It was one thing to throw myself into my bed in anticipation of sweet sleep, it was another to be able to relax enough to allow it to happen. I was so accustomed to the albergue noise that silence seemed strange and automatically my ears wandered out into
The bus ride to the train station in Frankfurt took an hour perhaps a little longer. I sat staring out the window observing the traffic I hadn't missed in the last four weeks. My mind was in and out of the Camino world and the world in front of me. I gave my mind the task to think about getting home, about how it would feel to
It was Renate.
Renate, the German woman whom I had met at the airport in London at the beginning of my journey. Renate, who helped me and Anna get to St. Jean Pied de Port. Renate, who helped me feel at ease those first first few hours and days of my journey.
When we arrived at the airport I checked in as soon as Ryan Air permitted me to, which tends to be later rather than sooner in case you aren't acquainted with Ryan Air's rather unique check-in procedure. In contrast to the other two flights I had taken to get to France,
When the train went by me and all I could see was the end of the last car, I felt rather numb and much like I had started my journey: alone and afraid. The speed of the train and the clacking of the tracks created a woosh of air and sound that suddenly blew over me and then quickly