MIJE Archives - Nadine Walks

As I was driving out of the park yesterday, I saw two little fox cubs playing on the side of the road. I’d just finished a 7-mile hike and I was feeling good; I started off slowly, weighed down by the humid air and hot sunshine, but soon found a rhythm and was marching along with strong legs and solid steps. Lately, my hikes have been good, almost the kind of good that I felt when I was on the Camino last year.

And then I saw the fox cubs. At first I wasn’t sure what they were- whether it was one animal or two, whether it was a large cat or a dog with an orange coat, or some other animal all together. I pulled up alongside the cubs and slowed my car to a stop. One of the foxes ran off into the grass, but the other just sat there, staring at me.

“What are you doing, Little Foxy?” I asked.

He seemed to tilt his head a bit, as if he were listening.

“You’d better move off the road, it’s dangerous for you here.”

I probably would have kept talking to him but I noticed that there were a few cars lined up behind me- but they, too, were peering out the window at the small foxes.

A fox sighting is always a little thrilling to me, and seeing two fox cubs felt really special. It felt like a good omen.

I’ve gotten several good omens lately, and it makes me think of last summer, and my moments of “Camino magic”. On the Camino, good omens or moments of magic seem to happen all of the time, and by the end of my walk I truly believed that wonderful things not only happen on the Camino, but they happen a lot on the Camino.

Losing sight of Camino magic back in the real world is a common thing. We usually don’t call it ‘magic’ here, I’m not sure what we call it. Good omens, perhaps. Luck. Coincidence. Signs from God. Or sometimes we might not call it anything at all because we don’t notice it: too much routine and task and obligation get in the way of the tiny magical moments that are still probably happening every day. Or could be happening, if we open ourselves to the possibility.

Lately I’ve wondered if my ‘good omens’ have anything to do with my approaching Camino. Knowing that another Camino is close has put me in the “Camino frame of mind”; is it possible that this slight shift in attitude is helping to bring good things to me, or helping me notice the beautiful things around me? Sometimes I think of these magic moments or good omens as signposts, indicators that I’m moving in the right direction. As if the little foxes were there to acknowledge my strong hike. “We like it out here, too,” they seemed to be saying.

Several weeks ago I was hiking in the same park and stopped by a picnic area to use the bathroom. Balanced on the very top of the corner bathroom stall was a book- it caught my eye right away because I usually don’t see anyone or anything in the park bathrooms. So I picked up the book and looked at its cover: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield (the book’s subtitle is: ‘Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles). I’ve heard about this book a lot, especially in the last few years and especially as I’ve been focusing on my writing. I flipped open the book at random and saw the words ‘Resistance and Fear’, things that I’ve been thinking about a lot in this past year. After I left the bathroom and looked around the deserted picnic area, I stashed the book in my pack. Maybe the owner would come back to look for it, or maybe not. In any case, it sort of felt like that book had been placed in my path.

You might remember my last post, the one I wrote a few weeks ago about not being able to get a reservation in my favorite Parisian hostel, the MIJE. I wondered where I would stay, I wondered how a different ‘home base’ would change my experience of Paris. When I woke up the next morning and checked my email, there was a message from the MIJE. “Thank you for the kind words in your post,” they said. “When do you need to stay in Paris?”

So I’ll be staying at the MIJE this summer after all- in a shared room but if a single opens up, my name is on the waiting list. How is it possible that this even happened? It all feels a little magical; even though I know how easily information can be shared these days, it feels improbable and unlikely that anyone from the MIJE would have seen or read my post, and taken the time to write to me. I was already a huge fan of their hostels, but now they have me for life (luckily, even though they are youth hostels, there is no age limit. So the MIJE is stuck with me for years to come!).

And this, too, feels a bit like a message. Keep traveling. Get to know places. Settle in. Come back, again and again.

So I think that these are some of my yellow arrows. On the Camino the yellow arrow is a signpost, the symbol that directs you towards Santiago, and they are everywhere. At home, they are much harder to see. But suddenly I feel like they’re all around me, and it makes me want to keep my eyes open for more.

There are a lot of reasons that I love Paris, and one is that I always know where I’m going to stay when I’m there (plus I love the fact that I can say ‘when I’m there’, as if I go to Paris all the time… which lately has been true. Using Paris as my arrival/departure city for the Camino has it’s perks! Mostly, it’s that I can spend a few days in Paris pre or post trip, because otherwise Paris is rather far from the starting point of most Camino routes… unless I start walking from Paris… which is possible… but I digress).

I stay in a place called Le MIJE, a network of hostels in the Marais district of Paris. The hostels are in renovated 17th century mansions, breakfast is included in the price (which runs from around 30 euros for a shared room to around 55 euros for a single), and the location is, in my mind, perfect. Two summers ago, I stayed in a single room in Hotel Maubisson, and when I opened my window and sat on the very corner of my bed, I could see the spires of Notre Dame. And then I could exit the hostel and be standing in front of Notre Dame in under 5 minutes.

I first stayed at the MIJE back in the fall of 2000, during my college year abroad. So my affection for these hostels stems from great nostalgia: that very first trip to Paris, sharing a room with 5 of my friends, nights racing through the streets of Paris to make the hostel’s 1am curfew, a spiral staircase that led up to my bed, the heavy red curtains, playing UNO late into the night, endless café crèmes and large hunks of bread for breakfast.

It became my go-to place for future Parisian travels that year: when I was a day early to meet my family, when I spent Easter in Paris with my best friend. And, more recently, on my summer trips in Europe: after my writer’s retreat in southern France, the night before I flew back home after my Camino last year.

So naturally, I tried to book a room at the MIJE following my second Camino this summer, when I’ll have two nights in Paris before I return home. But when I tried to make a reservation, I was told that the hostels were full, that no rooms were available.

And I’m at a complete loss. It’s possible that I’ve tried to book too early, I remember something about a 30-day or 45-day or 60-day policy on making reservations, and I can also get more clarification by actually picking up the phone and making a call, rather than using an online reservation form. So I’m not ruling the MIJE out, not yet.

But it leaves me to consider what it would be like to stay in Paris in some place other than the MIJE- with its uneven stairs, squares of pink toilet paper, scratchy red blankets, lukewarm café crèmes. It’s only a hostel, and I’m sure it’s not even the best by most measures and yet… it’s special to me. It’s like this little safe haven, a small place in a large city where I feel secure and comfortable. The three hostels are located close to each other, and I know the neighborhoods around them. I know the closest metro stops, I know the closest Monoprix where I can buy groceries, I know my favorite café where I can sit outside and drink a coffee or a glass of wine and watch people walk by.

I think it’s also that I love that I can say this about a place in Paris, that I can say this about a place in any city, anywhere in the world. Because I don’t have this anywhere else. I’ve lived outside of Philadelphia for 11 years and except for the art museum, I’m not intimately familiar with any part of the city. There’s not a city in the world that I know as well as Paris (although I’m by no means an expert), but this familiarity relies upon being able to return to the places and streets that I can find without a map. I wonder what I will make of Paris if I need to sleep in a hotel or hostel in a different arrondissement. Will it feel like my Paris? Will it change my connection to the city? Will it encourage me to expand my knowledge of the city, to explore different corners, to form new memories and traditions?

It’s a little funny that this is what I’m focused on, as my second Camino approaches. Not the path of el Norte, not whether I have all of my gear or how heavy my pack will be, not whether I need to book a room in Irun or at the end of my walk in Santiago… but my last days in Paris. Maybe it’s because, after my Camino experience last year, I am prepared to embrace the ‘not knowing’ aspect of a Camino. I learned that I don’t actually need a guidebook, I don’t need to have any reservations, I don’t need to have my daily stages planned out. I can just walk, and figure it out as I go.

So maybe I should embrace this same attitude with my days in Paris. I’ll make a reservation somewhere, but I want to try to trust that wherever I stay is where I should be (but I’m still hoping that the MIJE comes through!!).

Camino Magic in the Real World; Continuing to Follow the Yellow Arrows

Sleepless in Paris

Inspiration

Camino Packing List