Meeting the Devil

Muslims will cast seven stones at the devil at the end of Ihram.  I cast seven stones at the devil at the end of the Camino, almost at the end - not at the Cathedral, but at the top of Monjoi, or Mount Gozo: a hill outside of Santiago de Compostela from which pilgrims glimpse Santiago (and they say, Cathedral; this, however, does not agree with what I saw, and I really did try to find that place from which it would be possible to see the Cathedral.  Fruitlessly.), awaiting them.  Mount of (Pilgrims') Joy.
I cast seven stones for seven of us: myself and my closest beloved.  Devil, eat the dust and go to hell.  I made it, even though you tried your best to stop me.  And I carried those stones to cast on you all the way from Foncebadon.

My entries for September 27, 2003:

Left Puente la Reina at about 7:50 a.m.  Hell in Estella.  Hell of a hostel. Really a hell.  Puente la Reina to Estella with all those detours was really 26-28km, not 19!  I hate it here.  Someone put something sticky on my sleeping bag.  I slept next to a husband of a French woman who slept over me in the bunk bed.  Yuck.  The guy kept running, wearing only his skimpy underwear, to the bathroom, and I "slept" next to it.  The door opened onto my face.  God, this thing happening to my feet is NOT normal.  Cannot be.  I am pretty fit, and with the backpack I am faster than most on the Camino, but no one has such problems as I do.  I cannot walk anymore! I walked 5 days, rested 3, I cannot walk! God! Do something!  Please!

That was the day you introduced yourself to me.  My little private personal devil.  You followed me, and on the way to Estella I felt I would meet you face to face.  I resisted.  I was afraid.  I cursed the Way.  I cursed my feet.  I cursed the city I was walking towards on that day.  I did not want to get there at all. And the moment I walked in from the countryside, and inhaled the offending scent of the beer prep, I saw the slum apartments by the river, I cursed that city, that awful city where I was meant to meet you.
Then, by the water fountain set up for pilgrims - like everywhere else along the Way - you came for the first encounter, in a face of a young man.  You were there to see me through his eyes that were your eyes right then for a moment, to see if I see you, and how do I notice you, and how do I react. Oh, you almost stopped me, you almost made me do what you wanted me to do.  But I did notice, and I realized who you were, who you are.  I walked on, and you waited for me.  There, in Estella, you did all you could to stop me, to show, to prove to me you are the master in this relationship.
I dreaded the night, and when it came, you came with it.  You spent the night at my side in me in my soul in my brain in my heart there beside me on my bed nest to the toilets at a hostel in Estella.  It was a night of our battle, and I got to know who you are, and now I am no longer afraid of you, my own little Devil.  Now I know you, and the fear is gone.