Prolog
Many friends and acquaintances asked me why I don’t have a blog or something like that so they could follow me and my journey.
Well I thought better late than never. I’m sorry for the delay but at least it was hard to find the time and muse for that.
I hope you can enjoy my story and please forgive me that maybe sometimes I’m not at schedule.
Now please relax and enjoy the journey…
How the journey began
It was once upon a time in December 1981…
Oh sorry. That may be a bit too far-fetched.
I guess we should forward a bit…
As it is in life like that, every reaction to an action follows.
It was in the late summer of 2016 when I’ve got the feeling I need to break out of my life to go on a journey.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got a good life so far and I really appreciated it. I was a full-time musician lived in a little detached house which was owned by my parents and had a lot of stuff I didn’t really needed.
I’m just an ordinary guy with a lot of humour, self-irony, the love to music, books and a little obsession for movies.
So far so good… Why did I got this feeling I needed to break out of my life? I guess you might think so. I felt in love… or better I thought I did.
At least it didn’t worked and not the first time in my life I’ve got the feeling I needed to break out to get time for myself to find back to myself.
I needed a journey. An adventure. It always helped me to think while I’m walking and I’ve heard a few years ago of this amazing big walk through the north of Spain called “Camino de Santiago” or how we call it in Germany “Jacobs Weg”… I know – again one of these clever translations in German. When you’re a movie fan you stumble about them all the time. Anyway…
The “Way” was calling for me and I followed.
Within six weeks I’ve organised my flight, my travel luggage and of cause (very important) my hiking boots.
By the way a big thank you to my friends Lisa & Peter who lent me some of their camino equipment.
Than the big day came… ready to take of.
That was a weird cocktail of feelings.
I was excited, scared (of the flight), still lost, happy, nervous and inpatient…
The fist step on my journey was the flight from Hamburg (Germany) to Paris (France) where I should get my night train to Bayonne in the south-west of France 4 hours after landing time.
What I didn’t knew so far, was that three days ago someone special started her camino at the bottom of the french Pyrenees…