Day Zero: Leaving my family behind

On January the 14th the day had finally come. I had packed all my stuff into my backpack and was ready to set sights on Sevilla. My mother drove me to the airport and waved a final goodbye as I went through the security at the airport. It had been a difficult goodbye, more so for my mother than for me, at least at that time. I had planned this trip for a while and knew that it will always be hard to say goodbye to your loved ones even though you will see them soon enough. My own anxiety didn't kick in before my layover in Madrid. I suddenly realized how far away I was from everyone I knew and started to contemplate if this actually was what I wanted. My habit of shying away from situations I didn't like became more apparent, and this was probably the closest I came to not completing the trip. The year before I had dropped out of the Norwegian military after only a couple of days there, and I knew that I was able to find an excuse to not go through with my plans. Luckily I hopped on the plane to Sevilla with a mixture of Spanish business men and women, and some drunk tourists. 

My anxiety was still bothering me when I landed in Sevilla, but when I took a taxi to the city centre and got to talk Spanish, everything seemed more doable. One of my fears before the trip was my Spanish skills and if they had held up, after not talking Spanish for over half a year. The conversation with the taxi driver was fluid and he was impressed with my Spanish skills. I asked him about the weather, and I was delighted with his answer, it was a warm year, and there should be no problem walking the camino. 

I had booked a hotel, as I arrived late, and wanted a good nights sleep so that I had a lot of energy the first day. I left my stuff at the hotel and went for a walk around the city, and to get some food from the local supermarket. After finishing one of the more expensive meals of the trip, I went to sleep. 

A 'not so legal' photo inside the cathedral