09/09/2025 - My whole body hurts when I move.

I had the best night of sleep yet, from 22:00 to 6:00. I’m starting to get used to this rhythm, and finding joy in the small things. And I believe is the whole point of the Camino which is being placed in situations of minimalism and physical effort. As cliché as it sounds, it is true because I'm rediscovering to be content with what I have on the moment.

I got ready this morning, took the time to do my eyebrows quickly, shave my legs, refresh my curls, and apply cream everywhere. I may be natural, but at least I’ll be neat and a little cute with it. That’s my compromise. I find my traits beautiful at the moment: my face has a natural glow, my messy waves don’t bother me as much as I thought, and I’m not focused on how I look, which is a nice change.

Andres was waiting for me and Christian, but the latter had a rough night with his feet. They were still in really bad condition this morning. He preferred to care for them and take the bus to Pamplona, our next stop, 19 km ahead. Understandable, I don’t know how he could’ve even put his shoes on. So we split, had breakfast, and went on our way. I put socks inside my Keen sandals today (my favorite shoes), and it made all the difference. The little rocks couldn’t slip through the openings and irritate my feet anymore, that’s what caused the blisters on my toes.

I called my dad and sister and talked with them for almost an hour about my journey so far, the little details, but also about my sister’s breakup a few months ago, and how her ex is now coming back regretting his actions. She’s holding her ground, though, because she’s heard the same song once too many times. She’s reckless with it sometimes, I love a wild Sagittarius Venus. We also talked about my dad, who’s in Gili Trawangan at the moment, with a schedule consisting of paddle, paddle, and, well… paddle. He loves this game, and I love seeing him so giddy about it. It makes my heart so full when they’re happy.

And then, of course, the conversations and most profound topics with Andres again. He really is amazing. A grounded Leo man of forty-one. A great listener who loves to ask questions and wonder about himself. He told me he wasn’t mature enough before, and that’s why he didn’t want to commit to a relationship and bring someone else into the equation, which I can relate to. We shifted to many different subjects and opened up to each other vulnerably.

Louna: “If you imagine a version of you in the future, and looking at it you think: wow, what a great man! In which way is this version different from who you are today?”  

Andres (with a strong Argentinian accent): “I see a man more independent, with his autonomy, who dares to do his own things.”  

Louna: “When you’re talking about independence, is it physical, mental, emotional, spiritual?”

Andres: “More so emotional, I guess.”  

Louna: “And when you think about this independence, what prevents you today from having it?”  

Andres: “It’s the people around me, their judgments, what they think… but mostly their expectations about me. I feel trapped sometimes.”  

Louna: “It makes sense. So what can you do to allow more independence regarding the people in your life?”  

Andres: “I have to set boundaries with them, and not allow them to have such a strong influence in how I want to build my life.”  

Louna: “You just said it. And you also said YOU have to set those boundaries. You need to voice them, because they don’t know about the ones that you're deciding to set in your mind until you express them out there. And if they choose to cross them, you can remind them of the moment you set them. That way you prevent it from happening again, because you respect yourself and your boundaries. And if they don’t, then they shouldn’t have access to your energy.”  

Andres: “It’s easy to say it but hard to actually take action on what we know we need to change.”  

Louna: “It’s called embodiment, and that’s where we shift our realities, when we actually push through and do what we said we would do. Many people fall short and lack integrity with themselves in this regard. But it’s worth it.”

Andres: “I’m going to record a voice memo to remind myself when I get back home.”

It was beautiful to share openly and land on tangible actions for a problem that only he can resolve by himself. Will he actually set those boundaries? It’s not my responsibility. But I hope so, for him, because he deserves to be free to be. We all do. It's something I had to learn in the past years with friends and family, therefore I could definitely relate to his inner troubles.

We arrived at the edge of Pamplona, a big vibrant city, and after just a few days immersed in nature, the sudden agitation and crowd felt strange. At least for five minutes lol. By the last half-hour I only wanted the walk to be done. It’s like my body knew we were almost there and just desired to let go. I pushed through, and since we hadn’t booked the same hostel, we went our separate ways.

I hadn’t booked anything, but I knew I wanted to stay at the Albergue Jesús y María, an old church in the city center converted into a hostel for pilgrims. The place is beautiful, and because I was early, I got one of the first beds. I wasn’t too worried anyway. Roncesvalles seems to be the end point for those doing the French path and the starting point for the Spanish one, so it was really busy there. But now it feels like there’s space. I booked the next two nights here, wanting a mix of cheap but meaningful hostels, and also some more comfortable ones.

I went straight for a full shower, then did my laundry, left it to dry in the sun, and took care of my feet, piercing a small blister on my toe again, creaming them. Then I headed out for lunch at a typical tapas spot, where the vitrines are loaded and you have to order with the confidence of someone born with a piece of jamón ibérico in their mouth. I put on my best accent and ordered an actual full plate of it, plus a red pepper and tuna salad. I ate as fast as I ordered, then came back to the hostel.

Just before getting in, I thought it’d be a good idea to look for a sleeping bag. I found a Decathlon not too far, but walking even ten minutes felt like torture. I did it anyway, only to hear I’d have to go to the big Decathlon, thirty minutes by bus from the center. I weighed the comfort I’d gain tonight against the pain it would take to get there, and I couldn’t do it. Physically and mentally, it would’ve been too much. So I searched for a local pilgrim shop instead. And when I got there, it was closed. I almost wanted to cry. My period is coming in four days, and today I felt the first signs of that sensitivity reaching through. I dropped the mission altogether and went back to the albergue.

I laid down and tried to read The Doors of Perception and Heaven and Hell by Aldous Huxley, which Andres had recommended in one of our talks about perception. But I was still fired up after posting a few stories on Instagram. Being witnessed still triggers me sometimes, especially now that I’m showing my most natural self. I love the pictures Andres and Christian took of me and of us these past days, I’m radiating, and it shows how happy I am. But there’s something about inviting others into my happiness that feels like an invasion, and it annoys me. Then I relaxed and let it go. I'm so contradictory sometimes, wow. I get triggered but still post. Why? Because repeated exposure to the same trigger, with care, will soften it, until it can disappear. I hope so at least.

I called Eden and sat outside in the sun while stretching, telling her about my adventure and hearing about her life. I always tend to avoid phone calls, I don’t know why. I think it’s the anticipation that feels like a task, as if I have to be present and deliver, while I’m in such a different flow. But when I actually do call, I love it. Talking to her filled me with joy again.

I’m back in bed, tired because I didn’t nap today. My whole body hurts when I move, and all I want is to lie down and watch something on my phone before passing out. I know tomorrow is supposed to be a tough day, and with my period approaching, I can feel the tenderness already. But by writing this I realize it doesn’t have to be. Someone told me the fourth day is the worst, and I let that get into my head. Tomorrow, I’ll simply wake up, get ready, and go, without expectations of how it will unfold. But for now, I leave you with a farewell, and a kiss on the forehead.

With love, Loune.