Camino magic

People who hike the Appalachian Trail or the Long Trail in Vermont often talk about trail magic. I believe in it though I’ve not experienced it there. I have had more than my share of Camino magic over the last month.

A recent example is what I originally called “the little albergue of horrors.”

I had been walking 18 miles or so and was soooo done when I came to a bar/restaurant that advertised itself as the last food or drink for 15 kilometers. And 15 k more just wasn’t going to happen that day. They also had an albergue or hostel off site

I was relieved to find my walking friend had already checked in. I did the same but had to wait for a ride to the albergue, a confusing distance away.

When I first got there, things seemed pretty crappy. There were six strangers from six countries (Canada , Germany, Switzerland, Australia, Israel and the USA) in a tiny room crowded with all kinds of gear.

Nothing electrical beyond lights seemed to work, including WiFi. The shower seemed designed to spread water as far as possible.

We were told we’d be picked up for dinner by 6:30 but no one came till nearly seven. Then an absurd number of us had to fit into the car like circus clowns in a VW beetle. For dinner, we were crowded around two small tables.

It seemed awkward at first but then over dinner—yes, and wine and such—we bonded into a tight little community.

Deep conversations happened fast and were continued over the next few hours and days as the miles went by. I have a feeling I’m going to stay in touch.

The Little Albergue of Horrors turned out to be the Little Albergue from Heaven.

I suspect the difference between hell and heaven has more to do with how the inhabitants treat each other than external circumstances.