The morning started like any other.I swung my unshaved legs over the edgeof a bed tangled with need-to-be-washed sheetsand stretched in waythat reminds me I’ve …
You know it’s bad when the medico tells you not to walk for a few days.
Basile joins me from France in Bilboa. We bypass the industry outside of the city and begin walking the Camino together in Portugalete.
This poem was written in January 2020, eight months after the Camino, but details one of the most defining moments.
I wasn’t supposed to walk, but the spiritual part of the Camino was missing and I believed the answer would be found at the monastery.
We see the return of hero, Guiseppe, on one of the most difficult and body-breaking days of the Camino.
When things (and humans) align in unexpected ways.