It Doesn’t Always Go As Planned

After a rest day in Santiago in Wednesday, I began the walk to the ocean Thursday morning.

Thursday was overcast, but still reasonably pleasant. Yesterday, however, the skies opened early in the morning and never closed. Thirty-two kilometers – eight hours of walking – in pouring wind and heavy winds. By the time we completed our walk for the day, not only me and my shoes, but most everything in my pack was wet. (I did discover last night that a wet synthetic sleeping bag will still keep you warm.)

All night I listened to the wind and rain, which show no signs of letting up.

I really (really) wanted to walk all way to the ocean. And, having decided that that was what I was going to do, a stubborn part of me feels that is what I should do.

But walking the remaining 34 kilometers to Finisterre today in the cold and rain with still-wet shoes, sleeping bag, etc., serves nothing but pride.

I will share a cab with my fellow walkers to Finisterre this morning.

[After making my decision, I learned that the Camino route to Finisterre is flooded and impassable.]

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