May 25, 2013

While I was in Burgos, with access to a telephone, I called ahead and reserved beds in each of the towns I'd be stopping in for the next week. As more and more people converge on the main route, the race for the beds is heating up. Nowhere is it more evident than on the Meseta where the towns are farther apart and the beds are more limited.

In fact, just a couple of days ago, in Terradillos de Templarios, I watch as dozens of pilgrims were turned away and sent on to Sahagún, 12 km ahead. The next day, after looking more closely at my guidebook, I decided to change my route in order to even out the kilometers per day. I would instead take the alternate route, ironically called the Camino Real, since the original Camino had been re-routed  years ago. On the Camino Real, the towns were closer together, but had fewer options for beds, at least according to the book. I was ok with that, even without bed reservations, since I assumed the majority of people would take the recommended route, rather than the one I'd chosen.

I sent my backpack ahead with a transport service to give my aching feet a break, and headed off down the alternate route. I stopped along the way to eat breakfast and as I ate, I read a little more about the two different routes. It turned out the one I was taking was, in fact, the most popular route. This new info made me very nervous. There was no way I could win a race for a bed, even if my feet were completely healthy. My backpack had been sent ahead, so there was no changing my mind. I had to take a deep breath and forge ahead. I agreed that I'd trust God and the Universe completely. I would be taken care of. There was no other way.

When I stopped in another town for lunch, I considered sending a Facebook message to a Camino friend, asking her to call ahead for me and reserve a bed. I began writing the message, then I erased it. I had agreed to place my trust in something larger than myself. Sending that Facebook message would not be trust. It would be me trying to take back control.

When I arrived at my intended destination, I found a beautiful albergue with hot showers, warm blankets and a gracious hospitalera. And plenty of beds. I had been taken care of. There is no other way.

What was I worried about anyway...