Comunal living on the Camino

Greetings from Puenta la Reina
In many ways each person’s Camino is determined by where they start and when they start. There are no set rules, but since most everybody travels about the same distance each day we all wind up pretty much the same place at night. It´s like a giant movement unto itself, ebbing and flowing, separating and coming back together at various times of the day, sending messages of "Buen Camino" to each other for encouragement. There´s always a genuine sense of pleasure as we find our fellow Camino inhabitants are doing well and hanging in there.
Of the people themselves, there are Kristin and Diane (she of the knee length hair), 27 and 33 years old, two sisters reconnecting after years apart. There is Anna Sophia, a 21 year old Canadian using the Camino to try to discover what it is she wants to do with her life. There are the newly-wed French kids holding hands as they walk their honeymoon. Theresa from Georgia is trying to find herself after getting out of a long and bad marriage and in a lot of pain. There is the American Catholic priest who was willing to tell her the reason she is in so much emotional pain was because she used birth control pills. Ian, the pudgy Irishman has, unfortunately been left behind because he couldn´t do the long journeys while trying to figure out how Catholicism fit into his life. There´s the Spanish woman who talks on her cell phone as she walks, and a myriad of other characters and personalities.
Lots of young people aged 20-30, and a surprising number of people 50-65, and pretty equally divided between men and women, fill our Camino. We pass each other several times a day as we all stop to eat or rest at different times; have different paces, but all end up at the same place pretty much at the same time.
Had we started a day earlier or later, the characters would all be different. I´m sure they´d be just as good, but I´m very partial to our fellow pilgrims. I had read that the interaction of the group is one of the best parts of the Camino and it’s turning out to be that for sure.
Refugios (pilgrim refuges) are scattered throughout the Camino, and this is our fourth, and we sleep generally dormitory style bunk beds. There is the joke about the American woman who came through a couple weeks ago announcing: "All right, who am I sleeping with tonight? Last night I sleep above a German, and the night before I slept under a Frenchman, so who is it tonight?”
Being mostly Europeans in makeup, Camino people have less inhibited views on states of undress, and with 100 people in the same room, there are lots of bodies in various stages of putting clothes on and off.
The refugios are very different in basic facilities. So far, we´ve stayed in an ancient abbey, a new building built just for pilgrims, an old building in bad state of repair and lat night in a convent. They have all had separate men’s and women’s sanitary facilities, so I speak here of only the men´s, as I know it. But we´ve had hot showers each night, though some have open shower areas, some have only one toilet for all the men there, others have individual urinal and commode areas. Last night we had a small room which had four beds in it, the other two occupied by two girls from the Canary Islands. Snorers abound, and earplugs are as important as good shoes to a successful completion of the Camino.
We´ve walked for three days now and feel quite into the swing of things. The good news is that Carol´s right knee is fine. The bad news is that her left knee took the brunt of yesterday and is not giving her pain. But you know Carol, she´ll be fine. Nothing will stop her from her appointed rounds. She´s a lot better than the postman.
Each day´s walk is a mini-Camino in itself, some of it easy, some of it difficult. While each one is only part of the whole, each has its own beginning and ending, it´s own beauty, it´s own problems to be dealt with along the way. Each has its own reality which, when completed, gives a strong sense of accomplishment. It is easy to disconnect from the whole and connect to the moment, which, I think, is how it is supposed to be.
The scenery is simply spectacular. The beauty of Navarra, the state we are in now is one of rolling hills, still green from the spring rains, planted fields abound and picturesque villages break up the openness of the walk every few miles. Everybody just stops often, partly to catch one´s breath, partly to see it as a total picture not just the part directly in front of one´s feet. We keep saying: "how can we explain how beautiful it is to people." We take lots of photos, but we don´t think that will fully express what we see. Maybe it´s not important that it does.
We walk between 6 and 8 hours each day. We’re very tired at the completion of the day. Then it´s time for a quick shower, washing clothes, a quick nap, journal writing, dinner and to bed early since most people hit the trail by 6:30 a.m. the following morning.
We have walked about 47 miles in our three days of travel. Today was the longest, a 17.5 mile journey from Pamplona to here. We passed through wheat fields wafting in the breeze like some giant fan circulating the air to different parts of the fields. We climbed over a thousand feet to a pass, walking through a field of Spanish Broom in total bloom towards the summit where wind farm turbines whooshed and swooshed as turned and broke the silence of the climb. General conversation ceases and people concentrate on one foot in front of the other during the hard climbs. A full view forward to what was in store for us and a backward view of where we had been, gave us both encouragement and an awesome realization of what was still in store for the day. You can see the trail weaving itself off into the distance blurring until it´s lost after so many miles. Best that way, I think. Better not to think too far into the future. Live the moment, enjoy it and appreciate it but still know a little about what´s ahead.
So just know that we are more than fine. We’re having a wonderful adventure. Like everybody else, we walk down stairs at the end of the day very gingerly, we all have sore toes and knees, the balls of our feet need some serious time off, and we all await tomorrow with excitement and anticipation for what the day will bring.
I don´t think any of us would have it any other way.
Jim and Carol