"Che, cousin of Valen, will you walk with us to Luján?"
I'm Micaela C@mino and that's never happened to me before: that I liked a boy so much but so much. In addition to its facade and high spine, it's a good little chaboncito. Almost perfect. A species in extinction in this world of artificial dedicated full-time to the facial arts. I got the card right away: this one is not interested in faces, gestures, poses, smiles and / or emojis. I met him on Valen's birthday: Ramiro, that's his name, is from the pastoral group of the parish where my cousin always goes. And that night when it really dazzled me, everyone was talking about the pilgrimage to Luján. The group of young people from the community was organizing the walk and Ramiro was one of the coordinators. To this day I remember when he stared at me between tender and seductive and said: "Che, cousin of Valen, will you walk with us to Luján? First, I reminded him of my name: Mica. And then, I didn't know what excuse to give him. That I'm a believer but not so much, that I don't do much sport and my physical condition isn't ideal, that at the end of October I might have to study, that... "Let your cousin know if you want to come. We left Morón and not Liniers, in other words, you'll save a good stretch of movida. We had a great time, come". The talk on the subject closed in a "Well, I see". Before leaving the party, my cousin told me that it was 46 kilometers from Morón to Luján. That they left type 9 in the morning, that they were always close to the Sarmiento roads and that strategic stops were made in Moreno, in General Rodríguez and in the roundabout where the Escudo de Luján is. That at each stop there was something to eat and to hydrate. That in addition to praying the Rosary, a car with music accompanied them all the time and that was sung, danced, harengaba and shaken. Ramiro left a while before me and when he said goodbye, he asked me again: "Are we waiting for you? With a smile, I gave him a "Arranquen si no arrgo: por ahí me sumo a last-minute..." (Start if I don't arrive: that's where I join them at the last moment...). What at first in my head was "Ni en pedo" was transformed into "Why not? I looked for it in Instagram and started to follow Ramiro. His stories were full and every now and then something of the pilgrimage went up. Two or three days before October 6th he put in a "I am going... You? I swear I felt it as a direct message to me. With my cousin everything is fine, but I don't have the super confidence. She didn't insist and I wasn't too interested either. Thursday night Ramiro started to follow me in Instagram and even put me a couple of likes. Ready, I go. But I realized that I could not walk almost 50 kilometers and I began to put together my own plan. I have a long journey in trains but not just in Sarmiento: I loved Juan Carlos Google very much once again. As the pastoral group had published the route, the stops and the estimated timetables, the logistics were not so difficult: I decided to take the Sarmiento, reach them at General Rodríguez and make the 15 kilometers (or a little more in reality) walking with them. Bah, with him... Said and done... Train to Moreno. Combination with the one that goes to Mercedes and leaves you at General Rodríguez station, after passing through La Reja, Francisco Álvarez, Pablo Marín and Las Malvinas. I studied the route as if I was going to take an exam. And except for the crowded trip between Moreno/General Rodriguez, everything went well. Before 5 o'clock I was on the avenue parallel to the tracks and I even found the CNG sign that I had as a reference. I made time there, paid the 15 pesos to use the bathroom of a house (that was more or less the "sanitary" rate throughout the pilgrimage) and began to discover the searches of the pilgrim world. Since on that Saturday the walkers parade 24 hours a day, there is a whole universe by the side of the road. It sells everything from anti-inflammatory atoms to improvised canes for those who can no longer support their feet, passing through templates for shoes quite trout. Three bananas, 30 pesos (a lot of potassium is consumed). Speed-type energy drinks: 25 pesos. While I was waiting for the group I was interested in, I couldn't get out of the smoke: the bondiolite and the vacuum were rage, and with very different prices between puestito and puestito. Before the doubt invaded me as to whether I was doing the right thing, among the passing crowd I distinguished the orange t-shirts of the group. And in the middle, with a jean cap, he: my favorite pilgrim. I crouched on one side, waited for the whole platoon to pass and followed them a few meters. Justo Valen walked next to Rami: they were singing "Un poquito", by Carlos Vives and Diego Torres. "It's not fashionable to fall in love / Nobody wants to be sincere anymore / But in you I find everything, everything, everything I want...". I joined forces, persecuted myself, and unexpectedly slipped into their midst: "I am Micaela C@mino and that's why I'm a pilgrim...". Hug and kiss for each one. Triumphal apparition. Sincere smiles. Golazo. Point for Mica... I walked to Luján next to them, closer to him than to her. We prayed the Rosary when we had to pray, we made a bard to recharge our batteries and I talked about one and a thousand things with Ramiro. I drew her that I had to study at night, that's why I went out later, that going alone I walked faster and all the sarasas together. Pious little lie: Mary, the Virgin, I was going to know how to understand. As coordinator, Rami was permanently close to the cart with lights and music. Every now and then she would grab the microphone and encourage the rest of the kids and the not so kids: among the group of walkers, there was a 70-year-old lady who was taken to the Basilica. I almost died of love when Rami asked for applause for me, for having encouraged me. The mate cocido Andresito came very well in the roundabout of Escudo: at that height of the walk and at that hour of the night (22.30), a warm infusion turned out to be ideal to fight the cold. Precisely because of the cold, added to the fact that the blisters on your feet already make you walk like a zombie, the last kilometers were embraced to Ramiro. When I saw the dome of the Basilica appear between the buildings, I was so moved that I started crying like an asshole. I swear, I couldn't stop: it was a waterfall of tears that increased when Father Rodrigo said "You can't reach Luján with your feet: you can reach it with your heart". Ramiro hugged me tightly and gave me a long kiss on my forehead, one of those given to friends and loved ones. I felt great to be there, contained. I felt bad about the shampoo I made on my previous invented walk. I felt like going on pilgrimage again next year. When we entered the Basilica with the last effort, I set the time: it was 0.04 on Sunday. I looked at the altar and asked Our Lady not to let go of my hand. And that Ramiro, since he was there, wouldn't do it either.