Starting in 2002, Carol and I began planning an ambitious trip, walking the 500 miles of the Camino de Santiago from St. Jean Pied de Port in France to Santiago de Compostela. Carol had read several books, Paulo Coelho from Brazil wrote "El Peregrino" (pilgrim) which she read in Spanish, as well as Shirley MacLaine's "The Camino." I'm up for any trip and we began some serious walking up to 15 miles on weekend days. Eventually, we added books and weight to backpacks to better get a feeling for what that would be like and to get in better shape. Since we were 63 years old we needed all the preparation we could get.
Events prevented us from going in 2003, but in 2004 we began our quest to do the 500 miles in 30 days. We met both goals and the letters below represent that journey.
They read top down
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Lucas and the king's grandson
Greetings to all from sometimes sunny Spain.
All is well and we are on the Camino, but first a little background. We Arrived on Thursday and spent a little time with our friends Ellen and Miguel Martin who used to live in Lodi. We had a great two days. I went to pick up the Kids from school with Ellen and there was Lucas their one and a half year old boy playing with another kid who turned out to be the king´s grandson. The royal family is known for their common touch and rather than just put their child in some exclusive day care facility, they opted for a good one but one where there was little elitism. So Lucas runs, chases and generally has a good time with Christina, the second daughter of king Juan Carlos and another child who turns out to be the heir to the Fresenet Wine kingdom, not bad company to giggle and swap toys with, eh?
Things started out a little disastrous, Jim forgot his walking shoes. Yes, he´s still Jim. Then the train to Pamplona was totally full, so we had to punt a little. Ellen knew of a good store with lots of outdoor stuff, and I was able to get a pair of shoes that really didn´t need to be broken in, since rule number 1 is never start the Camino with new shoes.
On the second matter, we rented a car, expensive, but our only option since it was a three day holiday and that´s why all trains were totally full. We got to Pamplona and tried to turn the car in, but the agency was closed. But to our rescue came paxti (pronounced Potsy) who found out the rules for us, took us to the rental agency, found where we could leave the car, found us a taxi to Roncesvalles/St. Jean pied de port and we were off and running, so to speak.
All the way I was agonizing as to whether to go to SJPP or Roncesvalles. Weather reports were bad for the Pyrenees and that could turn the 10 hour hike into a 14 to 16 hour day. But to start in Roncesvalles meant not being able to start where we had always hoped to. It was miserable for me. I don´t know why I have this need to continually try to prove myself to myself. I don´t care what anybody else thinks, but I do care what I think about myself. I didn´t want to wimp out and feel that I avoided that first day with its 4000 foot climb in the first ten miles. But it was really the most practical thing to do, so I´m driving myself nuts deciding. Carol is no help. She of the: "Whatever is meant to happen will happen" school is no help to my angst.
Thirty five years ago before Carol and I got together, a woman who was planning to marry me, wanted to see the pictures of my first wedding pictures. That was a very difficult thing for me to relive all that pain and sorrow. But after a lot of resistance I relented, and just as I was opening the album, a song by Harry Nilsson "Everybody´s Talkin" came on the radio.
He sang, "I´m goin where the sun keeps shining through the pouring rain....... and I realized that I wasn’t in that painful place anymore and I could look at the pictures and it didn´t bother me at all.
So.... here we are driving to the start of the Camino and the driver won´t go any farther of than Roncesvalles. I´m trying to figure out what to do, and on Spanish radio, what comes on but Harry Nilsson singing, you got it, "everybody´s talking."
So my spirits were just telling me to take it as it came and stop fighting what I could not change. So it was Roncesvalles, the place in Ancient literature the "Song of Roland" who as Charlemagne´s trusted lieutenant was ambushed and killed a thousand years or so ago.
The refugio is a 12th century monetary and it was such a great place to sleep for that first night before starting off.
Germans, French, Canadians, Italians, some Yanks, Brits, Irishmen, and others of whom I have not a clue bunking in a communal dorm starting this great `pilgrimage of 500 miles.
Our packs are too heavy, but our spirits are light and it has been a beautiful and wonderful first two days. Each day is a journey in itself. We see each day as an event, part of the whole, but totally separate with its own reality and influences.
Yesterday was 14.1 miles of very tough going. The Camino is so varied in structure. Sometimes the Camino is wide and smooth; sometimes it is narrow, rough and very difficult to traverse. Sometimes it is a joy to look around because it is so easy, and sometime we walk with our heads down, one step at a time or we´ll fall down and go boom.
We went up and down, and up and down, repeating the cycle over and over again. The guide says that it should take 6-7 hours and we made it in 5 and 1/2, so we were pleased with our pace. We went straight through without stopping for food or rest, running mostly on adrenaline, probably. We´ve waited so long for this day and to finally be able to begin was exhilarating. The scenery was beautiful mountain greenery, very bucolic: horses, sheep, goats, cattle all blending into a general picture.
Today was totally different. More level, and the ups and downs less severe. However, Carol´s knee gave out and it became very difficult for her to continue. So we decided that I should go ahead, leave my backpack someplace and come back and carry hers to lighten the load. I trucked, I mean I almost trotted the five miles to the next town where I found a church and could leave my pack. I returned fearing the worst, "Did she stop and is waiting for me?" "Will she have to abandon the Camino?" “Will she have to take a taxi to the next town and rest for a day?" In fact, She´s fine. I´m totally wasted. An amazing woman my wife and best friend. I should know better than to ever underestimate her strength, both physical and spiritual. After all, she´s stuck with me for 26 years:-)
Í got back about a mile and there she is coming over a rise. "What in the hell are you doing?" was the only thing I could think of saying. "Walking the Camino," she said simply. I was shocked that she had gotten that far. Her knee hurts on the downhill portion, but otherwise she´s fine and has total confidence in her ability to continue and complete our odyssey. We´re going to get walking sticks tonight and that should diminish the shock to the knee on the downhill parts.
On both days we found a little village/hamlet every 2-3 miles. Wonderful places where time warps backward and houses and barns and pastures are changed little. The cars, satellite dishes, and kid’s bikes out front belie the antiquity of the picture, but it´s still a great scene.
So here we are back in Pamplona that wonderful heart of Basque Spain. 28 miles of our 483 miles completed. (Down from the original 500 because we started one stage later than planned). Loving our trip, happy to be on our way, aware of the difficulties which lurk out there, but confident that our spirits will find a way to show us how to get where we’re trying to go.
Well, this is just a rough start trying to express what at this point is hard to coalesce, and Carol is waiting for me. We´re off to the post office to mail to Ellen pound and pounds of material once thought of as essential, but now just seems like extra pounds which wear us down and out.
We await tomorrow with confidence and expectation that only wonderful things await us.
More to follow as time allows. We hope that each of you is as happy and well as we are.
Jim and Carol
All is well and we are on the Camino, but first a little background. We Arrived on Thursday and spent a little time with our friends Ellen and Miguel Martin who used to live in Lodi. We had a great two days. I went to pick up the Kids from school with Ellen and there was Lucas their one and a half year old boy playing with another kid who turned out to be the king´s grandson. The royal family is known for their common touch and rather than just put their child in some exclusive day care facility, they opted for a good one but one where there was little elitism. So Lucas runs, chases and generally has a good time with Christina, the second daughter of king Juan Carlos and another child who turns out to be the heir to the Fresenet Wine kingdom, not bad company to giggle and swap toys with, eh?
Things started out a little disastrous, Jim forgot his walking shoes. Yes, he´s still Jim. Then the train to Pamplona was totally full, so we had to punt a little. Ellen knew of a good store with lots of outdoor stuff, and I was able to get a pair of shoes that really didn´t need to be broken in, since rule number 1 is never start the Camino with new shoes.
On the second matter, we rented a car, expensive, but our only option since it was a three day holiday and that´s why all trains were totally full. We got to Pamplona and tried to turn the car in, but the agency was closed. But to our rescue came paxti (pronounced Potsy) who found out the rules for us, took us to the rental agency, found where we could leave the car, found us a taxi to Roncesvalles/St. Jean pied de port and we were off and running, so to speak.
All the way I was agonizing as to whether to go to SJPP or Roncesvalles. Weather reports were bad for the Pyrenees and that could turn the 10 hour hike into a 14 to 16 hour day. But to start in Roncesvalles meant not being able to start where we had always hoped to. It was miserable for me. I don´t know why I have this need to continually try to prove myself to myself. I don´t care what anybody else thinks, but I do care what I think about myself. I didn´t want to wimp out and feel that I avoided that first day with its 4000 foot climb in the first ten miles. But it was really the most practical thing to do, so I´m driving myself nuts deciding. Carol is no help. She of the: "Whatever is meant to happen will happen" school is no help to my angst.
Thirty five years ago before Carol and I got together, a woman who was planning to marry me, wanted to see the pictures of my first wedding pictures. That was a very difficult thing for me to relive all that pain and sorrow. But after a lot of resistance I relented, and just as I was opening the album, a song by Harry Nilsson "Everybody´s Talkin" came on the radio.
He sang, "I´m goin where the sun keeps shining through the pouring rain....... and I realized that I wasn’t in that painful place anymore and I could look at the pictures and it didn´t bother me at all.
So.... here we are driving to the start of the Camino and the driver won´t go any farther of than Roncesvalles. I´m trying to figure out what to do, and on Spanish radio, what comes on but Harry Nilsson singing, you got it, "everybody´s talking."
So my spirits were just telling me to take it as it came and stop fighting what I could not change. So it was Roncesvalles, the place in Ancient literature the "Song of Roland" who as Charlemagne´s trusted lieutenant was ambushed and killed a thousand years or so ago.
The refugio is a 12th century monetary and it was such a great place to sleep for that first night before starting off.
Germans, French, Canadians, Italians, some Yanks, Brits, Irishmen, and others of whom I have not a clue bunking in a communal dorm starting this great `pilgrimage of 500 miles.
Our packs are too heavy, but our spirits are light and it has been a beautiful and wonderful first two days. Each day is a journey in itself. We see each day as an event, part of the whole, but totally separate with its own reality and influences.
Yesterday was 14.1 miles of very tough going. The Camino is so varied in structure. Sometimes the Camino is wide and smooth; sometimes it is narrow, rough and very difficult to traverse. Sometimes it is a joy to look around because it is so easy, and sometime we walk with our heads down, one step at a time or we´ll fall down and go boom.
We went up and down, and up and down, repeating the cycle over and over again. The guide says that it should take 6-7 hours and we made it in 5 and 1/2, so we were pleased with our pace. We went straight through without stopping for food or rest, running mostly on adrenaline, probably. We´ve waited so long for this day and to finally be able to begin was exhilarating. The scenery was beautiful mountain greenery, very bucolic: horses, sheep, goats, cattle all blending into a general picture.
Today was totally different. More level, and the ups and downs less severe. However, Carol´s knee gave out and it became very difficult for her to continue. So we decided that I should go ahead, leave my backpack someplace and come back and carry hers to lighten the load. I trucked, I mean I almost trotted the five miles to the next town where I found a church and could leave my pack. I returned fearing the worst, "Did she stop and is waiting for me?" "Will she have to abandon the Camino?" “Will she have to take a taxi to the next town and rest for a day?" In fact, She´s fine. I´m totally wasted. An amazing woman my wife and best friend. I should know better than to ever underestimate her strength, both physical and spiritual. After all, she´s stuck with me for 26 years:-)
Í got back about a mile and there she is coming over a rise. "What in the hell are you doing?" was the only thing I could think of saying. "Walking the Camino," she said simply. I was shocked that she had gotten that far. Her knee hurts on the downhill portion, but otherwise she´s fine and has total confidence in her ability to continue and complete our odyssey. We´re going to get walking sticks tonight and that should diminish the shock to the knee on the downhill parts.
On both days we found a little village/hamlet every 2-3 miles. Wonderful places where time warps backward and houses and barns and pastures are changed little. The cars, satellite dishes, and kid’s bikes out front belie the antiquity of the picture, but it´s still a great scene.
So here we are back in Pamplona that wonderful heart of Basque Spain. 28 miles of our 483 miles completed. (Down from the original 500 because we started one stage later than planned). Loving our trip, happy to be on our way, aware of the difficulties which lurk out there, but confident that our spirits will find a way to show us how to get where we’re trying to go.
Well, this is just a rough start trying to express what at this point is hard to coalesce, and Carol is waiting for me. We´re off to the post office to mail to Ellen pound and pounds of material once thought of as essential, but now just seems like extra pounds which wear us down and out.
We await tomorrow with confidence and expectation that only wonderful things await us.
More to follow as time allows. We hope that each of you is as happy and well as we are.
Jim and Carol
Comunal living on the Camino
Greetings from Puenta la Reina
In many ways each person’s Camino is determined by where they start and when they start. There are no set rules, but since most everybody travels about the same distance each day we all wind up pretty much the same place at night. It´s like a giant movement unto itself, ebbing and flowing, separating and coming back together at various times of the day, sending messages of "Buen Camino" to each other for encouragement. There´s always a genuine sense of pleasure as we find our fellow Camino inhabitants are doing well and hanging in there.
Of the people themselves, there are Kristin and Diane (she of the knee length hair), 27 and 33 years old, two sisters reconnecting after years apart. There is Anna Sophia, a 21 year old Canadian using the Camino to try to discover what it is she wants to do with her life. There are the newly-wed French kids holding hands as they walk their honeymoon. Theresa from Georgia is trying to find herself after getting out of a long and bad marriage and in a lot of pain. There is the American Catholic priest who was willing to tell her the reason she is in so much emotional pain was because she used birth control pills. Ian, the pudgy Irishman has, unfortunately been left behind because he couldn´t do the long journeys while trying to figure out how Catholicism fit into his life. There´s the Spanish woman who talks on her cell phone as she walks, and a myriad of other characters and personalities.
Lots of young people aged 20-30, and a surprising number of people 50-65, and pretty equally divided between men and women, fill our Camino. We pass each other several times a day as we all stop to eat or rest at different times; have different paces, but all end up at the same place pretty much at the same time.
Had we started a day earlier or later, the characters would all be different. I´m sure they´d be just as good, but I´m very partial to our fellow pilgrims. I had read that the interaction of the group is one of the best parts of the Camino and it’s turning out to be that for sure.
Refugios (pilgrim refuges) are scattered throughout the Camino, and this is our fourth, and we sleep generally dormitory style bunk beds. There is the joke about the American woman who came through a couple weeks ago announcing: "All right, who am I sleeping with tonight? Last night I sleep above a German, and the night before I slept under a Frenchman, so who is it tonight?”
Being mostly Europeans in makeup, Camino people have less inhibited views on states of undress, and with 100 people in the same room, there are lots of bodies in various stages of putting clothes on and off.
The refugios are very different in basic facilities. So far, we´ve stayed in an ancient abbey, a new building built just for pilgrims, an old building in bad state of repair and lat night in a convent. They have all had separate men’s and women’s sanitary facilities, so I speak here of only the men´s, as I know it. But we´ve had hot showers each night, though some have open shower areas, some have only one toilet for all the men there, others have individual urinal and commode areas. Last night we had a small room which had four beds in it, the other two occupied by two girls from the Canary Islands. Snorers abound, and earplugs are as important as good shoes to a successful completion of the Camino.
We´ve walked for three days now and feel quite into the swing of things. The good news is that Carol´s right knee is fine. The bad news is that her left knee took the brunt of yesterday and is not giving her pain. But you know Carol, she´ll be fine. Nothing will stop her from her appointed rounds. She´s a lot better than the postman.
Each day´s walk is a mini-Camino in itself, some of it easy, some of it difficult. While each one is only part of the whole, each has its own beginning and ending, it´s own beauty, it´s own problems to be dealt with along the way. Each has its own reality which, when completed, gives a strong sense of accomplishment. It is easy to disconnect from the whole and connect to the moment, which, I think, is how it is supposed to be.
The scenery is simply spectacular. The beauty of Navarra, the state we are in now is one of rolling hills, still green from the spring rains, planted fields abound and picturesque villages break up the openness of the walk every few miles. Everybody just stops often, partly to catch one´s breath, partly to see it as a total picture not just the part directly in front of one´s feet. We keep saying: "how can we explain how beautiful it is to people." We take lots of photos, but we don´t think that will fully express what we see. Maybe it´s not important that it does.
We walk between 6 and 8 hours each day. We’re very tired at the completion of the day. Then it´s time for a quick shower, washing clothes, a quick nap, journal writing, dinner and to bed early since most people hit the trail by 6:30 a.m. the following morning.
We have walked about 47 miles in our three days of travel. Today was the longest, a 17.5 mile journey from Pamplona to here. We passed through wheat fields wafting in the breeze like some giant fan circulating the air to different parts of the fields. We climbed over a thousand feet to a pass, walking through a field of Spanish Broom in total bloom towards the summit where wind farm turbines whooshed and swooshed as turned and broke the silence of the climb. General conversation ceases and people concentrate on one foot in front of the other during the hard climbs. A full view forward to what was in store for us and a backward view of where we had been, gave us both encouragement and an awesome realization of what was still in store for the day. You can see the trail weaving itself off into the distance blurring until it´s lost after so many miles. Best that way, I think. Better not to think too far into the future. Live the moment, enjoy it and appreciate it but still know a little about what´s ahead.
So just know that we are more than fine. We’re having a wonderful adventure. Like everybody else, we walk down stairs at the end of the day very gingerly, we all have sore toes and knees, the balls of our feet need some serious time off, and we all await tomorrow with excitement and anticipation for what the day will bring.
I don´t think any of us would have it any other way.
Jim and Carol
In many ways each person’s Camino is determined by where they start and when they start. There are no set rules, but since most everybody travels about the same distance each day we all wind up pretty much the same place at night. It´s like a giant movement unto itself, ebbing and flowing, separating and coming back together at various times of the day, sending messages of "Buen Camino" to each other for encouragement. There´s always a genuine sense of pleasure as we find our fellow Camino inhabitants are doing well and hanging in there.
Of the people themselves, there are Kristin and Diane (she of the knee length hair), 27 and 33 years old, two sisters reconnecting after years apart. There is Anna Sophia, a 21 year old Canadian using the Camino to try to discover what it is she wants to do with her life. There are the newly-wed French kids holding hands as they walk their honeymoon. Theresa from Georgia is trying to find herself after getting out of a long and bad marriage and in a lot of pain. There is the American Catholic priest who was willing to tell her the reason she is in so much emotional pain was because she used birth control pills. Ian, the pudgy Irishman has, unfortunately been left behind because he couldn´t do the long journeys while trying to figure out how Catholicism fit into his life. There´s the Spanish woman who talks on her cell phone as she walks, and a myriad of other characters and personalities.
Lots of young people aged 20-30, and a surprising number of people 50-65, and pretty equally divided between men and women, fill our Camino. We pass each other several times a day as we all stop to eat or rest at different times; have different paces, but all end up at the same place pretty much at the same time.
Had we started a day earlier or later, the characters would all be different. I´m sure they´d be just as good, but I´m very partial to our fellow pilgrims. I had read that the interaction of the group is one of the best parts of the Camino and it’s turning out to be that for sure.
Refugios (pilgrim refuges) are scattered throughout the Camino, and this is our fourth, and we sleep generally dormitory style bunk beds. There is the joke about the American woman who came through a couple weeks ago announcing: "All right, who am I sleeping with tonight? Last night I sleep above a German, and the night before I slept under a Frenchman, so who is it tonight?”
Being mostly Europeans in makeup, Camino people have less inhibited views on states of undress, and with 100 people in the same room, there are lots of bodies in various stages of putting clothes on and off.
The refugios are very different in basic facilities. So far, we´ve stayed in an ancient abbey, a new building built just for pilgrims, an old building in bad state of repair and lat night in a convent. They have all had separate men’s and women’s sanitary facilities, so I speak here of only the men´s, as I know it. But we´ve had hot showers each night, though some have open shower areas, some have only one toilet for all the men there, others have individual urinal and commode areas. Last night we had a small room which had four beds in it, the other two occupied by two girls from the Canary Islands. Snorers abound, and earplugs are as important as good shoes to a successful completion of the Camino.
We´ve walked for three days now and feel quite into the swing of things. The good news is that Carol´s right knee is fine. The bad news is that her left knee took the brunt of yesterday and is not giving her pain. But you know Carol, she´ll be fine. Nothing will stop her from her appointed rounds. She´s a lot better than the postman.
Each day´s walk is a mini-Camino in itself, some of it easy, some of it difficult. While each one is only part of the whole, each has its own beginning and ending, it´s own beauty, it´s own problems to be dealt with along the way. Each has its own reality which, when completed, gives a strong sense of accomplishment. It is easy to disconnect from the whole and connect to the moment, which, I think, is how it is supposed to be.
The scenery is simply spectacular. The beauty of Navarra, the state we are in now is one of rolling hills, still green from the spring rains, planted fields abound and picturesque villages break up the openness of the walk every few miles. Everybody just stops often, partly to catch one´s breath, partly to see it as a total picture not just the part directly in front of one´s feet. We keep saying: "how can we explain how beautiful it is to people." We take lots of photos, but we don´t think that will fully express what we see. Maybe it´s not important that it does.
We walk between 6 and 8 hours each day. We’re very tired at the completion of the day. Then it´s time for a quick shower, washing clothes, a quick nap, journal writing, dinner and to bed early since most people hit the trail by 6:30 a.m. the following morning.
We have walked about 47 miles in our three days of travel. Today was the longest, a 17.5 mile journey from Pamplona to here. We passed through wheat fields wafting in the breeze like some giant fan circulating the air to different parts of the fields. We climbed over a thousand feet to a pass, walking through a field of Spanish Broom in total bloom towards the summit where wind farm turbines whooshed and swooshed as turned and broke the silence of the climb. General conversation ceases and people concentrate on one foot in front of the other during the hard climbs. A full view forward to what was in store for us and a backward view of where we had been, gave us both encouragement and an awesome realization of what was still in store for the day. You can see the trail weaving itself off into the distance blurring until it´s lost after so many miles. Best that way, I think. Better not to think too far into the future. Live the moment, enjoy it and appreciate it but still know a little about what´s ahead.
So just know that we are more than fine. We’re having a wonderful adventure. Like everybody else, we walk down stairs at the end of the day very gingerly, we all have sore toes and knees, the balls of our feet need some serious time off, and we all await tomorrow with excitement and anticipation for what the day will bring.
I don´t think any of us would have it any other way.
Jim and Carol
Communal aches and pains
Hello again.
Another 14 miles, another ache here and there. Actually we are all suffering and sharing. Anna Sophia left her insoles in Canada and got blisters from wearing boots without any supports. Luckily Carol had brought extras so she gave them to her and that helped out immensely. Carol´s knee is not any better, but along the way a guy had some spray-on liniment which relieved the pain, an Italian woman in the next bunk has HORRIBLE blisters, and I had something called new skin which we gave her. Grazi, grazi, she kept saying. People offer all kinds of things ´cause we all know what the other person is going through. My knee hurts but not as badly as Carol´s, my big toe is sore, and the balls of my feet are very tired of the step after step. But everybody hangs in there together and supports each other.
One of the sayings about the Camino is that it will provide whatever the pilgrim needs, and to that end, Carol found a dead branch which was laying there just waiting for her to pick up and use as her walking stick. I was going to buy her one last night, but couldn´t find one that I thought she´d like, so today she finds one for herself. And as you know, Carol would rather make her own than find one ready made. So right now she´s back at the refugio whittling and fine tuning her personal stick. And what´s Jim doing? He´s out walking around town running into internet cafes where he can say, "cool, I can write Carol also found a elastic knee bandage which seems to be helping.”
We have been given an ample re-education on the fact that Spain is the second most mountainous country in Europe. Geography lesson, everybody. Damn teachers, they never stop. Anyway, looking at a map of today´s route, it looked very flat. Well, that just means that the climbs were only 1,000 to 1,500 feet. That would be okay if you could just go up and then down, but no....... they put one after another so in the end it is somewhat misleading to say that there are three days with climbs over 4,000 in the day. I think that we must do that most days.
Since we had a slower pace today, we didn´t arrive here in time to go out to the free winery. The Bodega Irache has a tap with water on one side and wine on the other, free to pilgrims. And the thing about it is, that the locals don´t go out there and scarf up on the free wine, they leave it for us thirsty peregrinos. Try that in Lodi:-) Unfortunately, they don´t open the spigots until 10:30 in the morning. No early morning drunks on the trail. We´ll pass it too early tomorrow.
Colors are so beautiful at this time of year. Huge fields of red poppies, tons of wild flowers all brilliantly displayed. Because the trail is often narrow and we have to walk single file, if I’m in front I sometimes realize that I don’t hear the plop-plop-plop of her stick behind me. I stop and turn around to see if she’s having a problem, but no, she off smelling some flower she doesn´t know, trying to identify it. The latest is the pink honeysuckle. She finds tiny little snails attached to wheat stalks, and all kinds of things which always bring out that giggle that I know means she groovin’ on something.
One benefit of the long climbs is that we get some incredible vistas. Today we could look back all the way to the mountains we climbed yesterday with the windmills. It was really gratifying to know that we had travelled all that distance. Made the pains seem worthwhile and certainly understandable.
It´s really funny how we all seem to have this communal consciousness. Often we´ll see something coming up and decide to take a break. When we get there we find a dozen or more of other pilgrims who have decided to do the same thing at the same place.
Everybody is so open with their stories of why they are here. There is this sense that every moment is so transitory. There´s little time to play cute and coy, so it´s just kinda let the truth all hang out ´cause nobody knows if they´ll see each other again. For example, two Finns, a married couple, got today in four days but had actually started 20 miles before we started. So we´ll talk tonight, but tomorrow with their pace and ours, they´ll be long gone.
Dianne and Kristin are the two with whom we spend the most time. We have wound up at the same place each night about the same time, so our beds wind up close to each other.
You think we´re crazy for walking the 500 miles! Well, there are dozens of pilgrims who started back in France at Le Puy, which means that they have already walked 500 miles and have 500 more to go. Some have been walking for 6 weeks already because of the cold spring weather. Their journey will take up to three months. Now that´s what I call free time.
Well, my whittling wife waits. I was supposed to find some little place to eat something, and I did, it´s just that they also had computers at the same place. So I´ve been eating eggs, sausage, and French fries while I type. Don´t get me started on the French fries. I swear every Spanish meal seems to have fries with them. Trying to get something to eat for dinner at a time when most of the world wants to eat is difficult in Spain. "Lights out" is at 10 (except for the other refugio last night where apparently they partied most of the night. So much for the religious aspect of the Camino) and so because most restaurants don´t open till 8:30 it´s hard not to go to bed with stomach´s rolling and roiling. There does seem to be one that opens here at 7:30. Think we´ll try it. Spanish Chinese food. Could be the subject for another letter.
Tomorrow is a critical day for us. Our pace has slowed and that´s okay because the stages have been about 14-15 miles each day. Tomorrow will be the same, but then we get into some longer 18-20 miles stages. We were on the trail eight hours today, so we´re hopeful that with the walking stick and the bandage tomorrow we’ll be more on track time wise. We´ll find out.
Hope this finds all of you where ever you are in the world as happy and fulfilled as we are.
Love to all,
Jim and Carol
Another 14 miles, another ache here and there. Actually we are all suffering and sharing. Anna Sophia left her insoles in Canada and got blisters from wearing boots without any supports. Luckily Carol had brought extras so she gave them to her and that helped out immensely. Carol´s knee is not any better, but along the way a guy had some spray-on liniment which relieved the pain, an Italian woman in the next bunk has HORRIBLE blisters, and I had something called new skin which we gave her. Grazi, grazi, she kept saying. People offer all kinds of things ´cause we all know what the other person is going through. My knee hurts but not as badly as Carol´s, my big toe is sore, and the balls of my feet are very tired of the step after step. But everybody hangs in there together and supports each other.
One of the sayings about the Camino is that it will provide whatever the pilgrim needs, and to that end, Carol found a dead branch which was laying there just waiting for her to pick up and use as her walking stick. I was going to buy her one last night, but couldn´t find one that I thought she´d like, so today she finds one for herself. And as you know, Carol would rather make her own than find one ready made. So right now she´s back at the refugio whittling and fine tuning her personal stick. And what´s Jim doing? He´s out walking around town running into internet cafes where he can say, "cool, I can write Carol also found a elastic knee bandage which seems to be helping.”
We have been given an ample re-education on the fact that Spain is the second most mountainous country in Europe. Geography lesson, everybody. Damn teachers, they never stop. Anyway, looking at a map of today´s route, it looked very flat. Well, that just means that the climbs were only 1,000 to 1,500 feet. That would be okay if you could just go up and then down, but no....... they put one after another so in the end it is somewhat misleading to say that there are three days with climbs over 4,000 in the day. I think that we must do that most days.
Since we had a slower pace today, we didn´t arrive here in time to go out to the free winery. The Bodega Irache has a tap with water on one side and wine on the other, free to pilgrims. And the thing about it is, that the locals don´t go out there and scarf up on the free wine, they leave it for us thirsty peregrinos. Try that in Lodi:-) Unfortunately, they don´t open the spigots until 10:30 in the morning. No early morning drunks on the trail. We´ll pass it too early tomorrow.
Colors are so beautiful at this time of year. Huge fields of red poppies, tons of wild flowers all brilliantly displayed. Because the trail is often narrow and we have to walk single file, if I’m in front I sometimes realize that I don’t hear the plop-plop-plop of her stick behind me. I stop and turn around to see if she’s having a problem, but no, she off smelling some flower she doesn´t know, trying to identify it. The latest is the pink honeysuckle. She finds tiny little snails attached to wheat stalks, and all kinds of things which always bring out that giggle that I know means she groovin’ on something.
One benefit of the long climbs is that we get some incredible vistas. Today we could look back all the way to the mountains we climbed yesterday with the windmills. It was really gratifying to know that we had travelled all that distance. Made the pains seem worthwhile and certainly understandable.
It´s really funny how we all seem to have this communal consciousness. Often we´ll see something coming up and decide to take a break. When we get there we find a dozen or more of other pilgrims who have decided to do the same thing at the same place.
Everybody is so open with their stories of why they are here. There is this sense that every moment is so transitory. There´s little time to play cute and coy, so it´s just kinda let the truth all hang out ´cause nobody knows if they´ll see each other again. For example, two Finns, a married couple, got today in four days but had actually started 20 miles before we started. So we´ll talk tonight, but tomorrow with their pace and ours, they´ll be long gone.
Dianne and Kristin are the two with whom we spend the most time. We have wound up at the same place each night about the same time, so our beds wind up close to each other.
You think we´re crazy for walking the 500 miles! Well, there are dozens of pilgrims who started back in France at Le Puy, which means that they have already walked 500 miles and have 500 more to go. Some have been walking for 6 weeks already because of the cold spring weather. Their journey will take up to three months. Now that´s what I call free time.
Well, my whittling wife waits. I was supposed to find some little place to eat something, and I did, it´s just that they also had computers at the same place. So I´ve been eating eggs, sausage, and French fries while I type. Don´t get me started on the French fries. I swear every Spanish meal seems to have fries with them. Trying to get something to eat for dinner at a time when most of the world wants to eat is difficult in Spain. "Lights out" is at 10 (except for the other refugio last night where apparently they partied most of the night. So much for the religious aspect of the Camino) and so because most restaurants don´t open till 8:30 it´s hard not to go to bed with stomach´s rolling and roiling. There does seem to be one that opens here at 7:30. Think we´ll try it. Spanish Chinese food. Could be the subject for another letter.
Tomorrow is a critical day for us. Our pace has slowed and that´s okay because the stages have been about 14-15 miles each day. Tomorrow will be the same, but then we get into some longer 18-20 miles stages. We were on the trail eight hours today, so we´re hopeful that with the walking stick and the bandage tomorrow we’ll be more on track time wise. We´ll find out.
Hope this finds all of you where ever you are in the world as happy and fulfilled as we are.
Love to all,
Jim and Carol
Pablito and his walking sticks
Hello from Logroño
On Thursday we left Estella for Los Arcos and Carol´s knee felt fine to start with, but after a few miles it flared up again. She was quite slow and we decided that I should go ahead as before and come back to carry her pack and lighten her load on the knee. I took a shortcut for the village of Asqueta. When I arrived I went to the church to see if I could leave my backpack there, but it was closed. Hey, this is Spain, what´s that all about! It´s not NYC or Stockton. Anyway, I asked a man I met where I could leave my pack and he said to go to Pablito´s house and directed me there. When I arrived, he let me leave my pack there and go after Carol. Again, I took the shortcut back and when I arrived at the crossing point, asked some other pilgrims if they had seen her. They said: "The blond?" Well, that was close enough for me, so I said yes. They said she was ahead, and I said that was impossible since I had left her way back, and I had taken the shortcut to and from the village. But I looked down the road, and could see the orange sleeping bag cover, and her tee shirt. It blew my mind that she had traveled so far, so fast, but what do I know? Not much apparently. I walk with her and she has problems, she walks alone and is much better. I´m not liking this picture very much.
We went to Pablito´s house, and it turns out that he is quite famous. He had a copy of Conde Nast traveler with his picture prominently displayed in it and a big write up about him. He is the pilgrim´s friend in the area. He made a poultice of herbs and put it on Carol´s knee and talked to her about carrying too much weight for her knees and other problems of walking the Camino. We asked what the poultice was and he just said that it was Australian plants. After he attended her knee he took her to the back and gave her a walking stick. It is this for which he is most famous. He prepares the simple hazelwood sticks and has dozens of different lengths and thicknesses. After choosing the correct one for carol, he proceeded to give her walking lessons, stamped our Camino passports, and we were off again.
It was a 15 mile walk and she felt great for most of the time, but the swelling had already started before we got to Pablito´s so the pain returned. So I went ahead again and this time didn´t come back for her. I did find an old castle ruin which I climbed and took out my monocular to look for her on the road, and could see she was making progress, slowly, but progress. There were two Italian women there, Daniella and Carla having lunch, so I just waited a while with them and then when Carol came, walked with her for awhile, and then went off ahead to the refugio and Carol arrived about 15 minutes after I got there.
We decided that maybe subconsciously she is trying to adjust to my pace and therefore walking faster than she should. I like that explanation better than the one that she is better off without me. By the end of the walk though, she had blister problems and she decided that she should take a bus today instead of walking. We debated as to whether I should accompany her on the bus, or walk without her and though we went back and forth on the issue, finally decided that I would continue on the Camino and she would come to Logroño on the bus, mail her heavy sleeping bag and whatever else she could discard and try tomorrow.
As it turns out several others had also decided to bus today. It was a long 18 mile section with nothing particular interesting about it, so Carol and two other women took the bus and gave their aches and pains a break. There is an Italian woman who walks until she tires, then hitchhikes. Several others utilize the service which will take their bags to the next refugio and they walk without any bags, others have a sort of caravan which meets and greets them as they cross roads which have auto access. When they get to the spot, lunch, cold drinks, and whatever other support is necessary is provided. there is no bad mouthing or tsk, tsk, tsk, going on. Everybody´s hurting and everybody knows how hard this is. What ever it takes to complete the journey is acceptable.
There is, however, a sort of built in snobbery that occurs with people who join in the Camino late in the game. Since you can get your compestela by walking the last 62 miles, those who do only that part of the Camino are looked down upon if they’re only doing it for the certificate. It´s all right to do it in stages, but for those who only do the last part and say they´ve done the Camino, well, eyeballs roll. The story was running through the refugio the other night that one of Bush´s daughter was going to do the last 60 miles to get her compestela. I said that sounded very much like her father´s military service, buy hell, maybe that´s just my Anti-Bush sentiment finding expression. Certainly was well received here though:-)
Everybody keeps saying: "How do we express the beauty of the Camino when we get home?" It´s just amazing - the country side of Navarra province. The late spring rains have everything totally green. At home the wheat and oat fields are dry and brown; here it looks like they do in March or April.
We walk and walk and see villages far out in the distance coming ever closer with each step. Finally, we´re there, and always sooner than we thought when they seemed so far away. We can look back and see from where we´ve travelled, and say, "Wow! we came a long way."
Tomorrow we´ll pass the one hundred mile mark, and the Camino no longer seems daunting to us. We know we can do it, small glitches will always arise, but if we had given ourselves a little wiggle room on the return airline tickets, We could have taken today as a rest day for Carol but she knows that she´s capable of walking the whole distance, as I do myself. It seemed soooooooo long to start, and still does, but by seeing each day as a mini-journey in itself, then it really breaks the whole trip into little doable sections which add up to bigger ones, and finally we´ll be there.
In the morning, there is a long line of pilgrims which lead out from the refugio. It´s almost impossible to get lost. Signs are everywhere which point the way. Each corner in towns and each fork in the road in the countryside are marked and point you to the proper direction. Then you can see all the pilgrims ahead of you which always reassure you as you start each day. As the day passes, the line thins out. Sometimes you can not see anybody. Then you´ll turn a corner in the road, and with a long straight stretch you can see somebody upon whom you are gaining. Sometimes as you walk you´ll here the sound of shoes behind you as you are being overtaken. "Buen Camino," is always the phrase of encouragement for those passing and those being passed. Everybody has their own speed.
Today was the first town where the refugio filled up before everybody got there. It was a long 18 mile section with the last 7 miles totally in the sun without protection of shade trees or villages to pass through to give relief. For those walking with infirmities, the day got long and hard. The last ones coming in around four in the afternoon after an 8-10 hour day. Tough to walk all that way and find no room at the inn.
Generally the weather has been perfect. The morning was cool, but not cold. Some days I start off in long pants and then unzip the trouser bottoms to make shorts out of them as the day warm. Sometimes I just start off in shorts. As the day warms, the breeze comes up, wafts the wheat fields like waves on the ocean and cools the sweat off our brow and hair. Very refreshing. Then in the mid afternoon, it just starts to get hot, and we´re all glad to be so close the end of the day as we arrive at the refugio.
We are all very thankful that we didn´t started later in the year when the heat really builds in Spain, and since this is a holy year, the Camino will get even more crowded than it is right now. Since it´s a holy year, the general buzz is that as we get closer to Santiago we´ll pick up more and more pilgrims, especially when the Bush girl and her four dozen secret service men start crowding the path. Stop it, Jim! Oh well, what the hell, one more shot. I can´t see a Bush staying at the refugio. Okay that´s enough, at least for now:-)
Tomorrow is a 19 mile section and Carol is looking forward to getting back in the saddle, as it were. She´s got her Pablito walking stick, her poultice, various blister treatments and she´s ready, able, and very willing to get back to it. We´ll just play out the day and see what works out best for her. I missed walking and talking with her today. At one point, I heard a very familiar sound and as I rounded a bend, here came a flock of several hundred sheep led by, and flanked by, herding dogs. The shepherd whistled commands and the dogs reacted as they flooded the road and surrounded me as I filmed and enjoyed the aroma with which only sheep can fill the air. Sure smelled like home to me. I missed Carol´s particular giggle which I know that she would let loose when she saw them, just as she does when she sees all the little things which bring her joy. I can only hope that we get more of that on the trail in the days ahead.
But for now we rest and start off early mañana for another day which will be full of surprises and wonderful little things which, when totaled, make up the grand experience we´re having.
Love to all,
Carol and Jim
On Thursday we left Estella for Los Arcos and Carol´s knee felt fine to start with, but after a few miles it flared up again. She was quite slow and we decided that I should go ahead as before and come back to carry her pack and lighten her load on the knee. I took a shortcut for the village of Asqueta. When I arrived I went to the church to see if I could leave my backpack there, but it was closed. Hey, this is Spain, what´s that all about! It´s not NYC or Stockton. Anyway, I asked a man I met where I could leave my pack and he said to go to Pablito´s house and directed me there. When I arrived, he let me leave my pack there and go after Carol. Again, I took the shortcut back and when I arrived at the crossing point, asked some other pilgrims if they had seen her. They said: "The blond?" Well, that was close enough for me, so I said yes. They said she was ahead, and I said that was impossible since I had left her way back, and I had taken the shortcut to and from the village. But I looked down the road, and could see the orange sleeping bag cover, and her tee shirt. It blew my mind that she had traveled so far, so fast, but what do I know? Not much apparently. I walk with her and she has problems, she walks alone and is much better. I´m not liking this picture very much.
We went to Pablito´s house, and it turns out that he is quite famous. He had a copy of Conde Nast traveler with his picture prominently displayed in it and a big write up about him. He is the pilgrim´s friend in the area. He made a poultice of herbs and put it on Carol´s knee and talked to her about carrying too much weight for her knees and other problems of walking the Camino. We asked what the poultice was and he just said that it was Australian plants. After he attended her knee he took her to the back and gave her a walking stick. It is this for which he is most famous. He prepares the simple hazelwood sticks and has dozens of different lengths and thicknesses. After choosing the correct one for carol, he proceeded to give her walking lessons, stamped our Camino passports, and we were off again.
It was a 15 mile walk and she felt great for most of the time, but the swelling had already started before we got to Pablito´s so the pain returned. So I went ahead again and this time didn´t come back for her. I did find an old castle ruin which I climbed and took out my monocular to look for her on the road, and could see she was making progress, slowly, but progress. There were two Italian women there, Daniella and Carla having lunch, so I just waited a while with them and then when Carol came, walked with her for awhile, and then went off ahead to the refugio and Carol arrived about 15 minutes after I got there.
We decided that maybe subconsciously she is trying to adjust to my pace and therefore walking faster than she should. I like that explanation better than the one that she is better off without me. By the end of the walk though, she had blister problems and she decided that she should take a bus today instead of walking. We debated as to whether I should accompany her on the bus, or walk without her and though we went back and forth on the issue, finally decided that I would continue on the Camino and she would come to Logroño on the bus, mail her heavy sleeping bag and whatever else she could discard and try tomorrow.
As it turns out several others had also decided to bus today. It was a long 18 mile section with nothing particular interesting about it, so Carol and two other women took the bus and gave their aches and pains a break. There is an Italian woman who walks until she tires, then hitchhikes. Several others utilize the service which will take their bags to the next refugio and they walk without any bags, others have a sort of caravan which meets and greets them as they cross roads which have auto access. When they get to the spot, lunch, cold drinks, and whatever other support is necessary is provided. there is no bad mouthing or tsk, tsk, tsk, going on. Everybody´s hurting and everybody knows how hard this is. What ever it takes to complete the journey is acceptable.
There is, however, a sort of built in snobbery that occurs with people who join in the Camino late in the game. Since you can get your compestela by walking the last 62 miles, those who do only that part of the Camino are looked down upon if they’re only doing it for the certificate. It´s all right to do it in stages, but for those who only do the last part and say they´ve done the Camino, well, eyeballs roll. The story was running through the refugio the other night that one of Bush´s daughter was going to do the last 60 miles to get her compestela. I said that sounded very much like her father´s military service, buy hell, maybe that´s just my Anti-Bush sentiment finding expression. Certainly was well received here though:-)
Everybody keeps saying: "How do we express the beauty of the Camino when we get home?" It´s just amazing - the country side of Navarra province. The late spring rains have everything totally green. At home the wheat and oat fields are dry and brown; here it looks like they do in March or April.
We walk and walk and see villages far out in the distance coming ever closer with each step. Finally, we´re there, and always sooner than we thought when they seemed so far away. We can look back and see from where we´ve travelled, and say, "Wow! we came a long way."
Tomorrow we´ll pass the one hundred mile mark, and the Camino no longer seems daunting to us. We know we can do it, small glitches will always arise, but if we had given ourselves a little wiggle room on the return airline tickets, We could have taken today as a rest day for Carol but she knows that she´s capable of walking the whole distance, as I do myself. It seemed soooooooo long to start, and still does, but by seeing each day as a mini-journey in itself, then it really breaks the whole trip into little doable sections which add up to bigger ones, and finally we´ll be there.
In the morning, there is a long line of pilgrims which lead out from the refugio. It´s almost impossible to get lost. Signs are everywhere which point the way. Each corner in towns and each fork in the road in the countryside are marked and point you to the proper direction. Then you can see all the pilgrims ahead of you which always reassure you as you start each day. As the day passes, the line thins out. Sometimes you can not see anybody. Then you´ll turn a corner in the road, and with a long straight stretch you can see somebody upon whom you are gaining. Sometimes as you walk you´ll here the sound of shoes behind you as you are being overtaken. "Buen Camino," is always the phrase of encouragement for those passing and those being passed. Everybody has their own speed.
Today was the first town where the refugio filled up before everybody got there. It was a long 18 mile section with the last 7 miles totally in the sun without protection of shade trees or villages to pass through to give relief. For those walking with infirmities, the day got long and hard. The last ones coming in around four in the afternoon after an 8-10 hour day. Tough to walk all that way and find no room at the inn.
Generally the weather has been perfect. The morning was cool, but not cold. Some days I start off in long pants and then unzip the trouser bottoms to make shorts out of them as the day warm. Sometimes I just start off in shorts. As the day warms, the breeze comes up, wafts the wheat fields like waves on the ocean and cools the sweat off our brow and hair. Very refreshing. Then in the mid afternoon, it just starts to get hot, and we´re all glad to be so close the end of the day as we arrive at the refugio.
We are all very thankful that we didn´t started later in the year when the heat really builds in Spain, and since this is a holy year, the Camino will get even more crowded than it is right now. Since it´s a holy year, the general buzz is that as we get closer to Santiago we´ll pick up more and more pilgrims, especially when the Bush girl and her four dozen secret service men start crowding the path. Stop it, Jim! Oh well, what the hell, one more shot. I can´t see a Bush staying at the refugio. Okay that´s enough, at least for now:-)
Tomorrow is a 19 mile section and Carol is looking forward to getting back in the saddle, as it were. She´s got her Pablito walking stick, her poultice, various blister treatments and she´s ready, able, and very willing to get back to it. We´ll just play out the day and see what works out best for her. I missed walking and talking with her today. At one point, I heard a very familiar sound and as I rounded a bend, here came a flock of several hundred sheep led by, and flanked by, herding dogs. The shepherd whistled commands and the dogs reacted as they flooded the road and surrounded me as I filmed and enjoyed the aroma with which only sheep can fill the air. Sure smelled like home to me. I missed Carol´s particular giggle which I know that she would let loose when she saw them, just as she does when she sees all the little things which bring her joy. I can only hope that we get more of that on the trail in the days ahead.
But for now we rest and start off early mañana for another day which will be full of surprises and wonderful little things which, when totaled, make up the grand experience we´re having.
Love to all,
Carol and Jim
Help is always just around the corner
Greetings from Santa Domingo de la calzada
Some quick stories about how pilgrims are always willing to help other pilgrims.
There is a blind man walking the 500 miles to Santiago. He and his guide dog stay at the refugios until someone is willing to walk with them and help them as needed. We saw him at one point but didn´t know the entire story. I´m not sure where he´s from, but the man who told the story, (we got in the middle of it), said that he had guided him for two days, but since the going was so slow, he had to leave him and make better progress or lose his trip with the lost days. He has been making his way, slowly, but assuredly, along and there always seems to be someone willing to give a day to help him in his quest.
There is a Frenchman who pulls what looks like a dolly with which you move washers and driers about and has an oversized wicker basket attached to it. It has the two handles and weighs 100 pounds, but can be balanced easily and, therefore, is not like carrying the entire weight. Everybody likes to pull it for a while just to see how difficult it is. Nice little break for him. On a 15 mile walk, he pulls it maybe five miles On the wide roads we´ve had recently, it wouldn’t be too hard, but on the places where the trail is only a couple of feet wide and very uneven at that, it would seem to be almost impossible. However, he has been walking since the 10th of March from way north in France, so he´s obviously making progress.
There are many people who have big problems with their feet, and there are always people willing to retrace their steps and carry the packs of those who are in pain. They can walk but the weight of the packs is really hard on knees and feet with blisters.
So as you can see, everybody knows that everybody´s hurting and everybody wants everybody to be successful. When I showed my video of the day’s walk to Spanish Tina last night she said: "Dios mio, we all look like we´re crippled." and indeed we are. Hardly a soul is without pain of some sort.
On that score, I´m happy to report that Carol´s day off did remarkable benefit to her, and yesterday she walked the longest section we´ve done so far, a full 18 miles without any real difficulty. Today was a shorter section only 12.5 miles, and again she was able to walk fairly easily, I say fairly, cause, as I said, we´re all hurting. My little toe on my right foot is of semi-serious concern. I don´t see the blister yet, but each step reminds me that things are not as they should be. I´ve felt sooooooooo fortunate because my new shoes have held up admirably and I was able to walk with confidence.
The last three days we´ve made about 48 miles and so the miles start to pile up. We´re about 25% of the way now, and it feels that we´re no longer rookies on the Camino. It´s amazing how many people do this time after time. People do this 2, 3,or even 4 times
The Spaniards we see along the way are also very supportive. We always say: "buen Camino" to each other, but the same comes from dozens of people each day as we pass them on the Camino see them just walking to their fields, or to a neighbor’s house. In the villages (there are over 200 of them along the way) they smile and inquire as to how our Camino is going. Cars, trucks and tractors all honk in support as they pass us, no matter the direction they are travelling. It just gives a little boost when you begin to flag in spirit and energy just to have somebody is that supportive.
The last three days have been "flat." remembering that flat is a relative term for Spain. Long pulls of gradual slopes followed by equally long down slopes are countered by the ever present short hills of about 1/2 a mile with an elevation gain of 200-300 feet, and then the inevitable downside over the top. Dozens of these occur in each days "flat" sections. This, as opposed to Tuesday´s walk, when we have to descend off the meseta. We´ll drop about 3000 feet in about 8 miles. Looks like a bad knee day to us.
We´ve all got sunburned legs in the back since the morning sun begins to warm up and beat down on us from behind as we progress steadily westward. It´s warmed up considerably, somebody said yesterday was about 100 degrees. Tomorrow it´s possible rain showers, and everybody´s trying to figure out whether they´d rather have the hot sun or, walk with ponchos in the rain. We´ll all probably moan and groan no matter what happens:-)
The gang of four as we call them, consists Herman from the Netherlands and Patty from England, both in their late 40´s or early 50´s and are teamed up with Kevin from Scotland and Tanya from Vancouver, both in their early 20´s to form the international drinking party. They were ragging on the 5th member, Bill from Boston, who bailed in Viana because he had heard that there was an internationally famous chef there and he wanted to stay and enjoy some great cuisine. "Not the true spirit of the Camino," they said. Well, last night the four of them started drinking at 2 in the afternoon upon their arrival from the long day, they were dry after all. They didn´t move until 9:45 in the evening and only then because the refugio closes at 10. They were totally wasted. They clambered upstairs to their beds pissing everybody off with their noise and incoherence. Tanya helped Kevin up to his top bunk, took all the things which he had left on the bed and put them on our stuff, and then proceeded to join him for some extra curricular activities. Don´t try to tell them they don´t understand the nature of the Camino. The whole thing happened about two feet from my bunk and the worst of it was that I didn´t even wake up to observe. Carol had to tell me about it this morning. Geez, I miss all the fun. This morning they were back on the Camino full of energy and enthusiasm. Kevin had two beers for breakfast. "If I don´t drink this morning, I can´t walk," he said in his thick brogue. We all roared.
Tonight is a real treat. We´re in a converted barn, so the ceilings are very high and not just about 3 feet above our heads. They are single level beds, not bunk beds, and I found a double bed, so Carol and I can snuggle instead of our usual: quick kiss and “sleep well” that is our usual modus operandi. But with beds and fellow pilgrims all around, we´ll be the epitome of decorum.
Today´s walk was short, just 12.5 miles and so we got into town about 1 p.m. and that after an hour for a full bacon and eggs breakfast, a real treat. We had time to get clean, wash our clothes go for a walk around town, now there´s a bright idea, and time to relax. Other days we just take care of the essentials and then to bed, like last night.
Carol and I are in great spirits. Lots of time to talk about everything, both big and small, important and trivial. So often, there seems to be so many things which we just gloss over since we´re all so busy, but when you walk day after day for 6-8 hours every day, things get into a lot of depth. We love being together and sharing this grand adventure, and we both look forward to tomorrow to see what it will hold in its mini journey, all part of the grand scheme of things.
Hope all of you are well, we´ll write again when we can.
Carol and Jim send love to all
Some quick stories about how pilgrims are always willing to help other pilgrims.
There is a blind man walking the 500 miles to Santiago. He and his guide dog stay at the refugios until someone is willing to walk with them and help them as needed. We saw him at one point but didn´t know the entire story. I´m not sure where he´s from, but the man who told the story, (we got in the middle of it), said that he had guided him for two days, but since the going was so slow, he had to leave him and make better progress or lose his trip with the lost days. He has been making his way, slowly, but assuredly, along and there always seems to be someone willing to give a day to help him in his quest.
There is a Frenchman who pulls what looks like a dolly with which you move washers and driers about and has an oversized wicker basket attached to it. It has the two handles and weighs 100 pounds, but can be balanced easily and, therefore, is not like carrying the entire weight. Everybody likes to pull it for a while just to see how difficult it is. Nice little break for him. On a 15 mile walk, he pulls it maybe five miles On the wide roads we´ve had recently, it wouldn’t be too hard, but on the places where the trail is only a couple of feet wide and very uneven at that, it would seem to be almost impossible. However, he has been walking since the 10th of March from way north in France, so he´s obviously making progress.
There are many people who have big problems with their feet, and there are always people willing to retrace their steps and carry the packs of those who are in pain. They can walk but the weight of the packs is really hard on knees and feet with blisters.
So as you can see, everybody knows that everybody´s hurting and everybody wants everybody to be successful. When I showed my video of the day’s walk to Spanish Tina last night she said: "Dios mio, we all look like we´re crippled." and indeed we are. Hardly a soul is without pain of some sort.
On that score, I´m happy to report that Carol´s day off did remarkable benefit to her, and yesterday she walked the longest section we´ve done so far, a full 18 miles without any real difficulty. Today was a shorter section only 12.5 miles, and again she was able to walk fairly easily, I say fairly, cause, as I said, we´re all hurting. My little toe on my right foot is of semi-serious concern. I don´t see the blister yet, but each step reminds me that things are not as they should be. I´ve felt sooooooooo fortunate because my new shoes have held up admirably and I was able to walk with confidence.
The last three days we´ve made about 48 miles and so the miles start to pile up. We´re about 25% of the way now, and it feels that we´re no longer rookies on the Camino. It´s amazing how many people do this time after time. People do this 2, 3,or even 4 times
The Spaniards we see along the way are also very supportive. We always say: "buen Camino" to each other, but the same comes from dozens of people each day as we pass them on the Camino see them just walking to their fields, or to a neighbor’s house. In the villages (there are over 200 of them along the way) they smile and inquire as to how our Camino is going. Cars, trucks and tractors all honk in support as they pass us, no matter the direction they are travelling. It just gives a little boost when you begin to flag in spirit and energy just to have somebody is that supportive.
The last three days have been "flat." remembering that flat is a relative term for Spain. Long pulls of gradual slopes followed by equally long down slopes are countered by the ever present short hills of about 1/2 a mile with an elevation gain of 200-300 feet, and then the inevitable downside over the top. Dozens of these occur in each days "flat" sections. This, as opposed to Tuesday´s walk, when we have to descend off the meseta. We´ll drop about 3000 feet in about 8 miles. Looks like a bad knee day to us.
We´ve all got sunburned legs in the back since the morning sun begins to warm up and beat down on us from behind as we progress steadily westward. It´s warmed up considerably, somebody said yesterday was about 100 degrees. Tomorrow it´s possible rain showers, and everybody´s trying to figure out whether they´d rather have the hot sun or, walk with ponchos in the rain. We´ll all probably moan and groan no matter what happens:-)
The gang of four as we call them, consists Herman from the Netherlands and Patty from England, both in their late 40´s or early 50´s and are teamed up with Kevin from Scotland and Tanya from Vancouver, both in their early 20´s to form the international drinking party. They were ragging on the 5th member, Bill from Boston, who bailed in Viana because he had heard that there was an internationally famous chef there and he wanted to stay and enjoy some great cuisine. "Not the true spirit of the Camino," they said. Well, last night the four of them started drinking at 2 in the afternoon upon their arrival from the long day, they were dry after all. They didn´t move until 9:45 in the evening and only then because the refugio closes at 10. They were totally wasted. They clambered upstairs to their beds pissing everybody off with their noise and incoherence. Tanya helped Kevin up to his top bunk, took all the things which he had left on the bed and put them on our stuff, and then proceeded to join him for some extra curricular activities. Don´t try to tell them they don´t understand the nature of the Camino. The whole thing happened about two feet from my bunk and the worst of it was that I didn´t even wake up to observe. Carol had to tell me about it this morning. Geez, I miss all the fun. This morning they were back on the Camino full of energy and enthusiasm. Kevin had two beers for breakfast. "If I don´t drink this morning, I can´t walk," he said in his thick brogue. We all roared.
Tonight is a real treat. We´re in a converted barn, so the ceilings are very high and not just about 3 feet above our heads. They are single level beds, not bunk beds, and I found a double bed, so Carol and I can snuggle instead of our usual: quick kiss and “sleep well” that is our usual modus operandi. But with beds and fellow pilgrims all around, we´ll be the epitome of decorum.
Today´s walk was short, just 12.5 miles and so we got into town about 1 p.m. and that after an hour for a full bacon and eggs breakfast, a real treat. We had time to get clean, wash our clothes go for a walk around town, now there´s a bright idea, and time to relax. Other days we just take care of the essentials and then to bed, like last night.
Carol and I are in great spirits. Lots of time to talk about everything, both big and small, important and trivial. So often, there seems to be so many things which we just gloss over since we´re all so busy, but when you walk day after day for 6-8 hours every day, things get into a lot of depth. We love being together and sharing this grand adventure, and we both look forward to tomorrow to see what it will hold in its mini journey, all part of the grand scheme of things.
Hope all of you are well, we´ll write again when we can.
Carol and Jim send love to all
Jim joins the blister bunch, part deux
Hello to all from Leon
Well, the last letter was certainly a bust. My daughter informed me that it came through blank, and that was a real drag after writing for an hour and a half. The biggest bummer was that as I write, ideas percolate from brain to consciousness, and don´t often reappear when writing later. They´re still inside but just not on the surface as I write. But since I’ve been not able to find a computer for such a long time, I´ll just have to do the best I can.
So to recap, sort of, after being so pleased that I didn´t have any blisters I managed to get five in three days, and am now walking as crippled as the rest of us. One of Carol´s got so bad that she lost the nail on her little toe and is definitely hurting, but she trudges on, no surprise. Blister remedies vary with the person, but some people leave them be and just hobble (the least preferred method), some break them and bandage them, others take a needle with a cotton string threaded through the eye and run the needle through both ends of the blister leaving the thread to act as a wick, drying out the blister. Others use iodine to dry and disinfect, while Compeed, a cushioning bandage is very popular. What ever works for the individual is okay with everybody, and nobody claims to have the true answer.
We stayed in a hotel in Burgos so that we had hot water when we wanted it, our own bathroom, and no snorers. Quite a nice treat for ourselves. It´s has been the only one so far. We´re not opposed to hoteling it, but the "Camino crowd" stays in the refugios and since Carol and I generally walk most of the day by ourselves, it´s always fun to interact with them at the end of the day. It is very encouraging and motivating to share our day’s experiences with people who did the same thing during the day.
We’ve been blessed with good weather, 17 days on the road, and not a single day of rain. When it has rained, it´s come after we´ve completed our day and is no problem. The one day that it could have, we plodded on an extra few miles and were glad we did, when those who stopped short had to come about 4 miles through a clay mud field. They had mud about 2-3 inches thick on their shoes which made each step a real chore. They were exhausted by the end of the day. We´ve had three days of strong wind on the trail, but fortunately, it´s been at our backs which makes our going just a little easier as opposed to having it in our face. So we have much for which to be thankful.
A discussion the other night centered on the Camino as a metaphor for life. Some Things are easy and some things are hard, both physically and mentally, overcoming the mental aspect makes the physical part much easier; people come into your life and leave it, so we rejoice in the new encounters and understand when they don´t last; although keeping the long range goal in mind, concentrating on the immediate makes the goal much easier to attain, and, well you get the picture.
We´ve met literally hundreds of people on the Camino and I can honestly say there is only one dud, but more about him at another time. Again, concentrating on the positive is so much healthier for the spirit. Everybody works hard to see that everybody succeeds. Help is never far away, from going back to carrying packs, to sharing supplies, medicine, and advice, to just giving encouraging words
We´ve now completed 17 of our 30 days, and the miles keep melting away. We´ve stopped looking at the end result, however, and now just look at each day as a mini-Camino, and completion of that days trek is all we look for. Santiago is still far off but it´s much more satisfying to see the end of our day as a goal unto itself. Even beyond that, breaking the day´s task into parts helps with that goal. For example, yesterday was a long 20 mile stretch, and instead of saying we had 18 miles left to go, we just said that there was a village 5 miles away, and we could get a break there with some coffee and a juice. Then 4 miles beyond that was a town where we could get food for our lunch, and there was a picnic area just two miles beyond that when we finished up with small pueblos about two miles apart for the last part of the stage. Each town became an accomplishment in itself and because it was mini-sized, easy to reach, and before we knew it, we had walked the entire route in nine hours including all stops.
Bodies rebel but the mind can overcome. My knees creak, my Achilles groan, and, as I shove my shoe on and pinch my little toe, it says very quietly but determinedly: "Boy, you´re gonna pay for this." We start out looking like we´ll never make two miles, but things warm up and we get on a roll. Stopping is hard, because it takes the body time to retool and get back up to speed. So the small aches and pains all reoccur again and again, but still we make it to the end.
Looking at the long rang picture we´re over half way there. We have less than 200 miles to complete the 500 miles.
We´ve made some excellent friends. Carla, a 45 year old Italian, has adopted us as her Camino parents and we´ve all become quite close. Pablo, from Madrid, and I really enjoy seeing each other as we leap frog past each other time and again, only to meet up some days later. Pepe, a rolly polly Spaniard, loves to give Carol a bad time and tease her. But he´s a genuinely caring individual. Then there´s the gang of four. The drinkers I wrote about (hopefully, not in the letter lost). Last night as it appeared that we´d be ahead of them for the rest of the trek, Herman did a really nice thing. We were having some wine before dinner and he had to tell the story about how he first saw this couple walking the Camino holding hands carrying these ridiculous orange sleeping bags. He caught up with us just so he could find out who these people were. Then on their big (one of them at least) drinking day, Carol and I must have passed them a dozen times, and he thought we were being very disapproving of them. But he later learned that we were just amazed that they could do this and get back up the next morning and walk the Camino. Anyway, Herman, Patsy, Tanya, and Kevin each day looked forward to overtaking us and talking with us. They always got a late start, surprise, surprise, and they got so excited when they saw us coming into view. Those ridiculous bags became our recognizable signature up in the distant road ahead. We´ve had so much fun with them, we´ll be sad to lose the daily contact with them. Actually, Kevin, the Scot, has serious tendon problems, and nobody knows whether he´ll be able to catch up. But they adopted Paris, from London, Ontario, (yeah, I know) who was on the verge of abandoning the Camino because she was having such a hard time (partly because of the one unpleasant person), but the gang of four took her in, and she has just blossomed. She is a massage therapist, and gives of her time and energy willingly to any and all who need it. Just another example of peregrinos helping other peregrinos. Last night they dug out two of their tents to help Carla and her friends who got in to the refugio late and all the beds were taken. We´re like wolves, nobody is ever left to themselves, everybody is taken into the fold.
Two nights ago at dinner, I told Paris the story about Carol finding her stick on the Camino just when she needed it, and how we had read that the Camino will supply whatever is needed if a person is just open to it. And that she is another example of that because what she needed was the gang of four, and it was there for her. Everybody appreciated the example.
At the end of each stage it is so fulfilling as we arrive at the refugio. Pepe and his two mates are always there ahead of us (he has bad blisters and they bus half the day´s route). We can always expect to find them sitting in an outside bar drinking a beer, cheering us on as we come in for the final stretch. We can always tell who´s there first by the clothes on the line. Daily washing is a must for the Camino, and when we see certain shirts we know who´s there. Still later others straggle in after taking long breaks along the way, and we´re just as positive to them as others are to us.
After three days of REALLY flat treks, we start to climb again. Today was the longest yet, a 24 mile toe breaker, and we´ve done over 60 miles in the last three days, just one step at a time. Tomorrow is to be a short 14 miler, and we´re all looking forward to that.
Hopefully, it won´t be so long before I can write again, I´ve much to say, but I´m tired!!! and I´m gonna rest. Tomorrow is another day, and, oh yeah, I-m saving this letter so that if it screws up, I´ve got it. Just staying positive:-)
Well, the last letter was certainly a bust. My daughter informed me that it came through blank, and that was a real drag after writing for an hour and a half. The biggest bummer was that as I write, ideas percolate from brain to consciousness, and don´t often reappear when writing later. They´re still inside but just not on the surface as I write. But since I’ve been not able to find a computer for such a long time, I´ll just have to do the best I can.
So to recap, sort of, after being so pleased that I didn´t have any blisters I managed to get five in three days, and am now walking as crippled as the rest of us. One of Carol´s got so bad that she lost the nail on her little toe and is definitely hurting, but she trudges on, no surprise. Blister remedies vary with the person, but some people leave them be and just hobble (the least preferred method), some break them and bandage them, others take a needle with a cotton string threaded through the eye and run the needle through both ends of the blister leaving the thread to act as a wick, drying out the blister. Others use iodine to dry and disinfect, while Compeed, a cushioning bandage is very popular. What ever works for the individual is okay with everybody, and nobody claims to have the true answer.
We stayed in a hotel in Burgos so that we had hot water when we wanted it, our own bathroom, and no snorers. Quite a nice treat for ourselves. It´s has been the only one so far. We´re not opposed to hoteling it, but the "Camino crowd" stays in the refugios and since Carol and I generally walk most of the day by ourselves, it´s always fun to interact with them at the end of the day. It is very encouraging and motivating to share our day’s experiences with people who did the same thing during the day.
We’ve been blessed with good weather, 17 days on the road, and not a single day of rain. When it has rained, it´s come after we´ve completed our day and is no problem. The one day that it could have, we plodded on an extra few miles and were glad we did, when those who stopped short had to come about 4 miles through a clay mud field. They had mud about 2-3 inches thick on their shoes which made each step a real chore. They were exhausted by the end of the day. We´ve had three days of strong wind on the trail, but fortunately, it´s been at our backs which makes our going just a little easier as opposed to having it in our face. So we have much for which to be thankful.
A discussion the other night centered on the Camino as a metaphor for life. Some Things are easy and some things are hard, both physically and mentally, overcoming the mental aspect makes the physical part much easier; people come into your life and leave it, so we rejoice in the new encounters and understand when they don´t last; although keeping the long range goal in mind, concentrating on the immediate makes the goal much easier to attain, and, well you get the picture.
We´ve met literally hundreds of people on the Camino and I can honestly say there is only one dud, but more about him at another time. Again, concentrating on the positive is so much healthier for the spirit. Everybody works hard to see that everybody succeeds. Help is never far away, from going back to carrying packs, to sharing supplies, medicine, and advice, to just giving encouraging words
We´ve now completed 17 of our 30 days, and the miles keep melting away. We´ve stopped looking at the end result, however, and now just look at each day as a mini-Camino, and completion of that days trek is all we look for. Santiago is still far off but it´s much more satisfying to see the end of our day as a goal unto itself. Even beyond that, breaking the day´s task into parts helps with that goal. For example, yesterday was a long 20 mile stretch, and instead of saying we had 18 miles left to go, we just said that there was a village 5 miles away, and we could get a break there with some coffee and a juice. Then 4 miles beyond that was a town where we could get food for our lunch, and there was a picnic area just two miles beyond that when we finished up with small pueblos about two miles apart for the last part of the stage. Each town became an accomplishment in itself and because it was mini-sized, easy to reach, and before we knew it, we had walked the entire route in nine hours including all stops.
Bodies rebel but the mind can overcome. My knees creak, my Achilles groan, and, as I shove my shoe on and pinch my little toe, it says very quietly but determinedly: "Boy, you´re gonna pay for this." We start out looking like we´ll never make two miles, but things warm up and we get on a roll. Stopping is hard, because it takes the body time to retool and get back up to speed. So the small aches and pains all reoccur again and again, but still we make it to the end.
Looking at the long rang picture we´re over half way there. We have less than 200 miles to complete the 500 miles.
We´ve made some excellent friends. Carla, a 45 year old Italian, has adopted us as her Camino parents and we´ve all become quite close. Pablo, from Madrid, and I really enjoy seeing each other as we leap frog past each other time and again, only to meet up some days later. Pepe, a rolly polly Spaniard, loves to give Carol a bad time and tease her. But he´s a genuinely caring individual. Then there´s the gang of four. The drinkers I wrote about (hopefully, not in the letter lost). Last night as it appeared that we´d be ahead of them for the rest of the trek, Herman did a really nice thing. We were having some wine before dinner and he had to tell the story about how he first saw this couple walking the Camino holding hands carrying these ridiculous orange sleeping bags. He caught up with us just so he could find out who these people were. Then on their big (one of them at least) drinking day, Carol and I must have passed them a dozen times, and he thought we were being very disapproving of them. But he later learned that we were just amazed that they could do this and get back up the next morning and walk the Camino. Anyway, Herman, Patsy, Tanya, and Kevin each day looked forward to overtaking us and talking with us. They always got a late start, surprise, surprise, and they got so excited when they saw us coming into view. Those ridiculous bags became our recognizable signature up in the distant road ahead. We´ve had so much fun with them, we´ll be sad to lose the daily contact with them. Actually, Kevin, the Scot, has serious tendon problems, and nobody knows whether he´ll be able to catch up. But they adopted Paris, from London, Ontario, (yeah, I know) who was on the verge of abandoning the Camino because she was having such a hard time (partly because of the one unpleasant person), but the gang of four took her in, and she has just blossomed. She is a massage therapist, and gives of her time and energy willingly to any and all who need it. Just another example of peregrinos helping other peregrinos. Last night they dug out two of their tents to help Carla and her friends who got in to the refugio late and all the beds were taken. We´re like wolves, nobody is ever left to themselves, everybody is taken into the fold.
Two nights ago at dinner, I told Paris the story about Carol finding her stick on the Camino just when she needed it, and how we had read that the Camino will supply whatever is needed if a person is just open to it. And that she is another example of that because what she needed was the gang of four, and it was there for her. Everybody appreciated the example.
At the end of each stage it is so fulfilling as we arrive at the refugio. Pepe and his two mates are always there ahead of us (he has bad blisters and they bus half the day´s route). We can always expect to find them sitting in an outside bar drinking a beer, cheering us on as we come in for the final stretch. We can always tell who´s there first by the clothes on the line. Daily washing is a must for the Camino, and when we see certain shirts we know who´s there. Still later others straggle in after taking long breaks along the way, and we´re just as positive to them as others are to us.
After three days of REALLY flat treks, we start to climb again. Today was the longest yet, a 24 mile toe breaker, and we´ve done over 60 miles in the last three days, just one step at a time. Tomorrow is to be a short 14 miler, and we´re all looking forward to that.
Hopefully, it won´t be so long before I can write again, I´ve much to say, but I´m tired!!! and I´m gonna rest. Tomorrow is another day, and, oh yeah, I-m saving this letter so that if it screws up, I´ve got it. Just staying positive:-)
The power of the Camino
Hello from Astorga:
More about this beautiful city as time permits, but first as to the subject at hand.
Two days ago, our Italian daughter, Carla asked Carol if she would take the bus with her to Leon. Carla has ankle and Achilles problems, and Carol was still hurting with her little toe, so she agreed, without reservation. Two of Carla´s pals, Paul and Patrice, decided to take the bus as well, because they wanted to see more of Leon than time would allow if they walked the 24 miles. I declined because it didn´t make any sense to me to take a bus and miss part of the Camino just to see a city. Leon was beautiful, but if I want to see Leon, I´ll come back and see it. I came to do the Camino.
The next day when we left Leon, Carol and I decided we would go a certain route and Carla and Patrice went the other route. Carla said one thing that was beautiful about the Camino was that people could be together and separate and enjoy being back together again when they met later at a later point on the trail. All well in theory, but when they took the different route, I just felt inside that our two weeks with her had ended. I didn´t feel sad about it, nothing negative, right:-) it was just that people come and go in your lives here. And this was the end of our time together. I rejoiced in the time we did have, she was a real gift to both of us. We took the route we did because it was a little shorter and we could go beyond Astorga tonight. Again that meant that we´d never see Carla again, since she was stopping in Astorga on the second night
We started off yesterday and Carol was really struggling. We made very slow time and hobbled for about four hours when she decided to cut a hole in her shoe so that her little toe would not have the pressure of the shoe rubbing against it. That worked wonders and off she went at a speed and comfort which I had not seen for many days.
At the end of an 8 hour trek, we reached our destination and were able to get a room that had two bunk beds in it and a door which closed. That meant that we could get to sleep at 9 pm and gave us an hour and a half more sleep than if we stayed in the dormitory. We could dress in ease and no snorers, well hardly any:-)
We left this morning at 6:30 and got to a point where again we had to make an option as to which route we would take. We decided and walked for about 5 hours until all routes came together for the final descent into Astorga. Just as we got to the point of the routes joining, who shows up on the other route, well of course (what kind of a story would it be if it was Joe Blow) was Carla. Two days apart, three totally different routes, and we wind up at exactly the same place at exactly the same time. Coincidence, right?
She had walked 26 miles yesterday because she did not want to lose contact with us. She was overjoyed to see us and it was hugs and kisses all around. She cried out:"mami, mani" when carol approached. Really sweet stuff.
I told her that we had decided that she was gone and that we´d not meet again, but she just looked at me and said, simply but determinedly: "NO!" She knew that our time together was not at an end. So naturally we stopped in Astorga rather than continuing on. Don´t want to push the guiding spirits too far. They brought us this far, I know when to back off.
Carol is doing well, slow but steady, and has no doubts that she will make the next 11 days. We can´t believe that we´ve done 19 already. The miles keep descending to Santiago and the spirits keep rising. Each day brings the same, but each day is different. It´s hard to explain, but as Carol said: "At the beginning everybody´s spirits kept everybody else up as we started this trek together, and now that so many of them have gone on to different schedules, we look to our own energies and reflective times to get us through."
In spite of her physical problems, you know my wife and best friend. Her spirits are always positive, and every time something happens to make me think that she might not make it, she proves to me the strength that I know she has. One reason she is so slow is that she has to stop and examine every flower and animal which crosses her path. I no longer stop for her. I slow my pace and wait for her to catch me. She comes up excitedly and tells me that this is the same plant which they use for blue, or was it black, dye, called woad (sp), or that we have this same plant, but that the colors are different, there are blues, yellows, reds, purples and she just basks in the colors and smells as she steps out the miles, no matter the pain. She stops to look at all the different snails on stalks, dragon flies different from anything she´s ever seen before. And a myriad of things which make Carol the only woman I could ever live with.
Now to Astorga.
This place is incredible, and it´s hard to believe that we were going to keep on going and not stop here. Thank you Carla. We liked Leon much better than Burgos, most people did. Part of the problem was that to enter Burgos on the Camino you have to pass a really ugly, smelly, hot, and otherwise miserable stretch of industrial plants. Then the refugio is past the center of town so that you weren´t in the heart of it and when you’re tired, you don´t want to walk all over the place to get to see the city. The Burgos cathedral is quite marvelous, but there are not any stained glass windows.
Leon, on the other hand, was easily assessable, had pilgrim help stations as you entered the town, and the refugio is right in the heart of the medieval center. Since it is a convent, men sleep in one dormitory and women in another, with one exception. Married men sleep in the women´s dorm with their wives. I was one of a half dozen, I suppose, non dispossessed men in the 200 or so women. Oh well, life´s tough;-) In the cathedral, the windows just jump out at you from all around and on three different levels. Absolutely glorious. Carla, who paints stained glass windows for churches, was gaga, as you might expect.
I have yet to go inside the Astorga Cathedral, but from the outside, it certainly is my favorite. Hard to describe in words, but it just is so beautiful the way it all ties together, rather than seeming like different structures done all at different times in different styles. There is the Gaudi palace, an architect who I fell in love with visiting Barcelona as a kid of 19, and one of the best classical lunches I´ve ever had for $10.
Right now, Carol is taking a nap. We´ve got to go out and buy a guide book for the Camino, since I left the zip lock with, not just one, but both copies of our route. The other bad thing was that I had my friend Sarah´s weekly cards in the same bag. She had wonderfully given me six cards with spiritual blessings and thoughts in them for me to opine upon during my trek. I´ll miss my Sarah fix on Wednesdays.
Well two big things are coming up in the next three days. First is Cruz de Ferro, this incredible place where pilgrims have left rocks for over a thousand years. I´ll write about that after we get there on Saturday and then probably on Monday we reach O Cebreiro, which is the big 4000 foot climb in a 20 mile day. There is a web cam at the refugio which broadcasts live pictures and I´ll try to send the website to everybody so that they can see us after the long climb. We want to prove that we´re really not just hanging out in Galt and writing from a Holiday Inn Express.
Since our arrival will be in the late afternoon, which will be early morning in California, noon on the east coast, about the same time in Lithuania, and god only knows what time in Mongolia and all the other places where our friends and family are scattered, We´ll try to stand in front of the camera on the hour at 2-3 different times - if we´re still standing that is. You can get the website by doing a Google, or whatever search engine you do, search asking for "o cebreiro webcam" I´ll also ask my daughter to send it to me so I can paste it in here, Are you listening Ang? I could do the search here, but hey, I´m tired!!
So the days just keep rolling along. 19 done, 11 more to go. 166 miles left to do, 334 done. Technically, we´ve only done 317, but what with missed markers, retracing steps, walking around towns, and various and sundry other walks, we´re sticking to our original 500 miles for the Camino. It´s such a nice round figure and makes subtraction so much easier for our frazzled minds.
When I do or say something stupid which is often these days, Carla does this little Italian hand signal and says:"cuckoo, cuckoo," and laughs at me. No wonder I don´t like Italians.
We´re great, hope all of you are as well. Lots of big, hopefully big enough, towns lay ahead which will have internet places where I can let you know about o cebreiro time schedules and websites for those of you interested. Carol said, "Man, in just two days we´re down to single figures, I Can´t believe it." Well, neither can I, but it does seem to be the truth.
Love to all, and thanks for the positive feed back.
Carol and Jim
More about this beautiful city as time permits, but first as to the subject at hand.
Two days ago, our Italian daughter, Carla asked Carol if she would take the bus with her to Leon. Carla has ankle and Achilles problems, and Carol was still hurting with her little toe, so she agreed, without reservation. Two of Carla´s pals, Paul and Patrice, decided to take the bus as well, because they wanted to see more of Leon than time would allow if they walked the 24 miles. I declined because it didn´t make any sense to me to take a bus and miss part of the Camino just to see a city. Leon was beautiful, but if I want to see Leon, I´ll come back and see it. I came to do the Camino.
The next day when we left Leon, Carol and I decided we would go a certain route and Carla and Patrice went the other route. Carla said one thing that was beautiful about the Camino was that people could be together and separate and enjoy being back together again when they met later at a later point on the trail. All well in theory, but when they took the different route, I just felt inside that our two weeks with her had ended. I didn´t feel sad about it, nothing negative, right:-) it was just that people come and go in your lives here. And this was the end of our time together. I rejoiced in the time we did have, she was a real gift to both of us. We took the route we did because it was a little shorter and we could go beyond Astorga tonight. Again that meant that we´d never see Carla again, since she was stopping in Astorga on the second night
We started off yesterday and Carol was really struggling. We made very slow time and hobbled for about four hours when she decided to cut a hole in her shoe so that her little toe would not have the pressure of the shoe rubbing against it. That worked wonders and off she went at a speed and comfort which I had not seen for many days.
At the end of an 8 hour trek, we reached our destination and were able to get a room that had two bunk beds in it and a door which closed. That meant that we could get to sleep at 9 pm and gave us an hour and a half more sleep than if we stayed in the dormitory. We could dress in ease and no snorers, well hardly any:-)
We left this morning at 6:30 and got to a point where again we had to make an option as to which route we would take. We decided and walked for about 5 hours until all routes came together for the final descent into Astorga. Just as we got to the point of the routes joining, who shows up on the other route, well of course (what kind of a story would it be if it was Joe Blow) was Carla. Two days apart, three totally different routes, and we wind up at exactly the same place at exactly the same time. Coincidence, right?
She had walked 26 miles yesterday because she did not want to lose contact with us. She was overjoyed to see us and it was hugs and kisses all around. She cried out:"mami, mani" when carol approached. Really sweet stuff.
I told her that we had decided that she was gone and that we´d not meet again, but she just looked at me and said, simply but determinedly: "NO!" She knew that our time together was not at an end. So naturally we stopped in Astorga rather than continuing on. Don´t want to push the guiding spirits too far. They brought us this far, I know when to back off.
Carol is doing well, slow but steady, and has no doubts that she will make the next 11 days. We can´t believe that we´ve done 19 already. The miles keep descending to Santiago and the spirits keep rising. Each day brings the same, but each day is different. It´s hard to explain, but as Carol said: "At the beginning everybody´s spirits kept everybody else up as we started this trek together, and now that so many of them have gone on to different schedules, we look to our own energies and reflective times to get us through."
In spite of her physical problems, you know my wife and best friend. Her spirits are always positive, and every time something happens to make me think that she might not make it, she proves to me the strength that I know she has. One reason she is so slow is that she has to stop and examine every flower and animal which crosses her path. I no longer stop for her. I slow my pace and wait for her to catch me. She comes up excitedly and tells me that this is the same plant which they use for blue, or was it black, dye, called woad (sp), or that we have this same plant, but that the colors are different, there are blues, yellows, reds, purples and she just basks in the colors and smells as she steps out the miles, no matter the pain. She stops to look at all the different snails on stalks, dragon flies different from anything she´s ever seen before. And a myriad of things which make Carol the only woman I could ever live with.
Now to Astorga.
This place is incredible, and it´s hard to believe that we were going to keep on going and not stop here. Thank you Carla. We liked Leon much better than Burgos, most people did. Part of the problem was that to enter Burgos on the Camino you have to pass a really ugly, smelly, hot, and otherwise miserable stretch of industrial plants. Then the refugio is past the center of town so that you weren´t in the heart of it and when you’re tired, you don´t want to walk all over the place to get to see the city. The Burgos cathedral is quite marvelous, but there are not any stained glass windows.
Leon, on the other hand, was easily assessable, had pilgrim help stations as you entered the town, and the refugio is right in the heart of the medieval center. Since it is a convent, men sleep in one dormitory and women in another, with one exception. Married men sleep in the women´s dorm with their wives. I was one of a half dozen, I suppose, non dispossessed men in the 200 or so women. Oh well, life´s tough;-) In the cathedral, the windows just jump out at you from all around and on three different levels. Absolutely glorious. Carla, who paints stained glass windows for churches, was gaga, as you might expect.
I have yet to go inside the Astorga Cathedral, but from the outside, it certainly is my favorite. Hard to describe in words, but it just is so beautiful the way it all ties together, rather than seeming like different structures done all at different times in different styles. There is the Gaudi palace, an architect who I fell in love with visiting Barcelona as a kid of 19, and one of the best classical lunches I´ve ever had for $10.
Right now, Carol is taking a nap. We´ve got to go out and buy a guide book for the Camino, since I left the zip lock with, not just one, but both copies of our route. The other bad thing was that I had my friend Sarah´s weekly cards in the same bag. She had wonderfully given me six cards with spiritual blessings and thoughts in them for me to opine upon during my trek. I´ll miss my Sarah fix on Wednesdays.
Well two big things are coming up in the next three days. First is Cruz de Ferro, this incredible place where pilgrims have left rocks for over a thousand years. I´ll write about that after we get there on Saturday and then probably on Monday we reach O Cebreiro, which is the big 4000 foot climb in a 20 mile day. There is a web cam at the refugio which broadcasts live pictures and I´ll try to send the website to everybody so that they can see us after the long climb. We want to prove that we´re really not just hanging out in Galt and writing from a Holiday Inn Express.
Since our arrival will be in the late afternoon, which will be early morning in California, noon on the east coast, about the same time in Lithuania, and god only knows what time in Mongolia and all the other places where our friends and family are scattered, We´ll try to stand in front of the camera on the hour at 2-3 different times - if we´re still standing that is. You can get the website by doing a Google, or whatever search engine you do, search asking for "o cebreiro webcam" I´ll also ask my daughter to send it to me so I can paste it in here, Are you listening Ang? I could do the search here, but hey, I´m tired!!
So the days just keep rolling along. 19 done, 11 more to go. 166 miles left to do, 334 done. Technically, we´ve only done 317, but what with missed markers, retracing steps, walking around towns, and various and sundry other walks, we´re sticking to our original 500 miles for the Camino. It´s such a nice round figure and makes subtraction so much easier for our frazzled minds.
When I do or say something stupid which is often these days, Carla does this little Italian hand signal and says:"cuckoo, cuckoo," and laughs at me. No wonder I don´t like Italians.
We´re great, hope all of you are as well. Lots of big, hopefully big enough, towns lay ahead which will have internet places where I can let you know about o cebreiro time schedules and websites for those of you interested. Carol said, "Man, in just two days we´re down to single figures, I Can´t believe it." Well, neither can I, but it does seem to be the truth.
Love to all, and thanks for the positive feed back.
Carol and Jim
Max and Grandpa's rocks
Greetings from Ponferrada:
There are many traditions on the Camino from hugging the statue of St. James upon arrival in Santiago to people putting cookies and candies out for the pilgrims as they pass their homes and villages. But one tradition that transcends everything is Cruz de Ferro, the cross of iron.
For the last millennium countless millions of pilgrims have brought rocks from their homes or picked them up on the way to lay them at this spot high in the mountains. Over the centuries these stones have created a pile which is now about 12-15 feet high and about 50 feet in diameter. Having read about this I decided that I would bring a rock from my driveway and just before leaving decided that I wanted to place one there for my grandson, Max. The week before we left Carol went to visit Ang and Max one last time and get a rock from Max. So Ang told max to bring grandma a rock, which he did, and Carol gave it to me and I have carried it around with me on the trek.
About a week ago at one of the refugios my back pack kept sliding to the floor and one of the girls picked it up and strapped it to the bed. The only problem was that she turned it upside down and Carol found Max´s rock on the floor and put it back into my pack. Unknown to us, my rock had also fallen out but was left unseen on the floor when we left. I was totally bummed by this. I had so wanted Max and me to have a place where I could always tell him as he grew up that we were always together.
I finally found a rock on the day I walked by myself, but it just wasn´t the same for me. I was very disappointed.
Time step to an email I received last week from a teacher friend of ours who asked me why I was doing the Camino. She understood why Carol was doing it, but what were my motives. I replied the obvious, if Carol is doing it, I´m doing it, and tried to explain a little about my motives of always searching for spiritual understanding, but I really didn´t have concrete answers for her.
Then while walking on the meseta, which gave lots of time for reflection, I decided the reasons I´m here are not important. They are the wrong questions What I really need to know is: "What will I take away with me from my time on the Camino." That is t he critical part. If I´m only leaving here with a sense that I had a good time, saw Spain up close, enjoyed the landscape, saw wonderful pueblos up close and met a lot of really good people, then my trip was not what it should be.
It seems to me that too often in my life, I get hung up on the process; the details of situations get in my way. And so it was with my rock. The point wasn´t whether my rock came from my driveway or any other place. The point was that I had a rock, and max gave me a rock and the two would be together just as I had hoped. I need to focus on the positive aspects of what ever it is that I´m doing and not let the negatives, which are always there, spoil the overall structure.
In so much of my life I over plan. I need to see all the details and know the ending before the process starts. That prevents me from enjoying each step along the way, and leaves me vulnerable to disappointment when things have a reality of their own. Generally, I´m better about being flexible when I travel because I know there are so many variables than I am at home where I feel I have, or can have, more control.
So some of the things I hope to take away with me are the understanding that the concept is more important than the details, and that my planning is just that, not reality.
Of course, that´s here. What happens when I get in the wrong Costco line, of some guy is driving 45 mph in a 55 mile zone and I have the solid white line and no passing place for miles to come. I have lots more thoughts on this issue, but it´s late and I just wanted to get something written tonight.
It´s 7:15 pm and after a 10 hour walk today, we´re pretty tired. We have come off the meseta, the long plateau of northern Spain. The "end of boredom" is how the books described today’s walk. True, it was really different travelling for 4-5 days where the terrain was flat and the vistas were gone from sight, but it really gave time for introspection and reflection. Before the meseta, we had villages every 2-3 miles and we went up and down, then down and up. The views were spectacular, the landscape wonderful. On the meseta, it was so flat, that you could only see a limited part of the landscape. It was just one foot in front of the other, mile after mile.. That is not to say that it was less interesting than the others days just different. As I said, lots of time to talk and think.
Well that changed with a vengeance today. We went up and up and up, then plunged down precipitously, dropping about 3000 feet in just 7 miles. It was really tough going. The trail was very rough and uneven, and the going was difficult. Carol´s knee and feet held up better than mine, and at the end of the 20 miles I was really dead. We decided that we´d pamper ourselves with a hotel room tonight where we could dress and undress without restriction. I had a very long, very hot shower, not worrying about whether I was taking hot water from somebody else, and Carol had a leisurely, hot bath. Good for the souls as well as the bodies. We did laundry, had an early dinner, in Spain, no less, relaxed, and what else, went for a walk:-)
And lastly, for those of you who are interested, following is the website, sent to me by my dutiful and beautiful daughter, Angela. This is the website that is a live webcam at the top of the O Cebreiro climb, described as the most grueling day on the Camino. It has a four thousand foot assent at the end of a 20 mile day. We´re hedging our bets a little by travelling a few extra miles tomorrow and cutting down the overall distance for the day. To that end, we hope to be at the refugio by 4 p.m. Spain time This coming Monday, which is 7 am pst, and the rest of you can figure it out from there- We´ll try to repeat the act at 5 pm, for those of you who don´t have to be up that early on a Monday morning.
Anyway, the website is:http://www.crtvg.es/ingles/camweb/ccebreiro.html
When we´re there on Monday evening our time, that will mean only a week more to go, only 100 miles left to conquer and the worst of it over, or so it seems at this point. Now, don´t start planning tooo much Jim, just let it happen.
In the mean time, it´s time to complete my walk by heading back to my hotel and relaxing for an hour or two before going to bed and starting it all over again tomorrow. We wouldn´t have it any other way.,
Love to all,
Carol and jim
There are many traditions on the Camino from hugging the statue of St. James upon arrival in Santiago to people putting cookies and candies out for the pilgrims as they pass their homes and villages. But one tradition that transcends everything is Cruz de Ferro, the cross of iron.
For the last millennium countless millions of pilgrims have brought rocks from their homes or picked them up on the way to lay them at this spot high in the mountains. Over the centuries these stones have created a pile which is now about 12-15 feet high and about 50 feet in diameter. Having read about this I decided that I would bring a rock from my driveway and just before leaving decided that I wanted to place one there for my grandson, Max. The week before we left Carol went to visit Ang and Max one last time and get a rock from Max. So Ang told max to bring grandma a rock, which he did, and Carol gave it to me and I have carried it around with me on the trek.
About a week ago at one of the refugios my back pack kept sliding to the floor and one of the girls picked it up and strapped it to the bed. The only problem was that she turned it upside down and Carol found Max´s rock on the floor and put it back into my pack. Unknown to us, my rock had also fallen out but was left unseen on the floor when we left. I was totally bummed by this. I had so wanted Max and me to have a place where I could always tell him as he grew up that we were always together.
I finally found a rock on the day I walked by myself, but it just wasn´t the same for me. I was very disappointed.
Time step to an email I received last week from a teacher friend of ours who asked me why I was doing the Camino. She understood why Carol was doing it, but what were my motives. I replied the obvious, if Carol is doing it, I´m doing it, and tried to explain a little about my motives of always searching for spiritual understanding, but I really didn´t have concrete answers for her.
Then while walking on the meseta, which gave lots of time for reflection, I decided the reasons I´m here are not important. They are the wrong questions What I really need to know is: "What will I take away with me from my time on the Camino." That is t he critical part. If I´m only leaving here with a sense that I had a good time, saw Spain up close, enjoyed the landscape, saw wonderful pueblos up close and met a lot of really good people, then my trip was not what it should be.
It seems to me that too often in my life, I get hung up on the process; the details of situations get in my way. And so it was with my rock. The point wasn´t whether my rock came from my driveway or any other place. The point was that I had a rock, and max gave me a rock and the two would be together just as I had hoped. I need to focus on the positive aspects of what ever it is that I´m doing and not let the negatives, which are always there, spoil the overall structure.
In so much of my life I over plan. I need to see all the details and know the ending before the process starts. That prevents me from enjoying each step along the way, and leaves me vulnerable to disappointment when things have a reality of their own. Generally, I´m better about being flexible when I travel because I know there are so many variables than I am at home where I feel I have, or can have, more control.
So some of the things I hope to take away with me are the understanding that the concept is more important than the details, and that my planning is just that, not reality.
Of course, that´s here. What happens when I get in the wrong Costco line, of some guy is driving 45 mph in a 55 mile zone and I have the solid white line and no passing place for miles to come. I have lots more thoughts on this issue, but it´s late and I just wanted to get something written tonight.
It´s 7:15 pm and after a 10 hour walk today, we´re pretty tired. We have come off the meseta, the long plateau of northern Spain. The "end of boredom" is how the books described today’s walk. True, it was really different travelling for 4-5 days where the terrain was flat and the vistas were gone from sight, but it really gave time for introspection and reflection. Before the meseta, we had villages every 2-3 miles and we went up and down, then down and up. The views were spectacular, the landscape wonderful. On the meseta, it was so flat, that you could only see a limited part of the landscape. It was just one foot in front of the other, mile after mile.. That is not to say that it was less interesting than the others days just different. As I said, lots of time to talk and think.
Well that changed with a vengeance today. We went up and up and up, then plunged down precipitously, dropping about 3000 feet in just 7 miles. It was really tough going. The trail was very rough and uneven, and the going was difficult. Carol´s knee and feet held up better than mine, and at the end of the 20 miles I was really dead. We decided that we´d pamper ourselves with a hotel room tonight where we could dress and undress without restriction. I had a very long, very hot shower, not worrying about whether I was taking hot water from somebody else, and Carol had a leisurely, hot bath. Good for the souls as well as the bodies. We did laundry, had an early dinner, in Spain, no less, relaxed, and what else, went for a walk:-)
And lastly, for those of you who are interested, following is the website, sent to me by my dutiful and beautiful daughter, Angela. This is the website that is a live webcam at the top of the O Cebreiro climb, described as the most grueling day on the Camino. It has a four thousand foot assent at the end of a 20 mile day. We´re hedging our bets a little by travelling a few extra miles tomorrow and cutting down the overall distance for the day. To that end, we hope to be at the refugio by 4 p.m. Spain time This coming Monday, which is 7 am pst, and the rest of you can figure it out from there- We´ll try to repeat the act at 5 pm, for those of you who don´t have to be up that early on a Monday morning.
Anyway, the website is:
When we´re there on Monday evening our time, that will mean only a week more to go, only 100 miles left to conquer and the worst of it over, or so it seems at this point. Now, don´t start planning tooo much Jim, just let it happen.
In the mean time, it´s time to complete my walk by heading back to my hotel and relaxing for an hour or two before going to bed and starting it all over again tomorrow. We wouldn´t have it any other way.,
Love to all,
Carol and jim
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor dread of night
From lovely Sarria, hello
We continue, paso por paso, step by step, and they keep adding up. We´ve passed the 400 mile mark, and have 72 to go and five days left to do them. We´ve slowed our pace to get to towns that have internet connections, I´m such a junky, but the pressure is off in terms of making miles for fear of not making it to Santiago on Monday. Today was a short 12 mile jaunt, and more about that in a minute, but
There is such a familiarity to each of our days. We get up around 5 out the door between 5:30 and 6 and walk usually for about 6-8 hours. Upon getting to the refugio it´s a shower, wash clothes, grab lunch, Carol hits her journal, Jim, the junkie, looks for a cyber cafe. A little time to talk with friends and a walk around town, dinner (always late in Spain) and to bed by nine. Then the next morning it´s the same routine again, and again, and again.
While that sounds rather boring each day, I suppose, there is actually tremendous variety to each day, and the last five have be emblematic of those differences.
On our Cruz de ferro day, we walked in total fog, cold total fog at that. We could see no more than 30-50 feet in front of us. We were told that there were incredible vistas to be seen, but you couldn’t prove it by us. The wind swirled around us, and always seemed to be coming directly at us. We really plodded that day. On the meseta, we started shedding clothing by 9 am, and by noon we were down to t-shirts, and short pants. But on the tough day to the cross of iron, we didn´t take our jackets off until after noon and never did shed the bottoms of our pants, Man it was cold. It was hard not to feel every step of the way and it was a long day from that aspect. But the weather finally did clear, and there were the vistas. Gorgeous, deep valleys, reminding us of our Inca trail trek in Peru and the Uribamba valley.
The next day was just glorious, Beautiful cloud formations moved their shadows across the landscape and created an ever-changing pattern of light and dark that kept drawing our attention away from our walking and we were at our immediate destinations much faster than we thought, so the day was just the opposite of the long drudge It was very short.
Then came O Cebreiro day, that day we both dreaded and to which we looked forward. That climb at the end of the 20 mile trek both fascinated us as to how we´d do, and, at the same time, we felt intimidated by it, because of the grueling aspect of the entire climb. Well, add a driving rainstorm into the mix, and we had ourselves a day. It started drizzling even before we left the refugio, Carol put on her poncho, but ever optimistic Jim, said: "It won´t last." It didn´t, the drizzle stopped and the rain started. See, I was right;-) By that time, I was drizzly wet and just stayed that way. The wetness combined with the sweat of the climb meant that I was a real mess by the time we got to the top. Carol too was wet, with the exception that her body from the waist to the neck was dry, but her shoes, pant legs (hey the water´s got to go somewhere off the poncho) were soaked and it was a long, hard day. I wanted to film the vistas, but it was just too wet, and I had nowhere to put the camera and not get it wet as well, not a good idea. So on we pushed. We had done an extra hour and a half the day before to cut down on the 10-11 hours the book says is needed to do the day. We left at 5 a.m. in the dark and arrived at the top at 1230, so we actually did it faster than the book says is necessary. Well, that´s not because we´re good, but because when you´re that miserable, unnecessary stops are really just adding to the misery, cause you´ve got to get going again, and that´s really hard. Plus, there was really nowhere to stop and stay dry anyway .So we just toughed it out. Thank god, I´ve got a wife who´s a tough lady and doesn´t cringe or whine when it gets really bad. Now if she only had a husband who did the same:-) We got the top and as we came over the crest what were we greeted by nothing but.........tour buses. It´s quite the little tourist spot. Japanese tour groups, school kids. The one that really got to me was the group of tourists all with the Camino scallop shell emblem around their neck, acting like they were pilgrims. Now, I´m usually not one to complain about how other people do their trips, but when I was that miserable and tired, it was a little frustrating to see these people frolicking with their umbrellas and then getting back on their bus, saying: "Buen Camino," to each other. Hey, that´s our saying, and you can´t have it:-) But it´s really a charming village and we enjoyed our 8 hours there. We posed for the webcam, talked to Ang who sent us screen shots to prove that we could be seen, and just felt a mixture of utter exhaustion and exhilaration. But after a hot shower and dry clothes, the weather cleared and it was just lovely - dry and warm. We decided that since it was our only day of rain, (and the fact that it was over and done with) it really added to our urban legend, "yeah, we did O Cebreiro, but we did it in a driving rain." Sort of the old: "when I was a kid, I had to walk through snow to get to school..............."
The next day was windy, I mean really windy. A long, hard descent off the top of O Cebreiro with all the vistas we couldn´t film the day before, followed by another long, steep ascent, and then a steep 3000 foot descent in 7 miles. Tough day and my back suddenly decided to act up. Walk 200 yards, stop and rest, walk 200 yards, stop and rest............ Carol´s knee troubled her, but she took it slow and did fine.
Today was black and ominous, but it never did rain on us. We had a good day. My back was fine, Carol´s knee didn´t act up and we breezed in after a 5 hour walk, and had to wait for the refugio to open.
So each day is so different. We never know what to expect and ´we´ve found that the only approach that works is to let it happen and deal with it. We can´t change it, we´ve got to get to the next spot and that´s all there is to it. Certainly takes the boredom out of the routine:-)
In my lost letter, I talked about our "Camino group" the people who all started out in Roncesvalles on the same day, and all the support that we got from each other. The night before I wrote that lost epistle from Burgos was a wonderful night. We were in this little village San Juan de la Ortega. We all went to mass, and they served Garlic soup to all the pilgrims in the monetary afterwards. There was only one bar (cafe) in the village and so everybody just hung out together cause there were only 12 houses in the whole place, and nothing else to do except sleep. Well, that all changed in Burgos. Lots of folks took an extra day to see the city; some used it as a rest day because we were all getting run down. And at the next stop we noticed that our little group of about 50-60 people had diminished considerably. That has continued to drop and today we lost the last of them. Lollie and Inma went further, as did Jose Andres, Meite and her brother Tony stopped short, and we´ve lost contact with Carla again. The last sighting of her was in O Cebreiro where she and Patrice got a room because the refugio was full, and at 11 the next morning, as we heard, they were still making goo-goo eyes at each other and hadn´t left the top of the mountain, either literally or figuratively:-)
So Carol, said: "Okay, it´s just us now. We´ve done that before, and we´ll do that again, so we´re fine." And it is. Five days left now. We´re gonna make it on time barring some spiritual or physical catastrophe. We see so many new faces. You can get your compestela, a certificate of completion for the Camino, just by doing the final 62 miles, and they´ve come out of the walls. A family of four, 12 and 7 year old boys, 4 school girls with an overly ambitious idea of their own invincibility (not to mention a lack of knowledge of the harshness of the Camino) last seen nursing blisters and bad knees. The refugios are overly packed, We hoteled it last night, just because we didn´t want to be part of the whole zoo scene. It was okay when we were with our friends, but just too much with 100 people new to the Camino and not having developed the cooperative spirit we have come to love and expect day in and day out.
It can´t take away from our wonderful camaraderie with people so special they just reach out and touch your hearts and spirits, but now, and we think it´s supposed to be this way, It´s our Camino, just Carol´s and mine. That seems the natural course. About a week or so ago, I telephoned home and was whining to our son about my aches and pains, doubting my abilities about completing the trek, and he just kind of stopped me short. "Ah, dad," he said, "you’ll make it!" I can´t tell you how much that meant to me. From so far away, a voice who knew me so well and had confidence in either my abilities or my stubbornness to know that I could and would do it. I left the telephone so charged with confidence. Then too, Ang, our daughter, sends us pictures of herself, Max, and Rich to help us keep in touch with what´s really important in the overall scheme of things to help is focus on the fact that we´re really not alone in this. Family is everything, whether it´s blood or developed on the Camino.
So we´ll do the last 72 miles together, paso por paso, enjoying each other´s company and support. We say at the end of each day, only 7,6,5 days left, and can´t believe that we´re so close. Of course, when you´re dodging rain clouds it´s hard to think of the ending. That´s part of it, I think, enjoy the process and not focus on the end.
I had to go back and re read my max rock letter. I wrote it in a bar with a television blaring a European soccer game about 5 feet from my head, surrounded by a crowd of rowdy and drunken fans. Ordinarily, just my kind of people and setting, but a little difficult when trying to concentrate on matters of personal and internal feelings. It didn´t totally capture my thoughts, but it´ll have to do.
I´ve got all these notes about which I want to write, but I get started on one thread and it seems to get to the point where: "it´s supposed to be a letter, Jim, not a dissertation." So things are still in there. Tomorrow, another cyber stop, supposedly, and maybe now that I´m pretty caught up, I can get to talking about some of the things to which I haven´t been able to get to. But then again, who knows what tomorrow holds. That´s both the wonder and mystery of our lives at the moment.
So until then,
We´re still living large,
Jim and Carol
p.s. Oh, yeah. Tonight´s a fiesta night here in Sarria, the eve of St. James, I think. Sounds like a late, noisy, and utterly remarkable evening. Maybe there´s a story there................;-)
We continue, paso por paso, step by step, and they keep adding up. We´ve passed the 400 mile mark, and have 72 to go and five days left to do them. We´ve slowed our pace to get to towns that have internet connections, I´m such a junky, but the pressure is off in terms of making miles for fear of not making it to Santiago on Monday. Today was a short 12 mile jaunt, and more about that in a minute, but
There is such a familiarity to each of our days. We get up around 5 out the door between 5:30 and 6 and walk usually for about 6-8 hours. Upon getting to the refugio it´s a shower, wash clothes, grab lunch, Carol hits her journal, Jim, the junkie, looks for a cyber cafe. A little time to talk with friends and a walk around town, dinner (always late in Spain) and to bed by nine. Then the next morning it´s the same routine again, and again, and again.
While that sounds rather boring each day, I suppose, there is actually tremendous variety to each day, and the last five have be emblematic of those differences.
On our Cruz de ferro day, we walked in total fog, cold total fog at that. We could see no more than 30-50 feet in front of us. We were told that there were incredible vistas to be seen, but you couldn’t prove it by us. The wind swirled around us, and always seemed to be coming directly at us. We really plodded that day. On the meseta, we started shedding clothing by 9 am, and by noon we were down to t-shirts, and short pants. But on the tough day to the cross of iron, we didn´t take our jackets off until after noon and never did shed the bottoms of our pants, Man it was cold. It was hard not to feel every step of the way and it was a long day from that aspect. But the weather finally did clear, and there were the vistas. Gorgeous, deep valleys, reminding us of our Inca trail trek in Peru and the Uribamba valley.
The next day was just glorious, Beautiful cloud formations moved their shadows across the landscape and created an ever-changing pattern of light and dark that kept drawing our attention away from our walking and we were at our immediate destinations much faster than we thought, so the day was just the opposite of the long drudge It was very short.
Then came O Cebreiro day, that day we both dreaded and to which we looked forward. That climb at the end of the 20 mile trek both fascinated us as to how we´d do, and, at the same time, we felt intimidated by it, because of the grueling aspect of the entire climb. Well, add a driving rainstorm into the mix, and we had ourselves a day. It started drizzling even before we left the refugio, Carol put on her poncho, but ever optimistic Jim, said: "It won´t last." It didn´t, the drizzle stopped and the rain started. See, I was right;-) By that time, I was drizzly wet and just stayed that way. The wetness combined with the sweat of the climb meant that I was a real mess by the time we got to the top. Carol too was wet, with the exception that her body from the waist to the neck was dry, but her shoes, pant legs (hey the water´s got to go somewhere off the poncho) were soaked and it was a long, hard day. I wanted to film the vistas, but it was just too wet, and I had nowhere to put the camera and not get it wet as well, not a good idea. So on we pushed. We had done an extra hour and a half the day before to cut down on the 10-11 hours the book says is needed to do the day. We left at 5 a.m. in the dark and arrived at the top at 1230, so we actually did it faster than the book says is necessary. Well, that´s not because we´re good, but because when you´re that miserable, unnecessary stops are really just adding to the misery, cause you´ve got to get going again, and that´s really hard. Plus, there was really nowhere to stop and stay dry anyway .So we just toughed it out. Thank god, I´ve got a wife who´s a tough lady and doesn´t cringe or whine when it gets really bad. Now if she only had a husband who did the same:-) We got the top and as we came over the crest what were we greeted by nothing but.........tour buses. It´s quite the little tourist spot. Japanese tour groups, school kids. The one that really got to me was the group of tourists all with the Camino scallop shell emblem around their neck, acting like they were pilgrims. Now, I´m usually not one to complain about how other people do their trips, but when I was that miserable and tired, it was a little frustrating to see these people frolicking with their umbrellas and then getting back on their bus, saying: "Buen Camino," to each other. Hey, that´s our saying, and you can´t have it:-) But it´s really a charming village and we enjoyed our 8 hours there. We posed for the webcam, talked to Ang who sent us screen shots to prove that we could be seen, and just felt a mixture of utter exhaustion and exhilaration. But after a hot shower and dry clothes, the weather cleared and it was just lovely - dry and warm. We decided that since it was our only day of rain, (and the fact that it was over and done with) it really added to our urban legend, "yeah, we did O Cebreiro, but we did it in a driving rain." Sort of the old: "when I was a kid, I had to walk through snow to get to school..............."
The next day was windy, I mean really windy. A long, hard descent off the top of O Cebreiro with all the vistas we couldn´t film the day before, followed by another long, steep ascent, and then a steep 3000 foot descent in 7 miles. Tough day and my back suddenly decided to act up. Walk 200 yards, stop and rest, walk 200 yards, stop and rest............ Carol´s knee troubled her, but she took it slow and did fine.
Today was black and ominous, but it never did rain on us. We had a good day. My back was fine, Carol´s knee didn´t act up and we breezed in after a 5 hour walk, and had to wait for the refugio to open.
So each day is so different. We never know what to expect and ´we´ve found that the only approach that works is to let it happen and deal with it. We can´t change it, we´ve got to get to the next spot and that´s all there is to it. Certainly takes the boredom out of the routine:-)
In my lost letter, I talked about our "Camino group" the people who all started out in Roncesvalles on the same day, and all the support that we got from each other. The night before I wrote that lost epistle from Burgos was a wonderful night. We were in this little village San Juan de la Ortega. We all went to mass, and they served Garlic soup to all the pilgrims in the monetary afterwards. There was only one bar (cafe) in the village and so everybody just hung out together cause there were only 12 houses in the whole place, and nothing else to do except sleep. Well, that all changed in Burgos. Lots of folks took an extra day to see the city; some used it as a rest day because we were all getting run down. And at the next stop we noticed that our little group of about 50-60 people had diminished considerably. That has continued to drop and today we lost the last of them. Lollie and Inma went further, as did Jose Andres, Meite and her brother Tony stopped short, and we´ve lost contact with Carla again. The last sighting of her was in O Cebreiro where she and Patrice got a room because the refugio was full, and at 11 the next morning, as we heard, they were still making goo-goo eyes at each other and hadn´t left the top of the mountain, either literally or figuratively:-)
So Carol, said: "Okay, it´s just us now. We´ve done that before, and we´ll do that again, so we´re fine." And it is. Five days left now. We´re gonna make it on time barring some spiritual or physical catastrophe. We see so many new faces. You can get your compestela, a certificate of completion for the Camino, just by doing the final 62 miles, and they´ve come out of the walls. A family of four, 12 and 7 year old boys, 4 school girls with an overly ambitious idea of their own invincibility (not to mention a lack of knowledge of the harshness of the Camino) last seen nursing blisters and bad knees. The refugios are overly packed, We hoteled it last night, just because we didn´t want to be part of the whole zoo scene. It was okay when we were with our friends, but just too much with 100 people new to the Camino and not having developed the cooperative spirit we have come to love and expect day in and day out.
It can´t take away from our wonderful camaraderie with people so special they just reach out and touch your hearts and spirits, but now, and we think it´s supposed to be this way, It´s our Camino, just Carol´s and mine. That seems the natural course. About a week or so ago, I telephoned home and was whining to our son about my aches and pains, doubting my abilities about completing the trek, and he just kind of stopped me short. "Ah, dad," he said, "you’ll make it!" I can´t tell you how much that meant to me. From so far away, a voice who knew me so well and had confidence in either my abilities or my stubbornness to know that I could and would do it. I left the telephone so charged with confidence. Then too, Ang, our daughter, sends us pictures of herself, Max, and Rich to help us keep in touch with what´s really important in the overall scheme of things to help is focus on the fact that we´re really not alone in this. Family is everything, whether it´s blood or developed on the Camino.
So we´ll do the last 72 miles together, paso por paso, enjoying each other´s company and support. We say at the end of each day, only 7,6,5 days left, and can´t believe that we´re so close. Of course, when you´re dodging rain clouds it´s hard to think of the ending. That´s part of it, I think, enjoy the process and not focus on the end.
I had to go back and re read my max rock letter. I wrote it in a bar with a television blaring a European soccer game about 5 feet from my head, surrounded by a crowd of rowdy and drunken fans. Ordinarily, just my kind of people and setting, but a little difficult when trying to concentrate on matters of personal and internal feelings. It didn´t totally capture my thoughts, but it´ll have to do.
I´ve got all these notes about which I want to write, but I get started on one thread and it seems to get to the point where: "it´s supposed to be a letter, Jim, not a dissertation." So things are still in there. Tomorrow, another cyber stop, supposedly, and maybe now that I´m pretty caught up, I can get to talking about some of the things to which I haven´t been able to get to. But then again, who knows what tomorrow holds. That´s both the wonder and mystery of our lives at the moment.
So until then,
We´re still living large,
Jim and Carol
p.s. Oh, yeah. Tonight´s a fiesta night here in Sarria, the eve of St. James, I think. Sounds like a late, noisy, and utterly remarkable evening. Maybe there´s a story there................;-)
Let's see, where were we?
From Portomarin, we send saludos and other appropriate greetings:
I had hoped to start with some fun and games about the feast of St John (I think I said St. James, and it´s important to keep ones saints all in their
proper festival), but as it turned out, the opening ceremonies were to start at 8:30, which means that they started just short of 9 p.m., then the politicians and TV personalities had to do their sthick, and so Carol and I looked at each other around 9:30 with that knowing glance that 26 years together brings, and we headed off to the refugio and bed. The thing didn´t really get rolling until after 11 p.m. and that´s way too late for our tired dogs. So, sorry folks, no great stories about fire crackers being sent into the crowd by little old ladies or such. We´ve done this festival in Barcelona in the past, and it is, indeed, a wild time. Oh well, maybe when we come back and do it by car.
Speaking of which, I got my first taste of my own personal snobbery on the Camino today when at the end of our 14 mile walk we were passed by a several groups of very cheerful, spirited, and very energetic walkers. We noticed that they had an array of various foot wear, and all carried incredibly small packs. When we crossed the bridge coming into town we saw all of them getting into a bus. They had walked about five miles and were being bused to the next place where they would again cheerfully, energetically and with full spirit walk their next five miles.
So I didn´t like my reaction. I just kind of shook my head at the thought of that kind of Camino. As if I had the true answer, which as my children will happily attest, I haven´t a clue. It´s just that the Camino is bombarded now with people doing as little as possible and doing it only for the compestela, like it some kind of badge. I heard that the Bush girl was much the same, and what´s this, there´s a story that Janet Jackson is doing the Camino this year? I wonder what she´ll flash for her fans? Anyway, my Camino is not any better than anybody else’s, and I have no right to question other´s motives, it´s just that being really tired and knowing how the bonds of personal closeness with the other pilgrims has brought us together on this Camino, it´s funny to see people looking for quick and easy answers. Yes, I know that there are lots of people who can´t take a month to do this, but we´ve run into many people who come back year after year, doing what they can each year and picking up where they left off the next year, and that has credibility for me. Well, enough of this whining.
For us, it´s another day down and another day closer. We’re forced into a tight spot of confidence without being cocky. We know that we´re close now, four days and 58 miles away from our goal, but disaster is only a turned ankle, or a bicyclist running us down (those terrorists of the Camino who come flying up silently behind you and scream by at breakneck speeds) from having our Camino end prematurely. So we´re close, but still we take it only a day at a time. Tomorrow is the goal, not Santiago.
We are in good physical condition, but it seems that everyday is a new challenge. My back is great now. Don´t know what happened that one day, but I started to get a new blister today and had to get some immediate and quick repairs from my nurse who is always close at hand. Carol´s toe is pain free, but today she had spasms in her shoulders which made it harder. So the body just kind of moves from troubled spot to troubled spot. That´s why confidence is high, but we know better than to be cocky.
As we continue the road seems to improve. We think (read hope) that as we get closer and the road is done by more and more people that the path improves. Today was wide, smooth, and flat. Well, flat from side to side of the road. We went up and down, then down and back up. But still a successful and pleasant day.
Being in Galicia as we are means that we´re really into an entirely different region. Different language, entirely different crops, music (bagpipes, Celtic harp, and the like) and architectural styles.
When we were in Navarraa, at the start of the trip, we were in Basque country. Everything was so clean and well kept. The Basques have been quite prosperous and their houses of stucco always painted white with red trim on windows and eaves were bright and cheerful. On the meseta it was entirely different. There prosperity seems to have deserted the area and the houses were made of adobe - plain, colorless, and basically pretty shabby. You could tell that life was a lot more difficult for the residents of the rocky, arid plain.
Now in Galicia we´ve hit the slate roofs and stone building area. They are beautiful houses and sturdy. The crops and land indicate an area where people live much better and are better off financially.
But no matter what the area, the Spaniards love their flowers. No matter how poor the people, they have managed to have some color in front. If they could afford clay pots they always line each side of the doorway, and the ever present balconies are adorned with flowers. If clay pots are not available, they use 5 gallon, excuse me 20 liter, plastic cans with the tops cut off for their flowers. Walking through the humble villages is no different from the classic cities of Spain; you are continually brightened by color. And they are so proud of them. Compliment them on their flowers and the biggest, brightest smile comes out and they´ll talk to you about them at length.
Throughout the Camino, we pass through these small villages. And in the depressed area Carol and I have felt that the pilgrims are really good business for the towns. Thousands of people coming through in a given year, stopping at the bars for cafe con leche, a beer, wine, sodas, sandwiches, lunches and the shops infuses these towns with an income which would otherwise be missing and gives a better life to many of the residents in them.
Met a French woman walking with her father today. They started in Paris four years ago and have come back each year to do the next stage. There´s Petra who started in Southern Germany, a Dutch fireman walking from Holland, and many others doing what makes our Camino seem like those that I groused about earlier in this letter. Then there´s the man who when he gets to Santiago leaves on foot for Jerusalem, now that´s a walk!!! There are people who have done this whole camno 3,4,5 times. It has that kind of magic about it.
Carol mentioned today that losing our Camino family along the way is kind of like watching your kids grow up and then they leave home. It´s okay, it´s just different. We miss them and the community those evenings brought. However, it´s easier because instead of pushing to where everybody is going, we can set our own pace. We hoteled it the other night since there was nobody in the refugio that we knew or with whom we had any connection. There are always smiles around at the end of the day, but everybody that we talk to now has had the same experience. The French woman said that it´s so different for her this year since she doesn´t know anybody, and she was so close to her "Camino family" last year.
I´m sitting in a bar looking out at these incredible Galicia clouds. They are so dramatic! Huge bilious cumulous things which just so dominate the entire landscape. They say the weather here is much like England´s. The rain has continued to hold off for us. Got to the point today when I "garbage canned" my backpack with the black hefty bag I carry. Carol took out her poncho and was ready at a moment´s notice to get into the sauna that wrapping herself in the poncho brings. Hot and sweaty underneath and wet and cold outside. Well, you get the picture. But the drizzle never amounted to anything more than that and we got here around 1 p.m. after seven hours on the road. ´
We had a good lunch, I´ve got to eat more, every time I weigh myself at a pharmacy, I´ve lost more weight. 12 pounds and counting. Carol´s pissed, cause she weighs the same as when she left. It´s just a combination of the continual physical drain of calories from walking so much and the Spanish late dinners. Try to find a restaurant open before 8:30, I dare you. I´m in bed by nine, so dinner is light and catch as catch can. Thank god for all the wine I´m drinking or I´d have drifted away in the strong wind the other day.
Well, my computer clock is telling me that my time is three minutes and counting and so I´ll sign off for now. I´m not overly thrilled by the general tone of my letter today, seems picky and small minded in part. Oh well, just part of the overall balance of life, I suppose. I´ll try to be in a better place next time.
Hope all of you are well, we are. and we hope that all of you are in as good a place spiritually and emotionally as we are. Thinking well of each and every one, we remain,
Jim and Carol
I had hoped to start with some fun and games about the feast of St John (I think I said St. James, and it´s important to keep ones saints all in their
proper festival), but as it turned out, the opening ceremonies were to start at 8:30, which means that they started just short of 9 p.m., then the politicians and TV personalities had to do their sthick, and so Carol and I looked at each other around 9:30 with that knowing glance that 26 years together brings, and we headed off to the refugio and bed. The thing didn´t really get rolling until after 11 p.m. and that´s way too late for our tired dogs. So, sorry folks, no great stories about fire crackers being sent into the crowd by little old ladies or such. We´ve done this festival in Barcelona in the past, and it is, indeed, a wild time. Oh well, maybe when we come back and do it by car.
Speaking of which, I got my first taste of my own personal snobbery on the Camino today when at the end of our 14 mile walk we were passed by a several groups of very cheerful, spirited, and very energetic walkers. We noticed that they had an array of various foot wear, and all carried incredibly small packs. When we crossed the bridge coming into town we saw all of them getting into a bus. They had walked about five miles and were being bused to the next place where they would again cheerfully, energetically and with full spirit walk their next five miles.
So I didn´t like my reaction. I just kind of shook my head at the thought of that kind of Camino. As if I had the true answer, which as my children will happily attest, I haven´t a clue. It´s just that the Camino is bombarded now with people doing as little as possible and doing it only for the compestela, like it some kind of badge. I heard that the Bush girl was much the same, and what´s this, there´s a story that Janet Jackson is doing the Camino this year? I wonder what she´ll flash for her fans? Anyway, my Camino is not any better than anybody else’s, and I have no right to question other´s motives, it´s just that being really tired and knowing how the bonds of personal closeness with the other pilgrims has brought us together on this Camino, it´s funny to see people looking for quick and easy answers. Yes, I know that there are lots of people who can´t take a month to do this, but we´ve run into many people who come back year after year, doing what they can each year and picking up where they left off the next year, and that has credibility for me. Well, enough of this whining.
For us, it´s another day down and another day closer. We’re forced into a tight spot of confidence without being cocky. We know that we´re close now, four days and 58 miles away from our goal, but disaster is only a turned ankle, or a bicyclist running us down (those terrorists of the Camino who come flying up silently behind you and scream by at breakneck speeds) from having our Camino end prematurely. So we´re close, but still we take it only a day at a time. Tomorrow is the goal, not Santiago.
We are in good physical condition, but it seems that everyday is a new challenge. My back is great now. Don´t know what happened that one day, but I started to get a new blister today and had to get some immediate and quick repairs from my nurse who is always close at hand. Carol´s toe is pain free, but today she had spasms in her shoulders which made it harder. So the body just kind of moves from troubled spot to troubled spot. That´s why confidence is high, but we know better than to be cocky.
As we continue the road seems to improve. We think (read hope) that as we get closer and the road is done by more and more people that the path improves. Today was wide, smooth, and flat. Well, flat from side to side of the road. We went up and down, then down and back up. But still a successful and pleasant day.
Being in Galicia as we are means that we´re really into an entirely different region. Different language, entirely different crops, music (bagpipes, Celtic harp, and the like) and architectural styles.
When we were in Navarraa, at the start of the trip, we were in Basque country. Everything was so clean and well kept. The Basques have been quite prosperous and their houses of stucco always painted white with red trim on windows and eaves were bright and cheerful. On the meseta it was entirely different. There prosperity seems to have deserted the area and the houses were made of adobe - plain, colorless, and basically pretty shabby. You could tell that life was a lot more difficult for the residents of the rocky, arid plain.
Now in Galicia we´ve hit the slate roofs and stone building area. They are beautiful houses and sturdy. The crops and land indicate an area where people live much better and are better off financially.
But no matter what the area, the Spaniards love their flowers. No matter how poor the people, they have managed to have some color in front. If they could afford clay pots they always line each side of the doorway, and the ever present balconies are adorned with flowers. If clay pots are not available, they use 5 gallon, excuse me 20 liter, plastic cans with the tops cut off for their flowers. Walking through the humble villages is no different from the classic cities of Spain; you are continually brightened by color. And they are so proud of them. Compliment them on their flowers and the biggest, brightest smile comes out and they´ll talk to you about them at length.
Throughout the Camino, we pass through these small villages. And in the depressed area Carol and I have felt that the pilgrims are really good business for the towns. Thousands of people coming through in a given year, stopping at the bars for cafe con leche, a beer, wine, sodas, sandwiches, lunches and the shops infuses these towns with an income which would otherwise be missing and gives a better life to many of the residents in them.
Met a French woman walking with her father today. They started in Paris four years ago and have come back each year to do the next stage. There´s Petra who started in Southern Germany, a Dutch fireman walking from Holland, and many others doing what makes our Camino seem like those that I groused about earlier in this letter. Then there´s the man who when he gets to Santiago leaves on foot for Jerusalem, now that´s a walk!!! There are people who have done this whole camno 3,4,5 times. It has that kind of magic about it.
Carol mentioned today that losing our Camino family along the way is kind of like watching your kids grow up and then they leave home. It´s okay, it´s just different. We miss them and the community those evenings brought. However, it´s easier because instead of pushing to where everybody is going, we can set our own pace. We hoteled it the other night since there was nobody in the refugio that we knew or with whom we had any connection. There are always smiles around at the end of the day, but everybody that we talk to now has had the same experience. The French woman said that it´s so different for her this year since she doesn´t know anybody, and she was so close to her "Camino family" last year.
I´m sitting in a bar looking out at these incredible Galicia clouds. They are so dramatic! Huge bilious cumulous things which just so dominate the entire landscape. They say the weather here is much like England´s. The rain has continued to hold off for us. Got to the point today when I "garbage canned" my backpack with the black hefty bag I carry. Carol took out her poncho and was ready at a moment´s notice to get into the sauna that wrapping herself in the poncho brings. Hot and sweaty underneath and wet and cold outside. Well, you get the picture. But the drizzle never amounted to anything more than that and we got here around 1 p.m. after seven hours on the road. ´
We had a good lunch, I´ve got to eat more, every time I weigh myself at a pharmacy, I´ve lost more weight. 12 pounds and counting. Carol´s pissed, cause she weighs the same as when she left. It´s just a combination of the continual physical drain of calories from walking so much and the Spanish late dinners. Try to find a restaurant open before 8:30, I dare you. I´m in bed by nine, so dinner is light and catch as catch can. Thank god for all the wine I´m drinking or I´d have drifted away in the strong wind the other day.
Well, my computer clock is telling me that my time is three minutes and counting and so I´ll sign off for now. I´m not overly thrilled by the general tone of my letter today, seems picky and small minded in part. Oh well, just part of the overall balance of life, I suppose. I´ll try to be in a better place next time.
Hope all of you are well, we are. and we hope that all of you are in as good a place spiritually and emotionally as we are. Thinking well of each and every one, we remain,
Jim and Carol
Ho, hum. Another boringly perfect day
Hello from Palas de Rei:
Before i start on today, I want to explain a little about yesterday. I left the internet place feeling that I had been small minded and petty. I explained to Carol what I had written and she said that she totally agreed with me. It had been disconcerting to her as well during the day to see the "swarms," as she called them, parading down the Camino as if on a walk to the park for a birthday celebration. She had been put off by the "designer" clothes now so prevalent on the trail, as opposed to the t-shirts and shorts of our earlier time.
She reminded me that we had attended a session on the Camino early on where they advised us to walk alone if possible, two was okay, and three was already as many as should be together at a time, since the Camino was a time for reflection and inward thought. So here we are with groups of 8-10 people passing us talking loudly, shouting from the front of the group to the back, and generally "on a Sunday lark" as she put it. People with earphones and music blasting from their ears again spoiling the reverie. One woman came by in complete tennis outfit. Short little tennis skirt, matching top, tennies and little white sport socks. Except for the backpack on her back, she might have been off looking for her lost racket.
For the first three weeks plus, Carol and I usually walked together but not surrounded by other people all the time. Some afternoons Carla would join us, and on other days we were passed, or we passed ourselves, people from "our Camino" with whom we would converse for a while and then everybody would do their own pace and we´d be back alone again. That was great for us.
The great thing about travelling with Carol is that it´s the best of both worlds. We have been together for so long, that we can walk for a long time without words. We´re not bored with each other, and it´s not that we´ve nothing to say to each other, we just know that we like our private time and being together doesn´t detract from that. We still talk lots during the day, but when you’re are on the road for 8-10 hours together, there´s time for both.
So here we are with different rules, and it took a little time to "adjust" to them.
But today we awoke to the day with a different attitude and were rewarded with what we both feel was our best and most perfect day on the Camino, and that´s saying a lot!
We left the refugio at 5:55 and started our immediate climb of 1,000 feet. The legs said: "What no warm-up time?" but they responded well. The road was level and since I had started the day without jacket I did not get overheated. Carol chucked her jacket by 7:30 and we continued. The temperature was great, and even though we walked through the fog, it did not detract from our walk. The other foggy day was a real drag, but today was fine. At the top of our climb the fog lifted and there was Galicia in front of us in all its glory. Checkerboard plots of arable land, pueblos dotting the horizon and those beautiful clouds giving a frame to the total picture.
Our day was punctuated by the eve-pleasant locals, being, well, ever pleasant. An old man on his porch with his dog sleeping dutifully at his side responded with a thrust of his cane to the air, when greeted by "Buenas Dias, Senor." "Egualmente" he exuberantly returned. A woman working in her huerto, don´t call it a jardin, took time from hoeing the weeds to respond agreeably to my request to film her and her garden. Then an old woman with grizzled face walking toward us stopped and engaged us in conversation in response to my suggestion that today was a great day for a walk. She had one of those timeless faces, toothless in great measure, lines that showed many years of living, and a spirit which belied the old adage that the good die young.
The downers of the "newbies" was more than compensated by conversations with three different pilgrims at different times during the day who had completed their Camino and were headed, walking, back to France, from whence they had come.
The best was the last, a man of about 50 who walked with his dog a short haired shepherd of some sort. The dog had its own backpack specially fitted for him with pouches on either side for balance, and complete, get this, with his very own scallop shell on his back, the perpetual sign of a pilgrim. Now that´s what I call the Camino spirit. I can´t tell you how much it buoyed us to see that and talk to him for just a moment.
The weather was perfect, cool and the walk gave us a mixture of sun to warm our bodies, then shade as we walked through what Carol called the "Sherwood forest" effect. She could sense the old pilgrims walking through these woods, protected from bandits by the Templar knights, wearing only their cloaks and carrying nothing more than their staffs, and a double ended gourd for their water. It truly gave her a sense of connection with the pilgrims over the centuries.
I looked at my watch and we had walked for 4 hours and 45 minutes and we didn´t feel tired at all. Contrast that yesterday when we were so tired and the last part of the trip was a matter of determination to get to the end. We walked three miles further today in an hour less than it took yesterday. Carol said that her feet did not hurt her for the first time in the entire trip, and so we are so charged spiritually, mentally, and physically that we can´t wait for tomorrow, even though it will be a long 18 mile trek, the last of the long days.
We passed a milestone today. We no longer have the long climbs. We are headed downward, steadily downward toward Santiago. Now downward in Spain is, as I’ve mentioned before a relative term. To go down 200 feet means that you have to give back 150 of it somewhere later on. Then when you descend 300 feet you have to climb back 200. So, it´s the old, two steps forward, one step backward, bit. But we will not see any more climbs to gain altitude, we could almost roll downhill from here:-)
We got a room tonight. Upon our arrival here there was a long line at the door of the refugio which didn´t open until 1 p.m. Not wanting to spoil the high we were on, and there´s nobody we know there anyway, we opted for a room where we didn´t have to wait for a shower, didn´t have to worry about hot water, or who was snoring in the bunk next to us. If I hear a snorer tonight, I can pat her on the butt and tell her to roll over:-)
I never understood the whole snoring thing. Both Carol and I do snore on occasion, but it´s easily solved as I have said. But, now this is strictly an unscientific study, but it´s my opinion, that something like 27 percent of the general population has a snoring problem, or should I say that 73 percent of the rest of us has a problem with the 27 percent that do snore.
Earplugs are the only savior, but even that causes problems. For example, when I have to get up in the middle of the night to us the bathroom, I am an old man after all, the earplugs prevent all sound except the sound of my own breathing, which I hear from the inside of my own head. It´s the Darth Vader breathing, as Carol calls it. She solves the problem by removing one plug when she gets up, after all, she is an old lady, in addition to being my old lady:-), but I just walk down the corridor of beds, listening to the sound of my breath like I was underwater using scuba gear. I feel like a scene out of some cheap slasher movie, where you see the guy moving amongst the sleeping bodies in anticipation of the big scene. Beds are all around me as I move, men, women, girls, boys in all sorts of sleeping contortions, wearing an array of sleeping attire, now with the newbies, even two piece color coordinated pajamas. Oh, what´s happened to my old Camino where everybody slept in just a tee shirt of boxer shorts. Anyway, I digress. Walking down the corridor of beds in the middle of the night with the sound of your own breathing as the only thing you can hear, is very, let me repeat, very, other-worldly.
Well, there´s more on my list to talk about, I´m getting behind again, but there´s supposed to be internet connections tomorrow as well, so let me close by saying that the end is so close we can almost physically feel it in front of us. We saw a wind farm off in the distance today and were reminded that the first time we saw some we were on day three of our trek, and here we are with only three days to go.
Depending upon which list you are using we have either 42, 44, or 47 miles to go. This whole thing is such a guess thing anyway. But the point is we are soooooooo close. Physically we are well, mentally we are in great shape, and with today being such a great day, spiritually, we are in perfect shape. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but in our moods, bring it on. We should be there by the time most of you get up on Monday morning.
So until the next cyber connection, just know that we are connected with each of you on this list in ways far more important than words can express. Some of you we haven´t talked to in a long time while others we have had emails from as recently as today. No matter, you are in our hearts and never far from our thoughts.
Love to all, we remain,
Carol and Jim
Before i start on today, I want to explain a little about yesterday. I left the internet place feeling that I had been small minded and petty. I explained to Carol what I had written and she said that she totally agreed with me. It had been disconcerting to her as well during the day to see the "swarms," as she called them, parading down the Camino as if on a walk to the park for a birthday celebration. She had been put off by the "designer" clothes now so prevalent on the trail, as opposed to the t-shirts and shorts of our earlier time.
She reminded me that we had attended a session on the Camino early on where they advised us to walk alone if possible, two was okay, and three was already as many as should be together at a time, since the Camino was a time for reflection and inward thought. So here we are with groups of 8-10 people passing us talking loudly, shouting from the front of the group to the back, and generally "on a Sunday lark" as she put it. People with earphones and music blasting from their ears again spoiling the reverie. One woman came by in complete tennis outfit. Short little tennis skirt, matching top, tennies and little white sport socks. Except for the backpack on her back, she might have been off looking for her lost racket.
For the first three weeks plus, Carol and I usually walked together but not surrounded by other people all the time. Some afternoons Carla would join us, and on other days we were passed, or we passed ourselves, people from "our Camino" with whom we would converse for a while and then everybody would do their own pace and we´d be back alone again. That was great for us.
The great thing about travelling with Carol is that it´s the best of both worlds. We have been together for so long, that we can walk for a long time without words. We´re not bored with each other, and it´s not that we´ve nothing to say to each other, we just know that we like our private time and being together doesn´t detract from that. We still talk lots during the day, but when you’re are on the road for 8-10 hours together, there´s time for both.
So here we are with different rules, and it took a little time to "adjust" to them.
But today we awoke to the day with a different attitude and were rewarded with what we both feel was our best and most perfect day on the Camino, and that´s saying a lot!
We left the refugio at 5:55 and started our immediate climb of 1,000 feet. The legs said: "What no warm-up time?" but they responded well. The road was level and since I had started the day without jacket I did not get overheated. Carol chucked her jacket by 7:30 and we continued. The temperature was great, and even though we walked through the fog, it did not detract from our walk. The other foggy day was a real drag, but today was fine. At the top of our climb the fog lifted and there was Galicia in front of us in all its glory. Checkerboard plots of arable land, pueblos dotting the horizon and those beautiful clouds giving a frame to the total picture.
Our day was punctuated by the eve-pleasant locals, being, well, ever pleasant. An old man on his porch with his dog sleeping dutifully at his side responded with a thrust of his cane to the air, when greeted by "Buenas Dias, Senor." "Egualmente" he exuberantly returned. A woman working in her huerto, don´t call it a jardin, took time from hoeing the weeds to respond agreeably to my request to film her and her garden. Then an old woman with grizzled face walking toward us stopped and engaged us in conversation in response to my suggestion that today was a great day for a walk. She had one of those timeless faces, toothless in great measure, lines that showed many years of living, and a spirit which belied the old adage that the good die young.
The downers of the "newbies" was more than compensated by conversations with three different pilgrims at different times during the day who had completed their Camino and were headed, walking, back to France, from whence they had come.
The best was the last, a man of about 50 who walked with his dog a short haired shepherd of some sort. The dog had its own backpack specially fitted for him with pouches on either side for balance, and complete, get this, with his very own scallop shell on his back, the perpetual sign of a pilgrim. Now that´s what I call the Camino spirit. I can´t tell you how much it buoyed us to see that and talk to him for just a moment.
The weather was perfect, cool and the walk gave us a mixture of sun to warm our bodies, then shade as we walked through what Carol called the "Sherwood forest" effect. She could sense the old pilgrims walking through these woods, protected from bandits by the Templar knights, wearing only their cloaks and carrying nothing more than their staffs, and a double ended gourd for their water. It truly gave her a sense of connection with the pilgrims over the centuries.
I looked at my watch and we had walked for 4 hours and 45 minutes and we didn´t feel tired at all. Contrast that yesterday when we were so tired and the last part of the trip was a matter of determination to get to the end. We walked three miles further today in an hour less than it took yesterday. Carol said that her feet did not hurt her for the first time in the entire trip, and so we are so charged spiritually, mentally, and physically that we can´t wait for tomorrow, even though it will be a long 18 mile trek, the last of the long days.
We passed a milestone today. We no longer have the long climbs. We are headed downward, steadily downward toward Santiago. Now downward in Spain is, as I’ve mentioned before a relative term. To go down 200 feet means that you have to give back 150 of it somewhere later on. Then when you descend 300 feet you have to climb back 200. So, it´s the old, two steps forward, one step backward, bit. But we will not see any more climbs to gain altitude, we could almost roll downhill from here:-)
We got a room tonight. Upon our arrival here there was a long line at the door of the refugio which didn´t open until 1 p.m. Not wanting to spoil the high we were on, and there´s nobody we know there anyway, we opted for a room where we didn´t have to wait for a shower, didn´t have to worry about hot water, or who was snoring in the bunk next to us. If I hear a snorer tonight, I can pat her on the butt and tell her to roll over:-)
I never understood the whole snoring thing. Both Carol and I do snore on occasion, but it´s easily solved as I have said. But, now this is strictly an unscientific study, but it´s my opinion, that something like 27 percent of the general population has a snoring problem, or should I say that 73 percent of the rest of us has a problem with the 27 percent that do snore.
Earplugs are the only savior, but even that causes problems. For example, when I have to get up in the middle of the night to us the bathroom, I am an old man after all, the earplugs prevent all sound except the sound of my own breathing, which I hear from the inside of my own head. It´s the Darth Vader breathing, as Carol calls it. She solves the problem by removing one plug when she gets up, after all, she is an old lady, in addition to being my old lady:-), but I just walk down the corridor of beds, listening to the sound of my breath like I was underwater using scuba gear. I feel like a scene out of some cheap slasher movie, where you see the guy moving amongst the sleeping bodies in anticipation of the big scene. Beds are all around me as I move, men, women, girls, boys in all sorts of sleeping contortions, wearing an array of sleeping attire, now with the newbies, even two piece color coordinated pajamas. Oh, what´s happened to my old Camino where everybody slept in just a tee shirt of boxer shorts. Anyway, I digress. Walking down the corridor of beds in the middle of the night with the sound of your own breathing as the only thing you can hear, is very, let me repeat, very, other-worldly.
Well, there´s more on my list to talk about, I´m getting behind again, but there´s supposed to be internet connections tomorrow as well, so let me close by saying that the end is so close we can almost physically feel it in front of us. We saw a wind farm off in the distance today and were reminded that the first time we saw some we were on day three of our trek, and here we are with only three days to go.
Depending upon which list you are using we have either 42, 44, or 47 miles to go. This whole thing is such a guess thing anyway. But the point is we are soooooooo close. Physically we are well, mentally we are in great shape, and with today being such a great day, spiritually, we are in perfect shape. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but in our moods, bring it on. We should be there by the time most of you get up on Monday morning.
So until the next cyber connection, just know that we are connected with each of you on this list in ways far more important than words can express. Some of you we haven´t talked to in a long time while others we have had emails from as recently as today. No matter, you are in our hearts and never far from our thoughts.
Love to all, we remain,
Carol and Jim
Did I say it was all downhill?
From Arzua:
Man what a tough day. As Carol said,"They just had to throw one more test at us, didn´t they?" And what a test it was. Long and hard!!! It was a test of physical endurance and mental determination to make it and not bail off the day earlier than we had planned.
The distance was not the longest we´ve had, it was 17 miles, but oh those ups and downs, literally. Although the elevation chart shows that we dropped about 400 feet for the day, and there were not those loooong pulls of 1,000 feet, we climbed to a village only to descend on the other side at the same elevation at which we had started. Then we descended to a river only to ascend on the other side of the valley. Looking back, we had neither gained nor lost elevation, but that didn´t take away from the fact that it was tough. We must have climbed over a dozen times where we ascended for 15-30 minutes then plunged back down. Knees objected mightily over the last 5 miles, and quads rebelled for the last 10.
But we survived and are now so close, we "could walk from here." Depending upon which chart your using (I´ve been using the one with the longest distance because I didn´t want to have to do more miles when I thought I was done, but now I´m using the shortest one possible and will deal with reality if, indeed, I have to) we´re 21 to 24 miles from reaching Santiago.
I´m being circumspect about the distances because today I remembered the first day we walked from Roncesvalles and passed the memorial to the 64 year old Japanese pilgrim who died of a heart attack on his first day on the Camino. Also I know that on Monday I will pass a similar memorial to a 68 year old German who died on the last climb of the Camino, just short of the "mountain of joy" from where you can finally see Santiago just below, 2.5 miles away. So we know that things can, and often do, happen, but we´re filled with confidence. Two short days of 10-12 miles apiece and we´re there.
In spite of the toughness, the weather was glorious again. The rain held off and we walked in lovely settings. Long stretches through eucalyptus forests where the birds just sang for us all the way through seeming to give us encouragement and enthusiasm. At the end of the forest, the world opened up into glorious Galician views. Local ladies picking peas outside their homes giving encouragement, cars honking horns as they passed from their viewpoint of the Camino above, and farmers working their fields. All took away from our sense of tiredness and gave us spirit to carry on. After eight and a half hours we arrived and didn´t even try to get into the refugio. They are small in this area, 40-50 beds, and with the swarms of pilgrims, it´s just a dead issue to wait in line or walk to the refugio to see if there´s a bed, when we know in fact, there´s none. So we´ve opted to look for hotels now. Earlier on the Camino we stayed in refugios with 15 beds, and they didn´t fill up. In Portomarin, the refugio has 300 beds and was completely filled by mid afternoon. Gee, that means that I have to have my own bathroom and shower, and I get to go to bed when I want to, and for this I have to pay $35. Okay, I can do this.
There really isn´t anybody that we want to visit with in the refugios now anyway. Everybody on our Camino is gone and we´re left with the tennis lady and such, so it´s really an easy call.
We have met a great little family, but they too are hoteling it since they walk slower with the boys. I think I mentioned the mom and dad walking with their 12 and 7 year old sons. Alberto, the 12 year old is serious, and Jorge, the 7 year old is just the cutest kid, after Max, naturally. Whenever we´re together he always comes down and sits with me. He watches me do my cross word puzzles, and practices his English. Only seven, he´s already had two years and his pronunciation isn´t bad. You can see the wheels turn in his little head as he tries to put sentences together. I show him my map and elevation charts and we talk about what is ahead of us the following day. It isn´t a far jump for me to think that in just a few years, I will be able to do the same with Max. I can hardly wait!!
Their first day on the Camino was the climb to O Cebreiro. Mom and dad were exhausted, but the boys were full of energy and spirit. Each day, however, that energy has sapped as the physical drain of day after day began to take its toll. Last night when we saw them, Jorge was so exhausted he was just one frown away from breaking totally down. We saw them later in a pastry shop (Carol´s trying to fatten me up) and he bounded up to me from behind with the spirit and energy I love to see. Amazing what a little sugar in the body will do for you:-)
Sofia and Christina are two young Spanish women we shared a room with in O Cebreiro. We left before they had gotten up in the morning, and two nights ago, the last night we stayed in a refugio, as I was writing my letter, they found Carol and informed her that I had left my pants in the room and that they had been looking for us for four nights, carrying these things around with them asking everybody: "do you know the American couple? He´s tall with a beard........." I had gotten my clean pair of pants out to wear (the others weren´t really dirty, I´d only worn them for 10 days) and so hadn´t thought about them. Getting dressed and packed, as I have said before, in the dark is a recipe for errors. Anyway, it was really sweet of them to not just throw them away, but rather to carry extra weight so that someone else might not suffer. Such is the spirit of the Camino.
Carol has been unexpectedly pleased and surprised on occasion when we´ve come across people selling cherries or raspberries. Sometimes just a little honor box for you to leave a Euro, sometimes a roadside stand like you´d find at home. Give that woman a chance for some fresh fruit and it´s enough lift her spirits for the day.
One day about a week ago, we were walking through this very economically depressed village and out pops a little lady with a fresh batch of crepes which she makes for the pilgrims. Giving encouragement, she sprinkles powdered sugar on them and you can take one, roll it up for a really nice surprise and treat. She didn´t ask for money, but did say if we wanted to leave a donation, that would be nice too.
Over and over again, we have been touched by the simple acts of kindness and encouragements. The Camino is not well known in the States, but it´s a major deal here. On the night we had Garlic soup at the monetary; they went around and asked nationalities, there were 16 different countries represented. The biggest laugh was when one man answered that he was from: "Pais vasco," Basque country. The Camino is officially one of Europe’s cultural itineraries.
As we walked today, we reflected on moments we have enjoyed on the Camino. There were so many, certainly too many to list here, but we could play the game: "What happened on the day we travelled from point a to point b. Each response by one of us brought a flood of memories from the other. Details which one of us had forgotten were filled in by the other. It seems like just a short time ago we actually started, and yet, it seems like such a long time ago with each day filled with its own memories. There are no lost days on the Camino. Each day is vibrant and alive. Each day is special and meaningful. Even the day to O Cebreiro in the rain is something we treasure (now that it´s done). There was the group of people out picking up snails on the road one morning, no big chore, they´re every where. I think they were lost pilgrims who bogged down in exhaustion, but that´s another story. There was the herd of goats through which we passed. Carol naturally engaged the goat herder in conversation and before she was through was offered one to take home. Try one of those as carry on luggage. And of course the people all along the way.
God, what a memorable experience for us. I haven´t been able in any measure to express in these letters how much it has meant to us, but it´s truly everything we had hoped it would be. And now with two, hopefully, easy days ahead, we can finally think of the culmination of the dream and quest.
I´ll try to write one last time tomorrow before reaching Santiago. Certainly I´ll have something to say upon arrival. So in the mean while, a safe and happy weekend for all of you. It certainly seems to fit for us as well.
Love to all,
Carol and Jim
Man what a tough day. As Carol said,"They just had to throw one more test at us, didn´t they?" And what a test it was. Long and hard!!! It was a test of physical endurance and mental determination to make it and not bail off the day earlier than we had planned.
The distance was not the longest we´ve had, it was 17 miles, but oh those ups and downs, literally. Although the elevation chart shows that we dropped about 400 feet for the day, and there were not those loooong pulls of 1,000 feet, we climbed to a village only to descend on the other side at the same elevation at which we had started. Then we descended to a river only to ascend on the other side of the valley. Looking back, we had neither gained nor lost elevation, but that didn´t take away from the fact that it was tough. We must have climbed over a dozen times where we ascended for 15-30 minutes then plunged back down. Knees objected mightily over the last 5 miles, and quads rebelled for the last 10.
But we survived and are now so close, we "could walk from here." Depending upon which chart your using (I´ve been using the one with the longest distance because I didn´t want to have to do more miles when I thought I was done, but now I´m using the shortest one possible and will deal with reality if, indeed, I have to) we´re 21 to 24 miles from reaching Santiago.
I´m being circumspect about the distances because today I remembered the first day we walked from Roncesvalles and passed the memorial to the 64 year old Japanese pilgrim who died of a heart attack on his first day on the Camino. Also I know that on Monday I will pass a similar memorial to a 68 year old German who died on the last climb of the Camino, just short of the "mountain of joy" from where you can finally see Santiago just below, 2.5 miles away. So we know that things can, and often do, happen, but we´re filled with confidence. Two short days of 10-12 miles apiece and we´re there.
In spite of the toughness, the weather was glorious again. The rain held off and we walked in lovely settings. Long stretches through eucalyptus forests where the birds just sang for us all the way through seeming to give us encouragement and enthusiasm. At the end of the forest, the world opened up into glorious Galician views. Local ladies picking peas outside their homes giving encouragement, cars honking horns as they passed from their viewpoint of the Camino above, and farmers working their fields. All took away from our sense of tiredness and gave us spirit to carry on. After eight and a half hours we arrived and didn´t even try to get into the refugio. They are small in this area, 40-50 beds, and with the swarms of pilgrims, it´s just a dead issue to wait in line or walk to the refugio to see if there´s a bed, when we know in fact, there´s none. So we´ve opted to look for hotels now. Earlier on the Camino we stayed in refugios with 15 beds, and they didn´t fill up. In Portomarin, the refugio has 300 beds and was completely filled by mid afternoon. Gee, that means that I have to have my own bathroom and shower, and I get to go to bed when I want to, and for this I have to pay $35. Okay, I can do this.
There really isn´t anybody that we want to visit with in the refugios now anyway. Everybody on our Camino is gone and we´re left with the tennis lady and such, so it´s really an easy call.
We have met a great little family, but they too are hoteling it since they walk slower with the boys. I think I mentioned the mom and dad walking with their 12 and 7 year old sons. Alberto, the 12 year old is serious, and Jorge, the 7 year old is just the cutest kid, after Max, naturally. Whenever we´re together he always comes down and sits with me. He watches me do my cross word puzzles, and practices his English. Only seven, he´s already had two years and his pronunciation isn´t bad. You can see the wheels turn in his little head as he tries to put sentences together. I show him my map and elevation charts and we talk about what is ahead of us the following day. It isn´t a far jump for me to think that in just a few years, I will be able to do the same with Max. I can hardly wait!!
Their first day on the Camino was the climb to O Cebreiro. Mom and dad were exhausted, but the boys were full of energy and spirit. Each day, however, that energy has sapped as the physical drain of day after day began to take its toll. Last night when we saw them, Jorge was so exhausted he was just one frown away from breaking totally down. We saw them later in a pastry shop (Carol´s trying to fatten me up) and he bounded up to me from behind with the spirit and energy I love to see. Amazing what a little sugar in the body will do for you:-)
Sofia and Christina are two young Spanish women we shared a room with in O Cebreiro. We left before they had gotten up in the morning, and two nights ago, the last night we stayed in a refugio, as I was writing my letter, they found Carol and informed her that I had left my pants in the room and that they had been looking for us for four nights, carrying these things around with them asking everybody: "do you know the American couple? He´s tall with a beard........." I had gotten my clean pair of pants out to wear (the others weren´t really dirty, I´d only worn them for 10 days) and so hadn´t thought about them. Getting dressed and packed, as I have said before, in the dark is a recipe for errors. Anyway, it was really sweet of them to not just throw them away, but rather to carry extra weight so that someone else might not suffer. Such is the spirit of the Camino.
Carol has been unexpectedly pleased and surprised on occasion when we´ve come across people selling cherries or raspberries. Sometimes just a little honor box for you to leave a Euro, sometimes a roadside stand like you´d find at home. Give that woman a chance for some fresh fruit and it´s enough lift her spirits for the day.
One day about a week ago, we were walking through this very economically depressed village and out pops a little lady with a fresh batch of crepes which she makes for the pilgrims. Giving encouragement, she sprinkles powdered sugar on them and you can take one, roll it up for a really nice surprise and treat. She didn´t ask for money, but did say if we wanted to leave a donation, that would be nice too.
Over and over again, we have been touched by the simple acts of kindness and encouragements. The Camino is not well known in the States, but it´s a major deal here. On the night we had Garlic soup at the monetary; they went around and asked nationalities, there were 16 different countries represented. The biggest laugh was when one man answered that he was from: "Pais vasco," Basque country. The Camino is officially one of Europe’s cultural itineraries.
As we walked today, we reflected on moments we have enjoyed on the Camino. There were so many, certainly too many to list here, but we could play the game: "What happened on the day we travelled from point a to point b. Each response by one of us brought a flood of memories from the other. Details which one of us had forgotten were filled in by the other. It seems like just a short time ago we actually started, and yet, it seems like such a long time ago with each day filled with its own memories. There are no lost days on the Camino. Each day is vibrant and alive. Each day is special and meaningful. Even the day to O Cebreiro in the rain is something we treasure (now that it´s done). There was the group of people out picking up snails on the road one morning, no big chore, they´re every where. I think they were lost pilgrims who bogged down in exhaustion, but that´s another story. There was the herd of goats through which we passed. Carol naturally engaged the goat herder in conversation and before she was through was offered one to take home. Try one of those as carry on luggage. And of course the people all along the way.
God, what a memorable experience for us. I haven´t been able in any measure to express in these letters how much it has meant to us, but it´s truly everything we had hoped it would be. And now with two, hopefully, easy days ahead, we can finally think of the culmination of the dream and quest.
I´ll try to write one last time tomorrow before reaching Santiago. Certainly I´ll have something to say upon arrival. So in the mean while, a safe and happy weekend for all of you. It certainly seems to fit for us as well.
Love to all,
Carol and Jim
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