Albergue life along the Camino Frances - part one

Finally by 4pm and after 32km of undulating track, sun bleached fields and a multitude of weather conditions, we reach the much longed for village where we hope to find beds available for the night. Oh what a welcome you can (generally) expect - a glass of water, a lucky dip in the sweeties, Camino credentials stamped, a nice warm smile and (dorm) room key produced. Exhausted, weary, aching and parched we really just need two things: to sit down - and drink a delicious Spanish ‘caña’ (beer). Despite the desire to ban such liquid gold from one’s diet in order to maximise health benefits of walking such distances, it truly is the reward straight from the gods which one simply cannot deprive oneself of. Fact.

7kg pack grounded for the day. Bunk bed located. Hot shower sourced. Clothes wash done and hanging out amongst the rows of other freshly washed linens in the airless courtyard. Next; time to locate a decidedly delightful eating establishment preferably without having to walk too many more steps and ideally to have the offering inclusive of vegetables - a food type which is conspicuous by its absence along The Way. This, is the routine of the Camino Frances.

Having spoken with a large number of people along The Way, with varying backgrounds and from a plethora of homelands, I now feel qualified to state that each and every person walking these 790+km have their own, very unique reasons for being here. Whether it be a longing for closure of something, time to reflect on the life of someone or simply trying to ‘figure it all out’; the honesty and openness with which everyone chats is truly a beautiful thing. I have never felt so comfortable to ‘just be me’.

With all the best intentions for a small, quick meal, snappy chat and early bedtime; sometimes it’s just inevitable that one gets carried away with beverage in hand and stories a flowing ... suddenly it’s one minute to curfew and an imminent dash is required in order to not be locked out for the night. Most ‘albergue‘s’ (hostels) lock their doors at 10pm - presumably because most ‘peregrinos’ (pilgrims) are well tucked up by then as they’ll be up at the crack of dawn to begin their day. More often than not, this is entirely my preference as sleep is one of my top 3 priorities in life, however every now and then it seems I can be led astray by inspirational conversation, life lesson sharing and immense laughter which I would never want to jeopardise by going to bed too early. We can sleep when we’re dead, right?

The phrase ‘things that go bump in the night’ has entirely been redeveloped on this journey! Snorting, sneezing, rustling, rummaging, farting and faffing; these are just some thoughts of what these aforementioned noises actually are and which you might well hear throughout the night if you were unfortunate enough to not own a pair of earplugs. By going to bed by 9pm, you have the upmost advantage towards a solid, well deserved sleep through to 6am ... when alarm clocks explode, rustling begins and the switches are flipped to startle you with such bright light spilling out from above the bunks.

And so on to another day of walking in this incredible part of the world, on a journey like no other.