Preamble
Writing a book about the Way of St. James is difficult, maybe even impossible. Of course you can describe your route, write about people you met on the way or go into rhapsodies about the beauty of nature. However, you can not write down the feelings that will overwhelm you druing that time, because one simply can not put it into words. This is my diary, which I tried to write during my 5-week-long trip from Bilbao to Santiago de Compostela and all the way to Finisterra. 800 km, 500 miles or around 1.000.000 steps which took me closer to my destination and further away from all my worries. One by one.
It's the little things in life
Chicken or cheese? Chicken or cheese? Chicken or cheese?
"Can I have the chicken please? Thank you." This isn't hard, usually your parents teach politeness when you're a little kid. I am grateful my parents raised me to be a decent person. I respect people no matter what they do or where they come from. I hate it, when people think of themselves as superior or more important. It hurts when I see, that people start to believe that they are worth less than others because of that. This is what our world has become. In a lot of places it is missing respect and decency. I am not perfect. Noone is. I have my flaws and I know that I am not always fair to everyone. But when things turned bad, I decided to board this plane.
July, 20th 2011
The flight is uneventful and we touch down on the small airport of Bilbao. Of course my backpack is the last one to appear on the baggage claim and I count around 10 other backpacks that appear to belong to other pilgrims. They get picked up one by one and going by the looks there are no surprises. Clearly pilgrims. Just this one guy is standing there with a cigarette behind his ear, wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers, fiddleing with his backpacks straps to adjust everything. In front of the airport building he comes over to me. "Do you know how we get to Bilbao?" Yes I do. This is the only thing I looked up before I left home. In my travelguide it says Autobus 3247 a Bilbao. And that is exactly what it says on the bus at the other end of a long row of bus stops. So we sprint over there and it takes a few seconds until I catch my breath. I really am unfit right now.
The guys name is Timo and he is the CEO of a company in the solar industry from Stuttgart. He says he worked way too much during the last 4 years and he needed a break. So now he has 8 weeks to discover the north of Spain. He doesn't have much of a plan about what he will do durinng that time, but most likely he will take the bus to Saint Jean Pied de Port and start on the french part of the Way of St. James. Once we arrive in the city center of Bilbao, our ways part already. While he chose the higher frequented route through the heartland, I will follow the coastline as long as possible and enjoy the less crowded Camino del Norte, the way of the north.
And I think it makes sense that the start of my journey is right besides one of the breathtaking examples of architecture I have ever seen, the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. Any other day and I would have waited the two hours until it opened to have a look at all the great art it holds. But not today. I came here to walk so I will walk.
And of I went, taking my first step of about one million.
