Feeling like walking, I woke early and waited for others. No music wake up call today. Folks didn’t fully roll out before 6:45, but I got my rig together and left by 7:00. Coffee in town, met up with folks who will share an apartment tonight (instead of Pamplona Aubergue), and headed off with the first to walk.

She was planning to walk slow, feeling ill. About a mile in, she needed to sit. She asked me to head on, and I did. I felt hesitant, at first, but knew others behind her would check on her. Later, she walked with pilgrims to the next town, finding transport to Pamplona.

Today’s walk began in lovely countryside, and finished in suburban, urban sidewalks. Then Pamplona. Nice apartment, for six, allowed us to traipse the evening and sample Pincheto at several places. Rested about midnight, later than allowed at the Aubergue.

I wondered at several thoughts today.
1. What is the balance between optimism and complaining? Today, day 3, things hurt. One at least has become ill, others begin to limp, blistered feet (not me thankfully) rage red. The enthusiasm abides, shared among us, but knees and feet and hips are mentioned during the greetings and shared walking time. How to journal a bad day? This one was a good day, but had me thinking about one of the next 27 or so.

2. Today I recalled one of my poems from ship days. I loved reciting Robert Service when I was alone and on duty in the engine room. I told Kazuma that today was a day of poetry for me; he said his was a day for flowers.

3. In sharing, each is often asked why he/she is walking. Today, I realized a deeper ambiguity in my answers. I have several “reasons”, but the walk is letting me know that while valid they may not be complete.

4. Parts of the path are like a hug, foliage wrapping around us. And we are not alone, even walking apart. Some say we each walk our own Camino; today it feels that there is one Camino, made more complete by each thread sown by each walking Pilgrim. Searching Peregrines in community even so.

I am with the woman who is ill, and need not worry, for she is on the Camino and cared for. I am with Ann, who walked last year with her family. I am with my family in Delaware, even while walking. No maybe. Perhaps, they (you) are with me. We together.