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
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