off the map
- Haylie Butler
- Feb 15, 2018
- 2 min read
"Haylie, turn up the music!"
My five friends and I ride along the picturesque Galician countryside on the way from Santiago de Compostela to the tiny pueblo of Lago de Carucedo where we will be spending our weekend.
I crank up my early 2000s Spotify playlist to max volume as we sing along to some JT and Kelly Clarkson. Laughter fills the car and for the first time in...well...some time, I feel completely at ease—the Spanish ~no pasa nada~ attitude seeming much more attainable than usual.
I think of road trips when I was younger, playing the ABC game with my sister and complaining about how to pass the time once our selected DVDs had run their course. Yet on this journey, I sit still, completely mesmerized by the beauty that passes too quickly outside my window. Green hills, the famous grape vines of the Ribera del Duero wine region, determined pilgrims making their way along the Camino de Santiago, and a setting orange sun that seems to set the sky on fire.
“Wow, I live here.”
I think after five months, it’s finally become something I not only say, but feel.
“I live here.”
Our little gallego family of six rides along the winding country roads until we reach our final destination: the small secluded pueblo of Lago de Carucedo which has now probably gone from a population of ~15 to 21 for the weekend.
“Bienvenidos, chicos!” An older woman exits her house to greet us as soon as we roll in to “town” with our large 7 passenger van. She makes us feel welcome, she makes us feel at home.
And as I walk out onto the terrace of our quaint Airbnb the next morning to see four of my friends huddled together with coffees in hand, taking in the stunning view of mountains, I really do feel at home. Off the map.
Abrazos,
Haylie
