I awoke at a comfortable time the next morning to the familiar noise of people coming and going, packing and unpacking. The bus to Proaza left after 9. By now, most of the pilgrims had left. I packed my sleeping bag and munched down on a fresh pack of cold oats milk and strawberry jam before leaving the Albergue to the bus station. A twenty-minute walk later through the shady morning streets of Oviedo, I arrived at the bus station and I asked around until I found the correct bus. Today I was taking a detour in the opposite direction…

Previous: Chapter 5   I slept better that night, falling downwards instead of to my side. The slant my tent was on was still too big, secondly, my tent was soaked with the morning dew. The sun was already up and I had to get moving if I was going to catch my 9:37 train some twenty minutes from this beach. I had roughly an hour to dry my tent so that I could pack it, along with my air mattress and sleeping bag. I basically had to repack my entire bag. I lightly jogged with all of my gear,…

Previous: Chapter 3 May 12th, 2017 The next morning I awoke. My feet felt significantly better as I skidded barefoot down the concrete stairs where an already awake party of three sat chewing on their baguette, cheese, yogurt, and sausage picnic. It was raining of course, just as predicted. Moreover, the forecast predicted nothing but muggy rain and thunder until nightfall. Rain wouldn’t have been a hindrance except I learned while walking the Camino, that my water proof biking jacket was actually just a bike a jacket… I wasn’t the most eager beaver to start this journey on soggy feet,…

Previous: Chapter 2 May 11, Vila de Area I felt at home. If there’s one place I want to be when I’m recovering, it’s in an empty surf house near the ocean among forest and mountains. I awoke to the sound of raining outside. Hard raining. The one square window in the room hung square open revealing a wooded mountain get sneezed and drooled on by dark salacious clouds. I love the sound of falling rain for sleeping though no matter how many times I rolled around, I couldn’t fall back asleep. I was up. I waddled my still waking limbs out of…

 Previous: Chapter 1 Tuesday, May 9th I’m always anxious when I have an appointment, anything that requires I be at place X at whatever O’Clock and furthermore if it’s an appointment arrangement. When you’re unfamiliar with a country, anxiety is how we deal with uncertainty. Some of us tend to avoid it, me, I wake up unnecessarily early. I’m a stickler to schedule when I have to catch any sort of transportation with a set time I have to be there. I have this fear of missing my boat, plane or bus and being stuck in a place I don’t want…

**Draft** Today was not exceptional in any way, standing under the grueling sun with a sign saying “INGOL”. My destination, Ingolstadt, served no other purpose than to bring me halfway to Augsburg. I was hitchhiking through Germany for no other reason than to hitchhike through Germany. In search of mountains once again, I made it from the top of the country in Berlin through the lush greenery of the Czech Republic and down to Regensburg where I stood at an intersection bustling with cars unwilling to take me with them. Standing there with my sign and backpack, I was playing automobile roulette and the odds were against me….