Basque culture

Mi camino, my path is also my life and I would like to share some of the colours and textures of Spanish life that I plan to discover over the next few months or so.

Right now I am in the Basque Country and its traditions and language are much older than the Spain that exists today. Today is St. Thomas day and it is a day to celebrate pigs. Luckily I missed St. Martin´s day when the pigs are killed and instead I get to enjoy the market and music today where the pigs are cooked and eaten. This morning around 12:00pm, because in Spain the morning goes until about 2:00 or 3:00pm, the market area was full of people wearing small green kerchiefs around their knecks and small black, basque berets on their heads. Making our way through the sea of people we eventually got to a stand where they were preparing ´Talo´ a round, tortilla-like corn bread that is served with your choice of pig parts and downed with a glass of cider. I picked sausage because it was one of the easier words to pronounce. There were also lots of people selling mistletoe which I was told is for good luck. There was a big street party downtown and we danced for a while and then went to listen to the music of a basque music group called ´Oskorri´. They were on a stage with a lot of students and it was a sing-a-long. At first I thought we were singing basque Christmas songs, but then I was told it was they were in fact folk songs . The language is surprisingly phonetic, but not so easy to understand.

In a few days Olentxero ( ´tx´ in Euskera is pronounced ´ch´) the basque Santa Claus is coming. I will translate his story when I learn more about him. Zorionak (Merry Christmas)!

What to pack
When I got to my friends house one of the things I did was empty my backpack and I wanted to share the list of some of the things I have been carrying around with me with others in the event you are now inspired to go on a pilgrimmage. What to bring really depends on the season and the most important thing is that you should determine what is best for you. Having now written the list it seems quite long and I will preface that by saying I might have inherited a bit of a tendency to be a packrat like my father.

Backpacks – I think my back pack is 30 or 35 L in size and I knew if it had more space that I would fill it. I never weighed the bag and generally responded to the question how much does it way by saying too much.
Pay attention to the straps because the weight distribution is important. I feel that my backpack was designed for a man´s body and that I would have been better having a bigger waist strap to carry more of the weight on my hips. The catch is if you want a more significant waist strap the bag will have to be of a bigger volume. The top strap that I liked to use to bring the weight of the bag closer to my body I was never able to adjust comfortably. I wanted to be able to slide it just a little higher up so that it did not press into my breasts and when I slid it lower it created an uncomfortable pain in the muscles in my back. I was told my backpack had a nice feature of having a frame that created a bit of space between the bag and my back, but with this also came a clip mid-back that started to dig into my back when I was carrying too much weight in the bag. Why I mention this is that I think it is important to pay attention to how the bag sits against your back.
I liked the pockets on the bag and I had a bit of a system where plastic bags were like drawers to organize my clothes and belongings. Remember you have to unpack and re-pack your bag everyday.

Hiking boots or shoes – It is really a personal preference. In general I prefer shoes, but I had boots thinking I would have better ankle support. For the most part the paths are pretty easy to walk on, but there are some parts where there are lots of little rocks and I really did not appreciate these until it rained. With the rain it was often like walking through little streams and there was lots of mud, so waterproofing is a must. Make sure to wear your shoes a lot before you start. I also carried/wore a pair of running shoes because my feet needed time outside of hiking boots.

Walking stick – I got a walking stick because it might help take some of the weight and pressure off of my sore feet. I had a chestnut stick that I bought from a shop in Spain. It was helpful when climbing up and downhill and it also gave me a sense of security around the dogs. One man I met had personalized his walking stick by taping photos of his children taped to it and by carving some grooves in which he wrote the names of the towns he stopped in. If I were to walk it again I think I would consider having two walking sticks because it is more balanced when you walk. If you have one walking stick it is good to alternate which arm uses it, so as to avoid using one side too much and the possibility of getting walkers tendinitis.

Sleeping bag – I reccomend bringing one that is compact and lightweight. I also had a sheet liner to put inside, near the end I would have liked a fleece lining because I get cold easily. Usually there are blankets in the albergues that you can put on top and if it is really cold I reccomend putting one underneath as well. I did also carry a silver survival blanket which I never used, but I did see others using them in the chilly albergues. I made a conscious effort to keep my arms and head inside the bag while I slept after my mysterious bed bug experience. I was also told that you can shake the bugs off your bag and I liked to shake the bag a little bit before packing it up in the morning.

Inside Clothing- The most important thing about your clothes is that they dry quickly. Polyesther and polar fleece seemed to be the fabrics that dried the best. I probably had more clothes that I needed, but sometimes when there was no heating it took several nights for them to dry and I was never really sure how cold it would get. Ideally you wash your socks and underwear every night and other things when there is the possibility they might dry (i.e. radiators or sunshine). When they don´t dry at night you can always pin them to your backpack during the day.
I had three shirts (1 t-shirt, 1 light long sleeve shirts & 1 warmer one) and two undershirts, two pairs of pants ( 1 thin pair and 1 that could unzip to become shorts) and one pair of longunderwear too, five pairs of underwear and pairs of thin cotton socks and also two thicker socks. I did not have an official pair of pyjamas it was most often a combination of articles from the list above. The guys did not have a problem sleeping and parading around in their underwear, but often as the only girl I did not feel comfortable doing that.

Outside clothing – I am not sure where to put polar fleece on the list because I wore it almost all of the time and it also varied as pillow and blanket. I had a thin jacket and what I would call splash pants that were somewhat waterproof. The most popular rain gear for pilgrims seemed to be a rain poncho and what I understood to be called ´gators´ which are like waterproof leg warmers that go on top of your boot and up to your knee. Rain fashion also varied from plastic blue garbage bags to umbrellas. I ended up getting a light, inexpensive rain poncho near the end because it kept my backpack dry. Most backpacks come with a rain cover which is also very important. I also had a few accesories which included a tuque, scarf, mitts, sunhat and sunglasses. My mitts were wool and took a long time to dry, fleece would have been better and waterproof ones even more so.

Other accessories-
For the shower I had a lightweight ´adventure´ towel and a pair of flip-flops, which in Spanish have the fun name ´Changelas´. I had an assortment of toiletries (hairbrush, toothbrush, handsoap, etc. ) and I would also reccomend carrying a bit of kleenex or toilet paper in your pocket because there are times you may want it. If you are a light sleeper don´t forget earplugs because there are a lot of noisy sleepers.

From my small first aid kit I used the allergy cream, polysporin disinfectant cream, the ibuprofene gel (for sore muscles) and pills, a bit of gauze, some medical tape (to occasionally taped sensitive toes and the back of my heels), safety pins and some Compeed. I am glad I didn´t need to use anything else. I did have a bit of handcream and for a little while some ´Nok´ from France that I used occasionally to massage my feet.

I also had other miscellaneous items that included a small flashlight, whistle, compass, glow in the dark beetle, Rosary, Cross of St. Benedict, St. Christopher magnet, swiss army knife, matches, Saskatoon Centennial pin, watch with an alarm, passport belt, address book, photocopies of important documents including passport, medical insurance, garbage bag, a bit of rope ( for hanging clothes to dry) etc.

I carried water in a waterbladder that fit inside my backpack. I could put up to two litres in it and that was more than enough. I usually filled it half of it depending on the day. Just about every town has a water tap in the main square where you can get water, but sometimes there are significant stretches between towns. I carried more water than I needed to because the water bladder was a little hard to get out of the back and fill. Near the end I was told one litre equals one kilogram and I paid a bit more attention. A lot of people had water bottles.

I also carried a journal and guide book. I like the Pili Pala Press edition because it is Canadian and it has good descriptions. It would be better if it was pocket size and had better maps. I do not really reccommend bringing a book or music because there is not really time for them. I liked having a camera with me because I like taking photos. When I had the chance I would transfer the photos onto a USB memory card and also into an internet photo album. To do this it is also useful to carry a USB cable for your camera and a few extra batteries. A lot of the albergues have internet access which you pay about one Euro for 15- 30 minutes to use, if you have the chance it is free at the public library and occasionally bars will have a computer or two in a corner.

At the top of my bag I had a purse where I kept things that I wanted to carry with me in the evenings when I put my backpack down. A small waist bag might have been just as efficient and useful to access things while walking.

Food - The top pocket of my bag was a bit of a lunch box. I liked to have a reserve which included a bit of bread, an apple, some granola bars and nuts and usually some cheese. It is surprising the variety of sandwhiches that were invented on the road from cheeses, sandwhich meat, canned fish, patés and occasionally vegetables. I need to eat more than a Spanish breakfast in the morning which is usually coffee and a couple biscuits I tried to have cereal for a while. I had a small bag of granola and usually a bit of milk. More often than not the bowl was more of a challenge and than keeping milk without a fridge. First I should explain that milk in Spain is bought off the shelf in juice box like containers and second the temperature was often cool enough that having milk in water bottle in my bag was fine for up to three days. My first improvised bowl was cutting the milk box in half and the second was from cutting a 1.5 L water bottle in half. My swiss army knife has a spoon and fork so I did not have to be as creative as my dad who once chewed a carrot into spoon to eat some yoghurt while we were travelling in Ireland. Because I was afraid of running out of food I also often carried a bit of pasta or rice, powdered soup and a couple tea bags.

Maybe if I had written this list before I started I wouldn´t have carried so much. One person offered at one point to go through my bag for me and take things out he didn´t think I needed and it might have been a good idea. As my guide book suggests Spain is a very modern country and it is not like I was hiking in the wilderness in Canada or anything like that. This list might be useful, but it is also fun to learn as you go. I meant also to do a camino vocabulary list from ampollas (blisters), barro (mud), calefaccion (heating) to zanahorias (carrots), but I didn´t keep track of the words very well.

Travelling to Bilbao
On Sunday I caught the bus to Bilbao, a city in the Basque country where some good friends of mine live. An eleven hour bus ride to go back accross most of the distance I had walked over the past month and half. It was also a bit of a return to ´reality´ and to being with other people again.

I am under the impression in Spain that it is more common to take the bus and it is a little different than in Canada because you have assigned seating. I found myself seated next to man who really enjoyed listening to music and wore his headphones for the entire trip and at a considerable volume. I will admit that having been mostly in the countryside for the past month I am a little de-sensitized to noise. My first instinct was to say nothing and then I thought no I will politely ask him to turn down the volume. When I spoke to him he had a lot of difficulty understanding me and hearing me. He nicely offered me the headphones so that I could listen to the music for a while. I smiled, politely declined and came to the conclusion that he was deaf and I could practise being tolerant. It really is a small and trivial event, but I found it interesting to be more conscient of my behaviour. What I want to remember about the bus ride is feeling sincerely happy going back over the camino and the distance I covered. I felt at peace with myself which is something I haven´t felt for a long time.

After Santiago the real camino begins. I am more aware of the fact that I don´t like to bother people and that I often do what others want. My disappointment in arriving in Santiago the first time made me question a lot of things. What are my expectations in life and whose expectations am I trying to live up to. I don´t necessarily have any answers right now, but I feel like I have a bit more direction.

Leaving the Camino
I saw the sunrise over the ocean this morning and all the cloudiness of the thoughts on my mind from the night disappeared. Another new day and time to think while riding the bus. I really like Finisterre and I think it has been my favourite town so far and one of the reasons for that is that maybe I was myself for the first time. Everything went by so quickly and the distance I walked in one day was covered in twenty minutes. Looking back I saw the town of Finisterre and the mountain I had climbed. I was surprised at how big it looked because I didn´t really think about it at the time. It was one of many mountains I climbed and I had been excited about the view I would have from the top.

When I was back in Santiago I went back to the cathedral to attend an evening mass. Once again I found the mass hard to understand and mostly due to the thick accent the priest had when he spoke. I understood the main message of the homily was to be happy because of the presence of God. I haven´t seen any advent wreaths in Spain , but I thought about how this week the pink candle would be lit. Later that evening I was speaking to another pilgrim and he told me the mass had been in Gallega which I found quite funny because I am surprised I understood anything.

One of the pilgrim traditions I neglected on my previous visits to the Cathedral was to go to confession. Something that is not always an easy thing to do, but it was really a positive experience to talk with the priest about my pilgrimmage. Maybe that was why I was called back to the Cathedral.

Day 43 - walking to the end of the world and back again ( 17km)

This morning after a nice breakfast I set out to walk to Finisterre. As I left the albergue I saw a large dog by the side of the road and then two others. I took a deep breath because I knew just because I was not far away it could still be challenging walk. The first dog looked at me for a while and then went off the side. The two others met me at the spot where the dirt path started so I had to walk past them. As I approached one of the dogs ran ahead and then disappeared. The third was staring at me and came towards me and I was quite scared. As he got closer I pet him and he stepped back and came back to me. I realized that he only wanted to be petted and was not going to hurt me.

I was walking quite quickly because I had an arrangement to pick up my Fisterra certificate at the albergue before noon and I thought I had to meet someone as well. As I got closer to the first beach in my head I thought my camino makes a small detour here. It was about 9:30am and I could still see my breath, so I started to run to be a little warm. Having now been walking for about six weeks I feel like I have been shedding layers, opening up to others and that is what I did before running into the icy water. I loved how the crashing waves raced to meet me and the water felt so invigorating for about five minutes and I decided I better dry off. I walked quickly because that is how you stay warm when you are wet and I eventually got to Finisterre. I was side tracked by another beach and I walked along the edge of the water letting the waves race to meet my feet. I arrived a little late, so I decided to spend the night.

During the afternoon I walked out to the lighthouse climbing first to the top of Monte San Guillermo and was treated to an incredible view. When I got to the lighthouse I walked past it to sit on some rocks next to the remains of some charred hiking boots. I didn´t feel the need to burn my clothes or boots. I was told it smells awful and that there had been some problems with the forest fires. My boots seem to have finally reconciled with my feet and I might want to walk some more in the future. I sat there and wrote about my day. I had the crazy thought that the three dogs I met this morning in some ways represent three people I met during this camino. In other ways they represent my fears of getting hurt and the unknown. It was at that moment I decided my walking stick was like my security blanket and I threw it into the ocean.

As I walked back into town I knew my pilgrimmage was over and I was a little sad, but the night earlier I was told I should cry for important things and some things are really just important to me. I have shed a lot of tears on this trip maybe unnecessarily, but today I just stared out at the ocean. The clouds that had temporarily covered the sun cleared and I was back in the sunshine. I find it exciting to think that I have now walked over 800km accross an entire country.

This morning while walking on the beach I picked up a small scallop shell. I like it because it is not perfect like me, but still quite beautiful.

Day 42 - walking from Olveiroa to Corcubion (21km)

The walk this morning started through a thick magical fog. The path started to climb as the sun rose and it lit the large windmills close beside me. I stopped for some juice and then started on a long 15km stretch through the black remains of forests towards the ocean. I knew when I was close from the smell and then I caught a glimpse of the flat water on the horizon and it sent a chill of excitement down my back. I love the ocean and wanted to run towards it, but I was still quite far away. I stopped a little earlier today than I had originally planned in the town of Corcubion. When I had arrived in Santiago I rushed into the city and this time I would arrive the next day with a bit more energy in Finisterre.

That night it was just me and the Argentinian hospitalero and we had a good conversation that helped me unwind from all of the walking. I know a couple other pilgrims expected me to arrive in Finisterre with them, but I find I am often influenced to do things that other people want so it was good for me to stay. In our conversation and during our meal the hospitalero kept reminding me to do what I want. I was also told not to think too much about things, to live in the present and not worry too much about the past and the future. He used the idea of the backpack and how while walking you have to learn to take things out that you don´t need and in the same way in life you have to learn to not be weighed down by your thoughts. I was in luck because he is a Tango musician and I was reminded of another dream of mine which is to learn the Argentina tango preferrably in Argentina. It was treat to listen to him play the guitar in a quiet house not far from the ocean.

Day 41 - walking from Negreiro to Olveiroa (35km) It was a bit of a long walk today, but there are much fewer albergues on this trail. The best word to describe the trails today would be boggy. I started wearing my running shoes because it was raining, but it got to a point that I was better off wearing my boots to keep my feet a little dry and avoid blisters. I think I met the nicest dog of the camino today and it was rather unexpected. As I was walking I realized I had no more water in the pouch I keep in my bag. In the next town I decided I would ask someone. Walking down the street a dog came up to me in a very friendly manner walking beside me and even licked my hand. When I got to his house I saw a man inside and I asked about some water. The farmer had a thick Galician accent that I had a little trouble understanding, but he brought me to a tap inside his house. In the region of Galicia the language Gallego is spoken and from what I understand it is mix of Portuguese and Spanish. After I had my water I was given a tour to meet the puppies and calves. I spent about nine hours walking before I arrived at the albergue. It took a little longer than planned because of a detour and I was quite tired. I met up with the one other pilgrim that had been in the albergue the night before and cyclist who got lost on his way to Finisterre. There was not much in the town and the hospitalera prepared us a big pot of warm soup for supper.

Day 40 - walking from Santiago to Negreiro (22km) I have started the walk on to Finisterre because I am really not that far now. A friend who likes making decisions as much as I do suggested to me once that I could make a decision, think about it for a while and then depending how I felt about it stick with it or not. Really I wanted to keep walking and see the ocean. I was told that the trail was not so well indicated at the beginning and to ask lots of questions. When I got to a park and was a little confused I looked up and a man walking his dog raised his arm to show me where to go, so really I had very little trouble. The trail was as muddy as ever, but the sun was out and it was a beautiful afternoon walk. I started to see some of the Galician forests that were burnt in summer forest fires and a lot of farms with goats, cows and sheep grazing in the fields. I have started reflecting a little on the camino to Santiago and the incredible number of people that I have met. I sort of kept a list in my journal and think there are easily over a hundred people from all walks of life and from all over the world. I was suggested that my sore back may be due to the straps on my backpack and after playing around a little it seems to be more or less resolved. I also know I probably had too much weight in the backpack. My throat is a little sore and I find it amusing more than anything else because it seems different parts of my body are taking turns complaining.

Day 39 - Walking into Santiago a second time I think rushing into Santiago yesterday was a bit of a mistake and also thinking I had to make life decisions about what was next was also a little crazy. Before going to sleep in the Monte de Gozo albergue I had supper at the Prador hotel because they have a special arrangement for pilgrims with their compostela to get a free meal. Up to ten pilgrims can show up and you are ushered to room at the back to eat a filling supper. It was a nice surprise to meet up with two other Canadians. Santiago seemed to a be a city of pilgrim reunions and it was fun running into people in the streets and in the cathedral. Monday morning I climbed back up to the top of Monte de Gozo, sat on a special monument for John Paul II and watched the sunrise. It was a new day and the clouds seemed to be lifting off the trees like waves splashing in the ocean. I walked back down the hill into Santiago and saw dozens of yellow arrows that I had missed the day earlier, mostly because I was on the other side of the street. When I got to the cathedral I stopped in the main square and then lay down on the ground to take it in while basking in the bright sunshine. I later entered to sit through a second pilgrim´s mass and when the priest announced ´Canada and St. Jean Pied de Port´ in the list of pilgrims that had arrived I threw my arms up in the air to cheer. It really is a beautiful cathedral and walking around I saw lots of little chapels and carvings I had missed the first day. I am not really a fan of the ornate baroque style altar piece that seems to glitter with jewels and gold. I think in a lot of ways I find it closer to be God in nature. One of the pilgrims I met that day said the pilgrimmage was a way to gain perspective on your life and I liked that thought. I was also encouraged to keep walking.

Day 38 - Walking from Arca to Santiago (20 km)

I am here in Santiago and I wish someone would notice. We got up this morning around 6am in order to arrive at the Cathedral for the 12pm pilgrim mass. For the walk my guide book described a race to the top of Monte Gozo and then a view of the Cathedral dominating Santiago as you descend into town. I was even told earlier that climbing the last mountain before Santiago was like doing a mountain of cocaine. I got caught with my expectations and anticipation of dramatic entry into the city and the cathedral. I had to walk quickly to make sure that I would arrive on time for the mass. For the first stretch we were advised to walk along the highway for the first few kilometres to have some light, but then near the end the shoulder was no longer painted on the highway and I did not feel safe so I walked in the ditch. I was quite happy to see the camino trail appear on the side of the road and gladly switched on to it. The first part was well indicated and then yellow arrows were few and far between. When I got to Santiago I could no longer find arrows and I got a little lost. I guess in the real world, which is different than the timeless space of the camino, you have to find your own way around using maps. Because we were in a city and no longer in the country few people answered my greeting of ´hola´ and I was mostly ignored.A few pilgrims that I ran into a bit further on directed me to the Cathedral and I went in the side door to find a seat for mass. I was quite tired and only half understood what was read. After the celebration it was a mad rush for all visitors to do the pilgrim traditions of touching your hand to the central column in the entrance, head butting the bust of the architect and hugging the statue of Saint James. I was a little frustrated having to fight my way in line to touch the column that I had walked 776 km to get to. The one place it was quiet was in the crypt with the relics of the apostle Saint James. Afterwards I checked in the pilgrims office for my Compostela. A certificate to attest my walk and on which my first name is written in latin.

I was just out for lunch with an Irish couple I met early on and we celebrated. They reminded me the pilgrimmage is more about the journey than the destination. The two albergues in Santiago are closed right now so I am going to stay just outside of town in one albergue that is open. Tommorrow I want to rest, but I am considering continuing on to Finisterre.

Day 37 - walking from Arzua to Arca (19km)

I woke up last night around 2am with a smile on my face. The thought in my head was that God is going to decide when I arrive in Santiago and I have to try and accept that. As much as I would like to control my life it is not in my hands. Awake in the dormitory I could hear the many sounds that a room full of thirty or so pilgrims can make at night. It was far from quiet with all of the snoring and coughing. It was another albergue without heating. Some of the pilgrims had gotten out their silver survival blankets and had them overtop of their sleeping bags. I had arrived early and had one of the few blankets from the albergue.

When I got up in the morning my walking stick was gone. Normally albergues request that you leave them by the door and I had done so before going upstairs to lie down and rest my back. I didn´t really need it anymore I was more sentimentally attached to it and figured it would be good to practise walking without a stick. More than anything it was a way to scare away the stray dogs, but I think my rain poncho could be just as effective. Later on in the afternoon as it poured rain I walked past a group of pilgrims huddled in the entrance of the restaurant and I noticed that one had two walking sticks. I walked on ahead, but then stopped in a rest area not far ahead. When the group of three arrived I started asking them questions about what town we were in and then why the one guy had two walking sticks. He explained something about one for each hand, but he seemed to be using one, mine in particular and dragging the other one. Not long after they gave me back my walking stick. I might have been a little more generous if it was actually being used.

Another day of raining, but the albergue in Arca had heating and a real, functional kitchen. A French man and I both agreed it was like being in heaven which was in an albergue with the comforts of a real house. It was a bit of a reunion in the evening when I caught up with some pilgrims I hadn´t seen in over a month. Tommorrow we arrive in Santiago and it sort of feels like Christmas eve, over one month of walking and finally we are about to arrive.

Day 36 - walking from Melide to Arzua (14km)

It only rained a little bit this morning and the sun was out again. My back is sore today so I stopped walking early. Once again my body is telling me to slow down and it seems I haven´t quite learned the lesson that sometimes I shouldn´t try so hard to keep up with other people. I have a hard time accepting that I can´t walk as far or as fast as others. I am so close to Santiago, yet so far away at the same time. I was told that often you only start to take in the things you learned from the camino after it is over. More than anything else my back is sore because I have been carrying a reasonably heavy backpack everyday for over a month. Because of the holidays in Spain this week, today another a special day for the Virgin Mary, I have been carrying a little extra food because shops have been closed. I was told at the beginning that people often get weighed down by carrying things in their bag that they don´t actually need. These in a way can represent fears that you have and some times objects have no more than a sentimental value. I am not really sure what else to take out of my bag. Maybe I just need a bit of extra time to think today...

Day 35 - walking from Hospital da Cruz to Melide ( 24km)

Rain again today and I got to test the waterproofness of my boots by walking through more streams and as I suspected the boots failed the test. It seems in Galicia the greeting in the street is ´Que mal tiempo´ which means what bad weather instead of ´Buenos Dias´. I have seen on news reports scenes of flooding in other parts of Galicia and in comparison the camino trails are really not that bad.

The rain also meant I could try out my new ´cookie monster blue´ rain poncho which when pulled over my backpack gives a nice hunchback effect. I am definitely starting a new fashion trend with my poncho and the plastic shopping bags over my mitts. I saw fewer pilgrims today and probably mostly because my hood limited my vision. For a while I walked with a man from England and he started asking me what I am going to do after the pilgrimmage and it´s true I have only a few days left. I have a few plans, but as my mom likes to say we´ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Everyday walking on the camino is a new day for new adventures and to meet new people. It´s like life where you meet people some you travel with for a few days and others just pass you by. I am walking on my own, but I am never alone. There is a very nice comraderie between all of the pilgrims each on their own journey.

I arrived in Melide and got to taste another Galician specialty which is octopus that had a red pepper sprinkled over it. It was quite delicious and a nice way to end the rainy day.

Day 34 - Wednesday December 6th - walking from Sarria to Hospital da Cruz (33km)

The sun came out this morning and I was elated. It was if I was in another country and another season feeling the warmth of the light and I walked as long as I could to take in as much as I could. Even though it wasn´t raining I still got wet because the rain left a lot of little and not so little puddles on the pathways. Sometimes it was stepping from stone to stone to get accross, other times climbing up onto a stone wall and sometimes you just had to get wet. Today is Constitution day in Spain and I think a couple of the farmers were celebrating by killing a pig. One I heard squealing loudly and desperately from behind a barn and the other I had the pleasure of seeing right next to the camino.

For most of the morning I walked quietly on my own and then all of a sudden around 11am I was passed by about thirty other pilgrims. This week because of the holidays there are more pilgrims and also because I have crossed the 100km mark. It is a different dynamic with people walking quickly with small backpacks, others talking on their phones or smoking a cigarette while they walk and others in their own world listening to their headphones. I am trying not to judge them, but I don´t feel they are walking the same camino as me.

There is also a change in the albergues which are run by an independant Galician association and ask only for a donation. In some there are kitchens, but not always dishes or burners that function, the toilets do not always offer the luxury of toilet paper and heating is limited and often gets turned off at night.

I realize to an English speaker that if I say I am spending another night in town called ´Hospital´ it may seem a little questionable, but I am told its origins have something to do with hospitality offered to pilgrims.

Day 33 - Samos to Sarria (11km)

I stopped early today because I was drenched from the rain. Since my clothes were wet I decided it was a good time to do some laundry and the albergue had a dryer, a bit of a rarity. I also bought a rain poncho because it seems there is more rain ahead and also some Spanish holidays. Tommorrow is the Constitution day which seems only to mean that people don´t have to go to work.

Day 32 - walking from Fonfria to Samos ( 20 km or so)

It wasn´t raining as much today, but I was better prepared with plastic bags for everything in my back pack, my socks and my mitts. Most of the morning was spent going down hill going to Triacastela. I liked the name and suggested that I change my name because I know too many people with the name Katie. I was told that for short I would be called ´Tri´ and that Katie is not very common in Spain.

I decided to take the variant to visit the Monastery of Samos and found myself on another path that twisted and turned throughout the countryside and the clouds lifted for a little while so I can see a bit more of Galicia.

After I arrived I arranged to take a tour and had a few other pilgrims join me. I became the translator which was quite challenging because of the vocabulary and because I only more or less understood the explanations. I learned that the cloister is the biggest by dimension in Spain and I found really interesting the paintings on the walls on the second level that were done in the 1960s to show depictions of St. Benedict´s life. That evening we were invited to Visperas, the evening prayers that were sang Gregorian chant style by the small community of brothers that currently live in the monastery.

After that I somehow managed to find myself eating supper with a lively group of 12 from Saragoza. Friends from an Outdoor Ed club arranged to walk the camino and the meal became quite entertaining after they started drinking a ´romero´ liqueur and singing songs from their region. It didn´t last long because we had a 10pm curfew at the albergue.

Day 31 - December 3rd - walking from Vega de Valcarce to Fonfria (21,6km)

Today I am celebrating one month of walking because I walked out of Saint Jean Pied de Port on November 3rd, 633 kilometres ago. I have to admit it is starting to feel normal to walk every day and to carry backpack. It was also an exciting day because I crossed over into the most western communidad in Spain called Galicia. This region has always intrigued me because it has a bit of a celtic culture similar to Brittany in France. Santiago de Compostela is now about one week´s walk away. I was given a warm or rather cold welcome to the region by a lot of rain.

I was told that climbing the mountain O Cebreiro was one of the most challenging parts of the camino and I actually did not find it very difficult compared to some of the early days except for the wind and the rain. As I was going up I saw another pilgrim coming up behind me wearing a big blue plastic garbage bag pulled down over his body and back pack pinning his arms to his sides and his head stuck out through a hold in one of the corners. He had half fashioned a hood out of the other corner and the blue peak was just above his face. I felt intrigued to speak to this curious pilgrim and met a livey man from New Zealand with a wonderful sarcastic sense of humour. When we reached the town at the top of hill I left him to go to mass and nearly froze in the stone cold church in my dripping wet clothes. I met back up with the blue bag man and another guy from Madrid and we continued to walk in the pouring rain. It was the only way to stay warm in the wet clothes. So much for the breathtaking views described in my guide book all we could see was cloud and rain. As we walked the man from New Zealand asked me if I was happy. I thought about it for a while because my immediate answer to the question how are you feeling would have been wet. As crazy as it sounds I was happy walking behind this crazy man in a blue plastic bag followed by another with a flapping read rain poncho from Paris along the highway in the Galician mountains. I distinctly remember picnicking on the floor the albergue in Leon and the Japanese man announcing that this was ´Feliz´. It is small moments like that when you can feel happiness.´The rain didn´t really matter anymore because I couldn´t get any wetter and I could even walk straight through puddles because my boots squished with water inside. The slate stone at the top of the mountain had a beautiful turquoise hew and I could have gone swimming with my clothes on.

We continued to walk until we found an albergue with heating because we needed to dry our things. That albergue was found in Fonfria, ironically a town called cold spring. We were told to leave our wet things in the garage to dry and they had an unusual machine that I would describe as canon shaped that blew hot air on to our wet clothes. For supper we sat around a wood stove and ate Gallego soup, pork and Santiago pie. One of the hospitaleros shared some ideas on the camino and how it is like the stages of life. At the beginning when you first start you don´t really know how to walk and then when you reach the middle part, the meseta you can walk long distances. As you get nearer to the end, to Santiago you start slowing down, taking your time and living each day to the fullest.

Day 30 - walking from Villafranca to Vega Valcarce ( 16km)

It rained all night and cleared up in the morning. As I was planning a shorter distance I decided to take the more more challenging path that went along the top of the mountains. It was a steep climb up, but from the top you had a great view. After a little while the path took me through some chestnut trees and the ground was littered with spiky chestnut shells that you could open up to find tasty chestnuts inside. In some of the towns you can find people roasting and selling them in the streets, but I have also been told that you can eat them raw from the forest. The trail I was on twisted and turned and then seemed to disappear beneath leaves and chestnuts. I followed what I thought was the path until I reached some bushes and it became clear that I was no longer on the camino. I saw a road below and a bit of a path through the bushes so I continued on. My guide book said the path snaked steeply downhill which is what I was doing, but on a very steep angle. I think it was a path made by animals or lost pilgrims zigzagging through the heather and what I wanted to call Sage. As I got closer to the road I discovered there was a bit of drop off between the bushes and the road. I lowered my back pack and then jumped/dropped down just as a car drove by. I had hoped they would stop to tell me where the camino was, but at the same time I think I looked quite strange coming out of the bushes. Shortly later I found the real camino and made my way down to the town at the foot of the mountain.

The rest of the walk was much less adventurous along the highway and I go to Vega de Valcarce early in the afternoon. I spent a bit of time with two guys from Madrid in the local bar that was decorated with hunting trophies and animal heads and then we went to the grocery store. There was limited heating in the albergue so it was best to spend time in other warm places. We bought some things to make pasta which included noodles, tomatoe paste, chorizo and bacon. I tried to suggest adding some vegetables like peppers or zuchini and I got horrified looks not only from the other pilgrims, but the shop keeper as well. I thought it was quite funny that the idea repulsed them. So while in Spain I will do as the Spanish.

Day 29 - walking from Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo December 1st (24km)

As I left the albergue this morning the sky was a beautiful colour with luminous colours of blue and pink that rippled through soft fluffly clouds above the dark shadows of the mountains. Outside of Ponferrada I made my way through the urban sprawl of suburbs and towns in a hazy light. After a short stretch through the countryside I arrived in the town of Cacabelos and crossing cars crept close beside me on the medieval streets. I couldn´t really tell if I was still on the camino because I couldn´t see any yellow painted arrows marking the way. I have developed an amazing radar like sense to spot anything yellow on the horizon. It wasn´t until I looked down that I saw small metal scallop shells in the pavement confirming that I was on the right path. I have a similar radar like ability to spot stray dogs that seem to wander the streets of every town. I sometimes get frustrated that few dogs are on leashes and that cars give little priority to pedestrians. When I start to feel annoyed I remind myself that I am the visitor in the country and I shouldn´t be too critical.

Just after Cacabelos I found myself on an old camino patch that twisted and turned through the countryside full of vineyards. Right now the fields are full of rows and rows of dark twisted bodies that seem to be frozen in a macabre dance. Some of the vine plants have not yet been trimmed and they have small branches that stick out in all directions and it looks like these gnarled people are waving their unkempt hair. When I left the highway to take this path the sign marker had said that it was only 6 km onto Villafranca and after walking for about two hours I started to feel concerned because I hadn´t yet arrived. Checking my guide book I saw that I was taking a detour that went in a large circle zigzagging throught the countryside before getting to Villafranca. Really I just wanted to get to the town and be done walking for the day and then I asked myself if I was really interested in getting to the next town or experiencing the walk. It´s very tempting to look at the number of kilometres and listen to others and plan to go farther and farther each day. I had to appreciate the walk rather than the distances and that I was learning more by walking through the countryside than following the highway in a more or less straight line to get from one town to the next.

I think one of the reasons I wanted to walk the camino was because I wanted to change some things in my life and the funny thing is that I feel like I am learning more about how to live life. I have a strange sense of security while I am walking this path this is where I am supposed to be right now and it is very comforting feeling.

Day 28 - Staying in Ponferrada

Because I spent most of yesterday sleeping I thought it would be best if I take it easy today. I wanted to help a bit this morning because of the care I was given yesterday, so I offered to sweep and mop the rooms, common area and washrooms. I know I am not very good at relaxing. Just after noon I went out to visit the Castillo de los Templarios. It is a very large fort like castle in the middle of the city, mostly under rehabilitation, but still open for visits.

On my second or third night of the camino I was speaking with some Spanish pilgrims who explained part of the history of the camino to me and that in medieval times the trails were watched over by Cabelleros Templarios. This order of knights were part of the church and their role was to in part protect pilgrims from bandits and also to observe they stayed on the trails and carried out their pilgrimmage appropriately. It seems Ponferrada was an important area for the Templars with the large castle. I walked through at about the same time as a family and the little girls were looking for princesses, but sadly did not find any.

Day 27 - walking from Molinaseca to Ponferrada (7km or so)

I seem to have caught a bit of the flu because I was sick last night, but decided to continue to walk in the morning. I decided to listen to my body when I was just outside of the town of Columbrianos and a muscle near my left ankle started to feel sore. I have seen and heard about walker´s tendinitis that starts in the front of the foot almost like a tight shoe and then a strong pain. I continued to the next town and then caught the bus back to Ponferrrada.

The hospitalero here told me sometimes during the camino you have to learn to stop. It is not always the easiest decision to make, but it is part of the learning. While walking the camino it is best to walk at your own pace and you have more time to reflect and apreciate things if you are on your own. I have also been told the best times to walk the camino are either September-October or April-May.

What has been interesting about this experience is the treatment I have been suggested. When I arrived I was told to drink some hot tea with lemon and I was prepared an Sueroral which is a powder mixed with a litre of water to drink over the course of 24 hours. I was explained it was an oral version of what is in I.V. tubes. I knew more than anything else what I needed was sleep. After a little while I was brought some rice cooked with carrots to eat as well as some apple. It is interesting that when you are lying in bed about to fall asleep you can also walk with your mind or rather go over things in my head. I slept for about 16 hours and am feeling much better.

Day 26 - Tuesday November 28, 2006 - walking from Rabanal del Camino to Molinaseca ( 25.5km)

I feel like I walked through four seasons today, but not in any logical order. The day started first with a cold rain as I climbed up the mountain, the same came out at the top and just when I was almost completely dry it started to rain again with a little bit of hail mixed in. To end the day after we emerged from a small forest it felt like spring because the sun came out again. The two catalan pilgrims I was walking with and I stopped under a four enormous trees for a short break and to enjoy the sun. Just as we closed our eyes a cloud came and passed in front of the sun and it was time to walk some more.

It was a bit of challenging walk because in the morning I didn´t feel like walking. After a little while another pilgrim caught up to me and he sang me a Spanish song about Canada. It is called ´La casita de Canada´ and it sounds a bit like a camp song about a having a house in Canada, with nice flowers that the girls like or at least that is what I understood. It is a bit of a call and answer song and the word Canada often gets repeated. When we reached the top of the hill we arrived at the Cruz de Ferro which is a cross surrounded by an enormous pile of stones built up by stones that pilgrims have left. My guide book says the tradition started as a way of asking for safe passage through the mountains, but I think other interpretations can be made. I was told about carrying a stone on my second day, but I was so tired I did not want to pick up a stone at that point. Then after staying at Eunate I was given the gift of a small stone with a yellow arrow painted on it and it wasn´t so difficult to carry. About a day later I picked up another small stone for the pile it had fallen to the bottom of my backpack, but after a little bit of searching I retrieved it and added it to the pile.

Most of the day was spent going downhill on little rocks and finally we arrived in Molinaseca. The albergue was quite interesting in one way because it was designed out of an old church and in another way because of the lively hospitalero Alfredo. He walks the camino every year and runs the albergue with other volunteers. He had posted on the wall a number of newspaper articles about a postcard that was sent to him in 2000 announcing the future, now current pope. With the two catalans we ate rice soup and pan con tomates which is bread with tomatoe squeezed on to it. In North America we eat bread and butter and in Catalan it is bread with tomatoes. It is interesting learning about the differences.

Day 25 - walking from Astorga to Rabanal del Camino ( 22km)

I walked quietly out of Astorga this morning as children were on their way to school. The day was quite overcast and the mountains I had seen a day earlier had completely disapeared. There were a few more hills today and slowly the clouds opened up just above my head and I had a ray of sunshine which followed me for the entire day. At times I thought I could have been in Ireland with the dark clouds and the lush green colours and it was a very nice walk.

I arrived early in Rabanal and debated going further, but it was a steep climb with few albergues so I thought it wisest to stay. The store in the town has been closed since October, so I had no option to but to eat in the restaurant and I took the occasion to try the Cocido Maragato which is typical of the region. I am not quite clear on who the Maragato are,+ but it is a culture unique to this area of Spain. Surprisingly Spain is incredibly multicultural and it seems every region or province has a certain interest in independance. Right now in the province in Leon I often see grafitti that reads ´Leon solo´, but the movement is no where near the basque interest. So for the dish that was more like a meal it started with an enormous plate of meat, mostly pig and then I didn´t ask too many questions about what parts. Next came an enormous plate of chickpeas and cabbage that was almost like sauerkraut, but with a different sauce. Third there was a big bowl of what looked like chicken noodle soup, but tasted like the meat I had eaten earlier. I thought it was over and then they brought me a plate with a bowl of blended rice pudding with a small piece of cake. While I ate other pilgrims trickled in. There were three from the Catalan region of Spain, a couple from France and my Japanese friend. I am done eating for the day and ready for bed.

Day 24 - Sunday Nov. 26, 2006 - walking from Hospital de Orbigo to Astorga (17km)

I walked out by myself again this morning because I was hoping to find a Sunday mass to attend in one of the next towns. In the first town I was told the mass was at 1:00pm so I kept walking and then the next told me 11am and I hesitated, but continued on. I was about five minutes outside of the town when the church bell started ringing quite loudly. I stopped and looked at my watch and it was 10:20pm. As I was stopped I listened closely because I heard the faint noise of what sounded like people singing. It was almost like the sound the Grinch hears when he returns to Whoville on Christmas morning and I was intrigued. I quietly walked towards the noise. I first walked back through a farm and I thought it must be the farmer´s radio, but it wasn´t and then I wondered were the cows singing in human voices. I continued to walk and remembered when I had first walked through there were women in the middle of the streets sweeping with large brooms, a man on his bicycle and a few others. I started imagining a scene out of ´Fiddler on the Roof´when I looked up to see loud speakers next to the bells loudly playing music into the streets. The mass was very serious, the priest spoke in a commanding tone and it seemed as though the women sat at the front of the church and the men in the back. The pews were quite full considering the size of the town and then the service ended as abruptly as it has started.

I continued my walk to the city/town of Astorga, I am really not clear on how the division between the two is made. I sat down on a bench in front of a castle designed by the fantastical architect Gaudi to read over my guide book. A curious man arrived riding a bicycle, wearing a top hat and bow tie. With his funny square glasses he could have been a character out of Dr. Seuss. He started to list the many wonderful things to see in Astorga and insisted out being my guide, but I told him I was fine on my own. I went on to the Albergue to put down my things. A little while later while I was on the phone with my parents he reappeared and insisted that I come with him because the Cathedral would soon be closing. He patiently waited on a bench while I continued my conversation. I told him I was fine on my own a second time and he left. I went inside for a little while and then went out to the street. I heard footsteps walking quickly behind me and I gave in and was given a wonderful tour of the cathedral. He took me to see a few more sights including a roman ampitheatre and a church and then I told him I was tired, so he dropped me back off at the hostel and left.

Day 23 - Saturday Nov. 25th - walking from Leon to Hospital de Orbigo (34km)

This morning I put on sunscreen and a t-shirt (to wear under my fleece and coat) in hopes that the rain would decide to stop. It worked for the morning and then in the afternoon we were treated to a few sun showers and then at the end of the day a rainbow. I slept well last night and I think mostly due to the blessing we were given by the Benedictine sisters that live in the monastery attached to the second albergue in Leon. We were invited to join their evening prayers.

Today there were two trails that we could take. It seemed best to stay close to the highway because the trail was less muddy. We did however run into a few water hazards, i.e. very big puddles. For the first we crossed it by engineering a miny bridge out of nearby rocks, for the second it involved a bit of pole vaulting with the walking stick and the third we went onto the paved highway because it was a little cold for swimming.

I continued to walk with my Japanese companion and I also met up with an Australian girl about my age. She had been walking since Le-Puy-en-Velay in France and shared some of her tricks. I think I will soon be trying the home made hot water bottle that you make using an old water bottle part filled with tap water and part filled with boiling water. One of the Americans I met earlier enjoyed singing a variant of the Rolling Stones song which he called ´I can´t get no calefaccion´ because some of the hostels do not have heating and are a little chilly.

Day 22 - Dia de Descanso ( 0 km)

I stayed in Leon to rest for a day. The albergue that we slept at last night is also a youth hostel and we were so lucky to have a large bus group of teenaged boys staying there that night too. In the morning I felt like I had slept at a circus with a hundred elephants running around in circles with the noise the guys made opening and closing doors, running and yelling in the halls. In the morning I took pleasure in the fact that mysteriously only the girls washroom had hot water for the showers. Interestingly enough this is not the first time I have encountered this situation in an albergue.

As I was getting ready to leave I went to the reception desk to complain about the noise and found the French couple I had been travelled with on several occasions quite upset and rightly so. For the first time on the trip the albergue had requested to keep the ´credencials´or pilgrim passports at the desk overnight. The couple had been about to leave and their credencials were missing. Having started their trip in Le Puy en Velay in France som 1300kms earlier it was to them as if their entire trip had disappeared and they were so frustrated they were ready to go home. I ended up being translator/mediator in the situation where there seemed to be two different stories. The solution or next best thing was to have a letter written explaining that their credencials noting the completion of the previous kilometres had been seen, but then were lost. It is not the first robbery or whatever you want to call it I have heard of. One guy had his papers and money stolen while taking a shower, another girl had had a purse go missing and then in Leon I was forewarned to not take out money or walk alone because there are a group of guys that have been specifically targetting pilgrims. Basically like any big city or in public places because albergues often have a doors open policy you have to be careful.

With all the excitement of the evening and morning I wanted to take it easy for the rest of the day.

Day 21 - Thursday November 23 - walking from Mansilla de las Mullas to Leon ( 20km)

It was a short walk into Leon today which gave us a bit of a chance to visit the city. There is another beautiful gothic cathedral here and what struck me the most was the intricacy of the stained glass windows. Next we went to Saint Isidoro church and it was a bit of a strange cultural experience. First when I got there I didn´t exactly know what I was visiting. I had been told something about an old version of the bible and from the postcards in the souvenir shop the roman paintings also seemed significant. The man selling tickets in the shop explained that today it was free entrance and that we could enter in about 4-5 minutes. We were ushered into a room with traces of roman frescoes on the ceiling. I recognized the scene of the last supper, but not much else after that. Next it seemed we could walk around a courtyard so we did and it seemed that was all there was to see so we went to leave and were told that we could now go upstairs. We were let into a room with what I was told were treasures of the church. There was a series of objects and statues under glass cases with small white labels. After walking around a bit we went to the door to leave and the woman told us we had to wait for the other people coming up the stairs. It seemed we always had to be accompanied, but it also made for a lot of standing around for tired pilgrims who had already walked 20km that day. At that point things became a little surreal because a large group of about 30 well-dressed people came into the room. Everyone seemed to know each other and stood around chatting. The japanese man said ´fiesta´ and it was almost as if we had suddenly become a part of a wedding party. The other catch was that we still couldn´t leave the room. Then after a moment in walked a woman who announced the guided tour was now going to start. I like tours... unfortunately I always have a tendency to evaluate them. The guide leaned on the glass cases, chewed gum and had very little control of the group. The next stop on the tour was the biblioteca which was the most interesting part of the tour. From what I understood was that there was a bible from the 10th century, a 12th century copy of it and some very large choir books. The choir books could have reached my waist and they were made giant size so the whole choir could read from them. I also understood them to be quite heavy, up to 40 kgs but sometimes details are lost in translation.
Shortly after that we were allowed to leave and it seems we got mixed up in some sort of organized bus tour.

That night we went out for ´tapas´ or ´pinchos´ which in Spain are small plates of food that you are served with drinks when you go out to a bar. Our selection was limited to fried potatoes with a cheese and garlic sauce and then samplings of different meats on bread. Spaniards seem to be big meat eaters and people often think I am vegetarian because I try to eat fruit or vegetables with every meal.

Day 20 - Wednesday Nov. 22 - walking from Sahagun - Mansilla de las Mullas (38km)

I don´t know if we were drunk from the wind or if it was after effects of the wine we had been served in the butcher shop the night before, but late afternoon we had a very silly picnic in the middle of some farmer´s fields. I continued to walk with my Spanish and Japanese companions and for most of the morning we walked against the wind. Today the force had changed from feeling like you were flying to feeling like you were about to be blown over. It was about 3:00pm when we stopped to eat. Each of us had a barra or baguette of bread because of the difficulty of finding bread the day earlier each of us on our went out and bought some. Other items on the menu included canned mussels, chorizo (Spanish sausage), jamon cerrano ( a kind of cured ham) and a handful of jujubes, kikos ( dried roasted corn) and apples. We ate well and it was a little silly because we sat on top of the picnic table a la japones to stretch and rest while we ate. The next town was an hour or so away, but it was time for a break. The night earlier while out shopping for supper we went to a butcher shop where we were served by a very friendly woman. She not only brought out a bottle of wine to pour us each a glasss, but took us on a tour to visit the back of the shop. She walked around pulling out the ready meaty bodies of a lamp, cow and pig. Seeing the pile of sausage filling in a bin on the floor alongside the heads of various animals was almost enough to make you want to be a vegetarian, but after all the walking it did not affect our appetites. After walking for a long time little things become silly like my fear of dogs, which I prefer to call and uneasiness now that I am ´grown-up´. Earlier we had found a stray boot in the ditch and the Japanese man said ´Americano´ and I said ´perros´. I feel reasonably safe with my walking stick, but I did hear of a woman who got bit by a stray dog in one of the towns.

I wanted to stop in the next town, but the albergue was locked and there were very few people to be found so on we went to Mansilla. The atmosphere was serene as the sky was lit by the setting sun and the wind had died down. With the fatigue I felt peaceful and calm. I had a thought that death is maybe something like that feeling of arriving at the end of the day, the sun slowly disappearing as my feet slowly continued to walk the last kilometres. It was more of an awesome moment with colours of the sky and I guess I was feeling pretty tired.

Day 19 - walking from Cazadilla de la Cuenca to Sahagun ( 22.5km)

Today was a much shorter walk to make up for yesterday´s long trek. There was a light rain in the morning and for a while the sun played games with us by peeking out from between passing clouds. The wind was back in full force and for a while I felt like I might fly away.

I stuck with my group again today and it was interesting observing the dynamics of the group versus walking by myself. I tried to get ready much quicker in the morning because I don´t really like it when people have to wait for me, however with a group sometimes people wait for you and you wait for them. It is sort of about balancing this. The Spanish man seemed to make the decision maker and was often walking in front. I like decisions to be fair and I am also used to leading, so it was another thing for me to observe.

I spent a lot of time this morning practising saying the name of the town we were headed for. Try it if you like. The ´h´ is silent and the ´g´ is prounonced a bit like and ´h´. I find it is good practise to say the names of towns as I walk through them. I am not sure that I actually got the correct pronounciation in the end, but I ´ll keep trying.

Day 18 - Monday November 20th - walking from Fromista to Cazadilla de la Cueza ( 36km)

I got an early start to the day I walked out of Fromista feeling like I was in Saskatchewan until the sky cleared and I saw snow capped mountains on the horizon to my right.

I made a short stop in Carrion de los Condes to visit a church and the grocery store. As I started out on the long 17km stretch a Spanish man and Japanses man caught up with me. They had a slightly faster pace than me, but I thought it was best not to get stuck on the long stretch by myself. The sun was out and there was a light wind. We walked for quite a while on a long, flat path. At one point I was excited because there was a sign that rea Cañada which means animal crossing in Spanish. I lost track of time as we walked, but the sun was getting lower in the sky. The Spanish man said that over the next hill the town would appear and said a few magic ´Cha cha cha´ which in English would be ´Da da da ´ and lucky for us we saw a tower on the horizon. There were some funny moments when we asked the Japanese man if he was alright and he answered yes and then said his body was saying no.

Today I mailed a small parcel of things that I have been carrying to my friends in Bilbao to make my bag lighter, but mostly to carry more food weight. Other pilgrims have the option of sending themselves parcels to the post office in Santiago and I know of quite a few people have been done so. One thing I decided to ship was my pocket Spanish- English dictionary. I haven´t really been using it and it is fun to play charades or descriptive games to figure out words. I recently learned what the hunters that I see and hear every weekend have been tracking. It seems to be rabbits and ´perdices´ ( I understood to be wild chicken, but someone with a dictionary can confirm)

Day 17 - Sunday November 19th - walking from Itero de la Vega to Fromista ( 14km)

Another grey, windy and rainy day which made for a slow walk to the next town. It seems easier to walk when the sun is out. A pleasant surprise was crossing paths with an older man named Alejandro who wore a name tag that said ´Amigo de los pelerinos´. When he approached me he took a weathered notebook out of his pocket. As he opened it the wind the flipped the pages on which hundreds of names from pilgrims around the world were written and he asked me to sign. He then proudly showed me the canadian flag pin he had in his hat.

I arrived just in time for the Sunday mass in the next town in which there was a handful of people in attendance. I feel right now like I am in a poorer region of Spain as I walk past abandoned houses in a number of towns. I even walked pas an abandoned town and as I got closer a ray of sunshine came out and lit the area. I have been surprised to hear in conversations from people from France and Spain that agriculters are considered reasonably well off.

When I arrived at the albergue in Fromista I was there with six men. It seems most pilgrims that I meet are middle age and for them the camino is time to deal with fatigue from caring for aging parents, relationships and also adventure. There is little mention of the Christian origins in most of the albergues and few people make mention of religion.

Day 16 - walking from Hontañas to Itero de la Vega (21km)

Today was a quiet day. I had to eat breakfast from the vending machine in the albergue that morning because I had finished my reserve and the next store was in a town 10km a way. Usually a Spanish breakfast from what I have encountered consists of coffee or tea with biscuits or small melba toasts. I miss Canadian breakfasts where you actually get to eat something in the morning. Most of the time I eat when I want which is usually grazing on fruit, nuts and snacks I buy along the way. For lunch I will make a cheese or ham sandwhich. It is a fine balance between carrying too much food and not being able to find food in the next town. I try to mix it up as much as possible, but sometimes the albergues don´t have kitchens which means you are stuck with whatever cold options are in the grocery store. Supermercados or Food stores in Spain are still like museums to me. In small towns they are often one room with packed shelves. If there is not a store there is usually a van that drives around about midday honking it´s horn and there is a store in the back. It is also a question of timing and what will be open and it is not always logical for north american thinkers.

In the next town I met up with a French man I had met earlier on the trip who was resting an injury. In the bar there was an eighty year old man from the catalan region who was doing his thirtieth camino. It seems strange to go to a bar for breakfast but they are sort of the Spanish coffee shop.

That evening in Itero de la Vega I met two Spanish cyclists completing a camino that they had started about three years ago. They were from Palencia the province I had just crossed into and it was interesting learning about the region from locals. They were waiting for a stamp for their credencials and then were heading home. I was by myself in the albergue that night. Each day I see less and less pilgrims. The middle stretch is often skipped over. I would have slept better if I had been able to lock the door or at least close it completely. I guess I am a city girl who is used to being able to lock the door to feel safe. It was interesting to think about the fact that was something that was important to me.

Day 15 - walking from Burgos to Hontañas (29km)

Leaving Burgos the trail matched up again with the N-120 highway in the direction of Leon. There have been a number of times the path crosses over the highway or goes alongside it in the narrow shoulder. This is another of the modern day hazards.

Late morning I passed through a town called Rabe de la Calzada. While I was looking around a woman in the street asked if I had gotten a stamp yet and I said no. She brought me to house next to church and an older woman appeared with a rubber stamp and ink pad. As I got out my Credencial ( a passport of sorts for the pilgrimmage) she asked me where I was from. When I replied Canada she said Canada or Quebec. Everyone asks that question and it is starting to get to me a little. It seems there are quite a few Quebecois who do the camino and one Spanish person suggested it was because a famous actor from Quebec has been promoting it. It was interesting stamp because it read ´Ayuntamiento´which is town hall. Usually stamps are given out in albergues, churches or tourism offices.

Leaving Rabe the sky was grey and a strong wind was blowing. While I walked uphill I felt like I was walking in slow motion and then when I started downhill the opposing pulls of gravity and the wind made me have the sensation I was floating. Not long after I started my path was blocked by a herd of sheep. They stood and stared at me as I walked through them. There was also a donkey and a couple goats in the group. I think a farmer was cleaning out his barn. None followed me and my walking stick thank goodness. I had started reading a book before I left about a man who was preparing to do the pilgrimmage with a donkey and occasionally when I am in the middle of the city or a muddy field I think how awkward it would be to be leading a large animal.

I walked through a couple of other towns that were like ghost towns mostly because it was the middle of the afternoon which is lunch or siesta time. I climbed up another hill and at last I had reached the Meseta, the flat area of central Spain. Meseta is basically Spanish for Saskatchewan but with a few more hills. I was planning on stopping at San Bol, but the refuge was closed. I put my feet in the icy spring water which is said to cure all ails. The water felt really refreshing, but I looked at my watch and realized I had very little time before sunset and another 6 km. I found out I can walk 6km an hour if I need to. It kept getting darker and darker and I saw nothing on the horizon. Walking was starting to feel like work, so I started singing all the songs I could think of to distract myself and finally the town church appeared in a bit of a valley and I made it to the albergue. I can walk longer distances, but I need to start earlier in the day because I usually average about 4km an hour with my big back pack. It was feeling much lighter at that point because most of the water was gone.

Day 14 - walking from San Juan de Ortega to Burgos (30 km)

It rained for most of the day and there was a lot of mud on the trail. My walking stick was useful to keep me walking straight when I was on the top of hill. When I first started walking it was like I was in a dream going through the woods. Just a head of me I saw a white horse by the path eating something from the ground. When I got closer there was actually about eight horses and a few of them were white. One brown one looked up and stared at me while the others kept eating. When I got closer he started walking towards me and then a few others followed him. I tried not to notice and be scared because I know animals sense fear, but I have always been afraid of animals. There were four of them following me on the path and very close. I turned around and spoke to them in Spanish. I told them I didn´t have anything, but they kept staring at me so I said okay follow me. They followed for a while and then crossed to the other side of the path and started to eat again. It´s pretty funny now, but the horses were so big and so close.

I stopped for tea in Atepuerca, the town that is known for archeological excavations, it was so nice to get out of the rain and drink something warm. Shortly after I could see the city of Burgos on the horizon. As I got closer I picked the path that was supposed to be the least industrial. At first as I approached I thought there was a fire, but it was actually smoke from a factory and then there was a lot of garbage and so on. I much prefer the countryside to the city. It is amazing how much pollution comes from a city, how it is hard to think and everything is so busy. When I finally got to the centre of town I saw the immense cathedral that is absolutely stunning. I did a quick visit and then walked to the albergue. It was a surprise to meet two other Canadians tonight. I am staying with a woman from Calgary and a Japanese man from Toronto.

For supper I went to eat at the university residence accross the street. The meal was a plate of hor d´oeuvres, grilled cheese sandwich with fries and a yoghurt. It was also a bit of cultural experience.

Thanks Dad for adding photos to the blog !

Day 13 - walking from Belorado to San Juan de Ortega (24km)

Leaving Belorado there was frost on the ground and a thick fog. The type of weather with which you can´t see far outwards, so it makes you look inwards. The trail got off to an interesting start because as I followed the arrows they led me straight through the middle of a gas station and then to a large pile of turnips that were piled high in the parking lot. From there the path went upwards and I spent most of the day walking through a forest. During the fog in the morning it was comforting having the faint light of the sun to my left keeping me company. I started thinking about my breakfast conversation the day earlier in Grañon. Some others were talking about dreams so I mentioned that I had had a dream the night before in which I saw a person that I knew in high school, but that I hadn´t seen or heard from for a very long time. I was surprised to have thought of her and it made me want to talk to her to see how she is doing. The hospitalerio who also works as a psychiatrist in Mexico suggested maybe the dream was telling me that there was a part of me that I haven´t been in touch with for a long time and that I wanted to talk to. He said if you remember your dreams you should try to search for their meaning and then try to complete them. So I started asking myself questions about who I had been in high school and how I had changed.

Later on when the sun came out it was great to be walking through the pine trees, listening to the wind and having rays of sunshine fall accross my face. I have always loved being surrounded by trees. Occasionally when I am walking I have a small pain in my right foot. I sort of use it as a benchmark of when I need to stop and rest a little while. One of the pilgrims I met in Eunate was reading a book called ´La enfermedad como camino´ which would translate to something like the path of sickness. The idea he explained was that illness sometimes correlates to events in your life and the example he gave me was that he needed to get glasses at a time in his life when he was having difficulty planning into the future. I started to think about that and reflect on what the cause of the pain was from and when it had started. I know a year ago the bursitis in my hips had caused me a lot of pain and that it probably was stress related. I was scared at that time that I might not be able to walk and maybe not be able to do the camino to Santiago. Starting running was very good for me because the exercise I think helped me deal with little stresses. While I was thinking about this two French men walked past me and they suggested that perhaps my shoe laces were too tight and that after about 10km you should loosen your laces because the foot starts to swell. That helped considerably, but it was still an interesting point of reflection.

That evening I caught up with the French couple who were quite cute with their matching outfits and the three of us spent the night in San Juan de Ortega. I had been reccomended to stop there because of the Garlic soup that the hospitalerio makes every night for pilgrims. The church was beautiful, the town small (17 inhabitants) and luckily for us the bar opened that evening so we could sit somewhere warm. The bunkbeds were in a stone room that was freezing cold. You could see your breath and it was best to wear winter layers. We had the soup that consisted of garlic, white bread and red peppers. There was no where else to get food in the town so the priest had started making soup for the pilgrims. The soup did not sit very well for me, but it was nice and warm. The night was very cold I had tried to make a tent of wool blankets around my bottom bunk, but it did not really help. In the morning one of the French men said that probably 5 or 6 monks died every night there in the middle ages and I was happy to get up and start walking.

Day 12 - walking from Grañon to Belorado (20km)

Last night I stayed in a parish albergue. I highly reccommend these because you are welcomed into the house as if it were your own. In this case it was actually the bell tower of the church. Today would be a good day to mention the second commandment for pilgrims and that is that the true camino is travelling you do within yourself. When I got to the albergue I emptied my backpack and hung all my clothes and sleeping bag up on some clothes lines. I think I can liken the emptying of my bag to a conversation I had with the mexican hospitalerio Lalo when he asked me some challenging questions. Later that evening we shared a meal with two other pilgrims one from France and another from Lithuania. The meal was followed by a time of prayer during which we sang a Taize song. Lalo had spent some time with the Taize community in France and in India and I was happy to go through the Taize song book.

The walk today took me accross into the region of Castilla y Leon and into the province of Burgos. I mostly walked along a dirt road next to a highway which has been built over the original camino. Occasionally farmers drove by on their tractors and would wave and often semi-truck drivers would honk and wave. I have yet to wander around Belorado, but I will keep you posted.

Day 11 - walking from Azofra to Grañon (22km)

It was an easy walk to the town of Santo Domingo de la Calzada today along a winding gravel road. When I got to the town I first walked past some factories, one seemed to be a potatoe storehouse with the biggest pile of potatoes I have seen in my life and the next had piles of the red ceramic roof tiles commonly used on houses here in Spain. I eventually made my way to the cathedral. It is a very unique church because they keep a live rooster and hen inside. The story according to my guide is something about a young German pilgrim travelling with his parents to Santiago in the 14th century and after refusing the advances of a maid has a silver goblet put in his bag. He is later caught and hung for theft. His parents then continue on the pilgrimmage, but when they return they find their son still hanging from the gallows and is alive. They go to the magistrate who tells them that their son is as alive as the roast chickens he is about to eat. The rooster and hen then leap from his plate and start to crow. After seeing this the German boy is released.

Before continuing into Grañon I stopped in a pharmacy to get some advice on my red spots. It seems I have about a dozen bites from some sort of bed bug. I noticed a red patch above my left eyebrow Saturday morning in Viana which I dismissed as a careless application of sunscreen. However when I got to the hostel that evening the owner seemed quite concerned when he saw me because it had swollen. With some Benadryl all should be well in a few days.

Day 10 - walking from Navarette to Azofra (22km)

As I started out this morning I stopped at the church to find out when mass was. An older woman told me at 9am there was the rosary and at 9:30am there was a mass. Since I had time I figured I would go to both and try and learn the words to ´Hail Mary´ in Spanish. I think in the end I got most of them, but the priest seemed to be able to recite the entire prayer without taking a breath. I was the youngest person by far in the church until the mass started and a few other people under 50 appeared.

I mostly walked through fields of harvested grapes today. There are still tiny bunches left on the vines because they were too small to pick to make wine, but this also makes them perfect snack size. I also walked past a couple of olive plants and some olives were green and others black. I tried some of the darker ones to see what they tasted like. I only just bit it open to see the pitt and a very bitter, white liquid came out. After speaking with some Spaniards I learned it is a long complicated process before olives are edible. Other things I have tasted along the trails have been rosehips (they taste better in Canada) and one day in the forest a Spanish couple showed me some wild lettuce I could taste.

At the end of the day I caught up with a Spanish pilgrim and we walked into to Azofra to find the albergue. One man we met in the street told us we could stay at the church, at least that is what I first understood. When we got to the church there was actually a house next to the church where we could stay with a phone number to call. Luckily the Spanish guy had a cell phone because I later found out there were no payphones in the town. A friendly hospitalerio showed up, let us in and showed us around. We ate supper in the nearby bar because everything in the town ( the one shop) was closed because it was Sunday. In the bar there were a lot of men crowded around the tv watching a sport that looked like squash, but there were no racquets. I asked my companion what he liked to watch on t.v. and he answered ´Simpsons´. At first with the Spanish accent it sounded like he was speaking Chinese and I had no idea what he was saying, but he insisted it was popular so I eventually figured it out. With a bit of Rioja wine with supper I slept very soundly and was only woken up by the hospitalerio knocking on the door at 7:50am to come in and lock up.