to Santiago we go (with a little help from the Spanish rail system).
Xoxo, Kate
Love you and Pope Francis’ blessing!