The Arrival

WOW! What an incredible, fantastic day! I’ve been up for 30+ hours, but strangely enough it hasn’t felt that way.

I’ll start from the beginning of the day so you, as the reader, can capture a portion of the adventure that I had today. This will probably be my most detailed post, because I already consider it to be the most important day. I want to convey that feeling of overcoming fear and navigating in a new and unfamiliar world. Get ready for a long read.

7:00 am. My alarm clock rings for the last time. Today is the day, I thought to myself. I had prepacked my bags last night, so I took them right downstairs and did a quick double check.

In the living room, under the rising sun through the windows, was my cat, laying there clueless that his favorite human was about to leave for the unknown. I gave him one last scratch down the spine and behind the ears. I’m not going to get to do this again for a long time. The thought came to my head. That’s when a lump formed in my throat and I could feel water rising in my eyes.

This pattern continued throughout breakfast. My family had a final breakfast together at Kneader’s, and if you wanna know how sweet, tender and emotional it was for me you can ask my mom.

We finish breakfast. I give my dad one last father-son secret handshake like we’ve always done, then pull out of the driveway with my two sisters and my mom. Dad had to work, so we said goodbye there.

I remember the look on my youngest sister’s face after we hugged at the airport drop-off site. She was shedding tears. Leading up to this voyage, she was always saying she didn’t want me to go. Tears formed in my eyes and I let out a few bittersweet sobs as Mom took a picture of me standing in front of the airport. I’m going to miss my family, how lucky of a son am I to have a family as supportive as this?

With red eyes and a massive lump in my throat, I turned around and walked into the airport, officially leaving the nest.

Boarding the Salt Lake City plane was smooth. Routine. I’d done it before. Missionaries were abound left and right. A reminder of what I gave up in exchange for this personal journey of discovery and growth.

I took my seat in the large Delta airplane due for Paris. A 9 hour connecting flight awaited me. My partner for that flight was a woman out of college and had a good career. Her name was Kylie, and she had been to quite a variety of places herself. It was nice to share that flight with her.

To my surprise, the flight attendants served dinner AND breakfast to all the passengers. That and like 5 cans of ginger ale. I thought it was super cool.

But that airplane ride was also a big back-and-forth battle between fear, courage, excitement, sentiment, dread, and everything in between.

Can I really make it? Pretty soon I’m going to land in a foreign place in a language I don’t understand. Will I have to take a train? When will I know when the right stop is? What if I go to the wrong bus stop? What if I can’t find my connecting flight to Spain in Paris? I haven’t even picked an official hostel to stay at in Bilbao. Are they are full? What if I can’t find a place to stay the night?

All these questions and fears and doubts freely danced around my mind for most of the flight. I was at their mercy. Can I really do this?

Uh, yes, actually. Yes I can. I’m writing this inside of a simple hotel room that cost only €30 for one night! I’d say that’s a pretty good deal. Private locked room, shower, and a TV! That’s roughly $31-35 US dollars. I don’t know the exact conversion rate, so don’t quote me on that.

Before I knew it, the intercom was saying it will soon be time to get off, and that if I had a connecting flight I needed to go through security again. Kylie told me that my 1 hour 45 minute layover might not be enough time. Great.

But I told myself, even if I end up do missing my flight to Bilbao, Spain, I have everything I need to get there. I’ll just take the trains down to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port instead.

That thought brought me comfort, but I was still going to do everything I can to get to my flight in time. The problem was, my ticket didn’t say exactly what gate I was supposed to be at. I figured I would ask an agent at the Paris airport for help.

The moment the plane touched ground, I felt a sense of excitement and adventure come alive. Wow. Paris is very pretty. I’m actually doing this!

I get off the plane, go down the steps to the runway, and board the bus due for terminal 2. We were being brought through security screening again.

We arrive to the terminal and I head right in. To my relief, there was a Delta customer service desk right in front of me! I walk over and ask the worker if he can find what gate I’m supposed to be at.

“No problem,” he says in a French accent. Within seconds he had my gate information pulled up. “Follow the yellow signs to terminal 2G” were his instructions.

I took a picture of that critical information and said “merci”. I felt a rush of excitement and deliberate, intense focus course through me as I urgently wound through the very-well marked corridor. Up stairs, around corners, over bridges, the yellow signs were all there.

Then at last I came to the security line. The long security line. I worried I wouldn’t make it through in time.

Soon, I saw an employee walk down beside the line. I took an opportunity to ask him if there might be any faster way.

That’s when I made my first international friends.

But not the employee. He said this was the only way and walked away. But the older couple next to me turned and said “We were thinking the same thing!” That initiated a conversation with them. I find out they’re from Louisiana and I tell them I’m from Utah. They were very sweet and great people.We compare flights, and find out theirs leaves even earlier than mine. The couple turns to each other and debate about asking permission from someone to cut in front of them. I had also contemplated doing that.

The couple waited for a nice-looking lady who wouldn’t mind the small hassle. They asked if they could cut in front and the lady consented. I watched them duck under the ropes, unsure of whether I should follow or not. Then the man’s backpack got caught underneath the divider strap. I instinctively unhooked the strap on one end and pull it over the backpack. As I stood there, strap in hand, with friends I had made right there in front of me, I simply took a step or two forward, turned around, and slid the divider strap back into it’s rightful place, with me on the other side. I just HAD to take that opportunity that fell right into my hands.

Turns out, I would have made it just fine if I didn’t cut in line. I had plenty of time. But it is an exciting and funny experience that I had today that I thought I would share.

We proceeded to make friends with the people we had cut in front of. These people were from France, and they were very nice. They spoke enough English for us to have conversation. I told them about my journey of discovery and growth and my plan to do the Camino de Santiago.

Before I knew it, I made my way through security and screening looking like a bumbling dimwit. It took the guard like 7 times to say the same thing for me to understand that I needed to take out the toiletries in my bag! But I’m not embarrassed about it one bit. Im proud I stumbled my way through security. I did something uncomfortable and totally new. And now I am more prepared for the next time.

Safely through security, I speed walk through the fancy stops and resting lounge areas to get to my flight. I even saw chess boards plastered onto the tables!

I get to my flight with plenty of time to spare. Victory! It was my first challenge completed. I had arrived at my scheduled flight and didn't get lost! I got a distant view of the famous Eiffel Tower during takeoff as a prize.

On the flight, I get seated next to a sweet old lady, who is a bit on the senile side haha. She was at the final phase of her life, and she didn’t speak a word of English. I enjoyed the opportunity to practice my Spanish with her, but half of what she said didn’t make sense, even in Spanish. The other nearby returning citizens of Spain are smiling and laughing to themselves as I attempt to engage this old woman in conversation. After 30 minutes, I give up and put in my earbuds and listen to some epic instrumental music and bask in the glory of my proper airport navigation skills. It made no difference to the lady. She didn’t seem to notice the earbuds were even there. But she also didn’t notice when I didn’t respond either. Regardless, she was a sweet lady, and she even lent me her soft purse as a pillow for me to use when I was dozing off!

After another hour, the plane descended below the thick cloud line to reveal mesmerizing hills and mountains covered in green trees and carved pathways darting back and forth. The houses were so cool and beautiful!

The plane makes a safe landing. Some of the passengers in front of me start clapping. I join in and so do a few others. Wow, these people aren’t afraid to show appreciation despite possibly being the only ones doing it.

Which I felt has been quite the opposite energy from where I’m from. From my observations, people were so preoccupied with what others thought of them that they were too afraid to do something a little bold, something out of the comfort zone. Generally speaking, I think lots of people have developed the habit of retreating into the comfort zone too often. I think it prevents crucial personal growth. Because it’s easy. Its so easy to do that, and I admit that sometimes instead of preparing for my trip I would retreat back to browse useless YouTube videos just to escape the stressful task of planning this long journey.

But don’t you remember what it feels like to conquer something new and hard? I am certainly fresh off that sense of accomplishment.

Back to the story.

While exiting the plane, this very nice couple that sat behind me on the plane helped get me where I needed to go! They overhead I was doing the Camino de Santiago on the plane and wanted to make sure I didn’t take the wrong bus. They helped me find my way right to the bus station, gave me directions, and then said goodbye! Their kindness won’t be forgotten. I can already hear the alarm bells going off in some of the people following my journey back home. Don’t trust a stranger!

The problem is that mindset prevents every opportunity to meet a kind, local person who is willing to give someone a helping hand. I met so many today which I’ll get to later. Of course, I’m not saying trust EVERYBODY, but from what I’ve read from nomad books and my own experience tells me that most people mean well. I can tell when someone doesn’t have good intentions. I’m cautious and I don’t put myself in any situation of vulnerability.

I showed the bus ticket to the weary-eyed driver. “To the bus station in Bilbao?” I asked in Spanish. He nodded and waited for me to scan my ticket.

The scenery driving by was absolutely incredible and breathtaking. I hope the rest of Spain can compare to this.

I double checked the directions I was given by that nice couple to make sure I wasn’t getting punked. Yup, they were telling the truth! The other locals on the bus said the exact same thing, and wished me luck on my Camino. Seriously, you guys back home have no idea how nice the people were here.

I got off the last bus stop which brought me right to the busy bus station underground. This is where I need to be at 8:00 AM tomorrow if I want to get to Bayonne. Now the only question left was where was I going to spend the night?

I asked workers for information about places I could stay, and they directed me to a tourist info center. They gave me a map and marked a hostel I could go to as a way of cheap accommodation, as I requested.

I emerged from the underground bus station to find myself in a breathtaking new city. It sits in a bowl surrounded by green mountains on all sides, with a river to the north. It’s an absolutely beautiful city.

I made my way to the hostel marked on the map, after spending some time figuring out the address system. I ask if they have any beds for the night and how much they would cost. They said they were full.

The rest of the day had me exploring the city, determined to find a place to stay rather than just sleep at the uncomfortable bus station. I walked all over and met tons of awesome people! I didn’t quite blend in, I was a backpacker holding a unfolded map looking left and right constantly. Several people asked me if I needed help, and gave me some great directions! Thank goodness for my fluency in Spanish. Thanks to Mom for putting me in dual immersion from 2nd grade.

A friend I made while taking shelter from the rain

The US navy guy

The big hurdle was there was something wrong with my international cellular data plan. It would only let me make calls and that’s about it. Nothing to do with the internet or online hostel check-ins. I called my mom and we worked together to try and figured out the solution. She contacted Verizon agents. But it didn’t help.

Fortunately, a lady suggested I get on the Bilbao City WiFi. From there I was finally able to book a stay at with a small place I wanted to stay at called Pensión Arias. I tried to get in earlier but they had no front office or secretary. I stopped one of the customers coming out and asked them how I could get a stay here. He said to look up Pension Arias online and book it there. They should send me a form to fill out and some information about my stay. I was able to start the process online through the city wifi, thankfully. All I needed to do now was to wait for the manager to get back to me.

After buying an umbrella after wandering around the city in fairly heavy rain, I stopped to grab dinner before I headed to retire for the night. I went into a small, humble restaurant with a bar inside it. I don’t think I saw any restaraunts that DIDN’T have a bar besides Burger King. I ordered a nice grilled sandwich with of some sort of chicken meat that I’ve never tried before in it. It was delicious! The server was very friendly. We got into a conversation. The only other people in the business was this small family: a man, a woman, another woman, and a kid. I don’t know exactly who’s related to who, but they were family I can say that much. The server asked me about what I doing in Spain and how long I would be here for. I told him I was doing the Camino de Santiago, and the family in the corner started to pay attention. They asked how old I was and I said I was 18 and traveling solo. The look on their faces was priceless. We spoke some more and I found out that the man served in the US Navy for 14 years. He was wearing a jacket with a Navy seal embroidered on it. It was amazing to exchange stories with these people!

I finally checked into the hostel for the night. Their only option was private rooms, which worked perfectly! I set down my heavy pack and laid on the bed and basked in the feeling of true, independent accomplishment.

My first room

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I did it. I navigated through a new city and found a place to stay. I met locals and learned some new things.

And the best part? I get to do it all again tomorrow. I don’t know where I’m going to stay yet, but now that excites me rather then scares me. I know there’s plenty of places along the entire Camino trail. I’ll be very well off! After seeing what I’m made of, I can’t wait to navigate the challenges that await me tomorrow.