Camino De Limon: 47 Days on the Way of St. James

By April Capil

Diagnosed with stage three triple negative breast cancer at 34, doctors told April Capil she had a 1 in 3 chance of getting to 40 without a recurrence. Intent on making her next 6 years count, Capil embarked on a "40-by-40" bucket list, which included running the NYC Marathon, skydiving in Colorado, kayaking the Main Salmon, rock-climbing in Moab, seeing an Oprah show, going on a chocolate tour of Paris, swimming with dolphins, learning how to figure skate, publishing a book, and climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, among other things. Capil not only checked off everything on the list; she is still cancer-free ten years later.

In April of 2018, Capil decided to pack her bags, hire a house sitter, and get on a plane to tackle an even bigger adventure: walking the Camino Santiago in Northern Spain. "Camino de Limon" is her personal diary of 47 days walking the Camino Frances solo, with photos and stories of the pilgrims she met on "The Way."

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Capil
• Release date: Jul 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463554258

April Capil

April Capil is a breast cancer survivor and author. She holds a Green M.B.A. in Sustainable Enterprise and lives in Northern California.April has been a guest speaker at the First Descents Annual Gala (2010), the Life Beyond Cancer Conference (2011), the OMG Summit for Young Adult Cancer Survivors (2013, 2014), and the Conference For Young Women (2014).

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Day 1: St. Jean Pied De Port

April 12, 2018

Total Kilometers Logged: n/a

Accommodation: Buen Camino B + B (2 nights)

Notable Stops: Pilgrim's Office, St. Jean Pied de Port

Today was a heck of a day.

Everything – the flight from Denver to Atlanta to Paris, the bus from CDG to Gare Montparnasse, and the TGV trail to Bordeaux – had been tiring but predictable… until I got off my TGV train in Bordeaux.

I didn’t see my connecting train to Bayonne on any monitors, so I went to Information with my broken high school French, where a woman told me my train ticket was actually a bus ticket, despite this making absolutely no sense.

As my departure time grew closer, I got more and more panicked because none of the buses said Bayonne either. Finally, a guy in a maintenance vest said that yes, a bus going to a town called Dax was actually the bus I needed to get to Bayonne. I got on the bus along with a ton of people - none of whom looked like peregrinos, which was slightly alarming - and was not entirely sure I was even going to the right place. Two hours in, we had not even reached Dax, and I was realizing I was probably (definitely) going to miss my connecting train from Bayonne to St. Jean Pied de Port (SJPDP), which is where the Camino Frances starts.

Trying not to cry from exhaustion and frustration, I was explaining my situation to the man next to me in high school French, and a woman across the aisle overheard us and said the magic words, Oui, moi aussi! (Yes, me too!). After talking to her in Frenglish for a bit, I gathered that 1) no one knew why our train to Bayonne had been canceled, 2) there were no more trains to SJPDP after the one we missed, meaning we’d have to catch another bus in an hour that wouldn’t get us into town until at least 8:00 pm, and 3) she was going to ask the station chief at Bayonne WTF kind of circus they were running here.

When we arrived at Bayonne, the woman said her name was Anita and motioned for me to come with her. We went to the Station Chief’s office and Anita politely chewed him out expressed her frustration with the situation, then proceeded to negotiate a free taxi to SJPDP for both of us! My favorite moment came ten minutes later, when the taxi had still not arrived and she turned to the Chief and said, Bien, alors? (which actually sounded like French for, So… where the f*ck is our taxi?).

The taxi eventually came and during the 45-minute ride to SJPDP, Anita patiently helped me practice my French and shared that she was an attorney (those negotiation skills!) and was going to SJPDP to visit her father, who was a retired police sergeant in his nineties. When they dropped me off in the center of town, I was overcome with Anita’s kindness to a complete stranger and started to tear up. She very sweetly dismissed both my tears and her generosity with a typical French pfft! then waved to me as the taxi drove away, calling out, Buen Camino!

I walked straight up to the Pilgrim’s Office from downtown, got my credential, and splurged on a small private room at a bed and breakfast so I could get some solid sleep. I’ve had a pretty bad sore throat ever since I left Denver but am hoping it will get better if I take another day in SJPDP to rest up before starting the Camino.

The sign for the bus to Bayonne. Crystal clear, right?

The sign for the bus to Bayonne. Crystal clear, right?

At least St. Jean Pied de Port was beautiful when I got there!

At least St. Jean Pied de Port was beautiful when I got there!

Day 2: St. Jean Pied De Port (2)

April 13, 2018

Total Kilometers Logged: n/a

Accommodation: Buen Camino B + B (2 nights)

Notable Stops: Boutique du Pèlerin, Café Le Kawa, Comptoir Basque Epicerie Gourmande, Restaurant Cidrerie Hurrup Eta Klik

I think today was a lesson in taking my time and forcing myself to not be in a particular hurry to get anywhere or do anything (what a luxury!).

I’m not sure if this is typical on the Camino, but the albergue (hostel) I booked closes from 8:00 am to 3:00 pm - as in, au revoir, door locked, come back in 7 hours. I was able to leave my backpack there, but after walking around most of St. Jean Pied de Port for what seemed like forever, I had only killed 45 minutes and all the shops and restaurants were still closed! I took a stranger’s advice and walked up to the Citadel to take a panorama of the town, and it was worth it. The fog was dissipating and even though it had rained and there was nowhere dry to sit, I couldn't help but enjoy the moment – a minute of calm and excitement and relief that I was finally here, in St. Jean Pied de Port. How many things had to happen, how much had to go right, for me to be looking out over this valley? It felt like a crazy dream.

Here are a few things I did to kill 6 hours in SJPDP:

Went to a pharmacy for cough drops

Used the WiFi at the Pilgrim’s Office

Had a café au lait and a slice of Gateau Basque

Bought a Veritable Beret Basque for when I meet Jayna in Paris

Bought some sel Basque and authentic Spanish Paprika at an AMAZING spice shop I could have spent two hours in, if only I didn't have to carry all my purchases over the Pyrenees

Had a bowl of veggie soup and met another Pilgrim tin St. Jean on his way to Roncesvalles

Read the Dintaman-Landis Guide to the Camino on my iPhone

Tomorrow, I will officially start my Camino! I'll be taking the Valcarlos Route (through the valley), since there is still quite a bit of snow on the Napoleon Route (over the Pyrenees).

Pano from the Citadel

Pano from the Citadel

A river runs through St. Jean Pied de Port

A river runs through St. Jean Pied de Port

Rows and rows of gorgeous spices!

Rows and rows of gorgeous spices!

Day 3: Roncesvalles (Roncevaux)

April 14, 2018

Total Kilometers Logged: 25.15

Accommodation: Roncesvalles Municipal Albergue

Notable Stops: Ardandegia Reastaurante y Supermercado, Valcarlos

I think I found Jesus today.

I took the Valcarlos Route to Roncesvalles from St. Jean Pied de Port for today’s leg of the Camino, which is a little over 15 miles. It’s supposed to be the easy route. What they don’t tell you is, you still have to climb over the Pyrenees.

Meaning, my Fitbit logged 255 floors and 36,528 steps today.

What do I mean when I say I found Jesus today?

Imagine the worst hike you’ve ever been on, only for the entire second half, you have no idea how much farther there is to go, and for 79 switchbacks you keep telling yourself, this HAS to be the last uphill, but you’re wrong. 79 times. So wrong that you start saying the 23rd Psalm over and over in a futile attempt to recruit the Holy Trinity to please make these switchbacks end FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY.

Also, you run out of water 2 kilometers before you even get to the downhill (thankfully, there actually was a downhill), and actually, you’re praying it’s only two kilometers because that’s what the guy with the map said, and he must have been right, right? Because he had a map? .

That was my day today. Before you read on, just know that I’m okay. Nothing a little Advil and electrolytes won’t help.

I woke up bright and early, hitting the Camino just after 7:30 am. The walk from SJPDP to Valcarlos was tough but not too bad - part rolling farmland, part walk up to the NCAR parking lot (in Boulder, for the non-CO folks). A little over a 10k, but the last two miles were all uphill.

When I got to Valcarlos, I was a little pooped from the hill, but I had an amazing ham and egg omelet bocadillo (baguette sandwich) and a mojito-flavored 7UP (yes, lime-mint 7UP exists here!). Filled with Spanish ham and American soda, I felt energized and optimistic. I pulled on my pack and thought, I totally have another 7 miles in me! I’m a Coloradoan! I survived cancer! I can do this! I made friends with some fellow pilgrims at a nearby table and we headed out together.

For three miles, it was highway bike lanes and babbling brooks, so sunny and beautiful and charming that I didn't notice WE HAD STARTED TO DESCEND BACK INTO THE VALLEY. Also, I didn't realize that I had totally done the math wrong (did you catch that?). We didn’t have 4 miles to go - we had SIX. And what I also didn’t know was, those six miles are all uphill except the last kilometer and a half.

St. Jean Pied de Port’s elevation at departure is 594 ft. Valcarlos is at 1198f t, but you descend slightly after Valcarlos to walk along the river that passes through the valley, so you can avoid the main highway. The highest point on the Valcarlos route, Puerto de Ibaneta, is at 3468 ft.

Add to this the fact that, because I was unaware I'd done the math wrong, I was being super liberal with my water, and was so glad to be with new friends that I didn't realize I hadn’t peed all day. By the time I hit the never-ending switchbacks, I had completely sweated through my wool blend undershirt and was fading fast from heat and thirst (if I made a mistake this big in Colorado or Utah, I’d be dead).

Thankfully, the Camino provided. Long after I had slowed down to let one of my companions pass me and lost three others to the steep grade, I finally reached a farmhouse at the crest of a hill. I sighed with relief, only to realize it was abandoned, at which