I don’t think there will be enough pages in this journal to tell my whole story. Apparently on paper I am as wordy as in person, maybe to make up for the lack of human interaction yesterday. At dinner last night no one spoke enough English, it just added to my exhaustion.

So today I didn’t make myself get up early. I set my alarm for 7:00 a.m. and when it went off I was the only one left. I took my time getting ready, repacking, eating breakfast, and doing foot care. I was going 15 km (11ish miles) and was fine talking all day. I hit the trail and met with Rosa and Empara again. They had stayed in Roncesvalles and received a blessing at mass. They passed it on to me through a hug. My feet were feeling a bit better thanks to my panaway oil. I was moving slow though, so they went on head of me. I was walking and enjoying the last coolness of the day when I heard an Australian accent behind me, it was Alice. I had met her the previous day, but then forgotten in my exhaustion. She was chatting with an American from California, Jack. Allen, Canadian, and Izzy, British, came along shortly and we made an interesting group of native English speakers. The fun thing about traveling in a group of many strangers is that at different points we would fall into different walking groups. The trail didn’t really allow for us to walk side by side all the time. It allowed us to have individual conversations and get to know each other based on mutual interests. It’s a good reminder that not everyone will always be interested in ever topic, and that is okay! It was interesting conversation within the group. It was interesting to get to know more about the respective locations they each live in. We all came from different backgrounds, but still felt connected because of our mutual desire to walk the Camino.

Back home, Jack, had worked for a poitician as an aid. Allen drives a Ferry Boat in Vancouver. Izzy was working for an NGO. Alice is currently in between positions. It is interesting the diverse work backgrounds we come from, in addition to the diverse countries and cultures. We discussed all kinds of life situations. I shared about my time in the military. So far I hadn’t mentioned my veteran status to anyone on the trail. I also hadn’t interacted at any length with too many people. I felt awkward and like it was inappropriate to identify myself as a veteran. This sensation came from my uncertainty about the response that individuals around the world have towards veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan War. Through discussing NGO’s, I brought up Team Rubicon and how it is in the USA, UK, Canada, Australia, and continuing to grow. This led to identifying as a veteran which led to discussion about my time during the wars and in the military. They were sensitive to how I felt discussing it, but I told them what I most often say. “It’s never easy, but I feel it’s valuable to discuss it in order to destigmatize it.” Most often when I say this I mean it. This time though, something inside of me felt like a robot. I think the nature of this pilgrimage has had me on edge. The emotions are moving to the surface. Eventually the subject changed naturally and I was glad to move on. Also at one point I literaly found 20 Euro.

Despite the physical pain from yesterdays walk, I made great time. It helps to walk with other people because my stride just naturally matched theirs. They were moving quite fast, but as long as we were talking I didn’t feel it. When we reached the bridge that crossed into Zubiri we all sat down, exhausted. I took my shoes and socks off and was so blissful to be barefoot. Only a portion of the group planned to stop in Zubiri. At that point we kind of parted ways, because I was not yet ready to stand up and go look for the room I had booked. The others hadn’t booked ahead like me, so they went off to search for their own bed in an Albergue that wasn’t full yet. It was still early in the afternoon, about 1pm, so there was a lot of time to fill our days. The day had grown quite hot, typical for early August in Spain. Upon crossing the old roman bridge that led into the town the evidence of an ongoing festival laid before me. Many of the establighments were closed not only because it’s Sunday, but also because of the festival. The square had families with children, just lounging. The kids were wearing these human size puppet costumes and running around. The costumes reminded me of a life sized Punch and Judy show.

The Albergue I stayed at was a small space for eight people in four bunk beds, located just off the square called Albergue Zaldiko. Today was the first day of laundry, seeing as I only have two changes of clothes. I thought I would use the washer in my Albergue, but it was 6 Euro for the wash and no dryer. Lots of people were coming into the Albergue and I had yet to each lunch, so I made my escape from the crowded space. Just down the block was an open bar that appeared filled with Pilgrims. I figured that was as good a shot and I didn’t have to hunt another option down. Upon entering the bar I ran into the French girl I met yesterday coming down the mountain. You remember, the one I yelled “Because I’m Dumb!” at? Well she didn’t hold my outburst against me and invited me to sit down with her and eat lunch. We had great conversation over mediocre food serve with french fries. She had started her Camino further back in France on one of the French routes to Saint Jean. For her this was a very religious experience and important to her spiritual well being. It was really delightful to hear her perspective of the Camino and what it was like on the trail in France. The trails before Saint Jean do not have the solid infrastructure available on the “official” path that we are currently walking. She had to be more clever and connect with the churches to find places to stay.

She was not planning to stay in Zubiri, but continue on that night. However, by the time we finished eating it was 3pm and she decided that maybe she would look for a room. We checked at my Albergue, but they were full up except for a more expensive private room. She opted to search for a more affordable option. Most Pilgrims are on a very strict budget, so ideally a bet can be booked for 10 Euro or less. We agreed to meet in an hour and go to the river together. During our lunch I had mentioned that I needed to do laundry and wondered if she wanted to go in on the machine together. She told me about how the “Pilgrims Way” is to wash the clothing by hand in the sink and hang it to dry. I know how to do this, but I worry that I won’t get my clothes clean. After she went to find a bed for the night and wash her own laundry. I saw other people washing their clothes in the sink and decided to try my best and see how it went. I got water everywhere, but the clothes got washed (or at least a solid rinse). While I was doing laundry there was a giant parade outside to go along with the town festivities.

By the time I had finished my laundry everything had calmed back down. I opted to go sit in the shade and pluck on the Ukelele I brought with me. I don’t often get shy about things, but with the Ukelele I was very shy. I don’t have a good grasp on it, and so my nerves go up when I try playing around others. The street wasn’t busy, so I figured this was a good time to try it out. I lost myself in playing, just like I had by the river in Bayonne. There is just something about strumming the ukelele that calms my soul. A Camino cyclist came by and smiled at me playing, his smile touched his eyes. It made me glad I had decided to play. His kindness gave me courage. I had really debated bringing this extra weight with me, but today Iam grateful for the extra weight.

Alice came by and chatted with me while I was waiting for the French Girl. She said she had seen her at the other albergue washing laundry. Alice invited me to the river, but I said we would catch up and I would wait for the French Girl. Despite an hour long lunch together, I do not yet know the French Girls name, which is why I keep calling her “the French Girl.” Maybe I had learned it and forgotten it. It’s only been two days, but I feel like I have been on the trail for forever. I was determined to suck up any potential embarassment and ask her name. I knew I was likely going to have to do this a lot on the trail, so I my as well start now.

Her name is Cecilia, Ceci. We went to the river, but couldn’t find Alice. We did find some rocks we could sit in with our feet in the water. Even though today was much shorter than yesterday, my feet were still beaten and hurting. The water was an elixir of life for my poor feet. Ceci and I sat there, soaking our feet, and talked about all kinds of things. The political struggle, negative beliefs of our respective societies on others, religion, how we each experience the world, and she taught me some French things about Love. She said that I am right in thinking that the French are experts in love. She encouraged me to play my ukelele for a while and while this was happening, and young spanish boy came up and started to squirt me with his water gun. He didn’t speak english, but he did speak French. So between my spanish and Ceci’s French we had a fun conversation with him. We followed our river time up with an early dinner at 6pm. I mean early by European standards. It was an enjoyable evening and now I shall go to sleep, feeling connected.

This ends Day 2 on the trail, 13.5 miles per my phone and 15km per my guide.