Camino Homestretch: Detours & the Big Meltdown

Expect the Unexpected

The Camino stretched on and on.  Up a hill, down the other side.  Around a curve, back the other way.  Along the straightaway.  To the left. To the right.  Up another hill, down the other hill.  Around another curve, back around.  The farther it went, the slower I walked.

Hubs waiting for me… again.

This pilgrimage had turned into a grueling feat.  I had no one but myself to thank for placing me in this insane position.  It sounded like such an adventurous idea at the time.  Note to self: Do not listen to me in the future. 

Lunchbreak on the Camino

Stop for lunch, then hit the road again. Places to go, things to do, and another mile to walk.

TELL ME THAT IS NOT TRUE!! It can’t be!  Hubs and I stood in stunned silence. We stared at the signs in front of us, my mouth gaped open in utter disbelief.

Surely this was a joke! A BAD JOKE.

There wasn’t REALLY a DETOUR… was there??? Oh YES, THERE WAS A DETOUR, and it was for REAL! D-E-T-O-U-R.

As fate would have it, the detour challenged us on the ONLY day we were already scheduled to trudge 30 kilometers of turf before nightfall. The detour added at least another six kilometers to our day. Groan!!

My feet and legs were puffed up and disproportionate from walking a gazillion footsteps across Spain. I wouldn’t have realized they were mine, had they not been attached to the rest of my body.

My feet and legs took on a new shape.

All my own resources for physical, emotional, and mental strength had been tapped out at least two days prior.  After that, through prayer and faith, I depended upon God to provide me with enough power to keep moving.  

Every step I took was God-powered because I sure wasn’t going anywhere on my own steam.

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock; and the door will be opened to you.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

With experience as my teacher, I knew if I stayed connected to my “God-power,” I would have everything I needed to navigate through the detour and onward to our evening destination. Instead, I allowed my misery to overtake me and became colossally peeved about the detour. My mind filled with a barrage of grumbling, complaining, and griping about the extra distance inflicted upon us.

“Why did they do that to the Camino? At LEAST they could’ve left a PATH OPEN for the pilgrims! That’s REALLY inconsiderate… What jerks!”

I unplugged from my power source.

I disconnected from my “God-power” and within ten seconds I cratered.

I fell off the spiritual wagon and landed flat on my butt with a THUD!!!

The tears welled up in my eyes, flooded down my cheeks, and dripped off my nose in splatters. My knees buckled beneath me, forcing me to sit down. I was defeated. I sobbed and sobbed. And then I sobbed some more.

Defeated and crying at the side of the Camino.

Hubs sat down beside me, “Honey. What’s wrong?”

The snot and tears sloshed down my face, forming a puddle in front of me. I could hardly talk. Between gasps for air, I snorted out, “I’m NOT a GOOD PILGRIM!” Another flood of tears gushed out.

He put his arm around my shoulder, “Of course, you’re a good pilgrim. Why do you think you’re not a good pilgrim?” Hubs was baffled by my self-evaluation.

I sucked in a gulp of air and said the first thing that came to mind, “Because all the other pilgrims are faster than me.” That even sounded nutty to me. The truth be known - I didn’t know why I was losing my stuff. I was just losing it!

“Honey, it doesn’t matter if they walk faster than you. You’re still a good pilgrim. You can’t give up now. You’re almost there. Don’t give up….”

WHOA!!! Who said anything about giving up??! I was simply having a good old-fashioned meltdown!

My head whipped up, and my eyes shot him one of my BATTLE MAIDEN glances! I set the record straight in no uncertain terms, “I’m NOT giving up!! I’m NOT going to stop! I just need to cry… a bit.” That is precisely what I did. I cried.

Then I got my act together. I reconnected with God, my power source.

It was a BRUTAL walk to make it to our evening destination. We inched into the hotel just minutes before the sun set for the night. Neither of us had a single ounce of energy left.

We flopped onto the bed and awoke the next morning - still fully dressed in the clothing we wore the day before, shoes and all!

Thank goodness! Santiago de Compostela was only 23 km away. Our LAST DAY on the Camino had FINALLY arrived. In the early afternoon, we encountered this sign when we reached the eastern edge of the Santiago de Compostela Airport.

We stood in silence and assessed the situation. We could see that it was only about a mile across, but the road was CLOSED.

The detour would take us South ALL THE WAY down the EAST side of the runways, across to the other side of the airport then North ALL THE WAY back up the WEST side of the runways. It ONLY added an additional 6.4 km/4 miles to our agenda.

One second we were 10.9 km from our destination. All that changed in a heartbeat when, by a twist of fate, another dreaded orange sign with the “D WORD” extended our destination to 17.3 km. Oh well, what difference would six more kilometers make to my elephant-size legs? Zip-all!

One thing for certain! I wasn’t going to become a basket-case again over the “D SIGN”. Been there, done that and all it did was power me down. Nope! Smart cookie here… I hefted one elephant-size leg in front of the other and started plodding down the narrow trail around the perimeter of the Santiago de Compostela Airport.

With the airport behind us, we were finally on the home stretch! The surrounding energy changed as we ventured closer to the city. It “felt” more urban, with a tension looming in the atmosphere.

We stopped at the first designated pilgrim rest area to get a drink and put our feet up. The area was a large civic park with picnic benches and a concession area, much different from the quaint rural pilgrim refreshment stops along the Camino. Hubs put his backpack by a picnic table and went to get us something to drink. I sat at the picnic table and contemplated taking my backpack off - after so many miles, it didn’t make any difference to me whether I carried it or not. Truth be known, by that stage of my pilgrimage, I felt like a turtle without its shell if I wasn’t carrying my backpack.

Wow! Get that picture! A turtle without its shell, with elephant-size legs!

That’s when I noticed HER! A younger woman with long dark hair and piercing dark eyes stood nearby, STARING AT ME. Then a man in an older model car drove up behind her, parked, and flipped the trunk open. He stayed in the car and kept the engine running.

Instinctively, my mind defaulted to “Danger, High Alert!” mode. I quickly evaluated the situation and thought, “He’s ready to take off as soon as she throws our backpacks in the trunk of the car.” I did not like the feel of this situation, not one bit!

She continued to STARE AT ME. I STARED BACK AT HER. She STARED AT ME. I STARED AT HER.

While locked in the staring competition with this strange woman, I did a mental inventory of the contents of our backpacks. (Our passports and anything of REAL value were not in them, although losing the backpacks would be inconvenient.)

Come on, Hubs! Where are you??? HUBS!!! HURRY UP!!!!! I was trying to “will” him to get back from whatever he was doing. He was taking his sweet time. Sooner or later, this fiasco I was embroiled in had to move one way or the other beyond a staring competition!

He finally arrived, carrying two bottles of water. I conceded the staring competition, turned to Hubs, and quietly said, “Don’t question me. Just pick up your pack and let’s get out of here. I’ll explain later.”

As we walked away, thankfully without incident, I told him, “I think we were being cased to be robbed.”

Hubs nodded and replied, “I noticed that. It was really weird when that guy drove up in that car and opened the trunk.” We walked a bit farther, then he added, “Too bad, I was really looking forward to taking a rest for a few minutes.”

We walked another seven miles through outlying communities, across a few major intersections with freeway flyovers.

Finally, we followed the Camiño Francés into the old city of Santiago de Compostela.

In Front of the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela

WE MADE IT!!!

Congratulations Readers! We’ve been on a long journey together. The best is yet to come, so watch for the next episode. Until then, Buen Camino!

For those readers who are just joining us, the entire El Camino Series is on my Substack. Check it out. LoisTB.substack.com And don’t forget to press that Subscribe button.