Sept 11th
September 11 — Pamplona to Obanos
That central AC did wonders. I started walking early because I wanted to begin September 11th with Mass, something I have traditionally done for the past 24 years. I couldn’t find a service that morning, so instead I went to the cathedral to say a prayer, it was beautiful
September 11th has always felt heavy to me. My life, and the lives of so many people I know, changed forever that day. But this year felt different. I wasn’t in the United States, and here it seemed like an ordinary day. I didn’t hear anyone mention the anniversary. So I decided to remember it in my own way.
Every time I passed an open church, I went inside and lit a candle for the people I knew who lost their lives that day, and for all those I never knew whose lives were changed forever.
Once again, the Camino trail landscapes drastically changed in one day. I started in a city, walked through a huge university leaving the city , crossed and walked along a highway, and suddenly found myself back in farm country, climbing hills with spectacular views in every direction. It was a beautiful day to walk quietly.
This year, instead of focusing only on the sadness, I focused on gratitude. I walked several miles for special people whose names and intentions I’m carrying with me on this journey. At one of the highest points of the day, I reached Alto del Perdón, by far one of the most beautiful vistas I’ve seen yet.The famous iron sculpture of pilgrims stands along the ridge, surrounded by wind turbines stretching as far as the eye can see. Etched into the monument is the beautiful phrase about this being the place “where the path of the wind crosses that of the stars.”
I had another little moment of Camino magic. As I was leaving, I looked down and saw a credit card on the ground.I went from person to person asking if anyone had lost it. No luck. I decided to carry it with me and contact the credit card company when I had service.
About three-quarters of a mile later, I ran into a couple I had spoken with earlier. They had just heard about an Australian woman who had lost her card. She had stopped walking and was sitting along the Camino asking everyone who passed if they had found it. Her entire trip was tied to that card, and she desperately didn’t want to cancel it.Then another man walking by overheard us. He happened to be Australian too. Without hesitation, he said, “I’ll walk it back to her.”And off he went with her credit card nearly a mile uphill to find a woman he had never met. That moment stayed with me. The kindness along this path is next level. Strangers look out for strangers. It’s palpable .And on September 11th, of all days, that struck me.
Twenty-five years ago, in the midst of unimaginable tragedy, I also witnessed extraordinary acts of compassion and strangers helping strangers in NYC that lasted well beyond the 11th Today, thousands of miles away on a trail across Spain, I saw a much smaller example of that same human instinct: Take care of each other.
Maybe that was what I needed to remember today not only how fragile life can be, but how much goodness there still is in people. And then, after all that reflection, the Camino brought me right back to reality.
I had walked from Pamplona to Obanos, a tiny village of only about 800 people. By the time I arrived, I was hot, hungry, tired and apparently completely incapable of finding my B&B on google maps in the last 350 meters away. I stopped two women walking their dogs and asked for help. Somehow, between the three of us, we managed to walk in a complete circle twice and still couldn’t find it , we had to call .My feet were on fire by this point.
Eventually, I found Maria’s house, a B&B I was staying at. Maria greeted me warmly and was a gracious host, but she did not speak one word of English. This did not stop her from speaking Spanish to me a mile a minute as if I understood every word. I smiled, nodded, and hoped I wasn’t agreeing to anything too important.
I was starving and quickly learned that Obanos has exactly one restaurant, which didn’t start serving food until 8:30 p.m., and one little supermarket that was supposed to reopen after siesta at 5:00.It finally opened at 6:15.
Another Camino lesson: I need to do a much better job provisioning my day pack. It was hot, I hadn’t eaten enough, and I could definitely feel my energy dropping. Maria’s B&B had a beautiful view and a pool, which felt like absolute heaven on my sore feet. No blisters yet, knock on wood but they are definitely starting to feel the miles.
Maria brought me to my room and discovered my room had no air conditioning. Okay, no problem. There was a fan, soon to realize the fan was broken. So there I was in a village of 800 people, hungry, exhausted, unable to speak to my host, with no AC and a broken fan.
In addition to the Camino having magic, it definitely has a sense of humor.
There was only one other couple staying at the B&B, and because apparently the day wasn’t random enough, they were Americans whose last name was Murphy. Maria seemed genuinely confused when she discovered we weren’t related through Google translate Two American Murphy’s showing up at the same tiny B&B in a Spanish village of 800 people and not being related apparently made absolutely no sense to her. And somehow, despite being hot, hungry, lost and exhausted, I loved Obonos.
Four days. 54 miles down. No blisters. Lots of lessons. Moving right along.