Patience is bitter, but it’s fruit is sweet

Second week finished, with three more to go.  And of my calculations are right, am in my second third of El Camino.  I only mention this as I heard a wonderful description earlier.  They said how the first third is one of physical exhaustion, or getting our bodies into its rhythm.  The second third is about “letting go”, while the final third is about understanding what El Camino has taught us.  I like this, not because I look forward to the final third, but because I too am learning to let go of certain things.  Perhaps I should explain. 

As many of you know already, however, I found these two days in bed excruciating inasmuch sitting-still was never my thing.  Use to annoy the hell out of my parents and teachers when they sent me to my room/corner as punishment given I’d annoy them more than for the reason I was being punished in the first place.  My frustration was all the worse given my room in the Albergue would overlook El Camino, and therefore I’d see other a Peregrino’s walk past with their Peregrino smiles.  

Lucky for the owner of the Albergue, after two days the doctor signed off and told me I could start with a half day’s walk, and if all went well, could get back on the Camino again.  Rejoice, as after showing my feet some love with foot rubs and listening to Barry White tunes, my feet told my body that they were cool if I walked again. They spoke; I listened. 

However much of a buzzkill going to the hospital was, let alone lying in bed, paying for my hospital visit let me laugh it all off.  While healthcare is free for Spaniards, as a visitor I had to pay €29 for the hospital visit/meds.  But given its free for nationals, and unlike other hospitals I’ve ever been to, this hospital had no bills/payment department.  Hence they instructed to pay this bill at the local bank down the road. 

Anyway, hopped my way to the bank and explained in Spanish how I was told to pay at this branch. The teller was obviously annoyed as clearly it was going to be a bureaucratic nightmare for her.  Had to pay in cash and hand over my passport, so they could photo copy it.  After about 10 minutes or trying to input all this info into her computer, she called over her branch manager for help.  She tells her teller, in Spanish, “Tell him not to be a pain in the arse and to go to another bank”.  To which I politely responded, in Spanish and a smile, “I’m sorry miss, I appreciate this is a hassle, but if you stamp the paperwork as ‘paid’, I’d gladly leave you both alone”.  The branch managers face was priceless, responding (again, in Spanish), “Oh sorry, I saw an Australian passport and didn’t think you spoke Spanish”. In a polite tone, and still in Spanish, I responded, “I’m Australian, we’re fluent in speaking pain in the arse”.  We both gave each other a “fuck you” smile, and I went on my merry way.  

Post Script, I had to go back two to same bank two days later, following my follow up visit with the doctor.  And wouldn’t you know it, when I walked in, the teller gave me that look, ‘oh no, mot you again?!?’  So before she could say a word, I told her how I went to the hospital just so I could see her again.  Polite laugh, but when she finished, I leaned in and asked her for a hug, telling her that would make my feet heal faster than the medication and creams I was given.   She obliged, probably because she knew she wouldn’t see me again. 

As for my head and thoughts, all those hours of walking each day clearly leaves one to ponder.  Sure, many times are spent listening to audio books, music, or making new friends.  But equally true, many hours are left to reflect.  But this experience of lying in bed was El Camino’s way of giving me a message, funnily enough a message which was only made clear to me by family and friends who wrote their words of support following my forced rest.  I was reminded how my eagerness to proceed was indicative of a larger problem; my life on a treadmill.  And that sometimes, one has to get off this treadmill in order to truly progress forward.  Silence and stillness is as much a learning experience as motion and variety.  

This was a lesson which I’m both appreciative and still reflecting on.  Given I have another 520 kms to Santiago de Campostela, I suspect I’ll have plenty of time to do so.   In the meantime, wishing you all joy and happiness.  Thank you for following me in this journey of discovery.