Along the way I jettisoned two pair of jeans, my tent, numerous books and my cooking gear. Being too cheap to simply abandon this stuff, I mailed it off to an address I had lived at the previous year in Madrid. But, when I finally made it back to Madrid before flying back to the States, I learned that my packages had not been delivered (the occupants were not home to receive them) and all my stuff went to the dead letter office in the bowels of the main Correos Building in Madrid. My journey through the Spanish postal beauracracy to retrieve my belonging was almost as difficult as the Camino itself- but I ultimately did get my stuff back, and I think my story of having been on the Camino impressed enough prideful Spanish postal workers to help me out.