Someday has come!

In the evening doubt strikes. Perhaps it's because I feel so excluded. Because there was no place at the nice long table. Conversations in French. Am I going to be able to do this? Walking so much every day. Always looking for a new place to sleep. Am I going to manage being away from home for so long? What am I doing to myself?
'Go and enjoy your adventure, Mum!'I can still hear my son, saying it on the morning I left. If I try hard, I can feel his long arms around me again. I let out a sigh. No, giving up isn't an option. Another 1584 kilometres to go. I'm making progress already.

I stand still, literally and figuratively. My gaze rests on the natural beauty spread out like a fan before me. Small purple flowers sway gently in the breeze. I'm struck by how extraordinary it is to be making this journey; how much space I feel, around me and within myself. How little there suddenly is to worry about.

Where has the serene calm I've experienced along the way gone? Why can't I manage it today? I'm so fed up of it, so utterly fed up!
Trudging alongside the rushing traffic my rucksack feels heavier than usual, the sun more merciless than before, my feet more painful than yesterday. It feels as though the universe is bringing me down to earth with a bump: go on then, have a hard time of it, and don't think everything will run smoothly from now on just because of this pilgrimage.