You leave home thinking: “I'm going to find myself.”
And the Camino responds: “you will find blisters first.”
First serious drama: wet socks
It starts with an innocent drop... and you end up walking with soup inside your shoe
That “chof chof” that accompanies you as the soundtrack of your failure
Second level: the sticky boots
You take them off...
Silence…
And suddenly: CHLOP
That sound is not human, it is the Way speaking to you directly
Then come the blisters
At first they are small... nice... almost friendly
The next day they have a name, personality and rights over your foot
One is already president, another is a minister of pain
The smell… that topic that no one talks about
In the hostel someone takes off their boots
Everyone raises their heads
They exchange glances
And they think: “what an outrage…”
Until you realize it's you
YOU ARE THE PROBLEM
The shower… that moment of peace… LIE
Hot water touches a blister
And you automatically become an opera singer
You scream, you jump, you negotiate with God
You try to dry the clothes
Day 1: wet
Day 2: wet
Day 3: it's still wet but you don't care, you wear it with pride
You are no longer a person, you are humidity with a backpack
But the food arrives
And here everything changes
You eat a sandwich like there's no tomorrow
A yogurt seems like haute cuisine to you
A piece of bread… masterpiece
And the worst of all... the most serious...
It's just that after all this
Of the destroyed feet, the smell, the suffering...
Do you want to go back
Because the Way is like that
It destroys you... but it hooks you
It's not pretty all the time
but it's real
And that is why it is never forgotten
