· James Torr · Personal  · 2 min read

I was asked whether I was excited about the trip, and unable to give a fully positive answer. I think being wrapped up in preparation, the logistics of a very early flight and onward travel to Burgos had muted my anticipation somewhat. In the end, with a few minor hiccups, everything, as it often does, worked out just fine.

Resuming last year's Camino Frances from Burgos.

Recap: I walked 12/28 days on the ~800km Camino Frances last year, finishing in Burgos. I’m resuming and attempting completion this year.

I was asked whether I was excited about the trip, and unable to give a fully positive answer. I think being wrapped up in preparation, the logistics of a very early flight and onward travel to Burgos had muted my anticipation somewhat. In the end, with a few minor hiccups, everything, as it often does, worked out just fine.

It’s hard not to overstate the contrast of flying south at certain times of year. From the wind-battered, autumnal South UK coast to lush greens surrounding the north Basque coastal city of Bilbao. As I cross the bridge into the old town, a wave of elation hits me. I’m here. My preparation is over. Minutes later, in the middle of a square, I unabashedly strip out of my warm clothes, into the cotton shirt and loose fitting shorts I’ll be wearing, sweating in and washing daily for the next three weeks.

I revisit some old haunts from last year. Ice cream, lively squares, coffee, riverside walks. Bilbao is a joy to walk through. I stop at a local bar and get into a conversation with a local guy called André. He qualified in law 10 years ago, but he says his parents don’t want him to join the family practice. So they keep a roof over his head, give him a small allowance, and that’s his life. I learn the translation for guilded cage in Spanish, it’s jaula de oro, golden cage. It’s a sad situation, I offer sympathy and advice, I hope he finds a way out of his unhappy but comfortable circumstances.

I say hasta luego to André. I’ve got plenty of time to get the bus, until I haven’t. After a mildly panicked run through the station, I catch it with five minutes to spare. Camino life is pretty slow, the only stress you’ll get is physical, hopefully this is the last of the other type I’ll get for a few weeks.

After check-in and tapas in Burgos, I’m ready to pass out. I’ve been awake since 330, taken three buses, and an aeroplane to get to where I left last year. Am I excited yet? There’s a little nugget poking through the exhaustion. Check with me tomorrow, I might have a different answer.

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