The fewer kilometres to the end, the more fun it gets. Understandably, since the trail has been long and brutal. It's pure joy knowing you’ve endured all the Almighty’s tortures up to this point, and the finish line is just around one last long bend. Even though I don’t actually want to go to Santiago, the official end. For me, the goal is the journey itself – everything between the start and finish. That’s why I started slowing down, not wanting to arrive in Santiago too soon.
This wise decision brought me back to Nacho, whom I ran into while sitting at a bar on the trail. We were both happy to see each other. A strong hug followed – and beer. Neither of us felt like walking yet, we were having a great time, and we both knew there was a brutal 4 km climb ahead. Every hiker dreaded it. But it was time to hit the trail again, to face the challenge where you’d be picking your lungs off the ground, calling your mum for help and crying more than once. Before leaving, Nacho rolled a joint. He asked if I wanted a few puffs – I said no. I’d only suffer more, and I’d rather do that at the top of the hill, not at the bottom. The difficulty of this stage was legendary, and no one in the bar wanted to continue. A bunch of hikers decided to take the bus. Nacho and I just exchanged glances and said, “It is what it is.” We threw on our backpacks and headed for hell. That climb brought us to tears. It brought us to our knees. We were swimming in our own sweat. I hadn’t even reached halfway and already wanted to turn around. The hill had me on all fours. I’m faster than Nacho on flat ground, but he’s a beast on the climbs. I couldn’t believe how he powered his way up like a bull in an arena. The incline was absolutely savage. Let me put it this way – if you feel like life is passing you by too quickly, come here. On this climb, time slows to a crawl. And if you want to drop 3 kilos fast – this is the place. My clothes were completely soaked, and I was just grateful the sun didn’t show up until we got to the top. Otherwise, I swear I would’ve shot myself. The Almighty did a decent job with the weather today, but He also tested my endurance. I cried, I screamed that I couldn’t go on anymore, begging for it all to end – and we were still only halfway. If I’d known it was going to be like this, I’d have bought a damn bus ticket.
The original plan was 40 km, but that climb killed me. I decided on the spot to cut the stage short. Enough is enough. When we finally reached the top, every hiker had the same expression – a kind of smile you only get when you conquer your comfort zone. It’s not a regular smile. It’s one-of-a-kind. We all hugged and congratulated each other. And the only thing on anyone’s mind? A cold beer.
The sun came out at the top and dried us off pretty quickly, so we headed together towards the albergue. Somewhere on that hill I’d made the decision to spend a couple of days with a bunch of wild Spaniards. After all, this holiday is also about fun and disconnecting from the insane world, not just challenges. And if you can read between the lines – yes, I was fucking exhausted from that climb.
The town we were heading to had a small lake waiting for us, and nothing beats a lakeside hangout with music and good vibes.
So this year, Mozart and I won’t get to hug. He’ll already be asleep by the time I pass by his home.
