Camino de Santiago ~ St. Jean

Arrival - May 31st.

" The secret to interior peace is detachment." ~ Thomas Merton

It is not possible to reach our destination unless we give up our rational & spiritual things within the limits of moderation.

I've gone through quite a bit since I've wrote last. From the comforts of drinking local biodynamic wine overlooking the hills of St. Jean with Ian to seeing an old man sleep underneath my bunk in Roncesvalles (nearly making me break down & cry because he reminded me of my father & my grandfather).

How many people have wept, slept, & walked these streets - corridors of forests & died attempting a walk that tests the sands of time as well as the inner depths of the spirit.

St. Jean began like any other adventure...

Filled with youthful spirit & vigor, we were ready to conquer the road to Roncesvalles. What was unclear was where would we stay?

Ultimately, Ian & I came across the albergue set apart from all the others.

Inside was a short & thin frame of a walkway with an abrupt combobulated array of shoes before the entrance into the living room. The screen door was the only thing keeping us from entering any further. Desperate, we walked inside & made our presence known.

The living room had the distinct unpleasant smell of cat piss (amongst other smells that filled the air). The word "Zen" was preached through pictures on the wall, but the house screamed a cluttered mess with a twist.

Without further ado, the cat lady waltzes down the stairs and presents herself as the home-keeper. After a lengthy spiel of rules & regulations ~ she finally allows us to place our shoes with the rest of the bunch by the front of the house and come upstairs.

Atop the second floor we become acquainted with the other two in our room. (A Hungarian & South Korean, both young women). The other bunks were reserved by some Italians (of which I would see at the end of our trek from St. Jean to Roncesvalles.

Eventually day turned into night, and after two distinct French pizzas shared between Ian & I. I reverted to walk along the distinct cobblestone street that led me to my top bunk. There I would enjoy the last bit of rest before our journey began.

After leaving the cat lady's home, the next day proved to be one of the longest & yet most revealing to date. The rain of St. Jean poured into my head and filled it with doubt until...

Orisson.