I am always intrigued by the search terms used to find my blog. Recently someone wandered over here by googling “naked in the albergue on the camino,” which has now joined “fat guy in swimsuit” in my all-time favorite searches. (I googled the albergue one and sure enough, my blog pops up on page 6. Someone was very dedicated to unearthing all there is to be known about this condition.) (By the way, don’t try googling “fat guy in swimsuit,” my post doesn’t come up, at least not that I had the patience to find, and especially don’t do an image search because a lot of those images have nothing whatsoever to do with a swimsuit.)

Camino has been on my mind a lot lately, though. A mere few months ago I could not imagine ever wanting to do it again but something – my transient lifestyle, I suppose, or perhaps packing my Camino pack once again with the intention of living out of it – has made me think wistfully of the simple life of just walking. All your belongings fit into a backpack and your life’s worries consist of finding a place to sleep and acquiring food. I mean, I guess that is all you ever really need to worry about but on the Camino that is literally what you are doing. Your time is spent walking and talking and thinking and just being. (This is a romanticized version, of course. I just read back over my Camino posts, which I actually never finished, and was forcibly reminded of the interpersonal difficulties and PAIN ALL THE TIME and my recent musings have neglected those very important items.) Everything just seems so hard and directionless right now (no one told me coming home was the hard part!), the idea of walking and thinking and eating tortilla and following the yellow arrows seems so simple and appealing. There are no yellow arrows in real life.