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.

Day 9 - walking from Viana to Navarette (21.5km)

For most of the morning I walked through cold,wet mist. The previous day I had seen the big city of Logroño in the distance, but today I could barely see 100 m ahead of me. If there were still hills on the horizon they had disappeared into the fog. I saw some signs explaining there was a lake and a bird observatory, but all I saw was cloud.

When I got to Logroño it was a bit of a shock from the peaceful country side. People were racing everywhere, there were a lot of cars and very few people responded to greeting of ´Hola´in the street. I went to a shop off the camino and got a little lost trying to find my way back. I looked at my map and it seemed as though the next street ran parallel, but somehow I got completely turned around. In contrast to square Canadian streets in Europe they often use a confusing star configuration. When I finally made my way to the Santiago church and found the camino I realized that while I had been lost I had been walking backwards on the camino.

After the city I walked past a lake, and this time the sun was out, for a brief moment the countryside looked like Canada with people barbecueing and having picnics.

Day 8 - Walking from Los Arcos to Viana (19.5km)

Another bright sunny day and I might have gotten a bit of sunburn. The path twisted through farmland and I might actually now say that it was rolling hills. When I first started out there was a lot of fog and it was almost eery because you couldn´t see very far into the distance.

It was a quiet day of walking and I stopped in Viana just outside the big city of Logrono. I am sort of following an itinerary mapped out by the Amis du Chemin de Saint Jacques des Pyrenees-Atlantique (www.aucoeurduchemin.org). It averages 20-25km a day which is far enough for me. When I got to the albergue it was closed, but there was a sign on the door explaining that I had to call the municipal police. A kind lady walked me to the town hall and a police man told me he would be by in ten minutes and about an hour later he showed up. Because I was the first person there I sort of became the hospitalerio and let people in when they arrived. There were only four of us but there was room for a lot more with the bunks three tiers high. Two of the group were cyclists and they figured it would take them about 10 days to get to Santiago. It was nice to find a dryer because if you handwash clothes everynight they don´t usually dry sitting in a cold room overnight. Practically there is only so much you can pin to your back pack to have dry while you are walking. It was funny when we were sorting the clothes out at the end because one man got some of my underwear, but in the end we all had our things.

The plan is to go to Naverrete tonight. I just crossed the border from the region or communidad of Navarra and I am now in Rioja. I learned that there are 17 regions in Spain and about 52 provinces (these are smaller than regions). It is a little bit confusing if you think in Canadian terms. Hasta luego !

Santiago Tales

I have not officially advertised my Chaucer like quest for the most interesting tale, but I have been told about a couple of exceptional encounters that I will share...

The first was told to me by the young Australian couple that I met several days ago. Due to a repetitive strain injury they had to stop for about a week in Pamplona. While they were looking for a place to stay they met a British musician who was also preparing to do the camino and he arranged to have them stay at the hotel with him. A day later he started the camino and they stayed with his stuff and acted as his assistants making arrangements with his agent. One of the reasons for the saxophonist´s pilgrimmage is a documentary project he is working on with the BBC tracing the path of the story of ´The Alchemist´ by Paulo Coehlo. The story starts in Spain and he would like to arrange concerts in a number of the cities that the main character passes through. While speaking with Coehlo he was encouraged to do a pilgrimmage to Santiago and now he has started. The Australians were convinced that their meeting has to do with the idea in the Alchemist that everything happens for a reason.

The next encounter was told to me by a small group of pilgrims that included a man from France, some Spaniards, a woman from Quebec and another man from Hungary. They were resting outside Villamayor by the Fuente de Moros. A bright yellow truck drove up with a New Brunswick license plate. Out stepped an Acadian man with man from India who were on their way to Dakar, Senegal. They offered everyone a glass of wine and the Indian performed a number of magic tricks with cards and coins. Then after their visit they drove off. The Hungarian told me the meeting reminded him of a scene from the book ´Master and Margarita´by Balgakov which is a story about the Devil going to Russia.

These are the best stories from week one.

Day 7 - walking from Estella to Los Arcos (21km)

My legs were less stiff and sore today which made the walking easier. The scenery is slowly changing each day. The dirt is a redish colour like I am told it is in Prince Edward Island and the mountains are slowly levelling out. As my body slowly adjusts to the walking it feels like I am just now starting the pilgrimmage.

Just outside of Estella is the town of Irache where they have a special fountain from which you can get both wine and water. The wine side doesn´t flow quite as quickly. If I had planned in advanced you might have been able to have see me on the web cam www.irache.com . It was around 9:30am when I passed, so maybe a little early for Canada.

That morning I was given a card in a shop where I bought some fruit that listed ten commandments for pilgrims. The first was the camino to Santiago is not a marathon. I had a long passage of 12 km between towns on small dirt path with fields on either side and then tree covered shields to reflect.

Some travellers try to be the first to arrive at the next town or albergue, and there is definitely pressure during the summer when the beds are distributed first come first serve. However now when there are fewer pilgrims and less albergues open the challenge is to try to go longer distances. I know some people that have done 40 or more km a day and heard rumours of a woman who grew up in the mountains that did 70km. I am fine with 20 or so. In a lot of ways the camino can be compared to life or a life time and it is a good reminder that life is not a marathon.

Day 6 - Walking from Eunate to Estella (27 km)

Today I walked over a number of Spanish hills ( Saskatchewan mountains) past vineyards where some farmers were picking grapes, gardens of bright red peppers and along an old roman road. I learned a new Spanish word ´desvio´ which means detours. I had to back track twice to try and figure out where the paths were because the new trails were not so clearly indicated. I also walked through two construction sites. The signs say do not enter yet the construction workers waived me through.

I am starting to look more like a pilgraim because I bought a walking stick this morning. It is made of ´castena´ wood ( I will have to look up the translation later). I have also taken to sporting my purple tower over my shoulders, so my backpack straps rub less and as adivised I am wearing two socks to prevent blisters.

I met another Canadian woman today from Quebec and the end of the day I walked in Estella with a couple of Australians. There are many pilgrims on the camino, some for a week vacation, others for thirty some days and then the more dedicated pilgrims who arrive from further away. I have heard of someone on the trail right now who left Oslo last April or May. Apparently this year there will be more foreigners for one of the first times.

Day 5 - Walking from Puente la Reina to Eunate (-5.5km)

Yesterday I went backwards on the camino. I was starting to feel like I was in a race to get to Santiago and not really getting a chance to take things in. I decided to go back a couple villages and take a detour to visit a little church at Eunate. Santa Maria a Eunate is a church that was built in 1170 with a simple, yet beautiful design. It is in the middle of several farmer´s fields and inside the octogonal church there is a statue of Mary and small altar on which hung a cloth that read ´Venia a mi´. Next to this church there is a house that is shared by a Swiss woman named Mariann and a French man named Jean who take turns living there for about 15 days at a time. They volunteer as ´hospilaterios´ and welcome pilgrims to spend the night. I spent the day there and was joined by two guys from Spain and Italy. We were prepared an enormous supper and learned of the tales of Federico who is walking from Santiago to Lourdes. He was very animated when he spoke and reccommended good places to stay and eat. The evening concluded with a candle light prayer in the Church.

I will try to include photos and write more when I am not using a machine that I put 1 Euro coins into for 16 minutes of Internet access.

Day four - walking from Pamplona to Puente la Reina ( 25km)

For anyone interested in walking or rather hiking the camino I highly reccommend spending time training in advance. Choose trails with lots of hills, carry a backpack with a decent weight and wear the shoes you plan to use for the Camino. Things I should have done. Today I got my fourth blister and my muscles are still sore and stiff. It was quite entertaining this evening when a group of us literally hobbled into town to buy food at the grocery store for supper. With blistered feet, sore knees and sore shoulders we were not moving very quickly.

I finally found a town with a pharmacy and one that was open. Saturday I couldn´t get to one because of the short hours (10:30am to 1:30pm) and then Sunday most shops were closed. I was trying to find a cream called ´Nok´which is supposed to prevent blisters and I think can only be found in France. I finally got to by earplugs and some special patches called Compeed that seem to be the cure for blisters. I think when I arrive in Santiago that I should not only get a Compostela, but a certificate in foot care as well.

Today was nice and sunny and the trail lead us to the top of a hill called ´Alto de Perdon´ from which we had a great view, but then as the saying goes what goes up must come down the descent on small rocks was quite challenging. One of the Spaniards in the group I was walking with today described the path as leche or milk and I thought he was referring to the white rocks. However there seems to be an expression in Spanish to describe things that aren´t very nice as milk. I don´t know if you could try to used it in English ?

The Spanish and the French describe the camino in etapas, which the British girl translated as legs of the trip. In that case it means today I am on my fourth leg.

Day three - walking from Larrasona to Pamplona (15 km)

There is not much open in Spain on Sundays and it seemed to be only churches, bars and candy stores. When I got to Pamplona there were lots of people in the streets, but luckily no bulls because I wasn´t walking very fast at that point any more. The city of Pamplona is known for a unique festival called San Fermin that takes place during the month of July and includes bull running in the streets.

I also walked to Trinidad de Arres just before 11am in time for the Sunday mass. It was easiest to understand the readings and the homily, but the parts of the mass that are recited were really hard to follow because everyone spoke at the same time. I was amazed that everyone sang and that there were no hymn books to follow along. Like the pilgrim´s mass I attended in Roncevalles it only lasted about 30 minutes.

The albergue in Pamplona was closed, so myself and a couple others stayed at a Pension. The place was a little strange from the start because we were given a roll of toilet paper for our room and were advised not to leave it in the washroom, then the shower had no curtain so the whole room got very wet and to flush the toilet you had to pull a string attached to the tank near the ceiling. The beds were decent and that was all I was really interested in.

Day Two walking from Roncevalles to Larrasoana (25km)

There were twenty of us on bunk beds in a dorm room last night. We had one shower and toilet to share. Lights went out around 10pm and bags started rustling about 6am. When I started out there was a slight mist, but it wasn`t very cold. Most of the trails were on small dirt paths passing through forests, farms and small towns. We were still in the hills of the Pyrenees, but it was mostly downhill.

To find the camino there are many signs. Often it is a shell (Coquille St. Jacques in french), a spray painted yellow arrow, two white and red lines which correspond to the French GR 65 (Grande randonee), a little figure with a backpack and walking stick and on one occasion I saw a woman stick her head out the window and point me in the direction to go.

It was another long day of walking which lasted just over eight hours. My feet, legs and shoulders are sore. Larrasoana is also a very small town ( I am not sure if I mentioned that there were no houses in Roncevalles). Here there are houses, but no stores or restaurants. The albergue sold spaghetti so that was supper.

Two curious things happened today. The first was while walking in the woods I heard a strange sound and so I stopped. Someone called out: `Tranquilo, tranquilo`which means quiet, it´s okay and then I saw the two hunters standing just behind a tree in front of me loading their rifles. The second thing that I saw that was a little out of the ordinary was an abandoned house in the middle of the path that was lived in by cows. I was lucky because I guy who walked by after me saw some of the bulls who walked out of the house onto the path.

More adventures to come, but now it is time for bed.

Day One walking from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncevalles (27km)

I got up this morning and was served breakfast by a delightful french woman Janine who is known as the ´mere de pelerins.´ Because I was the first one up I was treated to a basque chocolate to go along with my bowl of hot chocolate and slices of baguette.

At 7:30am I started down the street wearing my tuque and mitts because the morning mist was quite chilly, however shortly after I started walking up the first mountain I was down to a t-shirt. Earlier I had estimated it would take about one hour to walk five kilometres, but when you are climbing a mountain with a big backpack it actually takes about two hours. I followed the upper Napoleon route that went to 1410m altitude and it took about eight hours to get to Roncevalles. The scenery included sheep, cows, ponies, more mountains and hunters ( I really am not clear what they were hunting but there were a lot of them).

I walked alone for most of the day but I could usually see a couple pilgrims just ahead of me and a couple behind. Of the group that arrived at the Refugio tonight there are two British women and then one Austrian man, one French man, one German man, one Spanish man and one American man.

One small adventure to end my day was that about 3km from Roncevalles I switched from hiking boots to running shoes and had tied the boots to my bag. Once I arrived I noticed one was missing so I had another hour walk searching and eventually finding the runaway boot.

I also learned that I forgot to pack ear plugs I hope there are no more snorers tonight.

Welcome to my travels !

A few months ago I officially made the decision to embark on this trip. I am on my way to Santiago de Compostella, a city in northwestern Spain, where the remains of Saint James rest in a cathedral. The path I am taking has been travelled on since the medieval times. I have just arrived in the town of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port from where I will start my walk. In some ways the journey started a while ago when I made the decision to start the trip in Ottawa or even earlier when the idea was planted while I was in Vimy in France. I have 800km ahead of me to walk with my backpack before I get to Santiago...