Early Morning Struggles and the Pilgrim’s Call to Transcendence

I woke before my alarm today, at quarter past five, my body somehow knowing the journey ahead demanded these early stolen moments. Despite what should have been the best sleep in a while, I felt a heaviness lingering in my bones—already struggling, already aware that today would ask more of me than yesterday.

At dinner last night, a Canadian gentleman and an Irishman asked me about the pilgrim’s saying: “Ultreia et suseia” — to go beyond, to go farther, to go higher. This morning became precisely that—walking beyond the exhaustion that had no right to claim me so early, beyond the tender points where blisters were announcing their imminent arrival, beyond the subtle swelling of feet not yet acclimated to this daily pilgrimage. Each step a small act of transcendence.

By ten past six, I was already walking from Puente la Reina. Thankfully, a bakery was open where I could gather breakfast for the journey ahead.

The Path Through Mañeru to Magical Cirauqui

The road to Mañeru passed quickly despite a few hills to climb. I simply said my rosary, and suddenly I was there. This little town was still mostly asleep, with just a couple of schoolchildren hurrying to make their lessons. I left it behind and continued toward Cirauqui, a town I remember fondly from my previous pilgrimage in 2019.

Cirauqui appeared on the horizon like something from a poster I’d treasured as a child—a magic-touched medieval town perched impossibly on its hill. What strikes me most about this place is how the buildings honor the earth beneath them. No one has flattened the hill to make construction convenient; instead, each structure adapts to the terrain’s whims. One side of a building might stand a full story taller than its opposite face, the entire town a testament to human adaptation rather than domination. We built with what was there, not despite it.

Weather Challenges and Muddy Terrain

The path before Cirauqui narrowed between high plants and bushes. I felt grateful I’d chosen sports trousers instead of linen for this journey. On this cold, damp, and briefly rainy morning, linen would have taken hours to dry while these dried in no time.

In Cirauqui, I stopped for a break. I had breakfast, drank tea, and shared time with fellow pilgrims I’d met before—even before the pilgrimage began, when we were traveling from Biarritz through Bayonne to Saint Jean. We spoke briefly, shared reflections, then separately continued toward Lorca.

The weather remained cloudy and rainy at times, with mud transforming the journey into something more primal. This wasn’t just walking—it was negotiating with earth that refused to hold firm. Each step became a deliberate calculation: the mud pulling at my shoes, stealing my purchase, forcing my muscles to compensate for the slide. My pace slowed to a fraction as I searched for stones, patches of grass, anything that might offer solid ground. The physical toll of fighting for each step multiplied my exhaustion far beyond the mere distance traveled.

The Three Phases of the Pilgrim’s Journey

Though beautiful altogether, I found today quite exhausting. There were waves of appreciation and joy for being on the Way, but these were gradually followed by exhaustion and pain.

Though this is only my fifth day of pilgrimage, I’ve already reached the stage of perseverance. When I walked the Camino before in 2019, I met someone who shared wisdom that has stayed with me: the Camino divides itself in thirds—first the body surrenders, then the mind, and finally, the spirit receives. The body’s days are full of adjustments and complaints, the mind’s days full of questions and doubts, but when both have exhausted their resistance, the spirit finds a clearing in which to breathe.

The beginning is about adjusting—learning to fall asleep in crowded albergues despite others snoring, waking only to your own alarm. The middle part, through more urban areas of Spain, is about perseverance—sticking to the Way. I remember waking up back then, my mind a tangle of questions: “What am I doing this for? Why am I on this journey?” The final phase is for the spirit—a cleansing that strips life back to simple choices, bringing an incredible lightness, as if years of accumulated decisions and regrets are gently lifted away by the rhythm of walking.

Comparing Past and Present Pilgrimages

Today, I could feel both body and mind struggling. The excitement I experienced before seems somewhat absent. Don’t misunderstand—I deeply appreciate walking this path, being on that pilgrimage for the second time in my life. Yet before, with every corner and turn, there was the thrill of seeing something new. This time, I feel slightly washed out. I don’t exactly know what’s coming, but when it appears, I remember.

The weather in May is also much worse than my previous journey—muddy, rainy, cold. I feel the morning chill. It’s not as pleasant as my previous pilgrimage from June to July.

The Final Stretch to Estella

My next stop was Villatuerta, a beautiful little town. From there, I enjoyed sunny weather with a nice dry, clear sky all the way to Estella, where I’m staying in the albergue. Yesterday I treated myself to a fancy room, but today I’m back to the pilgrim’s life—sharing space with many pilgrims, queuing for the laundry room. I’ve washed my clothes and am praying for weather that keeps them drying as the sky alternates between sun and clouds.

Pilgrimage as Marriage Metaphor

I keep relating this journey to my marriage, as I walk as a pilgrim praying for my sacramental union. I keep thinking marriage is the same—there are sunny moments and rainy moments. But marriage isn’t defined by either of them. Marriage is just keeping walking. Together. Hand in hand toward eternity.

Note to Self

Today, my note is about the humility of asking for help. For to ask for help is to acknowledge we are pilgrims all, temporary travelers on borrowed paths. I may not speak the language of this land, yet find my needs understood in the universal grammar of human kindness. As I ask the heavens, so too I ask the earth; as I surrender to spiritual beings, so too to mortal companions. The pilgrim’s humility—this blessed lesson—dissolves the illusion that we ever walk alone.

Summary

Day 5 (May 13, 2025): Puente la Reina to Estella
Distance: 21.7 km
Walking time: About 6 hours (started at 6:10 am)
Path: Puente la Reina → Mañeru → Cirauqui → Lorca → Villatuerta → Estella
Weather: Cold and rainy morning, sunny afternoon
Accommodation: Albergue Municupal de peregrinks in Estella (€8.00)
Daily expenses: €38.90 (Albergue: €8.00, Tea and rest: €1.20, Bananas: €3.50, Dinner: €20.00, Breakfast: €3.20, Bar: €3.00)

Reflections on Day 5

Today’s journey was about the mental struggle of familiarity versus novelty. Where yesterday was about forgiveness, today became about perseverance and accepting help. Both days connect to my preparation for sacramental marriage with Ken, finding different metaphors in the Camino’s ever-changing landscape.

The weather has been consistently challenging in May, unlike my previous summer pilgrimage. Yesterday’s detours and today’s mud remind me that the Camino, like life, rarely offers a straight, easy path—the journey continually transforms both the path and the pilgrim.