Behind the Albergue Door: Inspiration Agony Adventure on the Camino de Santiago

clothes and throw my shoes into the river. Gonna get a hotel room too and just sit there in the dark for hours and hours and just enjoy the silence. Every night its just so loud, always snoring and belching and farting. I am so sick of all these old people.
    Thinking about going to see Madrid for a few days after Santiago. Some friends are going (you remember Rob and Tania that I told you about?) and everyone says its an awesome place.
    Can’t wait to see you, love you lots
    Dill



Most Memorable Moments
    People often ask me what the highlights of the Camino were and I always have a hard time answering. There were just so many that it is hard to know where to start, and I would be willing to bet that if you asked ten different people you would get ten different answers. But when it comes to the most memorable, meaningful and/or spectacular moments along the Camino the following stand out in my mind, in no particular order. Well, actually, more or less in chronological order, now that I look at them more closely:
    Crossing the Pyrenees from St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles.
    Unquestionably the most difficult uphill stretch of the entire hike. The fact that it was day 1 for most pilgrims added some conflicting elements to the difficulty as well. On the positive side, everyone was eager and excited, we had been mentally prepared by everything we had read and everyone we had talked to, and we were still ailment-free. Well, except for those lunatics that actually chose to start an 800 kilometre hike while already suffering from some injury or another - a bad knee, a broken toe, a sensitive scrotum, for example. It’s taking that old tough guy sports refrain, “just walk it off”, a little too far if you ask me. Of course, as usual, no one asked. Unfortunately, the downsides of starting on such a demanding section were numerous as well. Other than those rare few who actually trained in anticipation of this expedition, most were basically throwing their bodies to the wolves, so to speak, going from a sedentary office job and a couple relatively motionless travel days to climbing up a mountain while carrying a backpack considerably larger than the over-the-shoulder laptop case that had represented the height of physical labour for them over the past few years. Packing was also a problem for many, as it took several days to work out the most comfortable way to organize their packs, not to mention weeding out every spare item they suddenly realized they could live without after all, now that it came to lugging it up and down hills for eight hours a day. Bottom line, between the physical hardships, the stunning views over the peaceful green hills and placid rural villages, the excitement of commencing a month long journey of fortitude and supposed epiphany, and the camaraderie of being surrounded by dozens of like-minded pilgrims, well, I think it’s safe to say everyone comes away with a clear and lasting impression of day 1.
    Cold clear morning leaving Burguete
    This one obviously owes much of its haunting impression to the whims of the weather but nonetheless provided a couple of hours that stand out in my mind when I try to summarize what the Camino was all about. It was the first time (of many to come) that I felt compelled to stop and just soak it in. Gazing around at the tranquil, frost-covered rural scene that was like something out of some dead gay guy’s painting, I almost found myself getting choked up, thinking that this , this is why I was here, trying to clumsily extract my penis from my pants without taking off my gloves so that I could take a piss and wondering what would happen if the stream connected with the electrified barbed-wire fence.
    Alto de Perdón
    This was the next really impressive viewpoint. First day out of Pamplona, a highly picturesque ridge with a large stone monument, clusters of atmospheric wind turbines and a whole ménage of life-sized metal figures depicting a group of diverse pilgrims leaning hard into the prevailing winds. An extraordinary setting at any time, it was made even more so by the evocative and blinding fog we had hiked through all morning which, by some magical trick of timing, deigned to part ever so briefly just as we arrived at the top, presenting us with unparalleled views of the surrounding countryside spreading out from the foothills of the imposing ridge as it curved off into the distance. Plus, we talked to a couple bikers who were absolutely hating life,