El Camino: Part 5

I’ve been delayed in posting due to a couple days of travel contingencies, so I’ll truncate this post into a summary of the few days from behind.  And quite honestly this vacation has been incredibly productive in form of rest and reassessment, I just haven’t wanted to write as much. But have no fear, I will be writing consistently once I get back to the states.

I guess I earn the badge of being a *true* writer in being perpetually late on deadlines. To be fair this has been very tiring, I got sick with a fever on my last day that lasted until yesterday (as of Dec. 11) and my day is filled with many interesting things.

Also, it is interesting to see that giving myself the assignment to walk 9-15 miles everyday, secure lodging, do laundry, complete other odds and ends, enjoy good meals and sights, meet and speak with people whom I connect with and then write about it on top of it all (before doing it all again the next day) has been more than I thought it would be. Perhaps obvious in retrospect.

I’ve come away with a much greater appreciation for journalism and journalists. This is a bit of a beast. Yet, without further ado:

Day 3: Redondela to Pontevedra

The night before I did not drink any alcohol. I needed the uninterrupted, interfered with sleep. And I got it.

I had numerous very intense dreams, right in a row, seemingly aligned with my circadian sleep cycles. Four to be exact. I don’t remember them now unfortunately.

Though I used to religiously record and analyze my dreams, according to a recent conversation I had with a prominent psychoanalyst “99% of people don’t pay attention to their dreams and their just fine.”. So I’ve been paying less attention. And I had a whole day to tackle ahead of me.

It was a chilly, misty morning. The sun in Galicia is now coming up around 9:15am, which is very strange to navigate. After lying down to sleep each night exhausted, to force yourself to wake up and before the sun rises – even though it is well past 7am or so – is made that much more difficult.

Regardless, I emerged from my municipal Albergue at around 7:45am. I was nudged out by a sixty-something year old man who was mildly rude - speaking on the phone in a bunk only a few feet away from me after 10pm (call me a party-pooper, but this dude could definitely do everyone else and myself a courtesy by stepping out of the fucking room) and snoring loudly.

Seems like you would learn this lesson by the time you’re sixty. Nevertheless, I benevolently forgive him. Namaste, amigo.

Me and the old gent get ready in the spacious and modern common area, doing a little stretching and eating breakfast. I meditate for about 15 minutes. Very nice doing so, as I’ve been spotty with this habit during this vacation. We both head out moments after each other, although he turns the wrong direction. He’s out of sight before I can shout to him and point the way. Such is life.

I find a café open, still before sunlight at around 8am. I order a double espresso and a water, while the flatscreen informs me that just yesterday three separate tornados formed off the coast of La Vaz, with the extraordinary footage to match. Getting my stamp (of which one is required to acquire two per day in a specially dedicated booklet on the Camino) I head out the door and barrel into the day.

I am alone most of the day. I see a few people here and there from my hostel but I am at different paces than them and I’m looking to make good time today. So I do.

The only exception is when I see a guy ahead of me who was also in the Albergue the preceding night with me. We are ascending a forested part of the Camino with the coast to our left. He has a speedy pace and passes me as I contemplate a shrine with images of passed away loved-ones from former pelegrinos.

We reach a juncture where the Camino bifurcates; one path steeper and the other a switchback so as to aid the elderly, infirm or slow-riders.

He is staring at his phone in obvious confusion. I nod to him and say ‘Que Pasa?’. He shows me his map quickly, where it clearly shows himself deviating from the ‘El Camino’ path a few hundred meters back.

‘I think we missed a turn.’ He says with finality, clearly not seeking my input. He heads back down the trail we just came from, and I can hear him muttering to himself ‘Lost, lost.’.

Yet, right in front of me I see a stone pilon with the quintessential yellow seashell, arrow on a blue background pointing me on up the hill. He seems to be thoroughly unconvinced by the reality in front of him and possessed by his map.

This moment was fantastic to me because it was in deep accordance with a concept I’ve been long familiar with but rereading about through Nicolas Nassim Taleb’s ‘Black Swan’ – The Map is not the Territory.

In NNT’s accounting of the high falutin world of Wall Street VCs, Traders, Investors and Economists; they are constantly at prey to succumbing to the trap of ‘Platonizing’ their knowledge. That is – confusing their cognitive ‘maps’ of reality (given their PhDs and/or Egos as “thought-leaders” or executives or whatever) for the ‘territory’ or the reality right in front of them.

This guy on the trail was a microcosmic example of this principle. It was awesome to see it manifest right before me. Especially since it is something I’ve wrestled with the majority of my early adult life so far.

It leads me to ponder - why so many people I’ve come across in life seem unable to truly think or take action for themselves? Especially when the beliefs they hold are clearly not working and may in fact be harmful.

It’s because we live in a world where we Platonify our knowledge, we follow a map as opposed to exploring and navigating the territory ourselves. This doesn’t me we should drop out of society and instantly become hippie-Jesus; living off of good vibes and unemployment checks.

As NNT says, Platonic knowledge is mostly useful except when it’s not. Especially when it comes to ‘Mediocristan’ v. ‘Extremistan’ – two concepts of which are outside the scope of this piece.

But suffice it to say, our standard mental models work in the right context, but they can be very wrong, sometimes quite harmfully so. Especially when we cling to them despite contradictory feedback from reality.

This episode aside, the rest of the day was spent moving ass.

My only other break was for about 15-20 minutes at a lovely, tiny café in the town of Arcade, situated next to a beautiful river spanned by an ancient bridge.

The fact that it was a tidy, well-run shop with American protein bars was great, but what’s really worth mentioning was the woman running it. I didn’t get her name but the absolute radiance of her smile at my presence in the building was like drinking bottled sunshine.

It was absolutely infectious. There was nothing special she said or did, but it was evident she was a very happy woman and happy that I was there. For no reason at all. Just radiating Joy. So she wished me a ‘Buen Vida’ as I left – a Good Life – and I was beaming as I strode across the mossy stone bridge into the redolent countryside.

I made it into Pontevedra by about 1230pm. I covered 11miles in about 5 hours. I was very tired and sweaty as I had kept a steady pace.

Being the off season of the Camino, I had to knock on a few darkened doors before a kindly café owner pointed me to an open hostel. I got a private room with a fantastically comfortable bed, which was great after passing a night in the spartan municipal hostel.

I spent the rest of the day eating two meals, taking two naps, doing laundry and buying groceries. I wanted to write but by the time 9pm rolled around I was tapped. I hit the pillow and was out.

I was awoken the next morning by what sounded like a school recess session right next store. I thought to myself I must be next to a school, logically.

As I got ready and headed outdoors, I was greeted by an early twenty-something with a beer in her hand who wished me a Buen Camino. I turned the corner and there was about 20 youngins at a bar vibing. It was 9:15am. Viva vida. So I came to discover it’s Nadal – Galician for the Christmas season.

It was an overcast, misty morning once again. I trudged out of the grey, rain-slick city. And I began day four.

I’ll leave you there for now. Thank you for reading and much love.