Baptism of Fire

It was an attempt to raise money for charity that had compelled me to be in this rain-soaked corner of France. That was one motive driving me forward as I trudged up a seemingly never-ending ascent. “A veritable baptism of fire” The guidebook had informed me, awaited my first day on the Camino De Santiago, a pilgrimage that snaked across Northern Spain. Baptism was an apt turn of phrase. My route went through the Pyrenees from St Jean Pied De Port, France to Ronvescalles, Spain and a steep incline was made harder by rain that seemed to slant down at every angle, splattering me from all sides. The conversation among the pilgrims I met had been each person’s final destination; my cheery reply had been, ‘Santiago! ’That was over 800km away and felt every step of it as I stood at what felt like the high point of the mountain at last, surrounded in thick fog and completely alone. Apprehensive now as I almost lost the friendly yellow arrow that marked the trail, I walked on, feeling the water slop around in my ‘waterproof’ shoes. I had envisaged crossing the border as a momentous occasion, marked by taking a celebratory picture, instead I found myself marching swiftly on, disdaining to search my water-logged backpack for my equally water-logged camera.What on earth am I doing here? A friendly Italian summed up my thoughts as he walked beside me “Hot shower” Having misread my guidebook I believed that I had 5KM to go, so it was a pleasant surprise to round the corner and see the Alberque in which I would be staying the night, as a pilgrim. I received a stamp marking completion of the first day and after a hot shower and some food, even began to look forward to the next day. It was a feeling that would only increase as the community spirit that embodies the Camino De Santiago enveloped me until I couldn’t think of anything better to do than to be walking every single day and experiencing new challenges, new sights, new people, new adventures. My Way had truly begun.