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CAMINO DE SANTIAGO

Camino de Santiago 2008

April 11th, 2008 - On My Way







I purchased my plane tickets today!
After thinking about my last Camino just about every day since October of 2003


I'll be leaving on April 11th for Madrid where I"ll meet up with my friend Pat in the Madrid airport & we'll fly to San Sebastian, and take the train to St. Jean Pied du port to begin my second Camino walk. The last 12 days, Cynthia will meet us to finish up the walk.

For me, the Camino is the interlude from our decision to live permanently in Mexico - the jumping off point from leaving California where I have lived my entire 57 years, to my landing in Mexico in the end of May. Between packing my house and shipping everything off, and organizing this walk, I am ready for a good long walk.

I joined a club today and met with a trainer who gave me basic weight work to do plus the treadmill and whatever outside walking I do between now and then, but I know from the last time I walked, that nothing trains you like the road!

On our way!
All plans are set - off to the airport in the morning, arriving in San Sebastian Spain & off to Bayonne for a nights rest before going to St. Jean Pied du Port on Sunday.

Here's Pat! all ready to go looking cool and calm
and me - I am still packing the house for the move to Mexico,
pictures to come later!

4/13/08 Arrivial in St Jean Pied du Port












We arrived in st jean by scenic train
went right to the pilgrim office.

Everyone dropped their jaws
when they saw our backpacks
and immediately made us weigh them...
a whopping 15 kilos!
Thats over 3o lbs...













We were thinking they felt heavier than at home
and knew we were planning to send first aid supplies
ahead but were dumbfounded to see
that we had allowed ourselves to get on the plane
with that much weight - me especially, i know better

So, we went back to the albergue
put 6 kilos each into a box
and shipped forward to ourselves,
lista de correos, Pamplona

Now we can begin!









St jean is a beautiful walled town
built at the bottom of a citadel -
With great bakeries, simple food










And a Hospitalera, Janine,
Who is like a drill sargeant
With a sense of humor.
Don't touch the cheese
Before the salad course!

We are in France,
so of course
they all speak french - even the children!
A challenge for me but for Pat hers is coming back.

Leaving St. Jean Pied du Port:

4/14/2008 - First 10 Miles

Rain, sun, hail, no blisters, green and gorgeous!

We arrived in Valcarlos,
half way up the mountain
In good shape.
On the steps of the church,
Was a young man, scruffy beard,
Huddled in his sleeping bag
Cold.

He was excited to see other pilgrims,
And was upset at himself
For getting lost twice today.
His name was Max, from Quebec,
Looking very homeless,
By just about any standard.

Margaret, a young woman from Alberta
who was walking with us,
was wary
We opted for the Hostal,
rather than the unheated albergue
in the basement of the Ayuntamiento










The town seems abandoned,
No one out during the day.
We settle into the Hostal,
Pat & Margaret take hot showers
I take a good long bath
Then we lay on our beds
Feet in the air
Discussing the next day,
reading the guidebook,
forgetting what we read immediately
then go outside.

The church is closed,
An old man in a beret
Is standing on a corner
Looking at the wine shop.
Pat strikes up a conversation
Which he doesn't understand
In Spanish, or French,
Then he asks her if she speaks English.
We are all completely surprised
When he tells us he has lived
All over California, working as a shepherd.
He is 82, and completely charmed by Pat.
That night, we are the only pilgrims
At the pilgrim's meal
Allubias, salmon, salad, wine and dessert.

4/16/2008 Pilgrim Blessing, Roncesvalles

Today we walked from Valcarlos.
A very sleepy town
Where we saw about 5 people in th 12 hours
The walk of 15km took us almost 6 hours,
a steady climb of about 1000 meters.

We were so happy to end in good shape
Without aches and pains or blisters.

We seem to walk about the same speed.

Upon arrival in Roncesvalles
we had a well earned beer,
signed up for the 7 pm dinner,
Went to the pilgrim office
For the stamp on our credential.

Afterwards to the showers
where I discovered,
that in our great offload to Pamplona,
I had sent off my shampoo and soap.
Nevertheless, the hot water
was hot and delicious.

Today was sunny spring weather, after morning fog

We passed through mountain villages
With French style houses,
Terraced gardens
And full running streams.

The pilgrim dinner was at 7pm
We were seated with Felix
from San Sebastian Spain
Who is walking for one week
And Margaret from Alberta Canada
With whom we walked with these first two days.

Both Pat and I have been really enjoying
Being able to speak Spanish well -
So we had a great conversation with Felix
about everything from road signs in Euskara
to wine, to fishing.

Afterwards we went to the pilgrim's mass
which was quite moving, with four priests singing,
reading and blessing the pilgrims who were present.
At the end, there was communion and I convinced Pat
(not really Catholic since a very young girl)
to go up with me. We were the last two in line.









In my Catholic upbringing,
we always held out our tongue,
but people were holding out their hands,
so - awkwardly I held out one hand
and put the host in my mouth
and walked to my seat.

Pat was next, took her host,
took about 5 steps
when the priest followed her going
psssssst. Pssssst!

Then he asked her if she was catholic.
When she told him she was not,
he took the host away from her
in front of the whole church full of people.
Back at the seat,
she told me he took it away because she had not
put it in her mouth
(a sure sign you are not a catholic!!)

Well, I got the giggles every time I looked at her
and we somehow finished the mass,
got blessed in spite of it all,
but were left with a fit of laughing that wouldn't quit.

I figure we,ve got about 38 days to get it right now.
Then again...

Tomorrow
We are to be awakened by the hospitaleros at 6:30 am
And will be off to the first village of Burguette
Where Hemmingway
Left his signature on the piano
And fished for trout.

April 16 - Zubiri

Another. Beautiful day of nothing but walking.
Landed in zubiri at 4 p.m.
Looks like a strip mall,
Hardly like the charming little villages
That we passed through today.
We are staying in a private albergue
Eight beds to a room.
We wash socks and underwear
And hang them on the line
That is outside the window, hoping
They will be dry before dark.

We go out to find a glass of wine
But can't seem to find anything open.
We are directed to the end of the street
Where the main street converges with the highway
There we find a hotel, with a local bar
People in their 60's are going in and out
We are obviously outsiders amongst locals,
who are playing cards, smoking cigarettes,
Having an afternoon social hour.

We have a drink at the bar and leave
As quickly as possible.
Wandering down the street,
We see the local herd of sheep
Wandering around some old stone ruins,

And we meet Paul, from Canada
Who is walking alone
Together, we go to the bar
That is hosting the pilgrim's meal,
Meet Carol & Ken, another couple
from Canada, who are walking
with very large packs, and she is feeling it.

Will be to Pamplona tomorrow or Friday

April 18, 2008 Good Morning! it´s raining - Zubiri

Yesterday, Thursday, we were awoken by the hospitalero
with the words ¨_ good morning! it´s raining¨
and it was -
we walked from Zubiri to Pamplona
mostly in the rain, but with enough sun and clouds
to make it a really nice walking day.










I have to say it was a bit of a slog through parts,
but we made it fine,
passing all the baby lambs and horses
and almost overflowing, rushing rivers.
The countryside is sooo green,
I can´t believe how green it is.

We got in to Pamplona










by circuitous route that kept saying
5 km over and over again
so we don´t really know exactly
how far we walked.
We landed in the albergue around 4 pm
discovered clothes dryers!
and put everything right in.
About 7 Euros later and 2 hours
all the socks were still damp
so we just quit the dryer,
went into the bathroom
and put all the socks over the hand dryer
and they were done in about 10 minutes!
nothing like dry warm socks...

That done, we went to the bar Raspa for dinner
Had veal, potatoes, a delicious salad, wine
Carol and Ken tell us all about Max from Quebec,
We are surprised at how wrong
our perception of him was,
and we are off to bed.

This morning we waited in
and wandered all over Pamplona
which I have to say is a really charming town.
We were awaiting our box from St. Jean Pied Du Port
(with our 12 lbs of things we had to get rid of)
so we could ship it forward again.
We were tourists with back packs.

I have to say, regarding Pat and churches
that she has perhaps a long way to go,
as when we got to one of the churches,
she stood right in front of it,
bells, statues and all
and asked if it was a small shopping mall!
I said, perhaps if you are shopping for god,
you might find him here.

well, I´m down to 5 minutes on this computer
and will have to send pictures in a separate post.

we´re off to Puenta la Reina tomorrow, about 21 km from here.

April 20, 2008 - Azqueta
Our walk passes through Azqueta today
Up a small hill to find an elderly man
waiting at the top for someone
to stop and say hello.
That's us, we do that
and he begins to tell us
the history of his town,
and that he has the key to the church,
would we like to see it?
....more later
April 21/2008 - Every day at the end of the day....
We think we are going to quit
Then we have a shower
Go to the pilgrim's meal
Which comes with a bottle of wine
For two
And get inspired all over again

Today from Estella, a charming
Narrow streeted midieval town
To Los arcos
Across undulating hills, through flocks
Of sheep
Who give themselves away
Miles before we see them
With their droppings
The only rain today
Was in full sun

April 23, 2008 -Days lost and found
Hard to keep track of the days
sundays merge into Mondays and Tuesdays,
Walking is good, it hurts, goes quickly
And drags for no reason
Santa claus is coming to town
Repeatedly sings itself to me

On Sunday there was biting wind,,
ponchos blown off, we passed
the devil fountain on the way to
the Alto de Perdon
were blown off the top,
stumbled down to a homey bar
for a bocadillo and stew.

Fortified,we took the extra 2.5 km loop
To the octagonal Templar chapel at Eunate,
lit an electric candle
for the deceased,
for Mike lucci
for the rest of the trip

In Obanos the young men
are playing Sopranos pinball
at the bar
while old men watch

We decide to brave the elements
To get to Puente la Reina
Where we share 4 bunks
In cramped quarters with
Richard, back from Baghdad,
Who in the morning says
"It's a beautiful day, no one's
Shooting at me and I'm not
Shooting back"
At breakfast we took more
Than our share of packaged cookies

I have developed a blister
on the end of my little toe
Which I plan to ignore
But it does not cooperate

The muddy path collects on our boots
But it is still green, without rain
So we accept the inconvenience

Los Arcos, was a disappointing town,
We rented a hostal room
to have a good hot shower,
instead, it was tepid
Sprayed over the top of the shower,
soaked my clothes

From Los Arcos we made a plan
To increase our distance:
Walk slower,
Take more rests
Take the Road to cover more distance

What happened:
Took longer
Arrived more tired
Blister had it's way, so

We took a bus ride to Logrono,










Had cafe con leche in a bar
Full of dripping Serrano hams,
Wondering where Margaret,
and the young man from Quebecois
And other fellow walkers are
while we waited for the shops to open.

I Had to stop myself from buying
The comfortable
but shocking pink sandals,
Which we had a good laugh over,

We took the bus into Najera
And walked into the Rioja landscape,
rocky, open, red soil, planted in grapes,
To Azofra, where we ran into
Quebecois, whose name we discovered,
is Max and rediscovered that one shouldn't
Always heed their first judgment
Of people

April 24 - 25, 2008 - Santo Domingo de la Calzada
Today there are rolling hills planted
For miles cebada and trigo
In the 12th century, Santo Domingo,
Lacking the intelligence needed
for a monastic life,
built roads, bridges,
and a pilgrim hostal
which stands today

He is a saint
Because of the angels
Who completed his work,
When he rested
To make it an even better story,
There is a miracle
Involving a cooked chicken
That comes to life
Which still resides in the Cathedral.

Today, the crops are green for miles
And the path that Santo Domingo built
Wanders through it
Shepherds still herd their sheep,
Dogs circling,
Clouds nowhere to be seen,
It appears that spring has arrived

Richard wandered by today
And we hear that Margaret has
decided to be a tourist, off to Burgos,
Franz Joseph and his wife Gaby
Are happy but tired, thinking
Of their children in Germany

Everyone asks about those they
Have not seen for a few days
We are a small community of
homeless vagabonds

April 25, 2008

The weather has turned to summer
We passed miles of purple heather
Blooming under oak trees that look dead
An austrian family, father and 3 sons
Having a camino for dad's 60th birthday
passed through our lives

And Wolfgang,
An Austrian comedian,
Whose mother died last year
Entered

As for us, we logged 28 km today
Not even realizing it until we were done
We ate our dinner of chorizo, bread,
wine and chocolate on the street, while
Pilgrims passed by, greeting us with a
"Buen camino" and pointing to the storks
On the church steeples.

Apri 26, 2008 -Ages to Burgos to los Hornillos no Room At The Inn

From Ages, (accent over the e in ages)
we took a farm road
Over the hill to the highway
For the bus stop to Burgos
Under the bus storage
was filled with backpacks,

The entry to Burgos old town
Looks like Disneyland
With a fantastic public exhibit
of large bronzes
By Manolo Valdez

But from here I must digress,
as I cannot go on,
in fairness to Pat,
who I have poked fun at a few times,
when she can't tell you
The bad pilgrim stories about me

#1 Bad Pilgrim
Meet miss Germany, about 40,
Bleached blond hair,
yoga tights and boots
Chain smoker

We've walked 5k before breakfast
It's 10am, outside at a bar,
A basically deserted town,
A chair opens up at her table,
We sit down
The good mornings are said
We get our coffee, she lights up
And swings her cigarette our way
I ask if she would mind
moving it to the other side
Her companion says
"Perhaps You can sit at another table"
Which is of course is a very good idea,
But was rude and snotty
the way it was said
So instead of ignoring them,
I stood up and told them
Where I come from,
it is rude
To blow smoke
In other's faces

I immediately felt right but stupid
And told Pat to hit me
If I ever tried
to make a point like that again,
with someone, who obviously
Could care less

#2 Bad Pilgrim
We are in Ages albergue
In about 7pm, hot and tired
After arriving at the previous albergue
In san Juan de Ortega, to find it closed
We were hot and tired,
clothes dirty for 3 days,
I decide to handwash everything
But it is 7pm and I am aware
It may not dry by morning
So I wash, rinse and ring out by hand
Knowing it isn't quite good enough
So I took someones dry towel
And rung my clothes into it
To get the excess water out
Bad pilgrim!

#3 Bad Pilgrim
This one is really bad...
We arrive in Burgos, wander into
The old town, stopping by a farmacia
Several beggars are wandering the streets
One in a wheelchair
And a little old woman
The man in the wheelchair was persistent
But left us alone
The little old woman slapped me
And scooted by quickly when I said no
and before I realized what I was doing
I swung my walking stick behind me
And got her in the leg
She cursed, an old man cursed
I ran into the farmacia wondering
If they would call the police

#4 Bad Pilgrim
Stole a needle
Out of the pincushion
Of the hotel
to pop my blister

All my confessions are done now
So I can go to communion with
A clean heart

Burgos is a city to explore another time
We walked on to Tardajos,
Had a cold beer
Went to Rabe where the book says
2 private hostels, lots of beds,
Breakfast included, but
Only one was open, 8 beds,
Only room for one of us,
Prohibited to sleep on the floor
So off to los Hornillos,
Across the beautiful meseta,
Easy walking but long, and hot









When we arrive, there are no beds,
A bicycle tour took over the albergue,
No room at the inn!
We wait, as it is late
And the next stop is too far
The hospitalero shows up with
Two mattresses, we sleep
In the town gymnasium, on the floor
Here we meet Heather and Griffin (13 yrs)

April 27 - Sunday - Castrojeriz
We walk to Castrojeriz today
A beautiful town
With three closed churches
And a castle ruin On the hill
We check into a cushy hotel, owned
By Pedro,
retired aeronautical engineer
And his wife,

We get our clothes washed
By their machine,
Take 3 baths,
Eat the sandwiches we bought
For breakfast, on the street corner bar
With olives and 3 euro wine

April 28 Boadilla del Campo

Took a 2nd day off
In Boadilla del Campo
A remote oasis, a hostel-albergue
run by a wonderful family

Met a young woman whose reason
For walking the Camino
Was her friend,
Whose cat, was near death,
Her friend told her that if the cat lived
She would walk the Camino
The cat lived,
The owner didn't walk it
But the idea charmed this woman
Who is here walking it now

A big influx of pilgrims
Started in Burgos
We are wondering if there will be
More days of no room
At the inn - there seems
To be a little competition brewing!

May 1, 2008 - The Meseta
We are still walking through
miles and miles of planted fields
we have discovered
the intermediate albergues,
smaller, with friendly owners,
the usual shower, laundry and meals
interrupt the meditation of walking

We left Boadilla del Camino, a town
that exists for pilgrims, with a family
whose life starts at 6, ends at 11
greets every pilgrim as if they
are the first person they have seen
in their lives










Passing the rollo, where the judged
were beaten with chains, we see the
palomares - large houses made of mud
for doves, which are a staple food here.

The road is long and straight now

We pass groves of cottonwood trees,
Planted for wind break and firewood.
The next two days are blustery and cold
We wear our wind and rain parkas
Hoping it does not rain as well.
We must be blessed because it is
Only cold and windy. Our noses
Run and we blow them into the wind
We are walking faster now
And our feet feel it

In between all of this we pass
And meet walking friends
Who we have met along the way,









Franz-Josef and Gaby, whose
Foot is infected and Franz Josef
Tends her like she is his baby
it is so sweet to watch them,
We should all be so lucky
To have someone like Franz Josef
To care for us.

Wolfgang, we have discovered
Is really an actor in Austria
Confirmed by other Austrians,
Just when we had decided that he might
Be all show for the camino,
The quiet man from Zaragoza
Eats by himself, and new additions,
Jenny and Steven from Australia
The world is walking here, all the talk
About where we are from,
How the feet are faring
Calling each other by our country
Rather than our names
Always hoping someone has news
Of other walkers we have met
Along the way.

Last night (29th) we arrived
in Caldazilla (sp?) to a private
albergue that we thought would
never show itself. At the door,
was Franz Josef, who we had not seen
in 3 or 4 days. Big hugs around,
and we got all caught up.
We washed our laundry, our feet, ourselves
and wandered down to the bar
where Luis (taxi driver) sat down with us
to tell us about the area, what to
see over the next few days and
to offer Gaby a ride to the hospital
to have her foot looked at.

We think this camino is about
the humanity people have for each other
No one is in business, no ones trying
to do anything but get there, helping each other
where we can - as that is about all you can do
when you walk all day, every day.

Get up, get dressed, fix your feet,
eat, walk, and walk, and walk
think when you can, or maybe not
because there are birds, and wheat talking
as you go by.
Today, Pat is 70

The path was interrupted only
By a road sign that said 70!
2e took a photo of 70 and 70 together
And walked into San Nicolas
A welcoming respite
Our days will be shortened in half
For the next three days
We will land in Leon on Monday
Taking the long slow way
1nd enjoy the last of the Meseta

150 new pictures on slideshow today

Today, I was finally able to get some photos up

they are all on the slide show on the right side

of the blog page

May 2 - May 16 All the Headlines

Well, more than two weeks have gone by since my last blog post.
We have been all over the place,
Encountered and re-encountered friends
Are now in Ruitelan at the foothills
Of Galicia

Here is a list of headlines from the last few weeks -
to be updated when I get to a good long internet access


May 2 - San Nicolas to Sahagun
A short walk today,
Landed in Sahagun early,
Deciding to stay at the Benedictine monastery
And go to vespers, sung by nuns
We arrived before the monastery opened
So we wandered back through town
To a cafe with elegant pastries
Visited the church which was built
In the Mudejar style, built
Simply, with geometric shapes, and few carvings,
a relief from the overdone massive Gothic
Structures that line the Camino

We settled into our monastery albergue
bunking with a polish woman cyclist,
a Spanish woman who had walked from Madrid,
'Primitivo' she tells us
And a woman from Poland
Who is riding her bicycle
There's a small bathtub, which
I usually use, but don't this time.

In town,
We run into Franz Josef and Gaby
Carrying bags from the bakery
We have a Cafe con leche
A cafe solo, share a sticky bun,
And agree to meet for Vespers at 7
Gaby can hardly walk
her feet look awful,
But she's not giving up.
Franz Josef will wait for her.

At 4pm, we go to the museum
Are greeted by two Spanish pilgrims
Brothers, of whom one is religious,
The other speaks for him.
We are told the museum will open
If the 'Jefa' (mother superior)
Decides she has the time.
We think it is like all other museums,
with certain hours, fees to get in
And time to wander around, but discover
That Mother Superior has another plan.
She lets us in, shuts the door behind us
And begins a private tour of the
Treasures and relics that she guards.

The bad pilgrim that I am, I sneak
taking pictures, when it is not allowed,
Hoping she won't catch me
One of the Spanish brothers is reverent,
The other wants to argue with her,
Which seems to be a favorite past time
With many of the Spanish,
A good old fashioned argument
for it's own sake, no hard feelings.

We see a copy of the codex calinxtus(sp?)
The famous statue of the Virgin Peregrina,
with walking stick, child and gourd,
dressed for the ball. She is gorgeous.
There are silver crosses, carvings
paintings and so many antique artifacts
that it's hard to remember what was there
without pictures (which don't turn out)
We are led into the church and she
goes behind a curtain and showers light
on the gilded retablo altarpiece

The religious Spanish man crosses himself,
We probably should, but don't
before we know it, the lights go out,
we are sent on our way, but not before
she gets us into her little shop to buy post cards.

At 7 pm, Gaby and Franz Josef
Meet us at the albergue, ready for vespers.
We are told they are sung by the monjas,
There is a small group of pilgrims waiting
As well as a group of local people who sit
On the other side of the church.
A nun takes her place at the organ,
the others file in and sit in two groups,
opposite each other and the singing begins.
They are using three different hymn books,
And change books during the songs,
It's a mystery why they have not memorized
These songs, as they are all quite old,
And have been doing this for a long time.
In the back row on the left, there is
A very old nun who resembles
Mother Teresa, bent in two,
Hardly able to hold herself up
It's hard to tell if she sings anymore.
When they kneel,
She bends further over,
We wonder if she will make it.
The singing is weak, but wonderful
You can't help but wonder
What will happen when these old
Servants of God, are gone,
As there don't seem to be
Any young novices in the group.

At the end of the singing,
All pilgrims are invited to the altar
To stand, and be given a blessing,
Then sent on our way.

For dinner, we find a pizza parlor,
Have a beer, eat pizza
And go home to bed.

May 3 Calzadilla de los hermanillos -
gypsy family takes over the albergue
and we meet three French military retirees
But first, Sahagun:
At 7am we are woken with music,
Are given breakfast,
Bread, butter, jam, and coffee.
The bicyclists are on their way,
They think they will finish within the week,
We are having a short day's walk,
With a reservation at a casa rural
In Calzadilla de los Hermanillos
We walk through several small towns,
more long straight countryside paths
and arrive around noon
in Calzadilla de los Hermanillos.
The albergue is open, but vacant
The man on the bench outside
Tells us to choose a bed
And we settle in, have showers,
Wash and hang clothes,
Check feet and bandages.

There is a bar in town
Which is known for being pilgrim friendly
We go down for lunch and a cold drink,
To gather our wits about us and read
The guide book - again.
While we are sitting there,
Three men from walk in
Looking for refreshment
They plan to keep walking
To El Burgo del Ranero
Then come back here in the morning
And continue along this path.

We ask them why they want to walk 8km
In another direction, when they can sleep
At the albergue here, and keep going
In the morning.
Jean-Paul is the speaker for the group
They are from France, 3 friends
Walking together. It is hot,
And getting hotter, so they decide
To Stay.

May 4 Manzanilla de las Mulas -
(hand on the saddle of the mules)
An old market town,
We couldn't wait to get out of here
The guide book says 'an elegant town'
Walled city with the walls intact,
Reality is that is it is a dirty, run down
Forlorn place that depresses us.
It is windy and cold, threatening to rain.
Nothing is open
The albergue is built around a courtyard,
the bathrooms on the opposite side
of the living quarters, the floors sag,
I sleep on a mattress on the floor
And Pat takes the top bunk.
She is not happy about the bathrooms
I just want to go to sleep
Then leave this town.
We hear there is an internet cafe
At the bus station
There is, but the computers
Don't work right,
The rooms are smoke filled
With old men playing cards,
Drinking wine and taking drags
On their cigarettes.
The bartender gets pissy,
Won't take our money for the internet use
We go back to town, wishing
It would get dark before 10pm
So we could go to sleep
And end this day.

May 5 Leon - a wonderful charming city

Great hotel


May 6 Villar de Mazarife -
a room with a view

May 7 Santibanez -
great dinner together with other walkers in a basically abandoned town


May 8 Walked through Astorga to Santa Catalina -
a changed town and local gossip!


May 9 Foncebadon, Cruz de Fierro,
we meet up with our French friends, Henri, Didier & Jean-Paul
and a Long downhill to El Acebo the rain begins








May 10 walked onto Ponferrada -
where we had 5 days to wait for Cynthia
and decided to go to Santiago and off to
Finesterre since we had the time and
we did not want to slow up

May 11 Lazy morning in bed in santiago

May 12 to finesterre and back

May 13 Cynthia arrives - oops she doesn't arrive --
gets stuck in Washinton Dc overnight

May 14 Cynthia doesn't arrive -
and we go back to Ponferrada to start walking again


May 15 thursday - Walked from villa franca del bierzo to Ruitelan -
Richard crossed our path, as did a swiss woman we met in St Jean Pied du port

May 16 friday - Cynthia arrived last night -
we walked through to Ocebreiro today

May 16, 2008 - Sarria to Comixa

My 16 arrived in sarria
where we were excited to find
a selection of privare albergues
We chosee the private albergue
That had the women's only room
Pat, cynthia, and I

Sarria has a castle tower which
Is missing it's castle, torn down
In a badly thoght out
'reconstruction' period

The weather has been blustery
But warm - with rain, clouds, sun
And just enough wind to let you know
That nature will get her way

We had our first bad bottle
Of vinegary red wine
Only 1 euro, what can I say,
Went back to the albergue early
To sleep

Pat crawls into her sleeping bag,
Pulls the head part tight over her head
I go out of the room to return
To a diatraught cynthia
Who has been confronted
By an angry German woman
Who claims I am cynthia's wife
And wants all the boots
Out in the hall
We don't understand the wife part

It's weird so we go out for a walk
But not before all the german women
In the room begin arguing with
Each other over whether to open
Or shut the window, whether boots
Should be in or out of the room
I don't speak German but am aware
They are arguing about more

We finally get to bed, our bunk mates
Talk to midnight, and it is an
Uncomfortable night

6:45am
Several pilgrims have left
It is dark, I turn on the hall light
So as not to disturb those
who are sleeping
One of the german women
Gets up
And turns it off
I turn it on
I am aware that I am about to become
A Bad pilgrim!

She needs it off as it shines
Through the glass
7 am
Is lights on time so I feel I am
Within my rights here to turn on
A light that is not in the room

Although she wants to sleep,
It is more important to
Get out of bed
Stand 6 inches from my face
And lecture me about turning on lights
Which pisses me off so I tell her
'Don't talk to me', which I thought
Was pretty nice considering
What I really wanted to tell her
But I am a good pilgeim, and dont do
What I want to do, which is
Punch her in the face!
Wow, that is a bad thought to have
When I am on a spiritual pilgrimage
But to tell the truth, I like rather like
being a bad pilgrim some of the time

So that took up some energy
On Saturday morning
And we shipped our backpacks ahead to where we were going to later in the day
So we could walk unencumbered
For one day

May 17 Sarria to Portomarin

It is as if the train came into town
Dropped off 500 pilgrims
Right in front of us!
Sarria is the last place
You can begin walking
And obtain your compostela certificate
So everyone is on the path

For the whole walk
We see a few pilgrims here and there
Today we see rows and rows
In front, and behind us
The morning is overcast,
Threatening to rain
We walk through some
Of the most beautiful countryside yet
Mixed with smelly cows, lots of mud
And it rains, we put on our gear
It stops, we get hot, take it iff
It goes on like this all day

There are rubbly towns and villages
That would be long forgottten
If it were not for the camino
And new cafe bars like the one
We stopped for lunch of lentils,
Rustic bread, wine, cheese
And jamon with melon

It rains while we are sitting
under the umbrella
We are getting immune
To the elements, more trouble to move
Than to sit and finish our lunch

We walk and walk, enveloped in the
Many shades of green, smells of
Rotting cow manure and muddy paths

May 18 Portomarin to Comixa

Too tired to write about today's walk,
but a few headlines to be finished later

Rain, rain

Covering the kilometers,
Only 58km to santiago!

We discover casa rurals,
NO more albergues!

Almost lose Pat to cowboys

We wear cynthia out

Gorgeos landscape!
Ready for Santiago

5/19/2008 Portomarin to Comixa

May 18 Portomarin to Comixa

After yesterday"s albergue mishap
We decided No More Albergues!
We landed in portomarin about 5pm,
Misty rain coming down our ponchos
Tied around us, rain jackets on

The river is dammed, covering
The old town, but the church
Was taken apart stone by stone
And proudly stands in the main plaza
The portico of glory (entrance)
Is a small replica of the musicians
That reside at the church portico
In santiago de compostela, although
A bit more worn

We are covering the kilometers,
Only 58km to santiago, we wondered when
We would pass into the double digits
Numerous times, we thought
We could make it o santiago by morning
If we just walked all night

But, the day wears on, we pass
Through farm after farm,
sometimes walking through people's
Front yards, feeling like trespassers
Yet this is where the yellow arrows
Tell us to go

We are in the area of celtic symbols
And crosses that depict christ
On the cross, with mary envelpoing
The child formed as a celtic knot
Skull and crossbones ar the bottom
Ladders, dice, hammers carved
On the other side

At four we pass a bar along the path,
Order wine, and sit inside to keep warm
It is Sunday, the time of day
where the men go out in groups
Of one to three for a shot at the bar
Then move to the next one

Today is no exception, but the bar
Is 5 km from anything else
And the men are cowboys,
A group of older men in long jackets,
Knee high boots with spurs
Cowboy hats and latigos
They are gentlemen cowboys
Up to the bar for a drink,
And a visit with the bartender

Pat asks one of them where his horse is
He points outside, but it looks
Like he is pointing to his home
Or some far away place
One by one, they enter
It is clear this is a special day
Pat gets up to look outside
And sees a lineup of horses
Saddles shined, halters with leather
Bangs, nervous and a little jumpy

She comes alive with this news
And starts herding the guys up
For. A picture, hamming it up
And they love every minute of it,
As does she,, and for a few minutes
I am sure she will ask one of them
For a ride, as part of this trip for her
Has been spent thinking of her young life
As a girl on a farn

But, their shots of whiskey
Are gone, conversations done
And they go out to their horses,
Climb on the fence to mount them
And are off

I thought for a minute
We would lose Pat to cowboys
And wondered how I would explain this
To her family

All in all it was a great walking day,
And cynthia, who is only in her third day
Was a real trooper, even though
We could see we had about worn her out

We landed in comixa about 6 pm
A small village, with a casa rural, a bar
Old stone buildings and church
The casa was heaven, a suite with
A bathtub, long cooked short ribs
For dinner and a grandmotherly hostess
Who was gregarious, and loved her work,
Some people are just cut out
For the lives they have chosen
For themselves.

She forbids us to get up and out
Before 8:30, and we reluctantly agree
And sleep until 7:45 this morning

5/21/2008 Comixa to Arca do Pino

It is very civilized in the Casa rurals
Wake up late, showers
And breakfast in a dining room.
We appreciate this and get a tour
Of the garden before we leave

Comixa is a rural neighborhood
With a mix of newly remodeled homes
And rock dwellings from times past
The mix of the new and the old
Is somehow reassuring
The carved cross leads us out of town
Along a country path
That winds around just out of earshot
of the highway and we hear the last
Cuckoo of the hoopoe bird
Who has followed us, just out of sight
For the whole walk

We enter Melide through the old town
Over a stone bridge
That crosses the Rio Furelos
We have come to love these old villages
And can't wait to get out of cities

We stop for food
At the Charlie Chaplin Cafe
A big disappointment, made up for
By the elvis songs they play just for us
And watching our waitress who is
Decked out in olive green sweater, beads
And about 50 pounds of fake gold jewelry,
Over a tight white satin blouse
Which Cynthia is sure covers fake breasts

On the way out of town
Cynthia fills her water bottle at the fountain
And accidentally sprays water
All over an elderly woman
Who is filling hers
We help dry her off, apologizing

We pass the church of Santa Maria
And a noon live concert for children
Who are all wearing the same color
Bandannas or baseball caps
We get turned around,
And lose our way out of town
A group of cyclists tell us we are going
The right way, but we aren,t sure
When a car pulls over next to us
To tell us where to go

Back on the path, at the 50km marker
A very old man walks our way
We say "hola Senor" and he hobbles
Our way, wanting to say something.
We are trying to take pictures
And he wants his picture taken too,
But only with Pat. When she takes
Her hat off, he insists the picture
Is to be with her hat on

His name is Jose, 84.5 years old
he gives us his address
Asking us to send him the photo
It is usually me
that the really old men
Take a liking to, so Pat
Is pleased and charmed,
And promises to put a photo
In the mail to him

Several hours later
We pass through Boente
Where the small church
Has an open door, so we go in.
The priest is giving a pilgrim blessing,
Our last before Santiago
He describes the saints in the retablo,
Stamps our credential and thanks us
He is genuinely happy we are there,
It makes our day to see one more
Of these little town churches
And to be blessed.

We make our way up to Arco do Pino
To our last night before Santiago
Cynthia cannot walk another step,
And we are ready to be done.

May/21/2008 - Arca do pino to Santiago

Last night we made plans to walk
from Rua, where we stayed,
Perhaps take a taxi to monte do gozo tomorrow
And walk into Santiago
Cynthia was completely worn out
Pat and I ready to end

This morning,
the fog was low to the ground,
lifting as we ate breakfast
Blue peeking through
We are instantly cheered,
Forget about all taxis and start walking

The day is gorgeous getting warmer
As we walk along, all the markers
Counting down a half a kilometer
At a time inspires us, we are laughing
And happy, taking pictures of ourselves
At each half kilometer marker,
It is beginning to sink in
Just how far we have walked

Suddenly, we look uphill and see
Our french friends, Jean Paul, Didier & Henri
Who we have not seen in over a week
Westart hollering, waving our poles, and catch up
Hugs all around and we share the stories
Of the last week - they, a gourmet dinner
In an albergue with a French chef,
All the hard rain we missed by going
To Santiago to meet Cynthia
The good and bad albergues
And a wife at the other end of the walk
It makes the walking go quickly
To walk with our friends, sharing stories

My toe is killing me again
And we arrive in Monte de Gozo
Where it is so clear that we can see
Santiago de Compostela,
We meet Henri's wife, Marie-Paul
Who has a picnic ready for her guys,
we have a beer and potato chips,
Fix feet and start the final 5km into
Santiago de Compostela

The Camino skitrs around the entire city
The yellow arrows are fewer and worn
Backpack carrying pilgrims are in front
And behind us, but no one we recognize.
We think the only thing
That could make this day better
Would be to see Gabi and Franz Joseph

Soon, we are in the old town,
Traffic left behind, led around
The back of the cathedral
It is siesta time, the city is quiet,
But not deserted,
Cynthia cannot believe
The size of the Cathedral
And she has only seen the back
We go to the front, whose doors
Are open today, and stare.

Pat and I have a teary hug,
A surprise to both of us,
We take pictures of each other
Go inside, where you can no longer
Place your hand on the carved tree
Nor bang heads with San Marcus
And receive his intelligence
But you can still go over the back
Of the altar, hug the gold, silver, jeweled
Statue of st. James,
Ending our pilgrimage, and our walk.

I am not full of emotion, nor sad
That it is over, and think things like
"It will all sink in over the next few months"
Or "thank God I don't have to share
A bathroom or bedroom"
or what gifts shall I bring back?
No earthshaking revelations
I think instead that I have been
In the moment, for too many hours a day
Being in touch with the physicality
Of what it takes to walk all day
To be looking for God or answers
To the questions that everyone will ask,
When I return