Almost home

After reaching Santiago, my Camino was not over yet. Right after picking up my Compostela, I headed to the main train station. However, I couldn't get a ticket because the train was full. The next day is a public holiday (Discovery of America) and all Spaniards are traveling.

Okay, then I'll just go to the next big city. I thought I could continue with BlaBlaCar from Madrid. So after a few hours in the car with a Spanish couple and another Dutch pilgrim, we had a super nice and funny ride. In the car, I wanted to use another carpool option, but Fiona was too big for her. So I'll just take the train.

Late in the evening, in the colorful and lively city of Madrid, I returned to the train station. However, the tickets are only available tomorrow morning. The security let me and Fiona stay in the warm train station until 1 a.m. There is no waiting hall for the night waiters. One of these security men kindly explained to me that the information counter will open at 5 a.m. and that I could wait for the 4 hours at the Burger King next door. But the Burger King was also closed, so we spread out on the quiet street next to the city park, ate, and even slept on the ground. In the middle of the night, inline skaters rush through the city, guards lock the entire city park, and walk through the park with flashlights all night. That's how we felt safe. No one bothered us.

Just in time at 5, we waited for the information counter to open. But it only opened at 5:30. I bought a ticket to Barcelona because from there I could have hitchhiked to Berlin. To be on time in Barcelona, I had to take the first high-speed train and paid a little over 70 euros for it. I quickly ran to the platform, my ticket was scanned, and I went through. But the same woman called me back and told me that the dog couldn't travel with me. She is too big. Now I know that a dog in Spain can only travel on the train if it weighs less than 8kg and is in a box. So my ride from Barcelona flew away and so did my expensive ticket. When I tried to get a refund for the ticket at the information counter, the woman told me it was pointless.

Tired, desperate, unwashed, and without a plan B, we went to have breakfast. Fiona was on strike and didn't want anything either.

I couldn't think of anything better than what I had been doing for the last lovely month. I walked out of the city. I stood at a gas station and asked the drivers if they were going to the north of Spain.

A kind Spanish guy with long hair, Hosse, told me that I had bad luck here. I had to get out of the city and ask at a gas station that leads to the north on a highway.

He took me with him after he dropped off his 9-year-old son at school. This shy boy spoke 3 languages. He goes to an English school, spoke better English than I can, and his mom is Jewish, so he also speaks Spanish and Yiddish. Hosse had to briefly stop by work (university). He leads theater groups with about 60 shows per year. He took me with him, he brought a cake because he had celebrated his 49th birthday the day before. So suddenly I found myself at the table with a librarian, philosopher, and graphic designer. Everyone wanted to know everything about my Camino, one of them was so fascinated and religious, he wanted to see photos and felt inspired. So he thanked me very much, hugged my stinking body, and promised me to think of me when he does his Camino next spring. I gave him a cross that had been in my pants pocket for what felt like forever. A pilgrim gave me these small wooden crosses when Fiona was not feeling well and I was crying. This one is definitely better with him.

This moment gave me one of my biggest lessons. A few minutes before, at the gas station, people looked at me with a condescending look. Anyone who asks for help is weak and/or poor, and is dismissed like a bad side effect. Only moments later, you see yourself again in the eyes of a stranger as an invincible heroine, as a role model, and you feel sincere gratitude. Through this contrast, I now recognize that it is unimportant how people see you. It is much more important to know who you are and how much you can appreciate yourself. Self-appreciation increases with good deeds to this world and to known or unfamiliar fellow human beings.

A plan had to be made now. In Spain, buses and trains do not accept Fiona. Only cars are a viable mode of transportation. So I had to hitchhike or organize a carpool with BlaBlaCar.

So I found Jan-Philip through BlaBlaCar, who drives from the southernmost border all the way to Hamburg and doesn't mind taking Fiona with him. I just had to find a way to get to the starting point on time. So I pulled myself together and tried everything that was possible.

We drove for quite a long time, and Hosse must have dedicated about 2 hours of his lifetime to me. Thank you very much!

Just 15 minutes later, I was in the car with an older sibling couple, Anna and Roberto, headed towards Burgos. The beautiful city where I once walked past. Thank you all too!

Again at a gas station, a young couple, Barbara and André, took me to the smaller city of Vitoria-Gasteiz. Thank you very much!

From there, I booked a trip to San Sebastian with BlaBlaCar, but since the driver did not respond, it was canceled. I waited in the cafe for 2 hours in vain.

Walked out of the city again to a gas station. But I was in the wrong place, so a Spaniard (family Knöll, since his great-grandfather was German) took me 3 km further to the other gas station that goes out of the city. Thank you very much!

The gas station attendant understood me but didn't speak English. She chatted a lot with customers and now asked them in advance which direction they were going. With her finger, she then told me that they were not going in my direction.

A van stopped, the 4 Bulgarian workers were headed to Pamplona and only took me for a short distance. I hugged the gas station attendant as a thank you.

In the car, I felt somewhat safer as we could speak in Russian. Unfortunately, the guys took me to a trucker gas station. Thanks anyway.

I didn't want to hitchhike with a truck and only approached female drivers. But they were either driving towards Portugal or traveling with their husbands and had no space for us. So I wasted another 2 or 3 hours. A minivan stopped, and I asked him to just take me away from here. He took me to a regular gas station. Many thanks! But now it was getting dark, it was raining, and hardly anyone stopped.

A son (Gon) and his dad wanted to know my reasons. But they were only going to the next hostel.

I put on my headlamp, stood at the highway exit, and hitchhiked. A young mother (unfortunately, I forgot to ask her name) picked me up and took me to a safer place to hitchhike. Luckily, it was only drizzling by then.

After half an hour, a car stopped, and it was Gon, the son I spoke to at the last gas station. I have no idea how he found me a few kilometers away. His English wasn't great, but he drove far and very, very fast. He took me about 40 km further. Just like that, because he was worried about me. He told me about a family restaurant he had in Logrono. The city where the wine festival took place. The giant sewer we walked past one early morning. And he confirmed to me that during the festivals, the Spaniards leave extra trash at the restaurants where the food and wine taste particularly good. That's why the city looked so messy.

In San Sebastian, I was dropped off in the beautiful lively city center. Thank you, Gon!

I missed a BlaBlaCar driver. Fiona and I shared a kebab and headed towards the next city. Such a pretty city. Worth seeing! I want to come back here again.

I stood at the exit at 1:30 a.m., and only a few cars were passing by. Another driver picked me up and took me to Irun. Too late to remember his name. He convinced me to go to a hostel. He rang the doorbell of an inconspicuous door. An old man allowed me to stay with Fiona for 20 euros. So I finally took a shower and slept for 4 hours. It was great!

In the morning, I realized how beautiful Irun is. The river with its small boats is the border to France. Next gas station and get there as quickly as possible because 2 hours later and still 60 km away - from Hossegor, Jan-Philip is heading to Hamburg.

A young dad (I also forgot his name) took me across the border for a pack of cigarettes and dropped me off after 30 km. Many thanks.

Jan-Philip asked me occasionally if I had made progress and was worried about me. Since I could only travel short distances and still hadn't reached Hossegor, J-P suggested leaving earlier to pick me up. So we could have a relaxed breakfast and wait.

Jan-Philip is from Pinneberg and a cool young surfer. He was on the French coast for a surfer competition. He has a large VW T5 with a bed and lots of space. Luxury! We agreed not to take long breaks and take turns driving. So one could sleep while the other drove.

An Australian couple was also traveling with us until Paris, doing a Europe tour. Now two more people are joining us to Cologne and Hamburg.

On this journey, it was amazing to see that the fancy and expensive cars drove on without expression. The ordinary people with average good cars had more understanding for me. I am incredibly grateful to all the people who supported me on my last Camino path. I will never pass by a hitchhiker again. And I will not talk myself out of it internally, saying that I don't have time for it or that as a woman I can't take a man with me, or that he probably doesn't want to go in the same direction as me. I promised each and every one of them, who gave me so much kindness along the way, to give it back to other people! So I owe the world many good deeds. :)

I'll take a nap, and tomorrow morning I'll be home if everything goes well :)