The universe from a different angle.

I am 23 years old, on the brink of existential crisis number two, year eight of self-refinement and still riding the emotional roller coaster of life as an adult (how is there not a handbook for this yet?).  I have two years of my bachelor of Ed and the only applicable thing I took for that (minus my mad drinking skills) is a new learned appreciation for good parenting versus the ever prevalent my-baby-is-an-accessory-how-cute-is-he/she stance that TOO many people take.  And double back to self-refinement... (This is why it's been eight years, I am a slow learner, judgmental who?).  So what does this have to do with the Camino?  Why is it that when people ask me what made me want to walk 800km across Spain I resort to blinking doe eyed and unsure?  I don't know why I agreed to the Camino, it's just that simple.

I relented to the offer with little to no understanding of what I was accepting back in October; I had at this point come to terms with quitting my job and fulfilling my deep seeded desire to be a hippie (circa 1970s -apparently today's hippies suck), so what if I have a car to make payments on and a student loan I was trying to forget.  After aquiring a second job, a journal and a new obsession with The Way, my trip had started.  The best way for me to explain the blaze of an adventure that has recently consumed me is to point out that something cannot be found if at first it isn't lost.  Des and I will start our pilgrimage mid-May and while some of it is solely tourist driven I do believe somewhere along those 800km I will find my answer.  I don't know why, but I do know without a shadow of a doubt that I must.

Also. Wine.  Spain because wine.