A Fish Doesn’t Know It Is Wet

After 3 years of detailed planning and cancellation s one after another, I find myself on the train out of Madrid on my way to Sarria. In the next cabin are my children, two brothers and a nephew. The trials to get us to this point have been many.

Months of training for this walk were wiped away when I was hit with a COVID variant 10-12 days ago. I stayed at home hydrating and resting while dealing with the symptoms and checking the CDC and airline guidance. I gave serious thought of canceling and staying home while the others fended for themselves in Spain. A country I dearly love. Once I became aware that according to all aforementioned guidance, I could make the trip as I was no longer contagious, the question became one of “Should I go”.

It is at this point that I had to look hard at myself and the expression in the title came to me. The answer is simply that a fish has no idea that he is wet. It is his nature. His natural state. He knows of no other. This, to be honest is me. I could no more bow out of this trip than a fish could be out of water.

So I hurriedly packed, left the house at 0430, drove 8 hours to my daughter’s house, went to the airport, flew to Madrid, took a cab to the train station, and here I sit we will spend one night in a monastery and start walking in the morning. Reports and pictures to follow.

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