Yesterday was a day to do nothing. The previous seven days had included a five hour drive to Nairobi, drinking until 0300 and then losing an impromptu sparring match with a friend, an overnight journey to Copenhagen, two nights of drinking at dinners, a drive to and from Western Denmark, and an 0400 wakeup call for a flight to Lisbon. I was tired and I decided Saturday’s Camino training was going to involve napping, a haircut, a manicure, and a massage. Unfortunately, it also meant spending too much time on the internet on the Camino forums, where I went from reading threads on staffs versus poles and blister care, to dog attacks, then on to sexual assaults, and the scariest one, the murder of a young peregrina.
And thus, the fear that had been suspiciously lacking finally reared it’s head.
As it dawned on me that I’m just a few days away from being alone for long periods of time on roads, paths, and trails that are isolated and unfamiliar, I started to panic. I must be insane to think this was a good idea. What IF a dog attacks me? What IF I find myself alone and am assaulted? What IF I get hurt? What IF I can’t make it to Santiago de Compostella? Feeling completely distraught, I went onto Amazon to rush order dog repellant and personal safety devices, then I sought the advise of a woman on the forums who I knew had done many solo caminos. I went to bed feeling very nervous.
This morning I woke up contemplating canceling the whole thing, and went down to the hotel gym to do some training. Somewhere in the middle of doing boxing drills, I realised that all of the fears are totally unfounded. I have travelled the world, and walked in many places, and that I was letting things I’ve read on the internet, things that happen in every country and can’t be predicted, get under my skin. Last year I flew on 78 flights. Any of those could have ended in disaster. I’ve driven tens of thousands of miles, biked thousands, walked hundreds, and all could have ended badly… but they didn’t. It was then that I realised that I am stronger than my fears, even when I didn’t consciously recognise it. With that thought, I went off to collect the car and start my journey north to the starting point.
Tonight I’m in Ericeira. A seaside town that I visited as a teen, some 26 years ago. As I walked, so many memories came flooding back, it was all very familiar, even down to the hotel where I stayed. It was a school trip, and the group of us had no fears then. I remember getting really drunk on vinho verde in Bar Neptune, and walking back to the hotel on my own without fear. Fear is something learned, and my Camino training today has been a mental exercise. I intentionally walked through small and dark streets, past groups of men, past barking dogs, and as I sat outside a cafe on my own listening to the waves, I felt content and strong, and the excitement of the Camino has returned for me.
I’ve also realised today that while interesting to read about how to prepare and what are the right shoes/equipment/personal care for the Camino, it’s a highly personal thing, and the only way I’m going to get it right for myself is by actually doing it. There’s going to be mistakes and things I wish I’d bought/taken. There will be things I find I had no use for. There are some things I’m already realising were very clever, like investing last minute in the North Face vest and hiking shoes, and that a 17kg suitcase was probably not so clever, because even though it’s being transported every day by an agency, I’m probably going to have to drag it up and down stairs at the hotels and guest houses. It’s all part of the learning experience though.
Four sleeps until the start, and I am now at peace.
Fatima tomorrow, and a short pilgrimage in the evening.
camino de uchuujin 