Now this was a Camino day for the highlight reel.
We started at 5:30am on a stretch of path full of shaded forests draped along a peaceful river. It was cool, calm, and kind to our feet. And by 10:30 a.m., we were already in town, smugly sidestepping the midday heat like pros who’d finally figured it out.
Laundry came next, and for once, it smelled like something you’d actually want to press against your face. While our clothes spun to freshness, we treated ourselves to a slow breakfast and then I took a little social leap. The previous night we saw a group of twenty-somethings at Mass all sitting together in front of us. Now they were arranging the tables to sit at the same restaurant as us. Like a shy middle-schooler, I summoned the nerve to walk up and ask if they were going to Mass again—and, you know, maybe wanted to grab tapas and beer after? They said yes. Alright, tonight is lining up to be laden with memories.
By noon, we were at the albergue right when it opened. Cue the ritual: shower, change into clean clothes, emerge reborn. A new man. Then came a much needed video call with Teresa. Long overdue since the day previous was so nuts.
Lunch? Oh, lunch. I’ve never had a bad Italian meal in Spain and the place we found looked like they had big portions. Piping hot lasagna, rich wine, dreamy tiramisu, and a cappuccino totally fit the bill. By the time we rolled out of there all fat and happy, I was ready for a 1.5-hour nap and I took it. Camino bliss, unlocked.
Evening brought Mass, complete with a pilgrim blessing and a new stamp for the collection. Then it was time to meet up with my new Mass buddies, and surprise of the day the bar had air conditioning. Actual, working air conditioning.
Turns out these guys weren’t seminarians (we asked—had to). They were Catholic twenty-somethings from Barcelona who play soccer together and have been involved in different Catholic movements, including World Youth Day. They were funny, thoughtful, and full of great stories. At one point, we laughed so hard the waiter had to swing by and politely hush us.
Our group with the Barcelona Futballers
My kids lit up. There’s something about watching your children connect with others their age, in a different language and country, over shared faith and food. It was Camino magic the kind you don’t plan for, but always hope finds you.
I also picked up some crucial Spanish skills. Want the check? Just say “La - quin - tha” while miming your best signature. Nailed it. They all cheered. I also asked them about some questions I've been wondering about. Apparently, it's also totally normal to pay at the bar instead of waiting.
We wrapped the night around 11 p.m., half-worried the albergue would be locked. It wasn’t. We slipped in fine, my belly warm with wine.
Buen Camino, indeed.