You Sleep, You Eat, You Walk - Porrino-Redondela-Ponteverda

When you walk for hours each day you begin to structure your day - or the day structures you - around that activity. I rise before the sun and have tea and breakfast and stretch out sore and tight muscles. I get my bag together involving the swapping out of clothes and other gear and then strap on the pack and depart as the sun begins to warm the land.

I walk and walk and walk some more. For the most part my gaze is ahead and my thoughts on the trail - how far I have come and how far to go. Profound thoughts of where life is heading and purpose rarely penetrate. Rather I am focused on the search for yellow arrows and clam shells and think how easily it must be to paint fake yellow arrows to confuse and create a whole class of wayward walkers. I take in stimuli - a dog´s bark, shades of leaves, temperature swings - and accept. More or less you feel a part of the landscape and your emotions shift with a change in the environment. There are thoughts about how your body feels and when you approach your destination for the day there are expectations of how it will feel to jubiliantly remove pack and shoes and lay down. I am never bored for I am constantly in a state of awareness or daze or some other state I can´t describe.

_{Bbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh}

On Monday I met four Belgian - Linda, Samuel, Dries and Maragale - walking the trail and once in a while I would pass them or vice versa and we would speak for several minutes - mostly about the trail - and then be on our way seperately for there was a lot more walking to do and each hiker has their own pace and schedule of stops. Further down the path we would bump into each other again to speak and again depart at different moments.

On average I traverse 15 km a day. At times the walking is done on a highway where trucks whiz by and all the walker is left with is a slender shoulder a tad wider than the pack. Most of the time I am found on a dirt trail in woods or a rarely used gravel road that meanders through farms.

_{The pilgrim´s death march}

Upon entering the city of destination I find the alberga and rest and then get to the nearest cafe for an espresso - un cafe solo - and do most of my writing there and then. There is enough time after to tour around the city a bit and thus do even more walking. I conclude each night with dinner. I have been eating extravegantly due to the walking with tapas and main courses and deserts and wine. Monday night I gave in and had pizza; delicious. Last night I had dinner with a fellow hiker Anne, a 50ish woman from Finland, who had never done the camino before and felt now was better than never.

_{Redondela, it was positive}

_{One of several churches you pass where you can stamp your pilgrim passport to document your route}

The room at the albergo was nearly full Tuesday night with Spaniards and Belgians and Fins and myself. Those who could speak english were talking about why we were doing the camino. One of the Belgians, Linda, pipped up:

I love to hike and it is a beautiful part of the continent and there is something magical about walking trails thousands of people have done before and will do after and you become a part of that story. It is peaceful and very relaxing that all you have to think about is sleeping and eating and walking. It is as simple as it gets.

I nodded in agreement, saying nothing, before lying down and turning over and sleeping soundly.