camino

It’s a foggy morning and I wake up early, my eyes and mind forced awake by the choir of snorers surrounding me. My muscles are sore, but I lift myself out of the top bunk, lace up my hiking boots, grab my walking stick and go find breakfast: fresh-squeezed orange juice, a tortilla and a hot cup of Cola Cao. Then it’s time to hit the road and hike 20 miles. I’m hiking el Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James) on the French route, stretching 500 miles from St. Jean Pied de Port, France, to Santiago de Compostela, Spain.

(left to right) Simon and Hector Rodriguez stand at the “end of the earth,” Finisterre, Spain, after completing the 500-mile trek to Santiago along the Way of St. James. (kj)Hector Rodriguez walks through an ancient Spanish town, sweat gathering on his forehead as the summer sun pounds down. He sees the cracked stained glass in a church window and gets a stamp in his compostela. He waves to some people, the shells on their backpacks marking them as pilgrims. And then he keeps walking; he’s got another 20 kilometers to go today.