The one where I broke my toe(nail)

The 3rd day of the pilgrimage consisted of a 28 km walk through wet terrain and prospects of more rain. I was with a small group of students and went at a really great pace, so we reached the midpoint in almost no time at all. For lunch we decided to try some delicious octopus from a town in Galicia that is famous for it.

Photo credit: Anna!

When we started walking again, we faced interspersed rain bouts but made it to kilometer 40 without any problems. The landscapes were beautiful, as usual, and having great company to walk with made the distance seem a bit shorter. Usually by the time we reach the 10 km-left mark, and especially the 5 km mark, we could breathe a sigh of relief knowing we didn't have much left, so when we knew we only had 4 km left, we were all a bit anxious to get to the hostel. Unfortunately, even though we only had 4 km to go for the day, unbelievable hills and another torrential downpour (let's not forget the hail) made it seem like so much more.

After drying off and cleaning up at the hostel, we decided it was time for a much needed massage train to materialize (In case you don't know, a massage train is just a line of people where each person gives a massage to the person in front of them, then you switch directions so that everyone gives and receives a massage). A few of us gathered on the top bed of one of the bunks and somehow in my eagerness to get up the ladder, I stub my toe, hard, on one of the rungs. I squealed in pain and noticed a spot of blood forming on my sock - somehow I had survived 74 km of walking, rain, and hills but managed to break a toe nail while (supposedly) safe and sound in the hostel, way to go Cristina.

The massage train was absolutely wonderful and just what I needed to distract me from the pain in my toe (oh how the smallest appendages can cause so much pain). Not long after, a handful of us were standing around one of the bunks chatting away. As one of my friends begins to climb off the top bunk, his phone falls out of his pocket, perfectly hitting my toe with the broken nail. I immediately yell out and tears well up in my eyes. Multiple people ask me what's wrong but I try to explain between sobs, in English, and don't make any sense until they all give up and one person just hugs me. By the end of this episode I had officially given El Camino de Santiago my blood, sweat, and tears.

I was dreading the 32 km of the following day but was thankful I didn't have more serious injuries like others in the group. After doubling up on socks and loading up on ibuprofen, I figured I could make it work.

*note: at first I figured it was just a broken toe nail, but after taking a good look at it almost a week later and Googling some information, I'm 93% sure my toe is broken. First broken bone in my life!