Feeling like Hemingway, I am writing at a desk in a hotel room in Spain. It's very early evening. My balcony doors are open and I can hear the town of Los Arcos beginning its evening life.
Estrella to Los Arcos
Monday Aug 26, 2019
22 km, 34,000 steps
Today was gloriously overcast. Everyone delighted in the decreased temperature and the breeze. It was the least hilly day, and the path of small gravel was nice to walk on. For me it was an easy, successful day.
So I was thinking...... One of my goals was to be mindful and present during this walk. Actually, it's not even a choice - it's a requirement. Although the road signs are usually there when you need them, sometimes they are confusing, and sometimes they are not visible for another 20m or so, or maybe they're not in sight yet due to that curve, or that tree. Walking the Camino successfully requires being constantly aware of where you are, and where you want to end up. You are only as "on the right path" as your last way marker. Did your mind wander for a moment? Did you daydream and go straight at the fork because that was the way your feet were pointing? A mistake could cost a hill, or 500 steps, neither of which are welcome at any time of the day.
I'm not going to follow the arrow to the place on the bottom of this sign, either!
So I stay aware, and to help me find my way I use all the information I have at hand. There are the official blue and yellow signs, there are simple yellow arrows painted on walls, fences and posts (but these seem, at times, to be "forged" to direct you to a bar or restaurant). Then there are the other pilgrims. By example (i.e. on their way up ahead) or by instruction (telling me "it's this way"), they have ideas about which is the right way. And finally there is Me, and my GPS. I take in information from all sources, and then I make up my own mind about which is the right way for me. I'm not interested in letting anyone else take the wheel. That kind of letting go is not what I see as freedom. It's more like being a tile in someone else's mosaic. And if that person is creating their mosaic on a flexible backing, then the future can only hold woe.
I feel like I have a great deal of freedom here on the Camino. I think I feel around 99% free. The missing 1% is made up of the general rules of socially acceptable human behaviour, plus the 1 rule that I do have to follow here.....my luggage has to be in the reception area of the hotel before 8:00 am, so it makes it onto the truck that transports it to my next hotel. Beyond that, every decision I make is my own: when and where and what to eat, what to carry in my day pack, what to leave behind, when and where to stop and rest and for how long, what to photograph, and what to choose to just remember.
I think I'll stop now at this fountain for some free wine!
The monks at Monasterio de Irache fill the Fuente del Vino (wine fountain) daily for pilgrims. You drink a few sips out of your scallop shell. One faucet has red wine and the other faucet has water!
I think I'll stop now and have lunch here. If you zoom in, you can see a tiny food truck. Today's walk was through a dry and isolated area, with very few resources. Right at the point where people (including me) were very tired, very hungry and very thirsty, there appeared a food truck. In pretty much the middle of nowhere!
Enjoying Zuma de Naranha (Orange juice) and my favorite lunch: Potato Tortilla
One very nice thing I have at the moment is the freedom to think, and to let one idea lead to the next, on and on, letting one idea lead to another as far as they want to go, until I feel that I have come to a comfortable endpoint, or maybe back to the beginning.
But - I think freedom without structure could not be healthy or enjoyable. Children need structure to develop and thrive (or so I've read). Humans need some type of structure to their lives, or it's not living, it's floundering. I do have structure here - I have a goal and endpoint for every day. I just have complete freedom in how I eventually get there.
Some societies are highly structured, where people live by rules that govern most of the daily lives. It's possible to find a type of freedom even in that. The more rules, the less decisions. The less chance of offending or needing to negotiate or compromise. I wonder if some people find that level of structure comforting on some level. I'm NOT saying that people in rigid societies are are free. I'm just exploring concepts.
I've been talking to lots of people. A few considered themselves free to make a quick decision about walking the Camino. They tell me they made their plans only a few weeks ago. One otherwise very intelligent woman wore out her walking poles by day two. She had never learned to use them properly and didn't train with them. She had bought new shoes. She didn't train in them, and they damaged her ankles. She threw the shoes away and limped in sandals. I could talk about freedom v.s. stupidity, but I don't think I have to. I met another woman who trained successfully in her shoes and socks. On the Camino she developed a benign rash at her sock line (as almost all of us do) so she took someone else's advice about new socks and is now suffering with blisters. (See paragraph on decision making, above). The people who tell me they didn't do much walking before, or they just decided on the spur of the moment, to come to Spain and walk more than 20 km/day, are the ones who curse and groan on the hills. They're the ones who say their knees and hips are sore. They're the ones who say "Today is a hard day. I don't have the energy I had yesterday."
Here's my style of freedom:
5 years of research and mental preparation
1 year of material preparation
8 months of travel preparation
6 months of physical preparation
I wake up feeling pretty good and I have enough energy for the day.
To the hills going up I say "bring it on."
To the kilometres I say "bring 'em on."
I thought long and hard about what to ask for, and I'm getting what I asked for.
Bring. It. On.
There are also many people who have prepared diligently and who are walking calmly and comfortably. I met two of them on day 1. I didn't want to say anything before, buy my elbow was hurting so badly that I wanted to cry. I had taken off the bandages and I was hoping the sun would help. I saw this couple sitting on a bench in some shade. They were probably 65-70. They looked very friendly, capable, caring, and warm. They just emanated the message "ask me and I can help you". They wore Camino badges, so I asked them if they were "hospitaleros" - people trained to help pilgrims. They said no, but what did I need? I showed them my arm, and I asked if they thought I needed a doctor. They said they didn't think so, but I did need a proper dressing. Nadine went straight to her med kit and brought out an antiseptic dressing. I provided gauze. Nadine and Patrick from France carefully dressed and wrapped my poor elbow, but the gauze was too long. Patrick took out a giant knife and came towards me with it. In the most gorgeous French accent he said "don't worry, I'm not a serial killer." He cut the gauze and finished the dressing. My elbow began to feel better immediately. I met up with them today in Los Arcos, and I was pleased to show them how much better my elbow is getting, although it is still sore, blue and green with bruising, and still has scabs. Here are my two French Angels of Mercy (Patrick is the one with the knife)!
It turns out my first impression of them was correct. They are lovely - friendly, warm, articulate, educated, well-travelled, soft spoken and so loving with each other. Their energy is irresistible.
Yesterday part of me was still in the mindset of "getting to the destination". Granted, it was so hot, most of us just wanted it to be over. However, I would hurry on the flats and then need to rest. I would try to get up the hills without too much slowing down, and then I would have to rest. And so on like that through the day. I did notice, many times yesterday, a quiet older woman, walking quite slowly with her backpack and walking stick. How did I notice her many times? Because she kept passing me! All my scheming was for nothing. She and I entered Los Arcos at the same time!
Today I set my intention: to walk slowly and evenly and enjoy the walk, and that's just what I did. And I really liked it.
My favorite sign of the day:
Whaaaaatt??? Well it's a good thing Los Arcos at least provides hand grenades!
I was just too hungry at 6:00 to wait for the restaurants to open, so I found the one mercado (grocery store) and bought dinner to eat in my hotel room while I tried to watch Big Bang Theory dubbed in Spanish. They got the voices right!
Here's my 5 euro dinner ($7.50):
My favorite thing today: The sound of the wind as it rustles the leaves of the trees and the tall grasses at the roadside. I have adopted that for the music of my own personal fanfare.
Estrella to Los Arcos
Monday Aug 26, 2019
22 km, 34,000 steps
Today was gloriously overcast. Everyone delighted in the decreased temperature and the breeze. It was the least hilly day, and the path of small gravel was nice to walk on. For me it was an easy, successful day.
So I was thinking...... One of my goals was to be mindful and present during this walk. Actually, it's not even a choice - it's a requirement. Although the road signs are usually there when you need them, sometimes they are confusing, and sometimes they are not visible for another 20m or so, or maybe they're not in sight yet due to that curve, or that tree. Walking the Camino successfully requires being constantly aware of where you are, and where you want to end up. You are only as "on the right path" as your last way marker. Did your mind wander for a moment? Did you daydream and go straight at the fork because that was the way your feet were pointing? A mistake could cost a hill, or 500 steps, neither of which are welcome at any time of the day.
So I stay aware, and to help me find my way I use all the information I have at hand. There are the official blue and yellow signs, there are simple yellow arrows painted on walls, fences and posts (but these seem, at times, to be "forged" to direct you to a bar or restaurant). Then there are the other pilgrims. By example (i.e. on their way up ahead) or by instruction (telling me "it's this way"), they have ideas about which is the right way. And finally there is Me, and my GPS. I take in information from all sources, and then I make up my own mind about which is the right way for me. I'm not interested in letting anyone else take the wheel. That kind of letting go is not what I see as freedom. It's more like being a tile in someone else's mosaic. And if that person is creating their mosaic on a flexible backing, then the future can only hold woe.
I feel like I have a great deal of freedom here on the Camino. I think I feel around 99% free. The missing 1% is made up of the general rules of socially acceptable human behaviour, plus the 1 rule that I do have to follow here.....my luggage has to be in the reception area of the hotel before 8:00 am, so it makes it onto the truck that transports it to my next hotel. Beyond that, every decision I make is my own: when and where and what to eat, what to carry in my day pack, what to leave behind, when and where to stop and rest and for how long, what to photograph, and what to choose to just remember.
The monks at Monasterio de Irache fill the Fuente del Vino (wine fountain) daily for pilgrims. You drink a few sips out of your scallop shell. One faucet has red wine and the other faucet has water!
One very nice thing I have at the moment is the freedom to think, and to let one idea lead to the next, on and on, letting one idea lead to another as far as they want to go, until I feel that I have come to a comfortable endpoint, or maybe back to the beginning.
Some societies are highly structured, where people live by rules that govern most of the daily lives. It's possible to find a type of freedom even in that. The more rules, the less decisions. The less chance of offending or needing to negotiate or compromise. I wonder if some people find that level of structure comforting on some level. I'm NOT saying that people in rigid societies are are free. I'm just exploring concepts.
I've been talking to lots of people. A few considered themselves free to make a quick decision about walking the Camino. They tell me they made their plans only a few weeks ago. One otherwise very intelligent woman wore out her walking poles by day two. She had never learned to use them properly and didn't train with them. She had bought new shoes. She didn't train in them, and they damaged her ankles. She threw the shoes away and limped in sandals. I could talk about freedom v.s. stupidity, but I don't think I have to. I met another woman who trained successfully in her shoes and socks. On the Camino she developed a benign rash at her sock line (as almost all of us do) so she took someone else's advice about new socks and is now suffering with blisters. (See paragraph on decision making, above). The people who tell me they didn't do much walking before, or they just decided on the spur of the moment, to come to Spain and walk more than 20 km/day, are the ones who curse and groan on the hills. They're the ones who say their knees and hips are sore. They're the ones who say "Today is a hard day. I don't have the energy I had yesterday."
Here's my style of freedom:
5 years of research and mental preparation
1 year of material preparation
8 months of travel preparation
6 months of physical preparation
I wake up feeling pretty good and I have enough energy for the day.
To the hills going up I say "bring it on."
To the kilometres I say "bring 'em on."
I thought long and hard about what to ask for, and I'm getting what I asked for.
Bring. It. On.
There are also many people who have prepared diligently and who are walking calmly and comfortably. I met two of them on day 1. I didn't want to say anything before, buy my elbow was hurting so badly that I wanted to cry. I had taken off the bandages and I was hoping the sun would help. I saw this couple sitting on a bench in some shade. They were probably 65-70. They looked very friendly, capable, caring, and warm. They just emanated the message "ask me and I can help you". They wore Camino badges, so I asked them if they were "hospitaleros" - people trained to help pilgrims. They said no, but what did I need? I showed them my arm, and I asked if they thought I needed a doctor. They said they didn't think so, but I did need a proper dressing. Nadine went straight to her med kit and brought out an antiseptic dressing. I provided gauze. Nadine and Patrick from France carefully dressed and wrapped my poor elbow, but the gauze was too long. Patrick took out a giant knife and came towards me with it. In the most gorgeous French accent he said "don't worry, I'm not a serial killer." He cut the gauze and finished the dressing. My elbow began to feel better immediately. I met up with them today in Los Arcos, and I was pleased to show them how much better my elbow is getting, although it is still sore, blue and green with bruising, and still has scabs. Here are my two French Angels of Mercy (Patrick is the one with the knife)!
 |
It turns out my first impression of them was correct. They are lovely - friendly, warm, articulate, educated, well-travelled, soft spoken and so loving with each other. Their energy is irresistible.
Yesterday part of me was still in the mindset of "getting to the destination". Granted, it was so hot, most of us just wanted it to be over. However, I would hurry on the flats and then need to rest. I would try to get up the hills without too much slowing down, and then I would have to rest. And so on like that through the day. I did notice, many times yesterday, a quiet older woman, walking quite slowly with her backpack and walking stick. How did I notice her many times? Because she kept passing me! All my scheming was for nothing. She and I entered Los Arcos at the same time!
Today I set my intention: to walk slowly and evenly and enjoy the walk, and that's just what I did. And I really liked it.
My favorite sign of the day:
I was just too hungry at 6:00 to wait for the restaurants to open, so I found the one mercado (grocery store) and bought dinner to eat in my hotel room while I tried to watch Big Bang Theory dubbed in Spanish. They got the voices right!
Here's my 5 euro dinner ($7.50):
My favorite thing today: The sound of the wind as it rustles the leaves of the trees and the tall grasses at the roadside. I have adopted that for the music of my own personal fanfare.
I walked a lot today, too (in Seville). But I got lost every 50 feet. Signs are hard to find. Streets go everywhere but straight. My map is too tiny to read. My GPS can't see the sky, and I have taken so many pictures, my phone's memory is all but used up. Ask for directions, you say? No hablo Español. Good thing Spanish for "Taxi" is "Taxi," as in "Si no queremos llegar tarde, quizá deberíamos tomar un taxi," which means, "If we don't want to arrive late, perhaps we should take a taxi." Ain't it the truth.
ReplyDelete