Bill wrote in an email the other day that his travel partner, Liza, is quite adept at ‘flipping’ any situation so as to see it from a new angle. Usually a more positive one. Having been encouraged to try this practice myselr, I gave it a shot. This was probably much needed, as the last week has been full of some intense ups and downs. As Cooper is fond of saying (seriously like three times a day), “These are dark times”.

The sun finally decided to come out this week, and I spent most of the first few days it existed skipping with joy and smelling every wildflower. Sunshine after weeks rain is a game changer. Dry boota, warmth, a day friendly faces make for good times all around . But even in the sun I’ve having some issues. Two days after O’Cebreiro, the terrain is still incredibly hilly, and I’m pretty much totally done with it. I can’t handle the hills anymore. Leaving Triacastela, walking up and up and up, I’m on the verge of angry tears. This stupid road is personally victimizing me at this point; The Camino knows exactly what I cannot handle in this moment and it gives it to me. Even on one of the most beautiful days so far, I want to sit and wallow in self pity.

Okay, so how to flip it? The instructions recommend several iterations. This hill is the worst thing that could happen right now…this hill is the best thing that could happen right now…this hill is the only thing that could happen right now…this hill is the perfect thing to happen right now, it’s exactly what I need. Okay, I can sort of buy into that last one. The hills sucked and they hurt but my muscles are getting stronger and they’re good for me in the long run. The Camino is giving me what I need but don’t want. Maybe.

Now I’m in Sarria and I’m surrounded by brand new pilgrims, shining gear, bright eyes and bushy tailed. If you leave from this city you can still get a Compostela, so these pilgrims will only walk five or six days total and get the same piece of paper I will. They’re laughing and drinking and being very picky about pilgrim menus (it’s all just bread and meat people, get used to it) and I’m trying so hard not to resent them. I’m trying not to envy their suitcases full of clothing, but I only have one pair of underwear and my socks are full of holes. How do you not resent them?

These aren’t real pilgrims and I don’t like them…these are real pilgrims and I like them…these are real pilgrims and I don’t care about them…there’s no such thing as a real pilgrim anymore and whether I like them doesn’t matter. I can live with that one.

Several classmates and I spent the evening sitting in front of a restaurant, watching the door and hoping it would open. It didn’t. This is the only restaurant in town–and so far almost all of the Camino–with vegan food, and I haven’t eaten a proper dinner in a month. They have a vegan Seitan burger and I am salivating. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. The Internet says they should be open, but they’re not. Cooper shakes his head and says “These are the darkest of times.” I have to agree. I actually tear up. Everyone decides they’ve waited long enogh, they’re hungry, and they go elsewhere to eat. I go back to the albergue to eat bread and peanuts and feel sorry for myself. I’m trying to flip it now.

I am hungry and disappointed that there is no food, it’s not fair that it’s closed…I am strong for still not giving into hunger temptation (no that’s still letting myself off the hook)…the owner probably needs a rest and I can do without a meal, I’m really no worse of than yesterday.

Maybe.