A wizard hikes the Camino de Santiago
Greetings dear humans!
Today I have an epic tale to tell. You see, this year when spring arrived after a dark and gloomy winter, I decided that it would be the perfect time to pursue a magical quest!
As I enjoy a pleasant stroll as much as the next wizard, I decided that a hike would be just the thing. And what more fitting than the Camino de Santiago. You see, the Camino was invented in celebration of my dear, deceased wizarding colleague, James, an apprentice of… well maybe I’ll tell you the story some other time.
Now, enjoy the exciting account (and cautionary tale) of my trip, which turned out to be somewhat… hazardous.
Day one
Equipped with my very best and most glittering walking hat and a solid staff (Magical tip #2) I made my way to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. Very lovely little town I must say.
First stop on my quest was the pilgrim’s information office, where a very nice French man tied a seashell to my hat, gave me a little book that said ‘Credencial del Peregrino’ and said a lot of things to me in French that I didn’t understand at all.
I thanked him warmly and stepped outside only to discover two things:
One, it was pouring rain and two, the month of May is apparently the season where all the humans simultaneously have a nervous meltdown and decide to do silly things like walk 800 kilometres just for fun. Thousands of overly excited humans equipped with pastel coloured trail runners and ski sticks were ready to take off and conquer El Camino just like myself.
After dragging myself the 27 km in pouring rain over A MOUNTAIN from St Jean to Roncesvalles, I expected a warm welcome with hugs and hot chocolate upon my arrival. But fate had other things in store.
I was met in the door by a man, who told me that most people book a bed months in advance and that they certainly did not have space for me. I kindly informed him that I was, in fact, a very great wizard and that I could put in a good word for him with the three Norns. He stared at me for a moment and then told me that if that was really the case, then I could just go conjure up a magical tent outside. The audacity!
I seriously contemplated casting a spell upon the place, but decided it would be unfair to the other pilgrims staying there, so I took a deep belly breath and walked on.
After three rather unpleasant kilometres, I arrived in a small town called Burguete-Auritz. I was very excited at the prospect of a soft bed to lie down in, but unfortunately this village seemed to be the place where everyone who didn’t get accepted into Roncesvalles fled to. The albergue and the hotel were both completely booked! Even the shady guy who rented out private rooms in an alley had no space for me.
Enough of this gibberish I thought!
Fuming, I asked the alley-man for a carpet. At this point, my eyebrows were starting to turn black with rage. He nervously asked whether a towel would make do and quickly ran to get it.
When he returned with a small, pink towel, I shouted in my deepest and most intimidating wizard voice: “I can show you the world! Shining, shimmering, splendid!!!!”
The towel came alive in a whirl of yellow sparks and slowly lay down before my feet. I stepped onto it, said goodbye to the man, who now had eyes the size of teacups (had he never seen a wizard before?), and thanked him kindly for his towel. I then flew off into the sunset.
I must admit, it was not the most pleasant of flights, as the towel was not very big – but the two star hotel I booked myself into in Pamplona made it worth it.
To be continued…