Blisters and Perseverence

Saint Jean Pied de Port represents for many walkers the beginning of their pilgrimage to Santiago. Its position at the foot of the Pyrenees makes it the gathering place for excited and fresh pilgrims. The city is an eddy, a confluence of humanity aspiring to walk the Camino. Everyone is raring to hike over the pass into Spain from France.

Who and why, then, am I to talk about blisters and pain in that context? Because sooner or later, you’ll get them.

I hobbled into Saint Jean Pied de Port at the end of our 353-km, two-week walk from Moissac, France. We were hiking the next day to Roncesvalles, thereby finishing up the route from Le Puy which would leave us just 400 more km before completing the entire 1520 km of the Chemin de Saint Jacques and the Camino. However, a broken pinky toe and broken fourth metatarsal conspired to give me tendonitis (from changing my walking pattern) which culminated in a deeply and badly infected blister on my heel. Two days before, I had switched from walking in my hiking boots to walking in sandals because each step sent shooting pain from my heel all the way up my leg. I must have appeared to be in bad shape because two French motorists pulled over to ask me if I needed a ride, which I graciously declined.

That night in Saint Jean, I asked my partner to lance the blister and pack it with antibiotic cream. The next morning, when we set off in the dense fog, still in pain, I said to my friends, “Just leave me alone, go on ahead. If there is a turn, wait; otherwise, just go.” I was bound and determined to make it over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles even if I had to crawl on my knees. I did not have to, mercifully.

The Camino turns out to be the great equalizer for those who walk it. While each person is encouraged to hike his or her Camino, the physical, mental and spiritual challenges tend to sneak up on everyone. Tomás and Annie discover that their bodies won’t quite do what they want them to do — Annie is outpaced by everyone and weeps into the phone that she is “wrecked up here,” afraid of having to give up. Tomás reflects that, “Blisters have been the least of my problems. By now I have, like, five on a foot, but I’m telling you I can’t even feel it. Because, halfway through the first day, … I’ve developed some sort of tendonitis or something.”

Tomás, however, discovers kindness from near strangers. His suprise comes in the form of shoes: “So, yesterday Juan Carlos left and he left me his shoes…. I mean, it’s not very many people who leave you their shoes, and they say, ‘Mail them back to me.’”

Unexpected kindness like this mitigates the pain that can accompany the kilometers, feeds instead a pilgrim’s determination to walk and keeps many a pilgrim from quitting.