Or how to go from feeling like a spiritual explorer to arguing with a blister for 30 kilometers
There are two types of people in this world.
Those who have not yet done the Camino de Santiago.
And those who laugh every time they hear phrases like:
"I'm going to do the Camino to disconnect and find myself."
Because they know perfectly well what comes next.
We all start the same.
We see spectacular videos on the internet.
Pilgrims smiling as they walk among green fields.
Magical sunrises.
Inspiring music.
Excited hugs.
And we think:
"This is going to be a wonderful spiritual experience."
What no one tells you is that spirituality disappears pretty quickly when you're carrying a twelve-kilo backpack uphill and a blister the size of a kiwi.
That is why today we are going to dismantle the five great lies of the Camino.
1. "I'm going to bring only the essentials"
The biggest lie ever told.
You prepare the backpack with an almost Zen philosophy.
This time you're going to be practical.
Only what is necessary.
No excesses.
Three hours later you have:
- Four t-shirts.
- Three pants.
- Two fleece linings.
- A raincoat.
- A book you will never read.
- A first aid kit prepared for an expedition to the Himalayas.
- Two chargers.
- An external battery.
- A battery for the external battery.
- And a bag full of things you don't even remember putting in.
The first day you feel strong.
The second you start to get suspicious.
The third you are looking at each object asking yourself:
"Do I really need to continue carrying this around?"
There are pilgrims who abandon things in the shelters.
Not because they are detached.
Because they have understood that survival is more important.
2. «I will find peace and silence»
Yeah.
Clear.
Of course.
Especially when you sleep in a hostel with forty people.
At ten at night everything seems calm.
At five past ten someone starts snoring.
At ten and seven you discover that there is another one.
At eleven o'clock a third appears who seems to be trying to start a motorcycle with his nose.
At two in the morning you get up to go to the bathroom.
He comes back at four.
At five minutes past four he gets up again.
And at five o'clock the classic pilgrim appears and decides to prepare his backpack using a plastic bag that sounds like it was wrapping an excavator.
Meanwhile, another looks for socks with a headlamp capable of illuminating the Barajas airport.
Inner peace comes.
But usually after the second coffee.
3. "I'm going to eat healthy"
We all come with big plans.
Fruit.
Vegetable.
Healthy life.
Balanced diet.
Then you discover the pilgrim's menus.
And the theory goes straight out the window.
You start by having omelette for breakfast.
At mid-morning a sandwich falls.
For food, a complete menu.
In the afternoon a beer.
A tapa for the beer.
Another beer on top.
And at night a dinner so filling that it could feed a family of four.
The incredible thing is that you continue to lose weight.
Scientists should study the Path.
Because it is the only place in the world where a person can survive on tortillas, croquettes, Santiago cake and beer and still lose weight.
4. "I'm going to meditate while I walk"
The mental image is beautiful.
You walking slowly.
Listening to the birds.
Connecting with your essence.
Reflecting on the meaning of life.
The reality is usually something different.
Kilometer one:
"How beautiful everything is."
Kilometer five:
"I am connected to nature."
Kilometer ten:
"Who put this slope here?"
Kilometer fifteen:
"This can't keep going up."
Kilometer twenty:
«I am going to denounce the inventor of the mountains.»
Kilometer twenty-five:
«Is it too long until the next bar?»
Spiritual reflection exists.
But it usually appears right after a cold Coca-Cola.
5. «When I get to Santiago I will be sad because it is ending»
Lie.
And the big ones.
You arrive excited.
You take the photo in the Plaza del Obradoiro.
You hug your colleagues.
You look at the Cathedral.
You even shed a tear.
And you think:
"It has been one of the best experiences of my life."
Five minutes later you think:
"I need a shower."
Ten minutes later:
"I need a bed."
Fifteen minutes later:
"I need a pizza so big it has its own zip code."
And an hour later you are already saying:
«Next year I'll be back.»
Because that is the true magic of the Camino.
For weeks you complain about the blisters.
Of the slopes.
From the rain
From the snoring.
From the backpack.
But a few days pass.
You look at the photos.
You remember the stories.
You remember the people.
And you start to think:
"How wonderful that was."
Then you come back.
And you make exactly the same mistakes again.
Like any self-respecting professional pilgrim.
Because the Camino has an extraordinary ability:
Make you forget the suffering.
And may you only remember the laughter.
And that's probably the real reason why millions of people keep coming back year after year.
