I was told early on that the Camino de Santiago has three stages: physical, mental and spiritual. When I last wrote I was squarely in the middle of the mental- no longer under bodily duress but tired of the routine, of Spanish food, of the nightly snoring and farting keeping me awake every night. I began walking the Primitivo route from Oviedo on the first day back to school, a chill of autumn in the morning air, and it was from there on that strange things began happening. I would cruise for hours in a state of euphoria, totally blissed out. Changing the lyrics from Enrique Iglesias’ summer jam ‘Bailando’ to ‘Santiago,’ I convinced anyone I could to sing with me, and when alone serenaded the birds at full volume. I found myself crying at the sunrises, overwhelmed by the beauty found in every direction. Sometimes the wind would blow through the eucalyptus or pines just so, making them appear to bow as I was passing by… and I would bow back.

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