I arrived into Muxia by bus planning to stay at a hotel. I thought some alone time might be good for me but, as it often happens on the Camino, my plans changed. The place I was planning to stay in was closed and a Hungarian man told me about a really nice albergue just down the street. I went in and really liked it. It was comfortable, the hospitaleiro was very kind and it had a ¨hippy¨ vibe to it. I thought I would feel like an imposter staying at an albergue when I did not walk and so I put my things down and went for a walk along the ocean. Muxia is a very small, quiet town and that is just what I needed. I walked, read, walked and stared and within a couple of hours two pilgrims I knew who had walked from Santiago greeted me. They decided to stay at the same albergue and that evening we enjoyed dinner and the local roaming dogs. One of the pilgrims and I grabbed a bottle of wine and went to sit on the huge rocks overlooking the dramatic ocean watching the sky as it darkened into evening. It was misting and the waves were crashing. The conversation on the rocks was with my young male German friend and it quickly turned into a very deep one about some painful memories both of us had and while there is pain within the threads of the stories shared, it again reminded me of how healing and important it is to share yourself with others. My friend reacted to my stories very kindly and did not overreact or show any pity. As has often happened on the Camino I felt that he was put in my path that day and that moment purposefully and I have been learning to let fate guide me and to not try and control situations such as forcing myself to stay in a hotel because I originally thought I would prefer to be alone. I ended the evening playing music with another young man and went to sleep quite late but preparing my mind for a very long hike to Finisterre the following day.
Waking early I decided that I did not feel it was wise to walk. I was originally excited to walk with another pilgrim who said we could sing the whole day long but the break in my foot is quite swollen, the blisters are red which I have heard indicates they are infected (I don´t want to say there are since I am not sure), I am still having numbness in my big toes and …. yep, I have to make excuses for not walking. There is a lot of guilt involved in this choice, like if I don´t suffer I am not worthy. That is a much larger problem than me not walking – that is a common theme in my life. ¨If I don´t suffer, I am not worthy.¨ (I know my any past boyfriends and all close friends are nodding up and down right now) Unfortunately the only advice I have heard to change this is to tell myself I don´t have to. Sounds good but that has not worked yet as I have a hard time listening to myself. Yet slowly I am showing signs of listening. The albergue felt good and I stayed there. The German man had a genuine and kind smile and so I walked down to the rocks with him when I had originally planned to read alone. I thought I should go to sleep but then a guitar was brought out and so I played. And today was the day in which I think I was really listening to myself. Of course I realize none of these examples are tough choices and yet they are small, incremental ways that I am teaching myself to listen.
My friend decided to stay with me in Muxia and we planned to take a taxi to Finisterre. The hospitaleiro offered to drive us himself and he took a more remote route that lead us to his favourite surfing spot. My friend ended up taking his clothes off and jumping in the very cold ocean. I took pictures for his wife. Funny situations this Camino provides. I spoke to the Hungarian hospitaleiro and even sang him the new Hungarian song I have learned on the Camino and some of the phrases I have learned. He is a very interesting man who has lived all over the world, speaks many languages and has walked the Camino numerous times. It was a really lovely drive and when we ended up in Finisterre and turned the corner, I was taken aback by the commercialism of Finisterre. It didn´t have the same peaceful energy of Muxia and I was immediately uncomfortable. My friend and I got out of the car, said our goodbyes to the hospitaleiro, had tea at a café and immediately jumped into another cab and headed back to Muxia. Sort of crazy to do but now I will now stay in Muxia another two days before I head home. Luckily for me the albergue is only 9 Euros a night so it sort of offsets the price of two rides back and forth to Finisterre and now I can say I have been there. Plus the first drive with the hospitaleiro was so enjoyable and worth every penny.
I love the little albergue here, the two Hungarians working there and the peacefulness of the town and I plan to spend the next few hours reading on the rocks. We have had a reprieve of rain (phew!) and today is beautiful. At times I have loved having this ¨extra¨ time – the result of walking more than I expected to the first few days and not walking onto Finisterre and at other times I feel ready to go home but now that I am in this very serene town, I look forward to the rest of today and tomorrow where I will explore the beaches, read and write. At times I feel guilty for having all this time. It feels like too much luxury for one person to have so much time to relax and enjoy. All this damned guilt and unworthiness, insecurity and anxiety but luckily these feelings are matched with a sense of calm, peacefulness, joy and pride.
I am very glad that two days ago a sweet young Wisconsin woman was put in my path (mentioned in the post ¨stillness¨), yesterday I felt so happy that this young German man was put in my path. Every day or two this happens – just the right person at just the right time. I think these people live in my town too but I am not as open to these experiences there. I hope to continue to have these daily adventures in good ol´ Eugene, Oregon very soon.
Also although I cannot say that I walked from one side of the country to the other, I can now say I have been from one side of the country to the other. Buen Camino!