Obviously, I overslept. I snoozed for five minutes, which became forty-five, and the sun had already begun its ascent when I finally left. So much for a sunrise hike! In the end, though, it worked out better for me - the majority of the morning’s walk was on a main road with fast-moving lorries, and it would've been awful in the dark.
I set off without breakfast since it was still a bit early and I planned to make a stop when I reached the first mountain village where there would be food. I walked through the frosty but glorious morning, hilltops in the distance glowing red in the sunrise. I passed another monument built in tribute to us pilgrims. I couldn’t find much information as to the writer, but it seems it was built by the local council.
At the time, I wasn’t awake enough to translate properly and completely forgot it until now, almost two years into the future. How fateful to fully realise this extraordinarily moving poem at this particular moment in time.
If you like solitude
If you want to be the protagonist of this path
Next to the greatness of the landscape
And in front of the harshness of the cold
And the suns
If you want the sunsets to drag you
Into their deep silences
And that in the morning
The breaks of dawn shake your soul
This is your way!
I can’t believe, reading this now, how much it foreshadowed this exact day. I experienced all: the enjoyment of solitude, the greatness of the landscape, and the dangerous harshness of the sun. We’ll come to that in a minute.
The path this day had the highest peak of the whole Camino and I was excited to get there, especially since I missed the first high peaks of the trail when I took a bus to get to Salamanca a while back.
I thought it would be a challenging ascent but it was gradual and I surprised myself with how fast I’d been able to walk it without huffing and puffing. I suppose, after all, I’d been walking on the trail for over a month by now and had finally gained some stamina.
After an hour and a bit on the road, the trail finally veered off and there was a half an hour's walk which took me under the motorway instead of with it.
If I recall correctly from the various guides and forums, this part of the walk had been one of the more potentially dangerous. Some had missed the turnoff, or perhaps the way was blocked by the country-wide railway construction. For whatever reason, some walkers had been forced to walk through the unlit mountain tunnel alongside the motorway traffic.
Happily, all was fine today. I took my time walking here, enjoying the solitude, the briskness of the morning, the birdsong and the amazing views. I stopped to take in the thunderous river below. I left my own little mark, an arrow made of stone, and walked on to the village up top.
And here’s where things started to go wrong. I arrived at the thankfully open bar, only to find that they had no food or snacks. I sat for some tea and internally moaned over the fact that I hadn’t prepared snacks as I had been doing this whole time. I had my last magdalena - a type of Spanish cupcake - and set off again, trying not to think about the fact that I might not get anything to eat until my destination. It wasn’t far though and I wasn’t really worried.
However, things got confusing here. There were now three different ways to walk; the original Camino path - which had until recently been closed due to the railway constructions but I'd been advised by the barman was open again - an alternative route along the national road, and a final route along a smaller road through two villages which added quite a few more KM.
The moment I left the first village, it was all road-walking. The path was on the main road, busy with huge lorries. The lushness of my verdant and calm morning was nowhere to be found.
I tried to find the original Camino and completely missed it. I doubled-back since I didn’t seem to be too far and tried to find it again. Instead I came across one of the English guys I’d met yesterday who told me it wasn't passable. I was sure it was probably okay, especially since I’d spoken to the barman, but being hot, feet aching and irritated from walking on so much road, plus getting hungry, I decided to not risk it and carried on going the way I had been. At this point, I wasn’t sure which of the other two routes I was on. In the end, I think it added an extra hour of walking.
My usual lunchtime came and went and I still hadn’t eaten. It was the hottest time of day now and though it wasn’t severely hot, I wasn’t in the mood or condition for it. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to my destination, but it was slow-going under the relentless sun.
It was a horrible end to the day, but I finally made it into town just in time for a very late lunch - or right on time, if I wanted to channel my Spanish side. The day of road-walking had killed my legs and feet though, and I was feeling pretty knackered. I decided to drop my bags before eating though since I was worried about spaces.
With relief, I found the albergue in the slight maze-like village and there was more than enough space - I even got myself a lovely bottom bunk. While I was settling in some new pilgrims appeared; they’d come through the much nicer, quicker, original route. So it had been fine after all - I bloody well knew it. Sigh.
Oh well, there’s always a lesson to be learnt here! And there was somehow still hot water left so I wasn’t too pissed off about everything. Finally, feeling clean and somewhat alive again, I walked through the village to get some lunch.
I saw someone familiar, though I can’t remember who now, and sat with them a while. Out of nowhere, I started to feel very ropey. I thought I was only hungry and tried to eat - no go, my whole appetite was just gone and I felt too nauseous to keep eating.
I sat outside for a while waiting to see if I would feel better, but in the end decided to head back for a siesta. I rested in bed until dinner time but only got slowly worse; I became feverish, my sleeping bag was on fire from my body heat. Even my ears were giving off a ridiculous amount of heat.
I decided to try dinner and I slowly wobbled my way back towards the restaurant, where I found Anett and the Frenchman. I thought some good carbs would help and ordered a bowl of pasta. It didn’t happen though; my appetite hadn’t come back and after a few bites, I found myself wobble-running my way to the bathroom to be sick.
I felt like I was badly hungover! Looking back, I realise it was probably heat exhaustion. Even though it wasn’t the hottest day I’d had so far, nor the longest, nor the hardest (in fact, I was almost lost in the Arizona desert once with hardly any water, and somehow managed to avoid heat exhaustion even then!), the heat combined with the fact I hadn't eaten anything all day, which probably meant I needed to drink way more water than usual, my body just said “bruh what are you doing?” and simply shutdown.
With some concern from my new walker friends - and an annoying “but why didn't you eat your food?” from another walker sat with us that I absolutely was not in the mood for - I more-or-less stumbled back to the hostel, blearily brushed my teeth and went straight to sleep, hoping to feel better in the morning. What a terrible end to a great morning.
Until next time,
A x
About me
Hey! Ameena here - I’m a freelance portraiture and documentary photographer based in London. I enjoy telling stories about adventure, the outdoors, and our relationship with the natural world.
In this newsletter, I’m digitally retracing my steps on the Camino de Santiago. From March to May 2019, over 45 days, I walked over 900km along the Via de la Plata (the Silver Way) route of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain.
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