Thoughts on Freedom

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.

A Spiritual Being on a Human Journey

Early morning sounds greet me as I walk through a tiny village.
Birds chattering, church bells calling, babies crying, the soft clinking of breakfast dishes, and soft voices of morning conversation.

Sunday August 25, 2019
Puenta la Reine to Estrella
22 km, 33,000 steps

Most of the path today was packed gravel. Although still tricky, it is the most pleasant of the walking surfaces so far.

Just outside of Puente la Reina, I heard a loud motor-like sound. Thinking it was a drone, I looked up. Here's what I saw:

I amused myself by thinking: "Well that's just not fair!" (See yesterday's post), but I'm sure that travelling the Camino by motorized hang glider will not earn a Compostela (Certificate of completion)!

I'm developing quite a relationship with my walking poles.
I lean on them, and at times they need to lean on me.
They help me at all times, without question or complaint.
They are there whenever I need them, and when I don't need them to work, I carry them.
However if I use them incorrectly, they are quick to bring it to my attention, with a slip or an irritation on the palm pad of my index finger or at the base of my thumb.

My poles and I walked through vineyards. Here, "we" are on the approach to a tiny, very cute hamlet called Ciraqui.

Notice the elevation of the church at the center of town. Surely the route won't take us right to the top, just to lead us right back down. Surely is the right word. It surely did. Dudes, really??

I stopped for a breather there, and sat down with a lovely woman from France. We conversed in French. Talk usually goes like this: Where are you from? Where did you start your walk? Are you going to Santiago?"  Sometimes, the next question is: "Are you going on to Finnisterre"? Finnesterre is a place that is right on the Atlantic coast of Spain, about 75km west of Santiago. "Tradition" says that Pilgrims leave their boots there on the beach. I think that's a modern tradition designed to increase Spain's gross national income. But I digress. A German lad heard our conversation and he did ask us if we were going to Finnisterre. The French lady said, in that beautiful French that one only hears from people from France: Je suis soixante treize (I am 73). "Santiago, Kaput". And while she said the word Kaput, she made the universal sign for "completely finished in every sense": She crossed her wrists in front of her chest, hands open and palms down. As she said the work Kaput, she quickly separated her hands to her sides. It was priceless, and we all laughed. If anyone asks me if I'm continuing to Finnisterra, I will say "Santiago, Kaput! just like she did.

A cat in Ciraqui. Could that pose be any sweeter?? (I think not!).

I'm enjoying talking with people from all over the world. Aside from English, I'm able to speak to them in French, German, a little Spanish, and of course the universal language of gesture - all of us are especially fluent in the gestures for "it sure is ridiculously hot" and "dudes, how much farther is the next town"? (That gesture involves on person taking out their phone and opening Google maps, and the other person coming over with a very interested look on their face).

Tunnels are a favorite place to rest and cool off.

Me 'n Aulden from Brandford, chillin' in a tunnel. His wife Heather is taking the picture for me.

I had dinner in one of the squares near my hotel this evening. As I ate, I watched children playing soccer in the square, and listened to the church bells as the sun began to set.

Everyone comes out around 7:00 pm, when the temperature finally begins to drop. Dinner was steak, Portobello mushroom and fried potato wedges. Man, they do a great job with potatoes here. Sorry there's no photo of dinner. It was mostly gone before that thought crossed my mind.

Is anybody reading? Please comment or email so I'll know your with me!
carol.weinberg@gmail.com

Today Took All Day

You know it's hot ....
- When you tried to drink and walk at the same time, and you just spilled your juice on your hands, and you don't want to give up any of your water to wash your hands but your hands are going to be sticky and you need to use your walking sticks.....
- When the cold drink you bought a few minutes ago is now hot
- When you start to wonder when the tips on your walking sticks are going melt to the rocks, and you start calculating the distance to the next town where there might be an outfitter who sells new tips (almost every town, BTW, and new tips are 1.50 euros)
- When you take your cell phone out of your pocket to check your directions, and it's almost too hot to touch

Sat August 24, 2019
Pamplona to Puente la Reina
38,000 steps

Today's walk began in Pamplona, in a cool comfortable morning. I walked through the lovely and green university campus.

It was uphill for 10 km from there. Really. Uphill. 45 degree incline of smooth round rocks. What Spanish Einstein came up with the idea of lining the hills with loose, smooth, round rocks??

The temperature quickly rose as we also rose - we gained 350m in altitude over those 10 km. It was thrilling to see Pamplona drop away further and further into the distance, as we stopped at every tiny bit of shade to let our heart rates drop back down. Going quickly was not an option. That 10 km took 4 hours.

Midday at the Oasis

The highest point today was also the midway point. There is a lovely art installation depicting pilgrims over time. Also an official van of people who can offer any necessary assistance, and who sell cold drinks. Oh, yes please.

There are people who train on this route. Bikers, and runners. On my way up, a young man ran past me. He was wearing only spandex shorts, a chest heart rate monitor and running shoes. Barely breathing hard. Zero body fat. Passed me in a blur. Just as I was about to begin my descent, another pilgrim, a man perhaps 30 years old, came up behind me to begin his descent, too. Before taking our first step down, we see the runner (the one who passed me on the way up) running up towards us. We stood aside to let him pass, and let his wake cool us. The pilgrim turned to me and said "That's just not fair". We both laughed, and then began to pick our way through the rocky path down.

I had a laugh yesterday, too. Walking around a bend in the road, I came upon a cafe loaded with pilgrims. Walking sticks and backpacks were everywhere.

There was one seat in the shade, at a table occupied by a young Japanese woman. I asked if I could join her, and she agreed. Chihiro has just left her job in Japan, and was walking to give herself time to think about what to do next. Her job was a teacher, in a school for people who want to be music and movie stars. I asked her if the students of that school had much success. Her reply was "Not really. It's a very difficult business to get into". Another pilgrim came into the cafe and put his pack down at a nearby table. He said to us "please watch my pack, I'm going into the toilet". We said ok. After he left, we started to laugh. Everyone has their own pack to carry. Who is going to pick up his and carry it, too?? Who wants his dirty laundry? We have enough of our own! We giggled for a few minutes. We looked around and saw packs abandoned everywhere, the owners gone to cool their feet in the stream or take some pictures. We just found it so humerous. By the time the man returned, we had regained our composure, and we accepted his thanks for safeguarding his things. I can't be too hard on him. After all, he was only following the ancient adage: "Trust in the Lord but tether your camel".

✣     ✣     ✣     ✣

For all the hundreds of thousands of people who have walked this trail, the path can at times be very narrow - not even wide enough for a decent stride width and both walking sticks. It got me thinking. Life runs on some pretty narrow paths, too. We can only survive when our blood pH falls within a very small range of values. Same with blood oxygen, and core temperature. Our bodies exist on some very narrow paths.

✣     ✣     ✣     ✣

As I passed through this verymedieval arch, I began to think about those medieval pilgrims.

If timed correctly according to the seasons, it would be possible to sustain oneself with food foraged along the way.
One could start with a salad of blueberries and blackberries.

Entree could be a snared rabbit or a fish caught in the river, stewed with stinging nettles and flavoured with wild dill and wild caraway, enriched with these snails, who don't mind sleeping away the day in full sun, stuck at eye-level to the stems of herbs - like low hanging fruit.

The meal could be finished with rosehip tea, and then chicory roots could be roasted in the ashes of the fire, for making breakfast "coffee". As it is said: "The Camino Provides".

I began the 10 km descent at 12:30 pm. A 10 km walk at home takes me under two hours. I didn't finish today until almost 5:00. Heat, rocks and downhills, man. They'll do their worst to you. Ok, I'll confess. Like any medieval pilgrim, I did stop at a wayside inn at about 4:30 pm to quaff an ale. But that didn't take more than 15 minutes.
I arrived at the hotel covered in dust, dirt, sweat and salt. It was 34 degrees. I guess that's what you call a successful day on the Camino!

On the Camino We Take Care of Each Other

On the Camino we take care of each other
Friday Aug 23 Zubiri to Pamplona - 22 km, 35,000 steps

I left my inn at about 8:30 am. All was quiet. No other pilgrims in sight. Not even any dogs or birds or insects.

Where was the fanfare? Where were the lines of people cheering and encouraging me on my way? Doesn’t everyone realize that I am experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime event? Ok, you can walk the Camino more than once, but only once can you walk it for the first time. My innkeeper looked bored as I said thanks and goodbye. What for me is monumental is for the local people a daily grind. So I began my walk in grateful and enjoyable silence, while I make a small fanfare to myself (inside my head) and congratulate myself for completing yesterday and beginning today.

There was more uphill and downhill today, through the mountains. A lot of the path is a narrow dirt and stone walkway. Sometimes it is lined on either side with hedgerows of wild blackberries, wild plum trees loaded with ripe fruit, fig trees, pear and apple trees, elderberry bushes and wild grapes. All these will often grow towards each other forming a lovely and cooling roof over the path.

Beyond the hedgerows are farm fields, and as I walk I listen to the bleating and lowing of sheep and cows, with the musical accompaniment of the bells around their necks.

Shade alternates with sun. While walking in the shade, you feel cool air and smell the freshness and earthiness of the forest. Once in a while a butterfly joins me for a few steps. Everyone stops and takes a breather and drinks some water in the shady spots, so the shade is where you meet people and begin to form your “Camino family”. The sun is unrelenting. In those areas the rocks are hot, and the air is hot and carries the sweet smell of drying hay.

Sometimes the path has a “wall” of growth on one side, and a drop-off on the other side. The paths in these places have eroded to become quite narrow - only a foot wide in some places. I wonder how much longer these paths will last. It doesn’t look like they can be reinforced very easily. It might require a new path a little further down the slope.

The route is extremely well marked. There are official signs with arrows, and arrows painted on the road and on walls at every place where you must make a choice of where to go. In the larger cities there are also way markers embedded in the road. In the countryside, if there is any place at all that a pilgrim is not supposed to go, it is fenced off. It is almost impossible to get lost. (And if you take a wrong turn, as I did today at a place that was marked with multiple confusing signs, a local materializes as if out of nowhere ((which means he came around a corner on a bike)) to redirect you to the right route).

Wouldn’t it be grand if the directions for our lives were that well marked? But think - how many people do we know that knew or saw their path and kept to it? How many people do we know who arrived at where they are through a series of coincidences and/or fortunate or unfortunate events, or because they did not look up when a clear sign post was in view? How many people do we know who saw their sign post, and chose to go the other way?

I walked into Pamplona today with a couple from Ontario. They were walking the day before with a number of others, when they came upon that German girl who couldn’t continue. Some in their group carried her pack (which at 25 lbs was way too heavy for her to manage), and without the pack the girl was able to finish the day. The couple also told me that the girl was going to take the bus to Pamplona today and have a rest day in Pamplona. I was so relieved when I heard that, and I was so grateful that I had stopped to talk and make friends with these folk - for many reasons - but in particular so I could hear the happy ending to the story of the German girl. This couple, though very friendly and very kind, just could not find their way and had already gotten lost a few times. I tried showing them all the various markers and signs but I think they were just too tired. We entered Pamplona together, and I led them to their hotel. So its true: on the Camino we take care of each other.

Thoughts on Day 1

Thursday Aug 22 Roncesvalles to Zubiri

 I didn’t sleep very well last night - maybe nervous about my first Camino day. My alarm woke me up at 7:00 and of course someone in the hallway dragging their luggage down the stairs woke me up (again) at 7:30. It was a good thing, too, since luggage has to be in the pick-up area by 8:00! I’m glad I had the foresight to prep everything the night before.

 Breakfast was awesome as usual and included a very interesting potato omelet thing. I liked it. Finally it was time to leave the hotel and begin my journey. How would it feel? What would I think about? How would I manage? Who would I meet?

 At 8:30 am I took a deep breath and pushed open the glass door of the hotel exit. My pack was snug around my waist and my shoes felt good. It was a cool morning so I wrapped myself in my shawl that folds into almost nothing and fits in my pack when the day warms up and it’s not needed any more. I took my first steps on my Camino.

 Today was a walk of 23 km. It started through cow pastures, then went through the Pyrenees Mountains, up and down. It got me thinking….and by the end of the day I had developed some thoughts about “The Camino and Life”. I am certainly not the first to think about this, but, without having read others' thoughts on the matter, here is my take after Day 1:

 Many things reach out to touch you on the narrow path. Some things are soft and sweet like the new tips of evergreen branches. Some are sharp and will catch you like the blackberry brambles that lined today’s route.

 No-one has placed all their steps on the Camino in the exact same place as anyone else.

 Every time you place a foot, it is a choice. Every step you take has an impact on where you place your foot next. The only thing you can do is to make a choice in the present moment. The past steps are gone and the future steps are not determined.

 I started walking through cow pastures. I was mildly concerned when a bull began to follow me down the road. It turns out he was only interested in visiting his friends in the next field. What??!! It’s not always about me?? This time I’m thankful.

 The path continued mostly through forests. There was lots of shade today but the walking was quite technical, as most of the paths were through mountain passes. There were steep ascents and descents, and the surface was often covered in either small, super slippery gravel or larger (and just as slippery) rocks. I quickly had to abandon my training pace of 5 km per hour. Toto - I don’t think we’re walking in North York anymore. Practicing acceptance, gratitude and patience, I slowed my pace by a factor of four and carefully picked my way along the path. We all walk our own Camino, and we walk at the right pace for the terrain and for ourselves. Thank you, universe, for inventing walking sticks.

 I did learn something today: I like walking uphill MUCH more than walking downhill.

 Uphill: All you have to do is overcome gravity.
 Downhill: You have to fight gravity while at the same time control your motion and balance with your own strength.

 Uphill: You have 4 things to pay attention to: breathing, heartbeat, footsteps and the tapping of the walking sticks. If you hear all 4 things, you’re doing fine.
Downhill: Rocks will suddenly change their position from under your feet to much farther away - usually to outside your base of support, roots will appear to trip you. 

Uphill: The legs use mostly concentric muscle contraction (working while shortening) which I find satisfying and comfortable.
Downhill: The legs use mostly eccentric muscle contraction (working while lengthening) which I find nasty.

 Uphill: You get settled comfortably in the back of your shoes, and you just carry on. Downhill: Your toes get smooshed in the front of your shoes and that’s just nasty, too. (Please don’t lecture me on how to my shoelaces for uphill versus downhill - I’ve read it all.

And finally:

 Uphill: You have the satisfaction of summiting.
Downhill: You have the annoyance of hitting rock bottom, and of having given up all your kinetic energy. The one upside to achieving the bottom...you get to go up some more!

 I walked from 8:30 am to 3:00 pm. I passed many people, and many passed me. I noticed one girl who was struggling. She passed me slowly while I took a rest break, and a short while later I found her sitting down, talking on the phone, saying “Ich kan nicht mer” which is German for “I can’t do any more”. And so close to the route. I wonder how she will fare.

 I got into town (Zubiri) and my place for the night was located directly on the camino, at the very entrance to town, at the end of the medieval bridge that marks the town's border. Zubiri itself is only a few blocks worth of buildings, so my place wouldn’t have been hard to find, but in this case it couldn’t have been easier to find. All I had to do was look up!

I checked in and went out for a celebratory drink and dinner. I ordered the “Menu Peregrino” (“Pilgrim’s menu of the day - starter, main, dessert, and drink for one price) without even knowing what it was. If you don’t know me well, let me explain that this behaviour can be classified as almost, if not completely, unprecedented. What I received was al dente spaghetti (nice) in a very pleasant tomato sauce, a wedge of potato omelet (my current favorite thing) and salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and a Nestle confection for dessert. Ok, maybe next time I’ll do a tad more research. What can I say…. I was hungry.   

Now to unpack, repack and prep for the morning!
Bueno Camino!

As Planned

Things have gone pretty much as planned since Friday Aug 16th, when we left Toronto for Spain. The Uber to the airport was uneventful. There were no lines at security. We had free dinner and drinks (!) in the Diamond Infinity lounge.

The plane for Brussels left on time. The flight, although cramped for space was also uneventful.

Mark Knopfler's latest album was available on the entertainment system so I had a nice listen to that. The layover in Brussels was nice and comfortable, since we made use of the Diamond lounge there, too. It was early morning according to Brussels time (regardless of what our bodies were telling us), so I chose to have a Breakfast of Champions - Nutella, cheese, salami and whiskey.

 

 After another short plane trip we landed in Madrid. The Metro subway goes right into the airport terminal. It’s easy to find and easy to use. We took it directly from the airport to downtown Madrid. It was 38 degrees in Madrid - for them a cool summer day. We got out of the subway at recommended stop, and surfaced to the street. We hadn't bought SIM cards for our phones yet, so it was with a quick sense of horror we realized we didn't have Wifi, data or GPS. How to find our hotel?? Oh, ya - look up. Our hotel, as promised, was less than two hundred meters from the subway stop exit.
We checked into the Ayre Grande Hotel Colon. It’s a very nice hotel with many amenities and a very attractive rate! We slept for about 4 hrs, then went out to explore. We took public transit (bus) to Sol Plaza - lots of people and lots of buskers. We were very mindful of our valuables but there didn't really seem to be a problem and no-one approached us or looked suspicious.

We bought SIM cards for our phones - you have to show your passport to buy an international SIM card in Spain. Our passports were locked in the safe in our hotel room but we did have photographs of all our ID on our phones, and that was sufficient. And just like that, we were online and connected.

As planned, we had dinner in the La Latina district - a warren of narrow streets lined on both sides by tapas bars. Everyone is out, eating, drinking, talking, walking, and enjoying the slightly cooler post-sunset temperatures. The district is very crowded but very lively and fun. 

The next day the Prado Museum was on the top of our must-do list for Madrid. Although not necessarily planned, I usually have one spectacular fall per trip. Considering I would be walking almost 800 km (or maybe more than 800 km, given that I get lost frequently) I did wonder when that fall would occur, and how bad it would be. I didn't have to wonder for long. Day 2 in Madrid, not 100m away from the hotel in the morning, I tripped on the sidewalk were it had been lifted by tree roots. I flew, and skidded across the cobblestone. Goodbye to skin on right knee and right elbow. Can I be grateful? Yes - no broken bones. Also grateful that I had brought a large supply of first aid and pain medication. I thought I might need it during the Camino. I didn't imagine that I'd be breaking into it before my walk even began!

We did manage to get to The Prado and we enjoyed the audio tour, and the special exhibit designed to show the similarities between the Spanish, Flemish and Italian painters.

 

 A beautiful green bird eyeing a fig, just before the feast began! 

As planned, we took the high speed train to Pamplona the next day - a 2 1/2 hour trip through country side that was burnt yellow by the heat. We spent a lot of time roaming the older parts of Pamplona, again seeing the must-see spots, walking along the path of the Running of the Bulls, and touring the bull ring - the Plaza del Toros.

 

Lots of tapas, lots of walking, lots of churches and statues, and lots of people out and about. Pamplona was cooler and very comfortable to walk around.

 

Pamplona City Hall and the lively square in front of it. 

Half wheelchair, half bike!

Finally, as planned, Wed Aug 21, 2019, I got on a bus in the newly built Estation d'Autobus (Bus station) in Pamplona and 1 1/2 hours later arrived in Roncesvalles (Ron-thes-vie-ess), where I was to begin my camino the next morning. Wednesday Aug 21, 2019 was a lovely, sunny day with a cool breeze. Roncesvalles, although tiny - you can walk around it in 15 minutes - has a busy tourist information office, a Pilgrim office, many hotels and restaurants and a few ancient churches - one was built in 776 CE. Everyone is here for the same reason - to leave on their way in the morning. We're all milling about, looking with great interest at everything, sitting on patios drinking beer, standing up and taking a step this way and then that way, looking for the best angle to take a picture, waiting for dinnertime, waiting for bedtime, waiting for tomorrow to set off with boots and walking sticks.

THE roadsign in Roncesvalles

I had dinner in the hotel restaurant. Menu of the Day had many choices. I chose Chevre salad, which was just about the best salad I have ever had in a restaurant. Lots of greens, lots of walnuts chopped the perfect size, juicy leaves of endive, balsamic vinegar, tomatoes, and a thick round slice of chevre which was not too tangy, not too salty, just right. Iberian sirloin with roquefort sauce and hand-cut french fries followed, and then rice pudding for dessert. What’s that you say?? Hey - I'm walking 22 km tomorrow - yeah - that's my excuse. Oh, did I mention that every prix fixe menu comes with a bottle of water, an entire bottle of wine and bread??

If you want a certificate of completion when you arrive in Santiago de Compostela, you must carry a Pilgrim’s passport (Credentiale) and get it stamped in every town. I got my first stamp in my Credentiale. I'll have more than 50 by the time I'm finished. 

My goal is clear, and right now I'm very excited and optimistic. As we say in my family "More news at 11:00" which basically means I'll keep you updated as things develop. TTFN, TTYL. Ciao amigos, hasta luego. 

A Most Educational Day

Today looked like a good day for a training walk. I geared up with all the equipment that I have been training with for the last 6 weeks. Shoes, wool socks, lumbar pack. After 5 km I got my first blister. Between my toes!!!  I've been walking this distance and more regularly for 6 weeks!! How could this happen?? Shocked and appalled, I was. Dumbfounded. I was taken completely by surprise. And no first aid in my pack.

Lesson One: Blisters are gonna happen, especially when and where you least expect them
Lesson Two: Never, ever, ever leave for a hike without first aid!!


At about 7 km, I decided to take a slightly different route, which would soon meet back up again with my usual route. On this short detour, I was given a gift of the following: after rounding a curve of a street (I was in a residential neighbourhood), I watched as a little boy was being pushed on his bicycle by his mom. He was whooping for joy. It was clearly his first successful ride on a two-wheeled bike. He was so overjoyed that as he passed me, grinning from ear to ear, he said "Did you see that"?  I applauded him and told him what a great job he did. That kept me smiling for the rest of the hike.

Lesson Three: It's ok to take a different path, maybe it's even good, or it could even be great.
Lesson Four: There will be joy where you least expect it.

My cell phone didn't have much charge, so I turned it off and was following written directions I had prepared, instead of using the phone's GPS. At about 12 km, I turned east instead of west. Dang my non-existent sense of direction and dang my left/right/east/west dyslexia.

Lesson Five: Have a fully charged cell phone
Lesson Six: Keep it turned on!
Lesson Seven: The directionally challenged should use the GPS at evert turn!!

At about 14 km, just as I began to look for a bus stop because the blister was hurting so much, there appeared a pharmacy. I hobbled in and bought a small "travel pack" of bandages - total cost $2.25. I took a seat on the bench that providence has placed for me, right outside the store. One bandage went on my toe with the blister, and another went on the toe touching the bandage , so I wouldn't get a blister on that one from rubbing on the bandage. Perfection. I was able to finish the final 2.2 km home.

Lesson Eight: The Camino provides, even when you are training!