El Camino: Santa Marina

I spent the last half of today’s walk promising my poor abused baby toes that we only have to do this for three more days - I promise! They were not amused.

I stopped a little over halfway through today’s walk for ice cream and a bite to eat, in that order, and took advantage of a shady nook to take off my shoes and rest my feet on a nearby chair for a bit. The rest helped ease a lot of my aches, but after I finished eating and set off again, my toes cried foul! The next kilometer, every step I took, I felt like someone was sticking pins into an open wound. I was concerned - this was going to make for a long 8 km - but the pins subsided to dull outrage after a while, and I was able to continue on.

The trail was quiet today, peaceful. I walked alone for at least an hour without seeing another soul. It also wasn’t as pretty as it has been; a good deal of it ran along the roadside.

As I was on this section of the trail, a butterfly fluttered out of the brush beside me. As I was taking a moment to appreciate its fragile beauty, I heard the roar of an approaching truck. I frantically tried to shoo the insect out of the path of the roadway, without success. Just as the truck arrived, it flew into the path of the vehicle. I thought sure that delicate life had been squashed - but then the truck roared by, and I saw the butterfly spinning in a crazy spiral before making its way back to the brush; it had managed to get caught in the wind stream and survive. *whew*

The people I did see were friendly; the camaraderie from those first couple of days on the trail returned. I met Mal, who is making his way along the route on those permanent half-height crutches. He has a bum leg. 

And, for the last few kilometers, Barbro was kind enough to slow her steps to walk me on in to our night’s lodging place. It seems she and I are carrying the same question on this quest - “Now I’ve reached this point in my life, where I’ve done so many of the things I set out to do, how do I want to spend my days?” I was glad to meet a kindred spirit, and managed to completely ignore my sore feet for those steps. No small gift.

Tomorrow’s walk is shorter, 16 km. I have thought of another new way to try to protect my sore babies with the moleskin. (Because of where the blisters are and the way my feet are formed, keeping them protected has been a losing battle.) Wish me luck!

Photos: a church in the morning mist; a spiderweb, outlined in dewdrops