It is still dark as 5:00 AM approaches, and I am relishing the stillness of the morning. I hear the soft breathing of my daughters, and I realize that I am the only one awake. I lie quietly and ponder what this day may bring. Waking early has been a habit that began decades ago when my children were young, and the early mornings were my only time of solitude. This is still my favorite time of the day, and although I savor these moments, I am eager to start my day. I am ready to take a walk.
For me, walking is an exercise of faith. It is the perpetual motion of falling forward. Each step represents a rhythmic movement that symbolizes a moving forward, and then a letting go, trusting that each step allows me to be exactly where I need to be. I have begun to stop thinking of my destination but embrace each morning with this thought: what a beautiful day to take a walk and see where this day leads me. I am eager to experience the journey.
Once I am on the road, my first quest is to find a cup of coffee as soon as possible. Once this has been accomplished I took forward to walking along the ancient roads welcoming all that I encounter.
I look at the old churches with fresh eyes and suddenly seeing the beauty in their antiquity. How many people have attended Mass over the centuries? Life, death, and refuge have all occurred here, and for a moment, I am caught up in all that may have happened around me.
I am enamored by the green hills and the plethora of flowers. These bring my heart great peace, and I want these at home! The old houses are breathtaking, and I find myself daydreaming about living here. I love the smell of the rich damp earth, and I find myself longing to work in it and plant a garden. I have perfected this in my mind and I know just what I would do.
I am beguiled by the bluest of skies and the billowing clouds. I find I never tire of looking upward. If the clouds darken and it should rain, I have become an expert at putting on my rain clothes. I can put them on or take them off and barely stop walking.
The ordinary things suddenly become extraordinary. Bridges are captivating. Tunnels mesmerizing. The fog and dew over the morning grass are exquisite.
I will find a place to rest and have a meal. I will stop and try the local specialties—a warm bowl of soup or an Ensalada atun. I would love a glass of wine but fear I will lose all motivation to move onward.
After lunch, I begin to think about where I will stop for the day. My favorites are the Quintas or farmhouses, and I love it when we share dinner with fellow pilgrims. Often, these homes are old and made of stone. We may have a fireplace which always feels good at the end of the day. It is nice to catch up with other walkers and hear about their adventures. I learn so much this way.
Once I have reached my destination and settle in, I will do a little laundry and head out for the evening. I love going out into town and watching life in the plaza. There is excitement in the air as families gather around the church and the local eateries. This is the hub of the village. I am excited to be out as well and for a moment I like to think that I am mistaken for a local.
Having a glass of wine as I wait for dinner is luxurious. Since Europeans eat so much later than I am accustomed to, I have some time to relax and enjoy this time. I love to recap the day and think about what tomorrow might bring. I love my life on the road. I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
I am excited for all that lies ahead!
Tom and Nancy’s Journeys 