Completo

Lizards darted erratically across the path as a cool wind brushed my face. Cowbells echoed and the scent of carob flavored manure wafted by. Wildflowers and dragon flies danced dainty duets, and my ass hurt! 

Caroline and I had said goodbye shortly outside of Santillana del Mar in the morning when our shadows stretched long. I was impatient, ready to test myself against the terrain. I walked through the morning, chatting with cows and horses, and even a llama at one point. The pain in my hip nagged slightly but was manageable. I wandered through cobrèces, taking pictures of the lovely pink church and stopping to eat a cream pastry that should have send me running for tall grass and toilet paper, and I walked on, smiling at any person or creature to come within my orbit. I strolled into the seaside village of Comillas, excited to be finished walking for the day by 130pm and ready to tour the architectural Gaudi creations. However, I arrived at the alburgue to discover that it was completo and a line had formed outside. 

"Where is the next town?"
"12 kilometers"
"Son of a B@&$%!!!"

And after a much needed Fanta, I strapped the backpack back on and headed into the unknown.

Perhaps I could have taken the short route and followed the highway, but where the little yellow arrows go, I must follow. Two hours later, I stood atop a very large hill in the very lonely village of Santa Ana, the world dropping off to the side, the ocean winking from the horizon and the wind stealing tears from the corners of my eyes. My hip aching, my feet sore, my skin dried out, my lips chapped, but my step was light. James was with me. 

My day ended in San Vincente de la Barquera, 36 km after it began. I shared tomatoes and cucumbers with a lovely Frenchman (aren't they all) as a little girl plucked at my ukulele, her infectious giggle filling the room. All around us, pilgrims laughed, ate and chatted into the setting sun as in the distance, colorful boats came home for the night.