My morning started with Psalm 100, a fitting start for Mi Camino:

“Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

Worship the Lord with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs.

Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture.

Enter His gates with thanksgiving and Jis courts with praise; give thanks to Him and praise His name.

For the Lord is good and His love endures forever, His faithfulness continues through all generations.”

We spent a fitful night in beds measuring 5.5 feet (making this estimation was easy, as I stretch 5 feet, 5 inches). A 10-minute walk from the Hospedaje Magallanes through light rain did little to dampen spirits, and I knocked a little rust off my Spanish when asking from which platform we’d catch our bus.

A well-meaning – or, perhaps, completely oblivious – German Camino hiker struck up conversation and promptly informed us we should alter our hiking route from the Camino Primitivo to the Camino Frances. Point of tact to inquiring minds: Don’t tell strangers to change their destination at the transportation station. *eye roll* We’re still headed to the Camino Primitivo.

The bus route took us along the coast, with glimpses of the Bay of Biscay at intervals between trees and chapels. The rain slowly ceased, giving way to an airy fog that added a delightful mysteriousness to the rugged terrain away from the sea, mountain ranges that both delighted me and made my feet and legs a little nervous. I was amazed at the number of fellow pilgrims found at various bus stops, all with similar but unique gear for their journey.

Now, we’ve passed through the rain and reached our endpoint…startpoint…uh…

Whatever it is, we’ve got a plane to catch in 3 weeks and 300 km. Better hit the trail!

Buen camino!!