Dear Family and Friends,
I am back in Vancouver writing this in the wee small hours of the morning because I am still on European time. It feels very good to be home. Jim met me at the airport with a beautiful huge red rose, and I was so happy to see him. When Jim comes to the airport to pick me up, he usually has brought Kobie, so I was very aware of his absence, and our home felt very empty without his wagging tail and quiet loving presence.
There were all the usual airport hassles leaving Santiago - discovering that if I did not have a printed boarding pass at the airport they charged me an extra 40 euros! No seats were assigned, so it was first come first served, and an hour late, which meant I missed the hotel shuttle. I felt bad for the taxi driver when I told him where I was going- I know from Vancouver that after waiting in line for some time, they want a passenger going a long way, so he was not too happy at going to an airport hotel. Once at the hotel, which I had chosen because it had wifi - found it was not working. But the person at the desk allowed me to use the office computer to check into my airline and print out my boarding passes for Vancouver. All worked well and I left Madrid for London, then London to Vancouver. Once again, the plane was an hour late, and I was afraid I might not make my connection in London; however, I was delighted to learn that there was an hour's difference between London and the European countries I was visiting, so there was plenty of time.
So now I am home, and many say this is when the real Camino begins. I long to walk, and I must say, that although I am VERY sick of wearing the same thing every day for 7 weeks, I LOVED the simplicity. Perhaps it is time to reread Ann Morrow Lindberg's "Gift From the Sea." I look forward to seeing the rest of my family, Nina, Nicole and their families. Avery turns 3 today, and I know all the grandchildren have been following my journey on the map. They have all started school and I can't imagine how big the babies are now.
I want to say a big THANK YOU to all of you who have been following this journey with me. Although there all all these amazing experiences and people along the way, being a long way from home - knowing that you have been following my journey has been a great sense of support for me.
I also thank those who sent me emails and comments, they were an important touchstone for me. along the way.
I also would like to say thank you for being so generous in your receiving of my posts - such as they were. Many times I wrote them after a long day, so they may have been pretty raw. Also, many were written on my Iphone which I found challenging. Many times I could not scroll freely up and down the entire post, so many times there were "trailers" of comments that got lost and I did not see them, nor seemingly have access to them and they became part of the post.
And so, we are all onto a new chapter - there is always the space after the big event, the Olympics, the Tour de France, each of our journeys - now there is an opportunity to meet with what comes next on the path. It will take me a while to let all this settle. I get flashes of different places and various people I have met along the way. There are a few people I would have liked to have connected with at the end, but everyone follows their own timing, so it does not always fall according to our own plan. Our lives are often changed by those we meet, and a journey such as the Camino seems to bring together people who are open and searching, so that connections are real and honest. As often comes with journeys away, there is a re-evaluating of how one lives one's life on a daily basis. New experiences present us with different ways of being from which we make our choices. I feel privileged to have walked this path.
For such a profound a journey, it is difficult to find the words to do it justice. But now it is time to gather my experiences, collect my pictures - learn how to properly organize them..... and also to catch up on much of the history I passed through. I found it impossible many times to "know" or follow up on much of what was under my nose because I was just trying to survive or was just simply too tired. Also, many of the churches were closed much of the time. It is such a rich part of the country with a very long history, so it may well take a very long time to integrate, but I do know that what I experienced was very rich and very special.
And of course, my family, particularly Jim picked up many many pieces while I was away, and my BodySoul Conference Committee group has accomplished much in my absence. I am grateful to each one of you.
So for all of us, let us now move onto the next chapter. In thanksgiving and blessings from my Camino journey. Heather
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Santiago/ Finisterre
Dear Family and Friends,
My next day in Santiago began once again bright and early, and the sun was shining. I found that rising early is a pattern I am used to and I miss the simplicity of the regular schedule of walking from one place to another. However, there were several things I wanted to accomplish before the crowds grew. After breakfast I went to the Porto de Perdun, ( a door open only in a holy year. On December 31, it will close and not open again until 2021- the next time July 25 falls on a Sunday) to stand in line to visit St. James, one of the rituals of arrival. Because of arriving on a Sunday in a busy holy year, with massive crowds, many of us did not accomplish this on the day of our arrival.
As I stood on the steps waiting my turn, I was surprised at how emotional I was feeling. Once again the reality of the tradition, of all who had come before me for centuries, of all that the journey entailed to get to this point came together in my realization of what was about to occur. I took my turn at the bejeweled back of St. James and gave him a big hug of thanksgiving for all that brought me to this point. With many waiting behind me, there was no lingering, and I proceeded to the crypt where his tomb is held. There was a priest saying mass with many people standing in the small entrance. I stayed for a bit, paid my respects and moved on. I then went up into the church and kneeled in a pew close to the altar and spent some time in prayer for all those for whom I was bringing along with me, as well as my own prayers garnered over the past month. I would return a bit later for the noon mass, so left the church and headed for the Post Office where I would retrieve my sleeping bag which I had sent from Belorado to lighten my load. It is not uncommon to have to wait in line for some time, but arriving early, I was able to complete my business quickly. I returned to the hotel to lighten my load since there were restrictions on what could be brought into the Cathedral.
I returned at 11:00 for the noon Mass, and the pews were full! I did find a good place to stand close to the altar. It gave me a good amount of time to observe the cathedral, which is massive. There is much scaffolding inside in preparation for the Pope's visit on November 6. The Botafumeiro was stationary (a very large vessel containing incense which is suspended from the ceiling on a rope and swung to release the scent in the church ) (My apologies for those who of are the Roman Catholic tradition - being raised a Presbyterian then an Anglican, I might not have an adequate explanation here) , again because of the preparations for the Pope's visit. The altar where St. James sits is massive and very Baroque. You could see the people moving through giving St. James his hug as we waited for the Mass to begin.
I was also amused to see some politics in the pews. The pews were filled, 5 abreast; however, there was the occasional spot vacant. Many people would come up asking about the space, then would go away. For one couple, this was too much, and they proceeded to sit in one of the pews, separated by the one person holding the seat. My imagination took flight on what might have been said or thought by those involved..... By the time noon arrived, the church was packed, and this was a monday. A nun had come out earlier, coaching the congregation on many musical responses that would be used during the mass, so there was that sense of community that occurs with voices coming together. I found myself joining in even though I did not know the words, but the responses are very similar in an Anglican Communion.
The procession involved many priests and there were at least two Bishops; one I believe might have been the Archbishop. The countries of the pilgrims who had arrived the day before were read out, and once again, I felt that wave of being part of a very big and very old tradition. Even though I have many thoughts and opinions about many of our Patriarchal structures including the church, in that moment, I felt very much a part of what was happening, and felt very moved to be represented in that way. So too, when the Archbishop spoke to the pilgrims,( for each of these masses is a pilgrim's mass,) he was very animated and warm in his spoken word and body language. Even though I did not know what he was saying, it felt very inclusive and I was very moved by taking part.
Throughout the day as I moved around the city, I met many of my traveling partners I had met along the way. I was very cognizant though of my time coming to a close,and I spent the rest of the day on my own preparing to leave.
The next morning I headed for Finisterre by bus with many others doing the same thing. This is a place known by the Celts and the Romans as "the end of the world," as they would see the sun dropping into the sea each night - the Atlantic Ocean.
If anyone out there is considering walking the Camino, I would strongly suggest you consider leaving enough time to walk to Finisterre and spend a few days there. At this time, we have been graced with magnificent weather, quite unusual for Galicia, I understand, for they get a good deal of rain, much like Ireland and Vancouver. I would have loved to experience when you begin to get a scent of the sea while you walk through the wooded terrain.
It took 2 1/2 hours to drive there, much of it through coastal towns. Once again, there were several returning to Santiago whom I had met enroute. At one stop, a French Canadian couple I had met several times got on the bus. We stopped to talk once in Finisterre and I learned that Marie Claude had done the entire Camino several years ago all the way to Finisterre, and for her, arriving in Finisterre was the real sense of completion. Her husband Dominique wanted to experience the Camino with her, so for the past 3 years, they have been coming and doing a section, beginning in La Puy. Because this was a Holy Year, they decided to begin at Burgos and go to Santiago, and next year they will return to St. Jean Pied de Port to walk to Burgos.
From the town of Finnisterre, it is another 2-3 km. to the lighthouse. I was feeling very tired when I arrived, but spending time down by the beach, I felt a "call to go to experience the fulness of this last stage. I am so happy I did. Standing on the cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, I found it brought a different kind of completion that extended beyond Santiago. I would have loved to have had time to spend there, like a woman we met from Brisbane Australia, who was spending a couple of days there relaxing, reading a book and basking in the sun. But for me, I had spend my time otherwise before the Camino, so was very ready to return home to my family.
Marie Claude, and Dominique finally got to meet Suzie and Pierre as we descended from the O.O km marker. All along the route they had been asked if they had met Suzie and Pierre from Quebec. It was lovely to see them again and give and get one last hug. Each couple are heading to other parts of Europe for a final holiday before returning to Quebec. Marie Claude, Dominique and I had a beautiful seafood dinner with delicious white wine looking out at the Atlantic Ocean before we had to return to Santiago. It was a wonderful way for me to bring a close to my Camino journey because I was flying that night to Madrid from where I would depart for Vancouver the next day. Heather
My next day in Santiago began once again bright and early, and the sun was shining. I found that rising early is a pattern I am used to and I miss the simplicity of the regular schedule of walking from one place to another. However, there were several things I wanted to accomplish before the crowds grew. After breakfast I went to the Porto de Perdun, ( a door open only in a holy year. On December 31, it will close and not open again until 2021- the next time July 25 falls on a Sunday) to stand in line to visit St. James, one of the rituals of arrival. Because of arriving on a Sunday in a busy holy year, with massive crowds, many of us did not accomplish this on the day of our arrival.
As I stood on the steps waiting my turn, I was surprised at how emotional I was feeling. Once again the reality of the tradition, of all who had come before me for centuries, of all that the journey entailed to get to this point came together in my realization of what was about to occur. I took my turn at the bejeweled back of St. James and gave him a big hug of thanksgiving for all that brought me to this point. With many waiting behind me, there was no lingering, and I proceeded to the crypt where his tomb is held. There was a priest saying mass with many people standing in the small entrance. I stayed for a bit, paid my respects and moved on. I then went up into the church and kneeled in a pew close to the altar and spent some time in prayer for all those for whom I was bringing along with me, as well as my own prayers garnered over the past month. I would return a bit later for the noon mass, so left the church and headed for the Post Office where I would retrieve my sleeping bag which I had sent from Belorado to lighten my load. It is not uncommon to have to wait in line for some time, but arriving early, I was able to complete my business quickly. I returned to the hotel to lighten my load since there were restrictions on what could be brought into the Cathedral.
I returned at 11:00 for the noon Mass, and the pews were full! I did find a good place to stand close to the altar. It gave me a good amount of time to observe the cathedral, which is massive. There is much scaffolding inside in preparation for the Pope's visit on November 6. The Botafumeiro was stationary (a very large vessel containing incense which is suspended from the ceiling on a rope and swung to release the scent in the church ) (My apologies for those who of are the Roman Catholic tradition - being raised a Presbyterian then an Anglican, I might not have an adequate explanation here) , again because of the preparations for the Pope's visit. The altar where St. James sits is massive and very Baroque. You could see the people moving through giving St. James his hug as we waited for the Mass to begin.
I was also amused to see some politics in the pews. The pews were filled, 5 abreast; however, there was the occasional spot vacant. Many people would come up asking about the space, then would go away. For one couple, this was too much, and they proceeded to sit in one of the pews, separated by the one person holding the seat. My imagination took flight on what might have been said or thought by those involved..... By the time noon arrived, the church was packed, and this was a monday. A nun had come out earlier, coaching the congregation on many musical responses that would be used during the mass, so there was that sense of community that occurs with voices coming together. I found myself joining in even though I did not know the words, but the responses are very similar in an Anglican Communion.
The procession involved many priests and there were at least two Bishops; one I believe might have been the Archbishop. The countries of the pilgrims who had arrived the day before were read out, and once again, I felt that wave of being part of a very big and very old tradition. Even though I have many thoughts and opinions about many of our Patriarchal structures including the church, in that moment, I felt very much a part of what was happening, and felt very moved to be represented in that way. So too, when the Archbishop spoke to the pilgrims,( for each of these masses is a pilgrim's mass,) he was very animated and warm in his spoken word and body language. Even though I did not know what he was saying, it felt very inclusive and I was very moved by taking part.
Throughout the day as I moved around the city, I met many of my traveling partners I had met along the way. I was very cognizant though of my time coming to a close,and I spent the rest of the day on my own preparing to leave.
The next morning I headed for Finisterre by bus with many others doing the same thing. This is a place known by the Celts and the Romans as "the end of the world," as they would see the sun dropping into the sea each night - the Atlantic Ocean.
If anyone out there is considering walking the Camino, I would strongly suggest you consider leaving enough time to walk to Finisterre and spend a few days there. At this time, we have been graced with magnificent weather, quite unusual for Galicia, I understand, for they get a good deal of rain, much like Ireland and Vancouver. I would have loved to experience when you begin to get a scent of the sea while you walk through the wooded terrain.
It took 2 1/2 hours to drive there, much of it through coastal towns. Once again, there were several returning to Santiago whom I had met enroute. At one stop, a French Canadian couple I had met several times got on the bus. We stopped to talk once in Finisterre and I learned that Marie Claude had done the entire Camino several years ago all the way to Finisterre, and for her, arriving in Finisterre was the real sense of completion. Her husband Dominique wanted to experience the Camino with her, so for the past 3 years, they have been coming and doing a section, beginning in La Puy. Because this was a Holy Year, they decided to begin at Burgos and go to Santiago, and next year they will return to St. Jean Pied de Port to walk to Burgos.
From the town of Finnisterre, it is another 2-3 km. to the lighthouse. I was feeling very tired when I arrived, but spending time down by the beach, I felt a "call to go to experience the fulness of this last stage. I am so happy I did. Standing on the cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, I found it brought a different kind of completion that extended beyond Santiago. I would have loved to have had time to spend there, like a woman we met from Brisbane Australia, who was spending a couple of days there relaxing, reading a book and basking in the sun. But for me, I had spend my time otherwise before the Camino, so was very ready to return home to my family.
Marie Claude, and Dominique finally got to meet Suzie and Pierre as we descended from the O.O km marker. All along the route they had been asked if they had met Suzie and Pierre from Quebec. It was lovely to see them again and give and get one last hug. Each couple are heading to other parts of Europe for a final holiday before returning to Quebec. Marie Claude, Dominique and I had a beautiful seafood dinner with delicious white wine looking out at the Atlantic Ocean before we had to return to Santiago. It was a wonderful way for me to bring a close to my Camino journey because I was flying that night to Madrid from where I would depart for Vancouver the next day. Heather
Monday, October 18, 2010
Santiago
Dear Family and Friends
Afterall sleepless night, I decided to get up early and head to Santiago. The grief had been overwhelming. Due to the time change, it seemed as though Kobie had died on the anniversary of my fathers death-an uncanny coincidence. Once again there was a merging of experience, as I grieved for Kobie, I was digging into wells of grief for my father.
I left the hotel at 6:30 in the dark. The stars shone like diamonds. Usually when I left in the dark, I was walking on the road or in open space. Thus time, however, I was walking in the woods and even in a tunnel. I was struck that I did not feel scared and felt as though unseen forces were guiding and protecting me.
In theapy and bodysoul work, we talk about creating a safe container so that the person can safely do the work that is needed for the soul to come alive. I believe the long history and deep respect the Camino garners in Spain, and indeed all over the world, created the sense of safety I felt as I walked through unfamiliar territory in the dark. Strange that it is something I would never consider at home. I could hear a stream trickling along beside me at one point, and I knew from hearing planes that I was nearing the airport. At one point I think I might have startled some wildlife, but we each seemed to respect the others space. Darkness seemed to hold my grief and it felt right to be walking on the dark. It was also comforting to have the many markings and guideposts that are all along the camino to lead me.
By daybreak I had covered half my distance. I stopped for some hot chocolate and a croissant, then continued on to Santiago.
At Monte do Gozo where at one time you could see the church spires, now the view is obscured by trees. Several tour buses were letting people off who were walking down the hill and the 5km through town to the Cathedral. In the midst of all these people, it slowly seeped in what I had accomplished. It felt a bit surreal, but my step was sure and steady as I walked from the new town into the winding streets of the old town. I passed the piper at the underpass. His German Shepherd lying faithfully at his feet. I arrived around 11am.
There were asses of people streaming through the streets. It was Sunday, and the end of a week of National celebration if people had taken several days off from Tuesdays holiday.
The Cathedral was massive- opening onto at least 3 different squares- and the square at the cathedral entrance was packed with people. I was totally overwhelmed.
I did meet o young South Korean woman I had met many times and she suggested I go get my compostella before the line got too long, which I did eventually get to. It took the better part of an hour waiting in line with other pilgrims from many different countries. The man ahead of me had come also from the Northern route all on horseback.
Compostella in hand, I went to find my hotel because you could not get into the cathedral with a pack. I eventually found my hotel, a quaint little hotel close to the old town with very helpful staff. I headed into town and made my wayinto the cathedral. There were so many
people, I could not relate to any of it at this point, so I left. I found a group of people sitting in the sun having a drink, so I joined and was reassured that others felt the same way. The line to get into the entrance, puerta del Perdon,to see Saint James,is an hour long. It is only open during a Holy Year, which this is, and which is why it is such a zoo. We take some photos and I ask a friend to take some photos of me at the front of the church since I didn't do that when I arrived. A group of us had planned to meet at the fountain at 3 pm. Meeting everyone who gradually were appearing had the feel of a graduation - all of us successfully arriving after all our trials and long trek.
I had dinner with my two Dutch friends, Vered and Joost, and Peter from Denmark - Indian because we are all sick if SpAmish food at this point. When we walked back, Vered went in one direction to her hotel and Joost, walking along met up with our New Zealand friend who was looking for her son. We went into an Irish pub for a drink and met up with two young women from Squamish and Glasgow Scotland, and a young man from Holland. All had left from St Jean Pied de Port. It was a grand evening. We shared many experiences, and I shared with them my sadness about Kobie. Perhaps it was a bit of a wake. I left for home in the wee small hours of the morning.
I will wait for tomorrow to write about my day in Santiago - after my trip by bus to Finisterre. Buenas Nochas. Heather
Afterall sleepless night, I decided to get up early and head to Santiago. The grief had been overwhelming. Due to the time change, it seemed as though Kobie had died on the anniversary of my fathers death-an uncanny coincidence. Once again there was a merging of experience, as I grieved for Kobie, I was digging into wells of grief for my father.
I left the hotel at 6:30 in the dark. The stars shone like diamonds. Usually when I left in the dark, I was walking on the road or in open space. Thus time, however, I was walking in the woods and even in a tunnel. I was struck that I did not feel scared and felt as though unseen forces were guiding and protecting me.
In theapy and bodysoul work, we talk about creating a safe container so that the person can safely do the work that is needed for the soul to come alive. I believe the long history and deep respect the Camino garners in Spain, and indeed all over the world, created the sense of safety I felt as I walked through unfamiliar territory in the dark. Strange that it is something I would never consider at home. I could hear a stream trickling along beside me at one point, and I knew from hearing planes that I was nearing the airport. At one point I think I might have startled some wildlife, but we each seemed to respect the others space. Darkness seemed to hold my grief and it felt right to be walking on the dark. It was also comforting to have the many markings and guideposts that are all along the camino to lead me.
By daybreak I had covered half my distance. I stopped for some hot chocolate and a croissant, then continued on to Santiago.
At Monte do Gozo where at one time you could see the church spires, now the view is obscured by trees. Several tour buses were letting people off who were walking down the hill and the 5km through town to the Cathedral. In the midst of all these people, it slowly seeped in what I had accomplished. It felt a bit surreal, but my step was sure and steady as I walked from the new town into the winding streets of the old town. I passed the piper at the underpass. His German Shepherd lying faithfully at his feet. I arrived around 11am.
There were asses of people streaming through the streets. It was Sunday, and the end of a week of National celebration if people had taken several days off from Tuesdays holiday.
The Cathedral was massive- opening onto at least 3 different squares- and the square at the cathedral entrance was packed with people. I was totally overwhelmed.
I did meet o young South Korean woman I had met many times and she suggested I go get my compostella before the line got too long, which I did eventually get to. It took the better part of an hour waiting in line with other pilgrims from many different countries. The man ahead of me had come also from the Northern route all on horseback.
Compostella in hand, I went to find my hotel because you could not get into the cathedral with a pack. I eventually found my hotel, a quaint little hotel close to the old town with very helpful staff. I headed into town and made my wayinto the cathedral. There were so many
people, I could not relate to any of it at this point, so I left. I found a group of people sitting in the sun having a drink, so I joined and was reassured that others felt the same way. The line to get into the entrance, puerta del Perdon,to see Saint James,is an hour long. It is only open during a Holy Year, which this is, and which is why it is such a zoo. We take some photos and I ask a friend to take some photos of me at the front of the church since I didn't do that when I arrived. A group of us had planned to meet at the fountain at 3 pm. Meeting everyone who gradually were appearing had the feel of a graduation - all of us successfully arriving after all our trials and long trek.
I had dinner with my two Dutch friends, Vered and Joost, and Peter from Denmark - Indian because we are all sick if SpAmish food at this point. When we walked back, Vered went in one direction to her hotel and Joost, walking along met up with our New Zealand friend who was looking for her son. We went into an Irish pub for a drink and met up with two young women from Squamish and Glasgow Scotland, and a young man from Holland. All had left from St Jean Pied de Port. It was a grand evening. We shared many experiences, and I shared with them my sadness about Kobie. Perhaps it was a bit of a wake. I left for home in the wee small hours of the morning.
I will wait for tomorrow to write about my day in Santiago - after my trip by bus to Finisterre. Buenas Nochas. Heather
Arzua/ Amenal
Dear Family and Friends
note: I tried to make a post in Amenal - twice- and lost them both due to Skitterish wifi.
It was a cold and sunny day when I left Arzua though I left in the dark with a waxing half moon.
It was a beautiful sunrise, always behind us since we are steadily heading west.
The birds were singing, and there were plentiful babbling brooks. The first part of the morning was in the woods withUg considerable up and downs. Interestingly enough, there were many eucalyptus trees thin and towering above the oaks and pines. They were introduced several years ago and apparently many groves of oak were replaced with eucalyptus. They have not worked out as hoped, but many remain. I love the woods and was very happy to see that the crowds had thinned out considerably. I stopped a couple of times to reflect and to do some writing. After stopping for a hot chocolate the terrain changed to a very pastoral valley of farms and fields. Many cows and a few horses.
As this was the day my father died many years ago,
he was in the foreground of my thoughts. I noticed two people walking in front of me- an older man and a young woman. As I passed them I stopped to talk. They were from Germany - from Cologne- father and daughter. She was going into banking and had 2 weeks off. As I moved
ahead, I shed a few tears, feeling the loss but also feeling the amaZing workings of the
universe. And if that wasn't enough, I bumped into them at least 5 times in town as we all
waited for dinner time. I was trying to discern what the universe was trying to tell me. I
thought perhaps I might get a dream to fill in some blanks.
But no, I did not.
While in Arzua, I met up with my friend Sheila from Ireland. She had walked over 30km from
Palas de Rei and got her first blister on the Camino! We had dinner together, along with Chris
from Victoria. It was good to get caught up.
The next morning I left Arzua early again since it was a longer day than I had had for the
past two. I had some hotchocolate before I left, then stopped at the bakery and picked up a
delicious chocolate croissant to eat on the way. ( I'm going to be in trouble
when I stop walking- no more chocolate croissants! :)! It was quite cool and dark, but I
could see that the pathway was lined with white hydrangeas that shone like beacons in the
night. I was continuing to reflect on the father and daughter I had met the day before. A
little bird with a sweet little song seemed to follow me as I walked. The terrain was once
again rolling hills, wooded paths, babbling Brooks, and farming country. The sunrise was
spectacular accentuated by the elevation we had just climbed
and mist hung in the valleys as a huge fireball began to rise from the horizon. Several of
stopped to take a photo.
I began to realize as I walked that what I was trying to understand and capture from the
German father and daughter was right under my nose. In a similar way that in meditating when
focusing on two trees, they join into one, so did I realize that the gift of this father and
daughter was that they were in fact my father and I, walking side byside as I walked across
Spain, and I felt his presence in my heart as I had not before. My heart felt much lighter and
my senses were heightened. I became more and more aware of the little bird who seemed to be
following me for the past two days.
This poem, "Redbird Explains Himself," from Mary Oliver kept coming to me as I walked. Marian
(I think) read it in our Chicago BSR conference working group and I wrote it down.
Part of it reads:
"If I was the song that entered your heart
Then I was the music of your heart that you wanted and needed,
and this wilderness bloomed there,
with all it's followers: gardeners, lovers, people who weep for the death of rivers.
And this is my true task, to be the music of the body.
Do you understand? For truly the body needs
a song, a spirit, a soul
And no less to make this work,
the soul has need of a body,
and I am both of the earth
and I am of the inexplicable beauty of heaven
where I fly so easily
so welcome, yes
And this is why I have been sent
To teach this to your heart. "
This poem really seems to speak to what much of my Camino has been about.
This day I came behind an older German woman whom I had met in passing and a tall younger man whom I assumed was also German. Inspite of his height he had a slow smooth stride which seemed to match hers. As I came up to them and spoke, I was surprised to learn that he was Spanish, though he had very polished English. He had walked the Northern route which met up with the Frances route, having taken 10 days. He was a young father, and when I mentioned my granddaughters birthday, he was upset to realize he had forgotten tophonr hiswife and daughter since this was their saint's birthday. He explained that when they are born each person is given a saint and they also celebrate their saints birthday. His saint is Santiago, which was why he was walking to Santiago.
The German woman was a very spirited 75 year old, who has walked all over the world. She hurt her toe at the castle in Ponferrada and thought she might have broken it, but refused to go to the doctor beause she thought he would tell her to stop walking. They were delightful walking partners, and we walked together till noon when Crystal and I neededto stop for lunch. Jaime continued walking to Santiago that day which would be about40+ km.
The day went by quickly and I reached Amenal around 3pm. I had my main meal soon after my shower and laundry. There were 3 families there with 2 and 3 year olds. They were a delight to watch and I realized how much I missed my grandchildren.
When I returned to my room, I connected with my email and learned that my/our dear Chocolate Lab Kobie had died. My heart was torn to pieces. He gas been sick, but I had hoped he would still be there when I returned. It was not to be.
I did focus enough to write a blog, but after twice losing all I had written, I gave up and went to bed early. Tomorrow I would be in Santiago.
Heather
note: I tried to make a post in Amenal - twice- and lost them both due to Skitterish wifi.
It was a cold and sunny day when I left Arzua though I left in the dark with a waxing half moon.
It was a beautiful sunrise, always behind us since we are steadily heading west.
The birds were singing, and there were plentiful babbling brooks. The first part of the morning was in the woods withUg considerable up and downs. Interestingly enough, there were many eucalyptus trees thin and towering above the oaks and pines. They were introduced several years ago and apparently many groves of oak were replaced with eucalyptus. They have not worked out as hoped, but many remain. I love the woods and was very happy to see that the crowds had thinned out considerably. I stopped a couple of times to reflect and to do some writing. After stopping for a hot chocolate the terrain changed to a very pastoral valley of farms and fields. Many cows and a few horses.
As this was the day my father died many years ago,
he was in the foreground of my thoughts. I noticed two people walking in front of me- an older man and a young woman. As I passed them I stopped to talk. They were from Germany - from Cologne- father and daughter. She was going into banking and had 2 weeks off. As I moved
ahead, I shed a few tears, feeling the loss but also feeling the amaZing workings of the
universe. And if that wasn't enough, I bumped into them at least 5 times in town as we all
waited for dinner time. I was trying to discern what the universe was trying to tell me. I
thought perhaps I might get a dream to fill in some blanks.
But no, I did not.
While in Arzua, I met up with my friend Sheila from Ireland. She had walked over 30km from
Palas de Rei and got her first blister on the Camino! We had dinner together, along with Chris
from Victoria. It was good to get caught up.
The next morning I left Arzua early again since it was a longer day than I had had for the
past two. I had some hotchocolate before I left, then stopped at the bakery and picked up a
delicious chocolate croissant to eat on the way. ( I'm going to be in trouble
when I stop walking- no more chocolate croissants! :)! It was quite cool and dark, but I
could see that the pathway was lined with white hydrangeas that shone like beacons in the
night. I was continuing to reflect on the father and daughter I had met the day before. A
little bird with a sweet little song seemed to follow me as I walked. The terrain was once
again rolling hills, wooded paths, babbling Brooks, and farming country. The sunrise was
spectacular accentuated by the elevation we had just climbed
and mist hung in the valleys as a huge fireball began to rise from the horizon. Several of
stopped to take a photo.
I began to realize as I walked that what I was trying to understand and capture from the
German father and daughter was right under my nose. In a similar way that in meditating when
focusing on two trees, they join into one, so did I realize that the gift of this father and
daughter was that they were in fact my father and I, walking side byside as I walked across
Spain, and I felt his presence in my heart as I had not before. My heart felt much lighter and
my senses were heightened. I became more and more aware of the little bird who seemed to be
following me for the past two days.
This poem, "Redbird Explains Himself," from Mary Oliver kept coming to me as I walked. Marian
(I think) read it in our Chicago BSR conference working group and I wrote it down.
Part of it reads:
"If I was the song that entered your heart
Then I was the music of your heart that you wanted and needed,
and this wilderness bloomed there,
with all it's followers: gardeners, lovers, people who weep for the death of rivers.
And this is my true task, to be the music of the body.
Do you understand? For truly the body needs
a song, a spirit, a soul
And no less to make this work,
the soul has need of a body,
and I am both of the earth
and I am of the inexplicable beauty of heaven
where I fly so easily
so welcome, yes
And this is why I have been sent
To teach this to your heart. "
This poem really seems to speak to what much of my Camino has been about.
This day I came behind an older German woman whom I had met in passing and a tall younger man whom I assumed was also German. Inspite of his height he had a slow smooth stride which seemed to match hers. As I came up to them and spoke, I was surprised to learn that he was Spanish, though he had very polished English. He had walked the Northern route which met up with the Frances route, having taken 10 days. He was a young father, and when I mentioned my granddaughters birthday, he was upset to realize he had forgotten tophonr hiswife and daughter since this was their saint's birthday. He explained that when they are born each person is given a saint and they also celebrate their saints birthday. His saint is Santiago, which was why he was walking to Santiago.
The German woman was a very spirited 75 year old, who has walked all over the world. She hurt her toe at the castle in Ponferrada and thought she might have broken it, but refused to go to the doctor beause she thought he would tell her to stop walking. They were delightful walking partners, and we walked together till noon when Crystal and I neededto stop for lunch. Jaime continued walking to Santiago that day which would be about40+ km.
The day went by quickly and I reached Amenal around 3pm. I had my main meal soon after my shower and laundry. There were 3 families there with 2 and 3 year olds. They were a delight to watch and I realized how much I missed my grandchildren.
When I returned to my room, I connected with my email and learned that my/our dear Chocolate Lab Kobie had died. My heart was torn to pieces. He gas been sick, but I had hoped he would still be there when I returned. It was not to be.
I did focus enough to write a blog, but after twice losing all I had written, I gave up and went to bed early. Tomorrow I would be in Santiago.
Heather
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Palas de Rei/ Melide
Dear Family and Friends
You can always count on the "universe" to balance things out lest I get lost in Wonderland. Humbling days are tough days - for ego sensibilities - the burning of which is necessary to get to the heart of the soul- but none-the-less painful. I have learned to beware of strong reactions - they lead to a wounded place calling out for healing. I still seared with indignation at the high cost of a humble room. It's tenaciousness made me aware of how attached I am to beautiful surroundings, provoked by the anticipation of what was to come knowing the cost beforehand. The magnificence of nature through which I walked was obviously not enough. I wanted it all.
I was humbled when Suzie ( my French Canadian friend) told me that a group of elders from France was walking the camino - at least one was 83. In earlier days they were transported by vehicle part of the way, after Sarria, they were walking on their own power - and they were staying in albergues! That small crack in my resolve to stay in hostals and pensiones was wretched open by this piece of information. (Now I did learn tonight that this elderly woman fell in the middle of the night and my friend Vered ( from Holland) tried to help her up and the woman was so stubborn and determined she wanted to stay on the floor. Vered did manage to get her back to her bed...life certainly is not dull on the camino).
Another thing I have learned about strong reactions is that it is seldom the thing that provokes the reaction that is the source. Search a little deeper and you can often find the real cause of the reaction. One gift of walking the camino is that you cannot avoid such things with busyness. The fact that such a situation triggered my Scottish sensibilities was a key. My father died 42 years ago tomorrow - and there have been rumblings on this journey that there is still work to do there. Here I cannot ignore my body- the signals that come when I follow that initial reaction - the heaviness of heart, the deep sadness.... feelings that something that is not quite right with the world. And so I walk - one step in front of the other allowing the messages deep inside my body a chance to speak.
Another humbling lesson is that of language. When I arrived at my Pension yesterday I stated like I usually so in my limited Spanish "reserv(b)a. and I got a barrage of Spanish back. "No Spanish! Completo! (full). I managed to spit out enough Spanish words that he eventually processed my reservation and gave me the keys to my room, but my ego was definitely bruised and I did not feel welcomed after a long walk. All the Spanish people had been so gracious this far. (I did learn that an Australian couple last week and another Canadian from Victoria (also last night) also experienced the same thing- and she speaks Spanish.
However, there is another side to this story. I have met/walked and talked at length with several young Spanish men - all in English so they can practice their English. I recogniZed that this rude and obstreperous man was giving me the invitation and perhaps the motivation should I choose to accept- that I could try a little harder to learn Spanish.
The path yesterday and today are beautiful rolling hills, interesting little villages, trickling Brooks and sunshine. There is a breeze and nip in the air- definitely fall, but beautiful.
The numbers on the path keep increasing. Spanish people are in the majority. But your heart goes out to them - you can see that many of them are hurting. Their bodies have so little time to adjust to the rigors of walking when they are soon at their destination. One young Spanish man with whom I walked with yesterday was having similar problems that I had. I shared some of what I learned about thin socks, tying the boot higher etc. You could see his resistance to what I said - a bit like his mother telling him. However, he had over 30km to do today. I saw him as I arrived into Melide and he was delighted with his day so far. He had on thin socks and tied his boot higher. I had to chuckle to myself. I hope he has a Buen Camino all the way to Santiago.
Another group that is moving through the Camino like the babyboomers are in time, is a class from highschool. It has a similar feel to me as our kids when they went through the Trek outdoors program in grade 10. They definitely bring another energy to the path. I spoke with two of them waiting to use the loo. They had both studied in the US for several months and spoke very good English. They and most Spanish are astounded when you respond that you started in France. Those of us seem to be swallowed up here.
So until tomorrow in Arzua- if I have internet. Goodnight. Heather.
Melide is famous for it's Pulpo- boiled octopus with Paprika and olive oil -like I had in O Cebreiro. I went with Vered and Chris, a woman I just met from Victoria. It was a lovely evening. We will have another short day tomorrow to Arzua, famous for a special soft cheese.
You can always count on the "universe" to balance things out lest I get lost in Wonderland. Humbling days are tough days - for ego sensibilities - the burning of which is necessary to get to the heart of the soul- but none-the-less painful. I have learned to beware of strong reactions - they lead to a wounded place calling out for healing. I still seared with indignation at the high cost of a humble room. It's tenaciousness made me aware of how attached I am to beautiful surroundings, provoked by the anticipation of what was to come knowing the cost beforehand. The magnificence of nature through which I walked was obviously not enough. I wanted it all.
I was humbled when Suzie ( my French Canadian friend) told me that a group of elders from France was walking the camino - at least one was 83. In earlier days they were transported by vehicle part of the way, after Sarria, they were walking on their own power - and they were staying in albergues! That small crack in my resolve to stay in hostals and pensiones was wretched open by this piece of information. (Now I did learn tonight that this elderly woman fell in the middle of the night and my friend Vered ( from Holland) tried to help her up and the woman was so stubborn and determined she wanted to stay on the floor. Vered did manage to get her back to her bed...life certainly is not dull on the camino).
Another thing I have learned about strong reactions is that it is seldom the thing that provokes the reaction that is the source. Search a little deeper and you can often find the real cause of the reaction. One gift of walking the camino is that you cannot avoid such things with busyness. The fact that such a situation triggered my Scottish sensibilities was a key. My father died 42 years ago tomorrow - and there have been rumblings on this journey that there is still work to do there. Here I cannot ignore my body- the signals that come when I follow that initial reaction - the heaviness of heart, the deep sadness.... feelings that something that is not quite right with the world. And so I walk - one step in front of the other allowing the messages deep inside my body a chance to speak.
Another humbling lesson is that of language. When I arrived at my Pension yesterday I stated like I usually so in my limited Spanish "reserv(b)a. and I got a barrage of Spanish back. "No Spanish! Completo! (full). I managed to spit out enough Spanish words that he eventually processed my reservation and gave me the keys to my room, but my ego was definitely bruised and I did not feel welcomed after a long walk. All the Spanish people had been so gracious this far. (I did learn that an Australian couple last week and another Canadian from Victoria (also last night) also experienced the same thing- and she speaks Spanish.
However, there is another side to this story. I have met/walked and talked at length with several young Spanish men - all in English so they can practice their English. I recogniZed that this rude and obstreperous man was giving me the invitation and perhaps the motivation should I choose to accept- that I could try a little harder to learn Spanish.
The path yesterday and today are beautiful rolling hills, interesting little villages, trickling Brooks and sunshine. There is a breeze and nip in the air- definitely fall, but beautiful.
The numbers on the path keep increasing. Spanish people are in the majority. But your heart goes out to them - you can see that many of them are hurting. Their bodies have so little time to adjust to the rigors of walking when they are soon at their destination. One young Spanish man with whom I walked with yesterday was having similar problems that I had. I shared some of what I learned about thin socks, tying the boot higher etc. You could see his resistance to what I said - a bit like his mother telling him. However, he had over 30km to do today. I saw him as I arrived into Melide and he was delighted with his day so far. He had on thin socks and tied his boot higher. I had to chuckle to myself. I hope he has a Buen Camino all the way to Santiago.
Another group that is moving through the Camino like the babyboomers are in time, is a class from highschool. It has a similar feel to me as our kids when they went through the Trek outdoors program in grade 10. They definitely bring another energy to the path. I spoke with two of them waiting to use the loo. They had both studied in the US for several months and spoke very good English. They and most Spanish are astounded when you respond that you started in France. Those of us seem to be swallowed up here.
So until tomorrow in Arzua- if I have internet. Goodnight. Heather.
Melide is famous for it's Pulpo- boiled octopus with Paprika and olive oil -like I had in O Cebreiro. I went with Vered and Chris, a woman I just met from Victoria. It was a lovely evening. We will have another short day tomorrow to Arzua, famous for a special soft cheese.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Portomarin
Dear Family and Friends
It is hard to believe that I began this journey one month ago today in St Jean Pied de Port. As I was walking this morning I was reflecting on all the people I have met, the various places I have visited, and all that I have learned over the past 688km or thereabouts. Tonight I am at 95km.
Today was Heather's day. A perfect day and one I didn't want to see end.....until near the end. You see a sign for your destination and you think it's immanent, but you still have another 3 or 4 km to go.
The small hotel I stayed in last night served a nice breakfast which I took advantage of. I left town just as daylight was arriving. The sweet sound of birds singing accompanied me as I descended the town and soon found myself on a beautiful dirt track climbing a hill with huge old tree trunks supporting new growth, all lining the path like sentries guiding the way. A wonderful image for our BodySoul conference of Honouring Roots -Nurturing New Life, but it was too dark and the quality of my photos was not good. The vegetation of today's walk delighted my senses. The paths were those whose pictures invite you in... to follow to somewhere magical or full of mystery. I could not stop snapping pictures, so inviting was each path. Many many moments or cameos, a little trickling brook with ferns growing out of a wall, or moss on a
stone fence,ancient rock walls separating green fields. It looked very much like Ireland-
emerald green fields bordered by rock walls. There were huge oak trees - magnificent in their
maturity, and also chestnut trees covered in prickly green balls. I felt a bit like Alice in
Wonderland. Come to think of it, I even saw a rabbit yesterday in the monastery. I thought of
you Margo and took a picture. Not sure though that he was the mad hatter.
I love that as you walk into a town, all forms of life co- exist - homes, barns, cattle, bars
where local and pilgrim people gather for morning coffee. Barns and cattle are often housed in
the middle of town and cow dung covers the streets. I'm reminded of the alchemist's saying...
in the shit is the gold. And this journey is pure gold. I am well aware of how priveleged I
am to be here walking this path. I carry in my heart many people who are unable to make this
journey but could use the healing and blessing of the spiritual empowerment inherent on this path.
The sun shone brightly today - very warm.
Mist hung in the valleys and rose as the sun shone brightly. When I stopped for tea, I let my
toes come out to play and changed to my sandals. It was a shorts, short-sleeved and sunhat
day. Glorious.
I definitely noticed a different energy on the path today. Many groups - without packs have appeared- many Spamish speaking. There had been a camaraderie of people - perhaps on the long
haul- commiserating together - that seems to have been lost somewhat. Yet, I respect that each
person owns their own Camino, and it is not for me to judge. Also I can understand why it is
so popular to walk the last 100km. Galicia is very beautiful. ( pilgrims can get the
Compostella - certificate for completing the Camino in Santiago- if they walk the last 100km.)
Today is a Spanish National holiday - not just in Spain, but for all Spanish countries , including America- land founded by Christopher Columbus. Again I heard fireworks as I entered
town, and a little parade of VW beetles ( original) just honked as they passed by the bar
where I am enjoying a cervesa as I write this using the local weefee.
I will now go explore this town before the sun sets and dinner is served.
Tomorrow I head for Palas de Rei. Good night. Heather
It is hard to believe that I began this journey one month ago today in St Jean Pied de Port. As I was walking this morning I was reflecting on all the people I have met, the various places I have visited, and all that I have learned over the past 688km or thereabouts. Tonight I am at 95km.
Today was Heather's day. A perfect day and one I didn't want to see end.....until near the end. You see a sign for your destination and you think it's immanent, but you still have another 3 or 4 km to go.
The small hotel I stayed in last night served a nice breakfast which I took advantage of. I left town just as daylight was arriving. The sweet sound of birds singing accompanied me as I descended the town and soon found myself on a beautiful dirt track climbing a hill with huge old tree trunks supporting new growth, all lining the path like sentries guiding the way. A wonderful image for our BodySoul conference of Honouring Roots -Nurturing New Life, but it was too dark and the quality of my photos was not good. The vegetation of today's walk delighted my senses. The paths were those whose pictures invite you in... to follow to somewhere magical or full of mystery. I could not stop snapping pictures, so inviting was each path. Many many moments or cameos, a little trickling brook with ferns growing out of a wall, or moss on a
stone fence,ancient rock walls separating green fields. It looked very much like Ireland-
emerald green fields bordered by rock walls. There were huge oak trees - magnificent in their
maturity, and also chestnut trees covered in prickly green balls. I felt a bit like Alice in
Wonderland. Come to think of it, I even saw a rabbit yesterday in the monastery. I thought of
you Margo and took a picture. Not sure though that he was the mad hatter.
I love that as you walk into a town, all forms of life co- exist - homes, barns, cattle, bars
where local and pilgrim people gather for morning coffee. Barns and cattle are often housed in
the middle of town and cow dung covers the streets. I'm reminded of the alchemist's saying...
in the shit is the gold. And this journey is pure gold. I am well aware of how priveleged I
am to be here walking this path. I carry in my heart many people who are unable to make this
journey but could use the healing and blessing of the spiritual empowerment inherent on this path.
The sun shone brightly today - very warm.
Mist hung in the valleys and rose as the sun shone brightly. When I stopped for tea, I let my
toes come out to play and changed to my sandals. It was a shorts, short-sleeved and sunhat
day. Glorious.
I definitely noticed a different energy on the path today. Many groups - without packs have appeared- many Spamish speaking. There had been a camaraderie of people - perhaps on the long
haul- commiserating together - that seems to have been lost somewhat. Yet, I respect that each
person owns their own Camino, and it is not for me to judge. Also I can understand why it is
so popular to walk the last 100km. Galicia is very beautiful. ( pilgrims can get the
Compostella - certificate for completing the Camino in Santiago- if they walk the last 100km.)
Today is a Spanish National holiday - not just in Spain, but for all Spanish countries , including America- land founded by Christopher Columbus. Again I heard fireworks as I entered
town, and a little parade of VW beetles ( original) just honked as they passed by the bar
where I am enjoying a cervesa as I write this using the local weefee.
I will now go explore this town before the sun sets and dinner is served.
Tomorrow I head for Palas de Rei. Good night. Heather
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sarria
Dear Family and Friends
First, let me not exclude those who do not live in Canada and celebrate our thanksgiving. I also very much appreciate your love and support. Thankyou for being partof my life.
Festivities for the Spanish holiday continued into the night. I was awakened by what sounded like a canon at 4am. I also understand from my Fr Canadian friend Suzie that there was singing and dancing well into the wee small hours of the morning. A small collision of cultures as pilgrims are early to bed and early to rise. Many of the albergues wake everyone at 6 with gregorian chants.
Although I anticipated sun today, I set out in my rain gear and boots. It proved to be a good intuitive move for there was a light mist when I left my pensione and headed to get some breakfast of hot chocolate and tostadas. (toast) I met Jaime ( the elder Spanish man ) there and had a visit with him. We were going in different directions today because I was heading to Samos to visit the monastery there.
The route took me along the highway for about 4km and the mist turned to rain. There were looming cliffs and a beautiful stream to my left down a very dramatic drop. Eventually the path moves off the road and followed a beautiful path through the woods. It was a very reflective time for me because I had just had a conversation with my family in Summerland ( the village name for a town in the interior of BC)They had all gathered there for Thanksgiving along with Jims Mom and sister and brother-in-law. It was the first thanksgiving I had not been present and I was missing everyone. Also I had some dream images which wanted attention.
I love the lush green foliage of Galicia - very much like BC in many ways. But it seems you are never without a small stream, rather like walking with a friend. Also, the terrain is rolling hills with lots of up and downs. A beautiful landscape for walking.
As I was walking along deep in thought a young man came up behind me and scared the daylights out of me because I was totally in my own world. We started to talk asking each other where we were from. The next thing he said, " and I bet your name is Heather. So out of nowhere someone you have never met tells you your name. This Camino is far too small. It turns out he, from Holland, is (Camino) friends with Vered, the Israeli woman living in Amaterdam. She had spoken
about me while they walked and he felt there could not be too many women walking alone from Vancouver. He was behind Vered because he had tried to get money from the bank machine which ate his card. Being Sunday, he has to wait till this morning to get it back. Apparently there were 10 pilgrims in the same boat. Luckily I could not gain access to that bank yesterday.
We talked all the way to Samos and took in a tour of the Monastery - all on Spanish. There
was one young Spanish man there who translated some things for me. But, it was an education
just to see the artwork, and to feel the peaceful presence of the church.
After getting a lunch of a boccadillo and hot chocolate we headed off to Sarria which was to be another 13km. What we learned later from Pierre whom we met when we took a coke break, the 13km applied to the road. Taking the more enjoyable interior route added another 10km!
This young man had cycled from Holland to St Jean Pied de Port, shipped his bicycle to Santiago,and began walking to Santiago. He then will take his bike to Finisterre, then to Portugal. He was a physEd teacher for students 12-16, but felt he needed some time to discover who he was and what he wanted. He has overcome a lot in his young life and was very impressive to talk with.
Fortunately the last 5km was much quicker than the previous 20. The sun had come out, and inspite of thinking at one point we were taking the wrong direction, we arrived into Sarria
around 4:30.
Joost had learned that Vered had a bad case of bedbug bites and was in Sarria being treated. We had also met 2 South Korean women who stayed at the same albergue and also had bad bedbug bites. A big group of us went out for dinner- 2 New Zealanders, 2 from the Netherland, a Dane and myself. Vared was being counselled by others who had struggled with bed bugs to go to the hospital to get "a shot" to stop the itching and prevent infection. I offered to go with her.
The hospital was very sympathetic and helpful. Vered got her shot and we parted ways for the night. It had been another fascinating day on the Camino. Good night. Heather
Apparently
First, let me not exclude those who do not live in Canada and celebrate our thanksgiving. I also very much appreciate your love and support. Thankyou for being partof my life.
Festivities for the Spanish holiday continued into the night. I was awakened by what sounded like a canon at 4am. I also understand from my Fr Canadian friend Suzie that there was singing and dancing well into the wee small hours of the morning. A small collision of cultures as pilgrims are early to bed and early to rise. Many of the albergues wake everyone at 6 with gregorian chants.
Although I anticipated sun today, I set out in my rain gear and boots. It proved to be a good intuitive move for there was a light mist when I left my pensione and headed to get some breakfast of hot chocolate and tostadas. (toast) I met Jaime ( the elder Spanish man ) there and had a visit with him. We were going in different directions today because I was heading to Samos to visit the monastery there.
The route took me along the highway for about 4km and the mist turned to rain. There were looming cliffs and a beautiful stream to my left down a very dramatic drop. Eventually the path moves off the road and followed a beautiful path through the woods. It was a very reflective time for me because I had just had a conversation with my family in Summerland ( the village name for a town in the interior of BC)They had all gathered there for Thanksgiving along with Jims Mom and sister and brother-in-law. It was the first thanksgiving I had not been present and I was missing everyone. Also I had some dream images which wanted attention.
I love the lush green foliage of Galicia - very much like BC in many ways. But it seems you are never without a small stream, rather like walking with a friend. Also, the terrain is rolling hills with lots of up and downs. A beautiful landscape for walking.
As I was walking along deep in thought a young man came up behind me and scared the daylights out of me because I was totally in my own world. We started to talk asking each other where we were from. The next thing he said, " and I bet your name is Heather. So out of nowhere someone you have never met tells you your name. This Camino is far too small. It turns out he, from Holland, is (Camino) friends with Vered, the Israeli woman living in Amaterdam. She had spoken
about me while they walked and he felt there could not be too many women walking alone from Vancouver. He was behind Vered because he had tried to get money from the bank machine which ate his card. Being Sunday, he has to wait till this morning to get it back. Apparently there were 10 pilgrims in the same boat. Luckily I could not gain access to that bank yesterday.
We talked all the way to Samos and took in a tour of the Monastery - all on Spanish. There
was one young Spanish man there who translated some things for me. But, it was an education
just to see the artwork, and to feel the peaceful presence of the church.
After getting a lunch of a boccadillo and hot chocolate we headed off to Sarria which was to be another 13km. What we learned later from Pierre whom we met when we took a coke break, the 13km applied to the road. Taking the more enjoyable interior route added another 10km!
This young man had cycled from Holland to St Jean Pied de Port, shipped his bicycle to Santiago,and began walking to Santiago. He then will take his bike to Finisterre, then to Portugal. He was a physEd teacher for students 12-16, but felt he needed some time to discover who he was and what he wanted. He has overcome a lot in his young life and was very impressive to talk with.
Fortunately the last 5km was much quicker than the previous 20. The sun had come out, and inspite of thinking at one point we were taking the wrong direction, we arrived into Sarria
around 4:30.
Joost had learned that Vered had a bad case of bedbug bites and was in Sarria being treated. We had also met 2 South Korean women who stayed at the same albergue and also had bad bedbug bites. A big group of us went out for dinner- 2 New Zealanders, 2 from the Netherland, a Dane and myself. Vared was being counselled by others who had struggled with bed bugs to go to the hospital to get "a shot" to stop the itching and prevent infection. I offered to go with her.
The hospital was very sympathetic and helpful. Vered got her shot and we parted ways for the night. It had been another fascinating day on the Camino. Good night. Heather
Apparently
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving to all in Canada
Dear Family and Friends
I am thankful you are all in my life.
Thank you for your love and support.
Canons? Went off at 4am.....
It is calling for sun in Santiago for the rest of the week....
Life is good. Heather
I am thankful you are all in my life.
Thank you for your love and support.
Canons? Went off at 4am.....
It is calling for sun in Santiago for the rest of the week....
Life is good. Heather
O Cebreiro/ Triacastela
Dear Family and Friends
Tonight I am at Triacastela in a funky old Pensione that smells ancient. Not bad, just old - sort of like the stacks at a university. The key is a skeleton key that looks like it was used in the middle ages. The bathroom, though simple, is updated and the water is lovely and warm, even of the room isn't. Still, I am lucky to have a bed. Tuesday is a National holiday in Spain, so it seems a though all the hotels, hostels and Albergues are filled to capacity. People are being put on mattresses on the floor and some have taken a taxi to the next town hoping to find a bed.
Friday morning in Los Herrerios I awoke in the rain and went down to the bar to get some breakfast later than usual. I knew much of the trail was in the woods so I needed light. I also knew I had a shorter day. The first part was on the road with considerable incline, then the road divided - the trail for walkers and the road for bikers.
I had met up with the Spanish friend of my Brazilian friends. His name in Spanish is Haime (James - like the Apostle). He told me he has done the Camino 10 times. The first was in 1948 by steam train. There he met a "real pilgrim" who had walked from Belgium to Santiago and made a real impression on him. He first walked the Camino with his son and grandson in 1999 when he
retired.
On this steep rocky path in the rain, this man just flew. He was like a mountain goat and was at least 10 years my senior. My training on Giant's Head and Grouse served me well, for I was able to stay close behind, but when he and the Brazilian couple stopped at the next village, I continued on. It was still very overcast but was lightening up. Some time later the clouds lifted and the magnificence of the intersecting mountains revealed itself. It was exquisite. The climb was significant and when I arrived at the next village I was sure I had arrived at OCebreiro and thought this is very small, bit I learned I still had several km to go. I stopped for a coke and headed out once again on the rain.
I met man pulling a suitcase on wheels in the opposite direction just about where there is a sign marking entrance into Galicia. I stopped to talk to him and learned he had left from Poland in June, had arrived to Santiago and was now returning to Germany. He hoped to get there by Christmas.
From here the trail flattened out and it was an easy 2 km to O Cebreiro.
A rock wall guided the path and soon I saw a large group of people with umbrellas and then a big Tour bus. The place was crawling with people.
My first stop was at the church to get my credential stamped. There was a service going on so I stopped and joined in for some time. This church is said to have housed the Holy Grail ( Christ's chalice after the crucifixion.
Eventually I found the right bar where I was to register for my hostal. I waited a good 2
hours before I was led to my room because there was only one man working and the bar was
constantly crowded with people wanting drinks and food. That was when I made my last post.
Once settled into my room, showered and my laundry washed and hanging in my room in the sun which had reappeared, I went out to explore and get some food.
The lunch menu, the same as the dinner menu, is available before 4 pm so you don't need to wait till 8 pm. I had had a restaurant recommended to me and I headed there. It was very crowded and I was guided to a table where an Italian cyclist was eating. He had a dish special to Galicia, pulpo a la gallega - steamed octopus sliced, sprinkled with paprika and served on a wooden platter. I ordered the same, happy to have a change from the pilgrim menu. It was delicious! Then, for dessert, a special soft cheese with a thick honey poured over it. It too was delicious. The Italian had left by this time since he was heading for Sarria which was a good 40 more km.
The day had turned out spectacularly with the sun shining revealing the beautiful mountainous countryside. I met a man from Parry Sound who with his wife had arranged for bikes at Ponderrada. They had done no training and spent most of the time walking their bikes up the hills.... Everyone finds their own way to do the camino.
The rest of the time I O Cebreiro was pretty low key. I realized I had set up expectations of my time there. I visited with various people and looked around to see If bagpipes were being played, and eventually headed to bed, only to discover today from Suzie and Pierre that they saw the pipes being played in a bar close to the albergue. I'm sorry I misses them
but at least I saw them on Leon.
Today turned out to be a beautiful day. I left OCebreiro around 8:30 and followed a pretty mud path through the trees. I came upon another Canadian from Edmonton who has been doing the Camino in sections. She started in Aatorga this time and will finish in Santiago.
Haime caught up with me and I walked with him for some time, but his pace was too fast for me. He informed me that we were walking at 4.7 km/hour. There was an astounding number of people on the trail today, many with no packs walking along quickly and often in packs. Haime called them " plastic pilgrims".
I stopped for breakfast and met up with Suzie and Pierre several times as our breaks were a little out of step. Walking along the paths that wound through the steep sloping mountains, I felt like "Heidi" walking in the mountains of my girlhood fantasies. It was brilliant. Walking with Suzie at one point she was singing music from the sound of music. It was that kind of day.
I met up with a French woman whom I have met up with several time. This poor woman has been plagued with bed bugs and has had another episode and was looking for a place with a washing machine to wash all her things again. The bed big stories keep mounting. My photographer
friend from south Korea with whom I sat on the train to St Jean has battled them for 2 weeks and went to the hospital in Astorga and was given an injection which cleared them up and she believes has made her immune to them- with limited English that's all the info I got. But the bedbug situation is bad. One woman told me the Camino is going to be shut down in December and all the albergues fumigated. Many believe that would be a very good idea. Hostals might be a good choice afterall.
Coming into Triacastela tonight SuZie and I heard what we thought were gunshots since hunting season for wild boar has just begun, bit it was infact fireworks for this holiday time.
Today marks the last week of my journey to Santiago. I will arrive one week today. I must say that although this has been a very exciting journey, I am counting the days till I return home. Tomorrow I head for Sarria.
Goodnight from the Camino. Heather
Tonight I am at Triacastela in a funky old Pensione that smells ancient. Not bad, just old - sort of like the stacks at a university. The key is a skeleton key that looks like it was used in the middle ages. The bathroom, though simple, is updated and the water is lovely and warm, even of the room isn't. Still, I am lucky to have a bed. Tuesday is a National holiday in Spain, so it seems a though all the hotels, hostels and Albergues are filled to capacity. People are being put on mattresses on the floor and some have taken a taxi to the next town hoping to find a bed.
Friday morning in Los Herrerios I awoke in the rain and went down to the bar to get some breakfast later than usual. I knew much of the trail was in the woods so I needed light. I also knew I had a shorter day. The first part was on the road with considerable incline, then the road divided - the trail for walkers and the road for bikers.
I had met up with the Spanish friend of my Brazilian friends. His name in Spanish is Haime (James - like the Apostle). He told me he has done the Camino 10 times. The first was in 1948 by steam train. There he met a "real pilgrim" who had walked from Belgium to Santiago and made a real impression on him. He first walked the Camino with his son and grandson in 1999 when he
retired.
On this steep rocky path in the rain, this man just flew. He was like a mountain goat and was at least 10 years my senior. My training on Giant's Head and Grouse served me well, for I was able to stay close behind, but when he and the Brazilian couple stopped at the next village, I continued on. It was still very overcast but was lightening up. Some time later the clouds lifted and the magnificence of the intersecting mountains revealed itself. It was exquisite. The climb was significant and when I arrived at the next village I was sure I had arrived at OCebreiro and thought this is very small, bit I learned I still had several km to go. I stopped for a coke and headed out once again on the rain.
I met man pulling a suitcase on wheels in the opposite direction just about where there is a sign marking entrance into Galicia. I stopped to talk to him and learned he had left from Poland in June, had arrived to Santiago and was now returning to Germany. He hoped to get there by Christmas.
From here the trail flattened out and it was an easy 2 km to O Cebreiro.
A rock wall guided the path and soon I saw a large group of people with umbrellas and then a big Tour bus. The place was crawling with people.
My first stop was at the church to get my credential stamped. There was a service going on so I stopped and joined in for some time. This church is said to have housed the Holy Grail ( Christ's chalice after the crucifixion.
Eventually I found the right bar where I was to register for my hostal. I waited a good 2
hours before I was led to my room because there was only one man working and the bar was
constantly crowded with people wanting drinks and food. That was when I made my last post.
Once settled into my room, showered and my laundry washed and hanging in my room in the sun which had reappeared, I went out to explore and get some food.
The lunch menu, the same as the dinner menu, is available before 4 pm so you don't need to wait till 8 pm. I had had a restaurant recommended to me and I headed there. It was very crowded and I was guided to a table where an Italian cyclist was eating. He had a dish special to Galicia, pulpo a la gallega - steamed octopus sliced, sprinkled with paprika and served on a wooden platter. I ordered the same, happy to have a change from the pilgrim menu. It was delicious! Then, for dessert, a special soft cheese with a thick honey poured over it. It too was delicious. The Italian had left by this time since he was heading for Sarria which was a good 40 more km.
The day had turned out spectacularly with the sun shining revealing the beautiful mountainous countryside. I met a man from Parry Sound who with his wife had arranged for bikes at Ponderrada. They had done no training and spent most of the time walking their bikes up the hills.... Everyone finds their own way to do the camino.
The rest of the time I O Cebreiro was pretty low key. I realized I had set up expectations of my time there. I visited with various people and looked around to see If bagpipes were being played, and eventually headed to bed, only to discover today from Suzie and Pierre that they saw the pipes being played in a bar close to the albergue. I'm sorry I misses them
but at least I saw them on Leon.
Today turned out to be a beautiful day. I left OCebreiro around 8:30 and followed a pretty mud path through the trees. I came upon another Canadian from Edmonton who has been doing the Camino in sections. She started in Aatorga this time and will finish in Santiago.
Haime caught up with me and I walked with him for some time, but his pace was too fast for me. He informed me that we were walking at 4.7 km/hour. There was an astounding number of people on the trail today, many with no packs walking along quickly and often in packs. Haime called them " plastic pilgrims".
I stopped for breakfast and met up with Suzie and Pierre several times as our breaks were a little out of step. Walking along the paths that wound through the steep sloping mountains, I felt like "Heidi" walking in the mountains of my girlhood fantasies. It was brilliant. Walking with Suzie at one point she was singing music from the sound of music. It was that kind of day.
I met up with a French woman whom I have met up with several time. This poor woman has been plagued with bed bugs and has had another episode and was looking for a place with a washing machine to wash all her things again. The bed big stories keep mounting. My photographer
friend from south Korea with whom I sat on the train to St Jean has battled them for 2 weeks and went to the hospital in Astorga and was given an injection which cleared them up and she believes has made her immune to them- with limited English that's all the info I got. But the bedbug situation is bad. One woman told me the Camino is going to be shut down in December and all the albergues fumigated. Many believe that would be a very good idea. Hostals might be a good choice afterall.
Coming into Triacastela tonight SuZie and I heard what we thought were gunshots since hunting season for wild boar has just begun, bit it was infact fireworks for this holiday time.
Today marks the last week of my journey to Santiago. I will arrive one week today. I must say that although this has been a very exciting journey, I am counting the days till I return home. Tomorrow I head for Sarria.
Goodnight from the Camino. Heather
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Las Herrerias de Valcarce
Dear Friends and Family,
This was a particularly difficult day for me and a low point on my Camino journey. I left Cacabelos at 7 30 wearing my sandals to keep my "lowly toe / the one next to my big one happy. The quick and steep descent into Molinaseca compromised it's good feelings...." It was very warm/ 18 degrees C. THe previous day was up to 26 degrees. At an early point on the road I met up with Suzie and Pierre, my French Canadian friends. We walked along the road a bit, then decided to move inland to the vinyards enroute to Villa franca del Bierzo. It was a beautiful route, with many vinyards and rolling hills. It was a dirt track, but very walkable. As light broke, the clouds seemed to lift and blue sky showed itself. At one point the sun came out and lit up the landscape.
When we arrived in Villafranca.....I had a hot chocolate and a tortilla. As we sat there, the clouds started rolling in and it appeared as though rain was immanent. I decided to put on my boots. There was a route over the mountains that missed many of the towns, but promised to be very beautiful. They and I made the decision not to follow this route. I was feeling very tired this day, and decided to take the path by the road. THere would be many times I would regret the decision, still, I'm not sure it would have been a good decision to have taken the steep route in the country. It did begin to rain in earnest, and it would have been very mucky. Still, walking along the highway was not very pleasurable / a route without soul save for a babbling brook to the left of our walk. At one point the road divided and took a route into Pereie. It was a contryroad with big trees that led into an interesting town. At one point we could smell wine. THe doors were open to a black hole with a stick pointing out. We looked in and then saw two feet above the hole. In the hole were wines still in their skins. The pole had 3 prongs that was used for crushing. I took out my camera to take a picture and the man became VERY adamant I not take a picture, pulled out the pole and closed it all up. We speculated that perhaps the winemaking was not legitimate. Soon we found a cafe and stopped once again. I ordered a boccadilla. Pierre and Suzie had ordered a beer. Totally out of character, I also ordered a small beer. Soon we headed out and the town met up with the original road.
Suzie and I switched between French and English talking about all sorts of things, but I was so tired I could hardly think in French any more. At the next town, I left them to have their lunch and I carried on my way since I had much further to go than they did. It was a little like walking along a fairly major 2 to 4 lane highway by this point, with breaks for interchanges. Eventually I came to Trabadelo, where I met a number of people I had come to know enroute, including the south koreans who had sung me down to Molinaseca. It was there I learned I still had 5 km to go. By this time is was raining very hard. I stopped long enough for a coke and a little visit, then headed along my way. Towns at this point on the trail were like little hamlets, established along the roadway, with a few houses moving back beyond the main road. THere were some very new and modern houses and I stopped at one which was also a bakery to buy a piece of cake. I was looking for whatever I could to keep me going.3more villages to go before I found my place for the night. By this time it was getting late around 4 pm. I stopped by the river at one point, listening to the river, trying to take in some of its flowing energy. I was feeling the accumulation of several long days of walking. By 5 45
Eventually I came to Las Herrerias, but it was still a long walk into the blended town with >Hospital> .....none of the keys are where they are supposed to be here.....sorry for all the hyroglyphics....... I was struck by all the bulls I saw in the pens yet I could see no cows. Eventually I asked for the place I was to stay. A forlorn looking place greeted me, not what I was hoping for. She led me up to a very cold room with no heat. I asked about weefee and there was not any, nor was there a computer in the whole valley. ANd it was pouring rain. I went inside my room, sat on the bed and cried. It felt like it was all too much at that point. I also realized how I had come to rely on my internet connection. JIm had been a very regular supporter that I could rely on and when I really needed him, it was not available.
AFter a bit of a rest, I showered with nice warm water, changed and felt much better. I rested for a bit, gave my feet their loving attention, then ventured down stairs to get warm and ask about heat.
I was met with what seemed like a barrage of Spanish, but was just my incomprehension. I ordered a hot chocolate and the Senora poured attention onto me. By this time it was after 6. She made a fire and had me sit next to it. THen she brought out a delicious soup which is very regional here...beans, potato and green leafy vegetable. It was delicious and exactly what I needed. THere was only the one young woman with her daughter, who appeared to be about 9 or 10. It was the daughter who poured my glass of wine. AS I was eating dinner, a British couple came in and ordered a glass of wine. I learned that they were staying there and acting as support for the woman's cousin who was doing the camino by bicycle. He was finding it very diffiuclt and was finding he had to push his bicycle uphill one too many times.
By 8 pm, the dining room was filled with what seemed to be the whole family. THere were at least 3 generations involved, along with many other family members. THe place had a very good feel and my feelings had been transformed to gratitude for receiving all that I| needed. I went upstairs about 8 and went to bed soon after. I was ready for the next stage....a short_ climb to O Cebreiro where I would spend saturday night. Goodnight from the Camino. Heather
This was a particularly difficult day for me and a low point on my Camino journey. I left Cacabelos at 7 30 wearing my sandals to keep my "lowly toe / the one next to my big one happy. The quick and steep descent into Molinaseca compromised it's good feelings...." It was very warm/ 18 degrees C. THe previous day was up to 26 degrees. At an early point on the road I met up with Suzie and Pierre, my French Canadian friends. We walked along the road a bit, then decided to move inland to the vinyards enroute to Villa franca del Bierzo. It was a beautiful route, with many vinyards and rolling hills. It was a dirt track, but very walkable. As light broke, the clouds seemed to lift and blue sky showed itself. At one point the sun came out and lit up the landscape.
When we arrived in Villafranca.....I had a hot chocolate and a tortilla. As we sat there, the clouds started rolling in and it appeared as though rain was immanent. I decided to put on my boots. There was a route over the mountains that missed many of the towns, but promised to be very beautiful. They and I made the decision not to follow this route. I was feeling very tired this day, and decided to take the path by the road. THere would be many times I would regret the decision, still, I'm not sure it would have been a good decision to have taken the steep route in the country. It did begin to rain in earnest, and it would have been very mucky. Still, walking along the highway was not very pleasurable / a route without soul save for a babbling brook to the left of our walk. At one point the road divided and took a route into Pereie. It was a contryroad with big trees that led into an interesting town. At one point we could smell wine. THe doors were open to a black hole with a stick pointing out. We looked in and then saw two feet above the hole. In the hole were wines still in their skins. The pole had 3 prongs that was used for crushing. I took out my camera to take a picture and the man became VERY adamant I not take a picture, pulled out the pole and closed it all up. We speculated that perhaps the winemaking was not legitimate. Soon we found a cafe and stopped once again. I ordered a boccadilla. Pierre and Suzie had ordered a beer. Totally out of character, I also ordered a small beer. Soon we headed out and the town met up with the original road.
Suzie and I switched between French and English talking about all sorts of things, but I was so tired I could hardly think in French any more. At the next town, I left them to have their lunch and I carried on my way since I had much further to go than they did. It was a little like walking along a fairly major 2 to 4 lane highway by this point, with breaks for interchanges. Eventually I came to Trabadelo, where I met a number of people I had come to know enroute, including the south koreans who had sung me down to Molinaseca. It was there I learned I still had 5 km to go. By this time is was raining very hard. I stopped long enough for a coke and a little visit, then headed along my way. Towns at this point on the trail were like little hamlets, established along the roadway, with a few houses moving back beyond the main road. THere were some very new and modern houses and I stopped at one which was also a bakery to buy a piece of cake. I was looking for whatever I could to keep me going.3more villages to go before I found my place for the night. By this time it was getting late around 4 pm. I stopped by the river at one point, listening to the river, trying to take in some of its flowing energy. I was feeling the accumulation of several long days of walking. By 5 45
Eventually I came to Las Herrerias, but it was still a long walk into the blended town with >Hospital> .....none of the keys are where they are supposed to be here.....sorry for all the hyroglyphics....... I was struck by all the bulls I saw in the pens yet I could see no cows. Eventually I asked for the place I was to stay. A forlorn looking place greeted me, not what I was hoping for. She led me up to a very cold room with no heat. I asked about weefee and there was not any, nor was there a computer in the whole valley. ANd it was pouring rain. I went inside my room, sat on the bed and cried. It felt like it was all too much at that point. I also realized how I had come to rely on my internet connection. JIm had been a very regular supporter that I could rely on and when I really needed him, it was not available.
AFter a bit of a rest, I showered with nice warm water, changed and felt much better. I rested for a bit, gave my feet their loving attention, then ventured down stairs to get warm and ask about heat.
I was met with what seemed like a barrage of Spanish, but was just my incomprehension. I ordered a hot chocolate and the Senora poured attention onto me. By this time it was after 6. She made a fire and had me sit next to it. THen she brought out a delicious soup which is very regional here...beans, potato and green leafy vegetable. It was delicious and exactly what I needed. THere was only the one young woman with her daughter, who appeared to be about 9 or 10. It was the daughter who poured my glass of wine. AS I was eating dinner, a British couple came in and ordered a glass of wine. I learned that they were staying there and acting as support for the woman's cousin who was doing the camino by bicycle. He was finding it very diffiuclt and was finding he had to push his bicycle uphill one too many times.
By 8 pm, the dining room was filled with what seemed to be the whole family. THere were at least 3 generations involved, along with many other family members. THe place had a very good feel and my feelings had been transformed to gratitude for receiving all that I| needed. I went upstairs about 8 and went to bed soon after. I was ready for the next stage....a short_ climb to O Cebreiro where I would spend saturday night. Goodnight from the Camino. Heather
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Previous post was premature
I knew I still had to walk almost 18km, and given the normal rate of 4km per hour, I wouldn't get to Cacabelos till at least 4 and I still needed to pick up some lunch and change into lighter pants since the sun had come out. I was realizing this was going to be a long and possibly hard walk due to the late hour.
But as I was finding my way put of town, I heard my name and was delighted to see Vered, a lovely Israeli woman now living in Amsterdam. We had visited previous days and I had left her yesterday at the town before the final descent into Molinaseca.
She too was heading to Cacabelos, so we each were delighted to have company and a chance to visit. This was a woman who barely walked a block at home. She was delighted to have caught up with me since I was the last one she saw yesterday when she decided to stay and she was on her way to walking 29km. We had a jolly good walk together, stopping for a rest and foot rubdown.
We were once again into wine country and rolling hills along dirt tracks.
Outside cacabelos a farmer took Vered and I aside along a row of apple trees, and offered us each little apples. Although small and green, they were delicious. I realized I was famished and exhausted by the time I arrived.
Vered and I celebrated her 29km with yet another pilgims dinner, though the soup was delicious. And now it is time to turn in. Tomorrow is another longish day to a little Hamlet of Los Harrerias and 167.5km from Santiago.
Good night from the Camino. Heather
But as I was finding my way put of town, I heard my name and was delighted to see Vered, a lovely Israeli woman now living in Amsterdam. We had visited previous days and I had left her yesterday at the town before the final descent into Molinaseca.
She too was heading to Cacabelos, so we each were delighted to have company and a chance to visit. This was a woman who barely walked a block at home. She was delighted to have caught up with me since I was the last one she saw yesterday when she decided to stay and she was on her way to walking 29km. We had a jolly good walk together, stopping for a rest and foot rubdown.
We were once again into wine country and rolling hills along dirt tracks.
Outside cacabelos a farmer took Vered and I aside along a row of apple trees, and offered us each little apples. Although small and green, they were delicious. I realized I was famished and exhausted by the time I arrived.
Vered and I celebrated her 29km with yet another pilgims dinner, though the soup was delicious. And now it is time to turn in. Tomorrow is another longish day to a little Hamlet of Los Harrerias and 167.5km from Santiago.
Good night from the Camino. Heather
Cacabelos
Dear Family and Friends
Sometimes when I head out in the morning I wonder if this might just be an ordinary day and really have nothing to report. But it just never seems to happen. Though part of me does not really believe it is just the camino. I wonder if I walked around Vancouver instead of going at lightening speed if many amazing things might just as easily happen at home. Something to think about.
Well, as I walked out of my door, clothes all nicely washed and dried from the very soggy previos day, the first thing I noticed was a woman outside in her beautiful courtyard roasting red peppers over a heater with a grate about 3' in diameter. I stopped to take a picture and wondered what she was making? This was around 7:30 in the morning.
I headed out of town, admiring the grand houses with shuttered windows that lay behind iron fences. The young Italian man I ran across several times since Leon was walking on the other side if the street. He stood out on my mind because he reminded me of my nephew Stewart. After talking from a distance, he came to my aide of the street so we could talk more easily.
I learned he was at school in Milan taking "science materials " which was as he described, is
physics. We took a small road off the main road and walked through gently rolling wine country. David and I got into discussions about quantum physics, Jung and Pauli - oh yes, and cooking. His mother is from the South of Italy and his father from the north, so he has rich influences. The conversation brought is quickly to Ponferrada where we stopped for a hot chocolate. It was so thick and rich, a spoon could almost stand up in it. A Spanish man I met previously told me it was a drink from Madrid, but David told me that his mother (in Milan) taught him how to make it, so perhaps because it is so good, everyone claims it.
The cafe was filled with pilgrims, many I had met before. A Danish fellow came in who was resting I'm Ponferrada for a day because of persistent swelling of one of his shins. He told me he had taken his family to Vancouver, Victoria, revelstoke, Banff, and San Francisco this summer. He was walking the Camino to try to figure out what he wanted to do/work at in his life. David and I parted ways as I decided to wait till 11 o'clock when the Castle opened. I could just imagine my two grandsons walking through a very real life castle. It was very exciting - even for a Nana. This was a castle where the Knights Templar gave safety and refuge to Pilgrims in the Middle Ages heading to Santiago.
Another treasure found in Ponferrada is a small Madonna - Virgin de la Encina which the Knights Templar apparently found in a wooden tree they were cutting down while building the castle. It is now housed in the Basilica in the town square. I went in to see her, and realized that a mass was soon to occur. I sat down in a pew and said a few prayers for family and friends at home who have need of support. There was a very peaceful feel about the church and I hated to leave.
I had spent a good 2 hours waiting for the castle to open
he had taken his
Sometimes when I head out in the morning I wonder if this might just be an ordinary day and really have nothing to report. But it just never seems to happen. Though part of me does not really believe it is just the camino. I wonder if I walked around Vancouver instead of going at lightening speed if many amazing things might just as easily happen at home. Something to think about.
Well, as I walked out of my door, clothes all nicely washed and dried from the very soggy previos day, the first thing I noticed was a woman outside in her beautiful courtyard roasting red peppers over a heater with a grate about 3' in diameter. I stopped to take a picture and wondered what she was making? This was around 7:30 in the morning.
I headed out of town, admiring the grand houses with shuttered windows that lay behind iron fences. The young Italian man I ran across several times since Leon was walking on the other side if the street. He stood out on my mind because he reminded me of my nephew Stewart. After talking from a distance, he came to my aide of the street so we could talk more easily.
I learned he was at school in Milan taking "science materials " which was as he described, is
physics. We took a small road off the main road and walked through gently rolling wine country. David and I got into discussions about quantum physics, Jung and Pauli - oh yes, and cooking. His mother is from the South of Italy and his father from the north, so he has rich influences. The conversation brought is quickly to Ponferrada where we stopped for a hot chocolate. It was so thick and rich, a spoon could almost stand up in it. A Spanish man I met previously told me it was a drink from Madrid, but David told me that his mother (in Milan) taught him how to make it, so perhaps because it is so good, everyone claims it.
The cafe was filled with pilgrims, many I had met before. A Danish fellow came in who was resting I'm Ponferrada for a day because of persistent swelling of one of his shins. He told me he had taken his family to Vancouver, Victoria, revelstoke, Banff, and San Francisco this summer. He was walking the Camino to try to figure out what he wanted to do/work at in his life. David and I parted ways as I decided to wait till 11 o'clock when the Castle opened. I could just imagine my two grandsons walking through a very real life castle. It was very exciting - even for a Nana. This was a castle where the Knights Templar gave safety and refuge to Pilgrims in the Middle Ages heading to Santiago.
Another treasure found in Ponferrada is a small Madonna - Virgin de la Encina which the Knights Templar apparently found in a wooden tree they were cutting down while building the castle. It is now housed in the Basilica in the town square. I went in to see her, and realized that a mass was soon to occur. I sat down in a pew and said a few prayers for family and friends at home who have need of support. There was a very peaceful feel about the church and I hated to leave.
I had spent a good 2 hours waiting for the castle to open
he had taken his
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Rabanal del Camino/ Molinaseca
Dear Friends and Family
There was no weefee available last night, so was not able to make a post. I did not say anything on my last post about my feet, and feel I should because we walked 27km that day and then another 27km today. I must say they have been real troopers, though it is very different from the beginning. We have many conversations now and I consult my feet on these long treks. On that former long day, I did stop several times to air,Examine, massage and occasionally cream my feet. Also, for the last 4km I changed into my sandals which made them very happy.
Many times I have been reminded by a favourite miller childhood story called "Theres no such thing as a dragon". Billy tells his mother there is a dragon in his room and mother tells him there's no such thing as a dragon. Several times she repeats this as the dragon continues to grow until it takes up the whole house. The last scene shows a small dragon on mothers lap and she says she doesn't mind dragons this size and she couldn't understand why he had to grow so big. In Billys childhood wisdom, he says he thinks the dragon just wants to be noticed.
A wonderful metaphor for many things, and certainly for my feet. It's a relationship like any other- we all want to be noticed and respected, and now I respect the deeper wisdom of my feet
even when my will/mind wants to take over.
Astorga was a beautiful town and I left later than usual yesterday morning. The moon was just a sliver. It was cool as the sun rose to reveal a tree lined street splendid in fall colours of orange and gold. Our path was beside a path where many teams were out for their morning run.
I stopped a couple of times to have a tortilla and tea, then a bocodilla and coke for lunch. Marie caught up with me a couple of times, but I was having a very pensive day. I was reflecting on why I was doing this Camino.
One reason was that I wanted to trust the wisdom of my body and to be guided from that place. And my feet certainly have been helping me along with that one. In fact at one point I stopped and put on my sandals- we were feeling very free and the sun was glorious.
But there is also a reality in my life that I have had a lot of difficulty in honouring myself and claiming my own authority in my life. It has led me to seek out many things and become a bit of an eternal student. But of course those achievements are in large part external; as well this lack of belief has kept me from putting myself out in the world- almost a fear of being judged.
As I was walking along the trail, the valley opened up to reveal a large swath of purple heather in bloom. As I walked along more and more became apparent. It was almost overwhelming, but I was transfixed by the magnitude of it all. It extended as far as I could see and beyond. The scene said to me, there is heather in all it's/your glory. Not in a narcissistic way, but in a graphic honouring. And I felt I took it in in a new way in every cell of my body. It was an amazing recognition for me that brought me to tears. It also struck me that I did not have that same recognition when Margo and I were in the highlands of Scotland but then I was in a very different place this time.
Then the path narrowed and we walked along a protected path beside a wire fence. All over the fence were crosses made out sticks and decorated with mosses, leaves, heather and all sorts of creative presentations. The walkway must of extended for 1-2 km. And the fence was covered with these little altars. An honouring of human connections- of tributes, prayers, love, loss, hope. This Camino is much more than a religious journey even in a Holy Year. It is about soul. Of what is truly important in peoples lives. And because it is a long journey involving each persons body, this path is about embodying soul. It Gives me a great deal of hope for our world and our humanity. I stopped to place a few of my own crosses for friends and loved ones.
Today was a very rich journey and U appreciated the solitude.
A special dish of this area is called Cocido Maragato - a topsy turvy dinner with the meat course first followed by vegetables then soup. Encouraged by my Brazilian friends I decided to try it. The meat was all sorts of pork- feet, ear, knuckle, hock- all well cooked and very tasty- but enough to feed an army. I ate my fill then took the rest to some south Korean friends who delighted in it. The vegetables were cabbage and chick peas and the soup like a pale chicken noodle soup. I'm happy I tried it, but once is enough.
I had dinner with a woman I had crossed paths with many times, but she spoke french in such a quiet voice I didn't have a lot of confidence in communicating with her. I learned she is SwissAllemagn and has just retired as a social worker. We got on famously and had lots of laughs together.
I started out early this morning in the dark and in the rain. It would be another long day- 27km and rising to 1500m then back down to a steep descent to Molinaseca. As I started to climb I realized I needed to tale off my inner jacket so I decided to stop at the next appropriate stop. I could see a tree up ahead then saw something that made me laugh. Tied to the tree was a swing- with with red seat. I took off my pack and looked closer at the seat and it said,"play!". I got on the swing and laughed and laughed. I pumped so I went higher and higher - and looked up at the sky through the branches. It was the best! I felt it was a gift just for me - it couldn't be more appropriate. My grandchildren would have loved to see their Nana swinging... I thought of that many times today and laughed. It was great. This is some Camino.
With the rain getting harder I eagerly arrived at the first town Foncebaden only to discover they only had tostadas (toast) to eat. Still it was warm and the tea tasted good. After this I arrived at the Cruz de Ferro - a place where pilgrims leave stones they have brought from home and also messages, altars, and many rejected boots. It apparently was something the celts used to do- place stones as a way of appeasing the mountain gods and to ask for safe passage through the mountains. Astrid- my Germanic Swiss friend from the night before - and I walked to the Cruz de Ferro, then along down the mountain. The path was slick and rocky. Astrid chose the road solely. I wove on and out of the trail, but after afancy ballet move
chose the roadway for some distance. It was hard on the body and pretty uninteresting with the exception of there being once again Heather plants, bit this time big bushes 2-3 ft tall and covered with new growth and many ready to bloom. It continued to warm my heart. But lest I get heady on its meaning for me alone- in German the very same flower is called "Erica!".
In walking down this never ending 10km to the next town, I walked with another French Canadian from Quebec City named Marise. I certainly seem to be destined to speaking French, but have to say Im loving it and can actually carry on a conversation now - half intelligently at least. I have to say everyone has been very generous with their acceptance of my stumbling.
Back on the trail we eventually arrived at El Acebo and found all sorts of friends from the trail drying out and enjoying delicious warm soup, hot chocolate and chocolate muffins. Good for the endorphines!
Back out in the rain it was to be a long 9km to Molinaseca with a steep descent. I had no idea how challenging it was going to be. I was "skating" on the mud, then walking down riverbeds, fording streams over logs and watching my steps on the rock beds. Except it was the most amazing and pleasurable 9 very difficult km. I followed a group of Soith Koreans I have seen off and on since St Jean. A couple, though mainly the husband sang arias for the full 9 km. An extraordinary experience. Beautiful this Camino. And the scenery was stunning.
Molinaseca is a beautiful little town and Im in a friendly little inn with a heated radiator. It continues to rain but I am very happy.
Now to dinner. Heather
The pathway down the mountain was very rugged and slick.
Today I started early in the dark and the rain. It was to be a long day climbing to
Scotland where there was lots of Heather blooming. But then I suppose I was in a very
different place within myself this time.
Then the path narrowed and we walked
There was no weefee available last night, so was not able to make a post. I did not say anything on my last post about my feet, and feel I should because we walked 27km that day and then another 27km today. I must say they have been real troopers, though it is very different from the beginning. We have many conversations now and I consult my feet on these long treks. On that former long day, I did stop several times to air,Examine, massage and occasionally cream my feet. Also, for the last 4km I changed into my sandals which made them very happy.
Many times I have been reminded by a favourite miller childhood story called "Theres no such thing as a dragon". Billy tells his mother there is a dragon in his room and mother tells him there's no such thing as a dragon. Several times she repeats this as the dragon continues to grow until it takes up the whole house. The last scene shows a small dragon on mothers lap and she says she doesn't mind dragons this size and she couldn't understand why he had to grow so big. In Billys childhood wisdom, he says he thinks the dragon just wants to be noticed.
A wonderful metaphor for many things, and certainly for my feet. It's a relationship like any other- we all want to be noticed and respected, and now I respect the deeper wisdom of my feet
even when my will/mind wants to take over.
Astorga was a beautiful town and I left later than usual yesterday morning. The moon was just a sliver. It was cool as the sun rose to reveal a tree lined street splendid in fall colours of orange and gold. Our path was beside a path where many teams were out for their morning run.
I stopped a couple of times to have a tortilla and tea, then a bocodilla and coke for lunch. Marie caught up with me a couple of times, but I was having a very pensive day. I was reflecting on why I was doing this Camino.
One reason was that I wanted to trust the wisdom of my body and to be guided from that place. And my feet certainly have been helping me along with that one. In fact at one point I stopped and put on my sandals- we were feeling very free and the sun was glorious.
But there is also a reality in my life that I have had a lot of difficulty in honouring myself and claiming my own authority in my life. It has led me to seek out many things and become a bit of an eternal student. But of course those achievements are in large part external; as well this lack of belief has kept me from putting myself out in the world- almost a fear of being judged.
As I was walking along the trail, the valley opened up to reveal a large swath of purple heather in bloom. As I walked along more and more became apparent. It was almost overwhelming, but I was transfixed by the magnitude of it all. It extended as far as I could see and beyond. The scene said to me, there is heather in all it's/your glory. Not in a narcissistic way, but in a graphic honouring. And I felt I took it in in a new way in every cell of my body. It was an amazing recognition for me that brought me to tears. It also struck me that I did not have that same recognition when Margo and I were in the highlands of Scotland but then I was in a very different place this time.
Then the path narrowed and we walked along a protected path beside a wire fence. All over the fence were crosses made out sticks and decorated with mosses, leaves, heather and all sorts of creative presentations. The walkway must of extended for 1-2 km. And the fence was covered with these little altars. An honouring of human connections- of tributes, prayers, love, loss, hope. This Camino is much more than a religious journey even in a Holy Year. It is about soul. Of what is truly important in peoples lives. And because it is a long journey involving each persons body, this path is about embodying soul. It Gives me a great deal of hope for our world and our humanity. I stopped to place a few of my own crosses for friends and loved ones.
Today was a very rich journey and U appreciated the solitude.
A special dish of this area is called Cocido Maragato - a topsy turvy dinner with the meat course first followed by vegetables then soup. Encouraged by my Brazilian friends I decided to try it. The meat was all sorts of pork- feet, ear, knuckle, hock- all well cooked and very tasty- but enough to feed an army. I ate my fill then took the rest to some south Korean friends who delighted in it. The vegetables were cabbage and chick peas and the soup like a pale chicken noodle soup. I'm happy I tried it, but once is enough.
I had dinner with a woman I had crossed paths with many times, but she spoke french in such a quiet voice I didn't have a lot of confidence in communicating with her. I learned she is SwissAllemagn and has just retired as a social worker. We got on famously and had lots of laughs together.
I started out early this morning in the dark and in the rain. It would be another long day- 27km and rising to 1500m then back down to a steep descent to Molinaseca. As I started to climb I realized I needed to tale off my inner jacket so I decided to stop at the next appropriate stop. I could see a tree up ahead then saw something that made me laugh. Tied to the tree was a swing- with with red seat. I took off my pack and looked closer at the seat and it said,"play!". I got on the swing and laughed and laughed. I pumped so I went higher and higher - and looked up at the sky through the branches. It was the best! I felt it was a gift just for me - it couldn't be more appropriate. My grandchildren would have loved to see their Nana swinging... I thought of that many times today and laughed. It was great. This is some Camino.
With the rain getting harder I eagerly arrived at the first town Foncebaden only to discover they only had tostadas (toast) to eat. Still it was warm and the tea tasted good. After this I arrived at the Cruz de Ferro - a place where pilgrims leave stones they have brought from home and also messages, altars, and many rejected boots. It apparently was something the celts used to do- place stones as a way of appeasing the mountain gods and to ask for safe passage through the mountains. Astrid- my Germanic Swiss friend from the night before - and I walked to the Cruz de Ferro, then along down the mountain. The path was slick and rocky. Astrid chose the road solely. I wove on and out of the trail, but after afancy ballet move
chose the roadway for some distance. It was hard on the body and pretty uninteresting with the exception of there being once again Heather plants, bit this time big bushes 2-3 ft tall and covered with new growth and many ready to bloom. It continued to warm my heart. But lest I get heady on its meaning for me alone- in German the very same flower is called "Erica!".
In walking down this never ending 10km to the next town, I walked with another French Canadian from Quebec City named Marise. I certainly seem to be destined to speaking French, but have to say Im loving it and can actually carry on a conversation now - half intelligently at least. I have to say everyone has been very generous with their acceptance of my stumbling.
Back on the trail we eventually arrived at El Acebo and found all sorts of friends from the trail drying out and enjoying delicious warm soup, hot chocolate and chocolate muffins. Good for the endorphines!
Back out in the rain it was to be a long 9km to Molinaseca with a steep descent. I had no idea how challenging it was going to be. I was "skating" on the mud, then walking down riverbeds, fording streams over logs and watching my steps on the rock beds. Except it was the most amazing and pleasurable 9 very difficult km. I followed a group of Soith Koreans I have seen off and on since St Jean. A couple, though mainly the husband sang arias for the full 9 km. An extraordinary experience. Beautiful this Camino. And the scenery was stunning.
Molinaseca is a beautiful little town and Im in a friendly little inn with a heated radiator. It continues to rain but I am very happy.
Now to dinner. Heather
The pathway down the mountain was very rugged and slick.
Today I started early in the dark and the rain. It was to be a long day climbing to
Scotland where there was lots of Heather blooming. But then I suppose I was in a very
different place within myself this time.
Then the path narrowed and we walked
Monday, October 4, 2010
Astorga
Dear Family and Friends
Wee fee not so good in Villadangos del Paramo, and it was cold and raining. Had a snooze in the afternoon. A strange occurance but quite delightful.
Left Leon at the crack of dawn. Some bikers and I tried to find the markings in the dark when a sergeant major came walking by like the pied piper. Soon there was a ragtag group heading out of town with yours truly bringing up the rear. I was quite grateful since it was a dark and dingy route and quite complicated. Soon the rains started to make an appearance so all the pilgrims were stopping to don their rain gear.
As we descended the roadway onto a nice path a group of 4 frenchmen I had spoken to earlier broke into tenor music. I'd swear they were the group Simon (American Idol) put together to rival/replace (?) the 3 tenors. They were fantastic. I had learned earlier that morning that a good friend I had been with for a week in Hawaii had just died, so I was walking with a heavy heart. Walking a souless route along a high traffic route, their singing brought a sense of soul to my heart, honouring Kathreen's spirit.
A little later I met up with Igor and Victor- the young Spanish men who were now trying to reach Santiago by the 13th. Igor, a professional photographer on contract with Lonely Planet is going to Barcelona to study photojournalism and Victor is studying languages at university.
We walked together for a bit then parted. We would connect a few more times before saying a final goodbye. At the top of a hill a car pulled out andstopped. As I walked by he handed me handsfull of ripe prune plums for me and to share with other pilgrims. Then not too far ahead a man set up a stand greeting pilgrims offering fresh fruit, sello (stamp for our credential which has to be stamped at each stop to be presented at Santiago for our Compostella. ).
It is just one if the many delightful surprises on the Camino.
Arrival at villadangos del Paramos was otherwise uneventful.
I met there 2 German men who started cycling in Munich Sept 1. Cycling 80-100km/day. They found this day very gruelling with the huge headwind and rain. At dinner a Frenchman (a country doctor) from Brittany joined us who speaks in Celtic language. Today I met up with him and he spoke in this language which did sound very unique. Not quite french, but familiar all
the same.
Once again I left in the dark, finding it difficult to find the markings leading me out of town. I was thankful I had a little light to alert motorists as I crossed the bridge on the roadway. Eventually I found the path. There was a sliver of a moon and soon the light began to bring relief to the landscape.
At the first town I came upon a woman/fellow peregrino. I spike to her and discovered she was French Canadian from Montreal. She had started in La Puy in May, then travelled elsewhere when it got hot. However, she had had problems with her ankles being unstable and had just bought new boots in Leon and was having problems with one of her ankles. At one point we stopped and I taped the foam padding I had received for my blisters from the hospital on Santa Dominga de
la Cazada. She called me her angel and I was pleased to be able to help out someone else since the universe had been so good to me. I learned that she is a writer of childrens books and also works as an art therapist in mental health in Montreal. Such a small world.
We walked together until Hospital de Orbigo where Linda would take the bus to Astorga where she could get some medical help before entering into mountainous terrain.
When we stopped for refreshment we met Marie, from Aix-le-province in southern France.
We walked together for a bit,separated,then joined up again later and spent a pleasant afternoon together speaking French,laughing and enjoying each others company.
About 6km from Astorga we came upon a stand where a Spanish fellow named David had all manner of goods- coffee/tea, fruit, baked goods, fruit juices etc. Free for the taking with only a small box marked "donations ". He also spoke french, German, English - all the languages that were represented by all who gathered there. He had hearts painted all over his stand and apparently has a website. When he heard that I was from Vamcouver he said je had been there and referenced Eckhart Tolle. He was amazed when I told him I often see Eckhart walking his dog. A German woman there had never heard of him so we gave her the names of his books. Such a small world. I love it. Such is life on the Camino.
Today was a long 27 km. I walked through the woods and a very challenging rocky road, but far better than walking along the road.
Tomorrow- Rabanal del Camino. Signing off from Beautiful Astorga. Heather
Wee fee not so good in Villadangos del Paramo, and it was cold and raining. Had a snooze in the afternoon. A strange occurance but quite delightful.
Left Leon at the crack of dawn. Some bikers and I tried to find the markings in the dark when a sergeant major came walking by like the pied piper. Soon there was a ragtag group heading out of town with yours truly bringing up the rear. I was quite grateful since it was a dark and dingy route and quite complicated. Soon the rains started to make an appearance so all the pilgrims were stopping to don their rain gear.
As we descended the roadway onto a nice path a group of 4 frenchmen I had spoken to earlier broke into tenor music. I'd swear they were the group Simon (American Idol) put together to rival/replace (?) the 3 tenors. They were fantastic. I had learned earlier that morning that a good friend I had been with for a week in Hawaii had just died, so I was walking with a heavy heart. Walking a souless route along a high traffic route, their singing brought a sense of soul to my heart, honouring Kathreen's spirit.
A little later I met up with Igor and Victor- the young Spanish men who were now trying to reach Santiago by the 13th. Igor, a professional photographer on contract with Lonely Planet is going to Barcelona to study photojournalism and Victor is studying languages at university.
We walked together for a bit then parted. We would connect a few more times before saying a final goodbye. At the top of a hill a car pulled out andstopped. As I walked by he handed me handsfull of ripe prune plums for me and to share with other pilgrims. Then not too far ahead a man set up a stand greeting pilgrims offering fresh fruit, sello (stamp for our credential which has to be stamped at each stop to be presented at Santiago for our Compostella. ).
It is just one if the many delightful surprises on the Camino.
Arrival at villadangos del Paramos was otherwise uneventful.
I met there 2 German men who started cycling in Munich Sept 1. Cycling 80-100km/day. They found this day very gruelling with the huge headwind and rain. At dinner a Frenchman (a country doctor) from Brittany joined us who speaks in Celtic language. Today I met up with him and he spoke in this language which did sound very unique. Not quite french, but familiar all
the same.
Once again I left in the dark, finding it difficult to find the markings leading me out of town. I was thankful I had a little light to alert motorists as I crossed the bridge on the roadway. Eventually I found the path. There was a sliver of a moon and soon the light began to bring relief to the landscape.
At the first town I came upon a woman/fellow peregrino. I spike to her and discovered she was French Canadian from Montreal. She had started in La Puy in May, then travelled elsewhere when it got hot. However, she had had problems with her ankles being unstable and had just bought new boots in Leon and was having problems with one of her ankles. At one point we stopped and I taped the foam padding I had received for my blisters from the hospital on Santa Dominga de
la Cazada. She called me her angel and I was pleased to be able to help out someone else since the universe had been so good to me. I learned that she is a writer of childrens books and also works as an art therapist in mental health in Montreal. Such a small world.
We walked together until Hospital de Orbigo where Linda would take the bus to Astorga where she could get some medical help before entering into mountainous terrain.
When we stopped for refreshment we met Marie, from Aix-le-province in southern France.
We walked together for a bit,separated,then joined up again later and spent a pleasant afternoon together speaking French,laughing and enjoying each others company.
About 6km from Astorga we came upon a stand where a Spanish fellow named David had all manner of goods- coffee/tea, fruit, baked goods, fruit juices etc. Free for the taking with only a small box marked "donations ". He also spoke french, German, English - all the languages that were represented by all who gathered there. He had hearts painted all over his stand and apparently has a website. When he heard that I was from Vamcouver he said je had been there and referenced Eckhart Tolle. He was amazed when I told him I often see Eckhart walking his dog. A German woman there had never heard of him so we gave her the names of his books. Such a small world. I love it. Such is life on the Camino.
Today was a long 27 km. I walked through the woods and a very challenging rocky road, but far better than walking along the road.
Tomorrow- Rabanal del Camino. Signing off from Beautiful Astorga. Heather
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Leon
Dear Friends and Family
The signal is weak here so I'll hope for the best. There was no wifi nor computer at my hostal last night so I was unable to make a post.
After I wrote my blog at Sahagun I took a shower and discovered I had left a couple of critical items in Calzadilla de la Cueza. I recalled checking the room and even looking under the bed but I recalled my ( one and only)bra and socks were not quite dry so I put them on the radiator. Being the se colour as the radiator I did not see them. I tried to not beat myself up and set off to replace my items. When you travel light, there's not much leeway for losses.
Although Sahagun is a bigger town, it is very dates and perhaps a bit depressed. I gathered the little Spanish I knew and asked where I could buy some socks. I was directed to a little shop about the size of our kitchen that contained goods from clothing appliances hardware - a good old fashioned country store. They happened to have one pair- my size- merino hiking socks which are awesome with my sandals. As Marg and I discovered in Russia, pantomime goes a long way in a foreign country. Indeed they not only had just one bra, I got led behind the counter and into the office where I discovered a perfect fit and pretty too:). Also dries faster.
although the place seemed very clean, I was a little disconcerted to have found a few bugs that suspiciously looked like bedbugs. I am learning a deeper compassion for myself and thereby for others, but I have not yet learned to extend that to creepy crawlies while walking across a foreign country. I did not give them a Buddhists welcome Im afraid. I slapped on some teatree oil before bed hoping that might ward them off. Happily I set off early the next morning free of any intruders.
I indulged in a chocolate croissant and hot chocolate at the bakery at the end of my street
before heading off into the dark. It was a very peaceful morning as I made my way once again guided by the moon. The wind was blowing and it was quite brisk. Only one other pilgrim was ahead of me. These solitary mornings are a real treasure and I find lines of poetry coming to me as I walk. I stopped for some tortilla and tea and a visit with friends then proceeded along the path lined all 14km more with sycamor trees. Their leaves look like maple leaves bit the bark on the trunks peel off. They stand like protective sentries all along the path.
There is an amazing amount of bridge construction underway- very generative activity. I counted at least 4 new bridges being built. One caused the path to detour and stones painted yellow guided the way along with arrows created with yellow painted stones. It felt like very attentive detail.
I came across a small vinyard where they were harvesting the grapes by hand. I asked to take a picture then they gave me a bunch of grapes to eat as I walked. They were small but very sweet.
The pathway came close to the roadway and had a very suburban feel. I put on Oliver Schroer on my iPod. A number of years ago Oliver walked the Camino and carried his violin/fiddle and recording equipment and composed music on the way, playing in town squares, churches, whatever was a available. It is entitled Camino, and also includes sounds of the camino like feet walking, cow bells, and church bells. I used to listen to in in the months leading up to my walk as I imagined myself there/here. Not very many months after he walked the camino, he was diagnosed with leukemia and later died. It is very soulful music and as I walked my thoughts took me to my mother for whom I dedicated this blog. Mother daughter relationships are very complicated, often punctuated with conflict. But the music wound itself around both of us and held us in my heart as a mother does to comfort a child - only we were both mother and child. Because in the end, all we want is to be seen and loved for who we are. That is the gift dementia has given to my mother. Women (and men) of that generation have untold griefs hidden so deep inside, often it is the next generation who is able to heal the wounds through an honouring of their own feelings. It was a very beautiful walk into El Burgo Ranero.
Jenny and Marcie,my young American friends and their Spanish friends Igor and Victor from Burgos were buying food for paella, and they invited me for lunch/ around 3 at the albergue which was across the street from my hostal. Igor was the chef in charge. I hadn't realiZed paella was made similar to risotto. Six of us sat down to a delicious and filling
meal. One of the things a pilgrim misses by staying Ina hostal is the sense of community around shared living space, so I appreciated the opportunity to share in the activity. Several friends I had made arrived while we ate so it was good to catch up with them. Since I took no part in the preparation I was happy to do cleanup duty. I was told ar the grocery store that the volunteer at the albergue was Canadian and didn't speak any Spanish. He is from Edmonton and walked from st Jean, stopped to volunteer for 2 weeks then will continue to santiago.
When I arrived back to my hostal there was a big group of pilgrims many I have come to know. We sat around having beer or wine, then all gathered for dinner. (I only had an appie being full on paella) There were two from Ireland, two from New Zealand, two from Brazil, one from Germany, one from Australia- a priest and myself. It was extraordinary and delightful.
Today I headed for Mansilla de las Mulas. It was much as yesterday was - dark,moon
beautiful sunrise, sycamor tree lined
pathway for 13km then another 7 or8. I have found that the best antidote to a painful back from carrying a pack ia yoga. Asanas relieve the stress incredibly, particularly sun salutation. I also greeted the moon with my own half moon. Just before I arrived in Mansilla, there was a beautiful grasses park where I took off my shoes and used the grass as my yoga mat. After my asanas shavasana in the sun looking at the clouds go by was pure heaven.
I also had an honest discussion with my feet. I have been taking turns with my boots since once the rains come, I will not be able to wear my sandals ( which are a dream to walk in).
At the 13km mark I tried something new when I changed into my boots.
I used cream for massage, then put two liner socks and tied my boots on the 3rd set of holes from the toe. ( a little tip from my new Zealand friend) Bonanza! My feet are happy as clams. I might not have figures it out had I not lefty socks behind. So in this little discussion with mes piedos, we planned on walking another 7 or 8 km (if I changed back into my sandals). then taking the bus into Leon from Puente de Velerente.
I decided I wanted to make it to Santiago by the 16th so I have some time there as well as
Madrid- perhaps even a day trip to finisterre.
However, since this is Sabado (Saturday), the last bus to Leon was in less than30 min. So I made another executive decision to skip ( all of 20 min by bus) and a whole day of walking to get me back on schedule.
Now, in the lexicon of the camino this is very contraversial. There are purists that walk only, carry their packs, and stay in aubergues except for the odd treat.
Others opt to have their bags carried, stay in hostals, but never take the bus.
Others opt to bypass the boring bits by bus and think nothing of it. When I took the bus to Santa Domingo because of blisters, one of my camino friends asked me why I took the bus, then proceeded to ask me why Didnt I just take the bus to Santiago?
But I have spent my life following all " the rules". I realiZe I did not provide enough time for a leisurely walk along with blister rest days, so have opted to make the most of what is more exciting to me, and that doesn't include walking into a big city. I figure one of the benefits of getting older is to choose what suits me best and thatbis what I have done. Feels quite good I have to say.
It was fun to wander aimlessly in Leon. I went to see the Cathedral- the windows are beautiful, though I think Chartres is still more beautiful. There was a wedding going on even as tourists looked around the church. Then I discovered a craft market very similar to the one we saw with the MacDonalds in Pamplona several years ago. There were even a group of pipers
and drums- very different looking pipes. I took a couple of videos Rob for you to see.
Tomorrow I head for Villadangos del Paramo. That's the gleanings of the Camino with 319km to go. Heather
So that about
The signal is weak here so I'll hope for the best. There was no wifi nor computer at my hostal last night so I was unable to make a post.
After I wrote my blog at Sahagun I took a shower and discovered I had left a couple of critical items in Calzadilla de la Cueza. I recalled checking the room and even looking under the bed but I recalled my ( one and only)bra and socks were not quite dry so I put them on the radiator. Being the se colour as the radiator I did not see them. I tried to not beat myself up and set off to replace my items. When you travel light, there's not much leeway for losses.
Although Sahagun is a bigger town, it is very dates and perhaps a bit depressed. I gathered the little Spanish I knew and asked where I could buy some socks. I was directed to a little shop about the size of our kitchen that contained goods from clothing appliances hardware - a good old fashioned country store. They happened to have one pair- my size- merino hiking socks which are awesome with my sandals. As Marg and I discovered in Russia, pantomime goes a long way in a foreign country. Indeed they not only had just one bra, I got led behind the counter and into the office where I discovered a perfect fit and pretty too:). Also dries faster.
although the place seemed very clean, I was a little disconcerted to have found a few bugs that suspiciously looked like bedbugs. I am learning a deeper compassion for myself and thereby for others, but I have not yet learned to extend that to creepy crawlies while walking across a foreign country. I did not give them a Buddhists welcome Im afraid. I slapped on some teatree oil before bed hoping that might ward them off. Happily I set off early the next morning free of any intruders.
I indulged in a chocolate croissant and hot chocolate at the bakery at the end of my street
before heading off into the dark. It was a very peaceful morning as I made my way once again guided by the moon. The wind was blowing and it was quite brisk. Only one other pilgrim was ahead of me. These solitary mornings are a real treasure and I find lines of poetry coming to me as I walk. I stopped for some tortilla and tea and a visit with friends then proceeded along the path lined all 14km more with sycamor trees. Their leaves look like maple leaves bit the bark on the trunks peel off. They stand like protective sentries all along the path.
There is an amazing amount of bridge construction underway- very generative activity. I counted at least 4 new bridges being built. One caused the path to detour and stones painted yellow guided the way along with arrows created with yellow painted stones. It felt like very attentive detail.
I came across a small vinyard where they were harvesting the grapes by hand. I asked to take a picture then they gave me a bunch of grapes to eat as I walked. They were small but very sweet.
The pathway came close to the roadway and had a very suburban feel. I put on Oliver Schroer on my iPod. A number of years ago Oliver walked the Camino and carried his violin/fiddle and recording equipment and composed music on the way, playing in town squares, churches, whatever was a available. It is entitled Camino, and also includes sounds of the camino like feet walking, cow bells, and church bells. I used to listen to in in the months leading up to my walk as I imagined myself there/here. Not very many months after he walked the camino, he was diagnosed with leukemia and later died. It is very soulful music and as I walked my thoughts took me to my mother for whom I dedicated this blog. Mother daughter relationships are very complicated, often punctuated with conflict. But the music wound itself around both of us and held us in my heart as a mother does to comfort a child - only we were both mother and child. Because in the end, all we want is to be seen and loved for who we are. That is the gift dementia has given to my mother. Women (and men) of that generation have untold griefs hidden so deep inside, often it is the next generation who is able to heal the wounds through an honouring of their own feelings. It was a very beautiful walk into El Burgo Ranero.
Jenny and Marcie,my young American friends and their Spanish friends Igor and Victor from Burgos were buying food for paella, and they invited me for lunch/ around 3 at the albergue which was across the street from my hostal. Igor was the chef in charge. I hadn't realiZed paella was made similar to risotto. Six of us sat down to a delicious and filling
meal. One of the things a pilgrim misses by staying Ina hostal is the sense of community around shared living space, so I appreciated the opportunity to share in the activity. Several friends I had made arrived while we ate so it was good to catch up with them. Since I took no part in the preparation I was happy to do cleanup duty. I was told ar the grocery store that the volunteer at the albergue was Canadian and didn't speak any Spanish. He is from Edmonton and walked from st Jean, stopped to volunteer for 2 weeks then will continue to santiago.
When I arrived back to my hostal there was a big group of pilgrims many I have come to know. We sat around having beer or wine, then all gathered for dinner. (I only had an appie being full on paella) There were two from Ireland, two from New Zealand, two from Brazil, one from Germany, one from Australia- a priest and myself. It was extraordinary and delightful.
Today I headed for Mansilla de las Mulas. It was much as yesterday was - dark,moon
beautiful sunrise, sycamor tree lined
pathway for 13km then another 7 or8. I have found that the best antidote to a painful back from carrying a pack ia yoga. Asanas relieve the stress incredibly, particularly sun salutation. I also greeted the moon with my own half moon. Just before I arrived in Mansilla, there was a beautiful grasses park where I took off my shoes and used the grass as my yoga mat. After my asanas shavasana in the sun looking at the clouds go by was pure heaven.
I also had an honest discussion with my feet. I have been taking turns with my boots since once the rains come, I will not be able to wear my sandals ( which are a dream to walk in).
At the 13km mark I tried something new when I changed into my boots.
I used cream for massage, then put two liner socks and tied my boots on the 3rd set of holes from the toe. ( a little tip from my new Zealand friend) Bonanza! My feet are happy as clams. I might not have figures it out had I not lefty socks behind. So in this little discussion with mes piedos, we planned on walking another 7 or 8 km (if I changed back into my sandals). then taking the bus into Leon from Puente de Velerente.
I decided I wanted to make it to Santiago by the 16th so I have some time there as well as
Madrid- perhaps even a day trip to finisterre.
However, since this is Sabado (Saturday), the last bus to Leon was in less than30 min. So I made another executive decision to skip ( all of 20 min by bus) and a whole day of walking to get me back on schedule.
Now, in the lexicon of the camino this is very contraversial. There are purists that walk only, carry their packs, and stay in aubergues except for the odd treat.
Others opt to have their bags carried, stay in hostals, but never take the bus.
Others opt to bypass the boring bits by bus and think nothing of it. When I took the bus to Santa Domingo because of blisters, one of my camino friends asked me why I took the bus, then proceeded to ask me why Didnt I just take the bus to Santiago?
But I have spent my life following all " the rules". I realiZe I did not provide enough time for a leisurely walk along with blister rest days, so have opted to make the most of what is more exciting to me, and that doesn't include walking into a big city. I figure one of the benefits of getting older is to choose what suits me best and thatbis what I have done. Feels quite good I have to say.
It was fun to wander aimlessly in Leon. I went to see the Cathedral- the windows are beautiful, though I think Chartres is still more beautiful. There was a wedding going on even as tourists looked around the church. Then I discovered a craft market very similar to the one we saw with the MacDonalds in Pamplona several years ago. There were even a group of pipers
and drums- very different looking pipes. I took a couple of videos Rob for you to see.
Tomorrow I head for Villadangos del Paramo. That's the gleanings of the Camino with 319km to go. Heather
So that about
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