Puzzles and Poignancy

Today I walked 47km by choice- I wanted to walk more but the Alburgues ahead were full.  Walking here is generally finished by 1pm as the temperature is just too high after that, but today it was wonderfully cloudy and that permitted so much more. And today I parted company with Dan after 4 and 1/2 days together- the longest I have stayed with anyone so far, but more of that in the next blog.
The first hour of walking for me is painful as my feet adjust to the pain messages my brain receives from blisters. After this they ease off but then shoulder ache kicks in. I am in awe of pilgrims from centuries past who had no access to either antibiotics or ibrufopen- actually many of them died en route of their pilgrimage. I am not surprised because there is an element of physical endurance- it is one thing to walk 35km in one day but then to do it again and again, day after day is something else.
Still despite the demands on body and mind I cannot remember being happier in years. Each day amazing things happen and I thrive on the spontaneity and unpredicatbility of what that will be.
 Last night I shared a meal with Vernon from Germany and asked him about his life. The pain on his face as he told me about his 2 daughters that he had not seen since he divorced his wife was excruciating and the moment so poignant that the table hushed-it was not appropriate to continue the conversation. This morning in the coffee bar he came and asked if he could talk to me tonight- so much has been stored up for 20 years and only now has the dam burst and the tears began to flow, that he wants to find some resolution, some closure on that that is just to hard to carry anymore. I am doubtful, I tell him that I am the best person to hear his pain. I have walked too closely with a friend in a similar situation to be objective and in any case my path is taking me beyond where he is stopping. But God willing I say, I will be there for you should our paths cross again.
This may sound callous but for my own journey it is a big step- I have seen someone in need and declined to ´be there´for them. I am limited. I am still weeping for my friend and I know the damage that can be done by those who do not recognise their own limitations. My friend Dan thinks differently and gently expresses his concern at my walking away. I listen and still decline.
The walk across the arid meseta is strongly advised to be undertaken in the company of others, but I need to be alone. There is 17km on an ancient Roman road that is 2000 years old, which could  have been built yesterday, with only 1 'fuente' and no shop, town or habitation in sight. How splendid I think, so after lunch I set off against the advice of all to enjoy no habitation and no company.
5km into the walk the sun begins to shine and the going gets tough. I have already walked 26km and the empty Camino is both energising and a little strange. I reach the water fountain (fuente) but it is dry and my water is nearly gone. A strange man goes by on his motorbike and slows as he draws alongside me. This is the first motorbike I have seen on The Camino. He looks then drives on and I breathe a sigh of relief. Up ahead I spot 4 women who later I learn are Spanish and just their presence is a comfort even though we cannot exchange comprehensible words.
My water is nearly gone when a cyclist appears out of the blue and stops. He says 'I have come to bring you water- here drink from this'. UNBELIEVABLE!! Trillions of cyclists have passed me by over the days. I learn that he comes from California and that he is married to a vet. We talk briefly and he goes on his way- after I have told him that he has been an angel to me sent by God. He laughs and departs and I don´t see him again. It is now 35 celsius.
We have a God of such amazing attention to detail- I left my camera charger at home not thinking I would take many pictures. Guess who had the exact same camera- Dan!. He had bought his charger (yes I know this leaves so many unanswered questions about millions who die of lack of food and water). I am only telling my story.
Much love, Kate