19/09/2025 - Two glowing eyes.

Believe it or not, I’m lying in a real double bed, wrapped in comfortable sheets, naked if I’m being completely honest. I’ve rented an apartment for two nights in Burgos, one of those recommended spots to pause on the Camino. After thirteen straight days of walking, I simply needed it. And wow, what a feeling: my own room, my own bathroom, silence, and space. To be alone feels like a luxury. Every little comfort I normally take for granted suddenly feels sacred, and I know that every time life strips me of them, I return with more gratitude.

But let me start from the beginning, in that damp hollow bed where the day began. I woke up at 6am, got ready, and stepped onto the path without checking what lay ahead. It turned out to be three kilometers through a forest, in total darkness, my headlamp beam the only guide. I could have been terrified, alone, no sound but my footsteps, but instead I felt strangely calm, almost thrilled by the frisky, adrenaline edge of it.

Well… until I saw two glowing eyes. And heard a loud noise coming from the same direction. No time to think about what kind of animal it was, I turned and ran, heart pounding, hoping desperately for another headlamp to appear. After a few minutes, it did. I forced myself to calm down, not wanting to pass my panic on. So when I reached the light, I acted like nothing had happened, cranked my lamp to its brightest, and fell into step with Claire from New Zealand, a seventy-year-old woman (not the fiercest ally if a wild beast had attacked, lol). I made conversation loudly, partly to scare off whatever was watching.

And then the reveal: horses. Three majestic horses standing peacefully among the trees. I burst out laughing, explained my terror, and Claire laughed too. She thanked me for not freaking out, saying she had a blister and couldn’t have run. We laughed again and carried on, the forest behind us, into one of those timeless little villages, all stone and silence. The sky shifted purple against the yellow of the fields, a vision I’ll carry with me forever. This, I thought, is what poets and painters were made from: dawn.

The walk unfolded into a rhythm of fields and villages. I stopped for my daily motivator, coffee and pastry, and met two German girls and a Canadian man. We chatted, and I noticed, as I often do, all the silent cues in body language, the unspoken dynamics. The oldest, a woman in her fifties, glanced at me with that familiar mix of judgment and jealousy. The kind that says: because I’m pretty, I can’t also be kind. Because I’m not like her, I wouldn’t understand. It’s as if she was waiting for me to slip, to reveal I wasn’t the person I seemed. She stayed quiet until I turned to her and asked about her life. Then she softened. Opened. I don’t know why I always feel the need to reassure women like this, to make them comfortable, to prove I’m not a threat. It’s a shame that we see each other that way.

Eventually, I said goodbye, I needed to walk alone. After yesterday’s experience in the cathedral, I felt raw, and intuition told me to revisit some old memories. I put on my “Spacey Heaven” playlist (Spotify: @louna.gregoire) and drifted into the past, faces, moments, feelings I no longer carry but still remember. Some songs made me cry, others made me smile. Sadness and happiness braided together, reminding me of how far I’ve come, and how grateful I am for the choices that brought me here.

The walk itself was brutal, twenty-seven kilometers, my tendons stretched thin. By the time I reached Burgos, my steps were tiny, each one an effort. The industrial outskirts were endless, grey blocks, cars, asphalt, the stench of city air. After so many days immersed in nature, cities feel hideous. Give me the smell of manure over gas, trash bins, and sewers, any day.

I finally stopped for a poke bowl, heaven after endless tortillas and ham sandwiches, and treated myself to a biscoff cheesecake before collapsing into my rented apartment. Small, clean, cosy, and most importantly: with a double bed, and fresh cotton sheets. No bath, too much to hope for, but it felt like a palace. I showered, rolled around in the sheets, watched a Swedish series called "Halva Malmö består av killar som dumpat mig" which I love, worked a bit, and took the nap of my life.

By evening, I headed out for an açaí bowl I’d been dreaming of. The kind you pay by weight, which means I went all in: açaí, Greek yogurt, banana, strawberries, paçoca, peanut butter, condensed milk. Omg. Bliss. I ate it wandering through town, watching Friday night unfold, terrasses buzzing, a flamenco concert starting in the square, the air humming with weekend energy.

I even considered grabbing a drink just to people-watch, but exhaustion won. Back to the apartment, to enjoy the little luxury I paid 300€ for. Tomorrow, I won’t walk at all. I’ll just be. That thought alone makes me ecstatic. So, goodnight for now. I hope you’ve had a beautiful day too, wherever you are.

With love, Loune.