Episode 4 — Not Exactly What You Want, But Exactly What You Need.

It has been a few days since we left Akerreta, and a lot has happened. We have walked through Pamplona, Puente la Reina, Estella and Nájera, and we are now in Santo Domingo de la Calzada.

That is another 86,472 steps, 60 flights of stairs and several very hot days.

I have to admit that the past six days have been really hard and physically challenging. One reason I haven’t posted is that, by the end of each day, I have simply been too tired. There have been long climbs, steep descents, sore muscles and stretches when the heat seemed to drain every bit of energy we had left.

At times, the Camino can sound like a form of unusual self-inflicted punishment. Why in the world would anyone volunteer for this?

And then I think about all the good things that have happened along the way.

I am accustomed to traffic jams on the 405 and the 101, but have you ever been caught in a sheep traffic jam—or one involving horses and bicycles? We encountered both as we walked out of Pamplona. (See video.)

We met wonderful people from Canada, Germany, Utah, Maine and Washington, and shared one of our best meals of the journey. We attended a very special pilgrim Mass, where the priest was warm and welcoming. Even though he spoke only Spanish, he was genuinely interested in learning where each of us had come from and enthusiastically stamped our pilgrim passports.

We also climbed to the famous Monumento al Peregrino at Alto del Perdón, where the silhouettes of medieval pilgrims stretch across the ridge. There we met Juan Paulo, who wanted to share a little wisdom with us. (See video.)

Sometimes what we want is an easier road, cooler weather or fewer miles. What we may need is the opportunity to discover that we can endure more than we believed, to accept help from others or to slow down long enough to listen.

At the top, we also met a man from Laguna Beach offering free coffee from his van to passing pilgrims. Thousands of miles from home, there was someone from Southern California waiting with a cup of coffee and a generous spirit. It was a small kindness, but on the Camino, small kindnesses rarely feel small. They often arrive at exactly the moment you need them.

And today, we visited the Cathedral of Santo Domingo de la Calzada. It is one of the most beautiful and well-preserved cathedrals we have ever visited—and it may also be the only cathedral in the world with a live rooster and hen residing inside.

The rooster tradition dates back to the 13th century. A young pilgrim was falsely accused of a crime and hanged, but through a miracle attributed to Santo Domingo, he survived. When his parents went to tell the magistrate that their son was still alive, the skeptical magistrate reportedly replied that the boy was no more alive than the roasted rooster and hen on his plate. At that moment, the birds sprang to life and began to crow.

There must be something to the story: live roosters have been kept in the cathedral ever since.

There has also been time. Time to think. Time to pray. Time to talk. Time to notice people and places we might otherwise have passed by.

The Camino is hard to explain because it is both things at once. It is aching feet, oppressive heat and bone-deep fatigue. But it is also unexpected friendships, shared tables, unusual traffic jams, sacred moments, generous strangers and laughter when you need it most.

Perhaps that is why people willingly do this. The Camino asks a great deal of you physically, but somewhere along the way, it begins giving something back—not always what you want, but often exactly what you need