Well, we went a while without an update, sorry about that! And I've got my own computer back, which means you get a monster update for the final chapter of this Camino saga. Make yourself a sandwich, this might take a while.
I did it. It sends huge chills and shivers of awe and wonder through me to even think those three words, much less say them out loud. Makes me smile uncontrollably and hang my head in reverence for what I've accomplished. I walked the Camino Frances from start to finish. Eight hundred kilometers, thirty days from one end of Spain to the other, all one step at a time. I walked up and over the Pyrennes, along the path of the Encerrio in Pamplona, through endless fields of grapevines and vineyards in Rioja, across the flat, vast, dry, hot expanse of the Meseta, along the streets of Leon with balconies exploding with pink and purple flowers, through the fog and rain in the mountains of Galicia, and finally, after days and weeks of sometimes excruciating walking, I made it to Santiago de Compostella.
You can read the story of the Camino all over my body. From my puffy, stiff, calloused and blistered feet; to the slow, measured, pained way I walk; to the way I push myself up out of my seat with my hands to avoid putting undue strain on my knees; to my thin stomach and gaunt cheeks; to the tan on my arms, legs and neck and my long, sun bleached hair. The Camino certainly took its toll, and after the thrill of finally having made it to Santiago faded I was overcome with a sudden, incredible weariness.
Turning the corner and finally seeing the cathedral in Santiago for the first time, where the Camino officially ends, was nothing short of incredible. They say that it's the journey and not the destination that matters with these sorts of things, but reaching the end point of my pilgrimage, this thing that I had been walking towards for over four weeks, was just unreal. It made every 6 AM wake up, every tight and unyielding muscle, every limp at the end of a 40 kilometer day worth it. The last 20 kilometers that I had to walk that day were some of the hardest of the entire trip, and I just plodded my way along for the whole way. The psychological effect of being so close to the end and knowing that I was almost finished really sapped my energy. All of that disappeared when I saw the facade of the cathedral for the first time. It was even bigger than I imagined it, and had such a grand and awe inspiring presence, full of statues and pillars and pinnacles and towers and facades, all of it over 800 years old. I walked the last few steps to a staircase close by, sat down hard and just looked at it, an indescribable feeling swelling in my chest, grinning like an idiot and shaking my head and getting funny looks from everybody walking by. I swear I almost cried, but just as all those beautiful emotions were reaching their peak a gypsy came up shaking a cup and asking for money. Sorta brought me back down to earth, but didn't disturb the atmosphere too much.
And what did I do it for? What kept me going for those 30 days? How did I bring myself to get up so early every morning and hobble out the door of the albergue to the next village? Why didn't I just hop on a bus and head to Madrid or Barcelona or Sevilla and spend what precious, limited time I have left in Europe doing something comfortable and relaxing? Sometimes even my fellow pilgrims didn't understand why I was doing the Camino, since it's hard enough just to get over to Europe as an American and there's so much else to see.
I guess at first I wanted to do something really special to finish this year and bring everything to a close. I've grown and changed and learned and experienced so much ever since September last year when I first arrived in Cologne, fresh off the airplane and totally ignorant of what these past 358 days would be like. It seemed like a good way to finish an adventure like the one I've had--a pilgrimage, not just a backpacking trip, but a journey with a meaning behind it, a reason and tradition and spirit.
At least that was the conception I had of the Camino before I went into it. I had no idea how physically challenging it would be. Sure, I've done weekend backpacking trips with backpacks that were three times as heavy as the one I had on the Camino, but the Camino is no simple backpacking trip, it's a marathon. The endless walking day after day really wore on me, and even after day one my legs were in terrible condition. My first 100 kilometers took me just over four days to complete, which is very slow, but it was an incredible feat at the time, one I celebrated with a long breakfast in Cirauqui. Initially I wanted to walk the whole way of course, but with all the difficulties I was having I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it. I slowed down my pace, falling short of my 25 kilometer goal almost every day, and eventually I came to tell myself, "OK, it'll be great if you can walk this whole thing, but if it's just too hard then you can take a bus to make up for lost time. No shame."
And so the importance of the Camino as a pilgrim's path faded for me. It changed into something I did for the pleasure of it rather than the sacrifice. I wasn't really a pilgrim, I was a sightseer, a tourist. But as I continued walking the power of the thing took hold of me. As I walked I met some amazing, committed people, pilgrims and hospitaleros alike. People who had sacrificed so much time and who had sometimes planned for the Camino for years, who had started literally from their front doors in the Netherlands and France and Austria and who had been walking for months. I stayed in a number of parochial albergues in the backs of cathedrals and churches and monasteries, and felt such love and respect from the volunteers who worked there--hospitaleros who weren't in it to game you for your money, but who wanted to make sure you were as comfortable and taken care of as humanly possible. After spending a couple of weeks on the Camino and really discovering the heart and soul of it I decided to finally give the it it's due. To walk every single painstaking and brutal kilometer and and pay the respect to it that it deserves.
The reward of reaching the end has been incomparable. Knowing that I was capable all along of walking the whole thing from beginning to end, meeting so many wonderful people from so many different countries and walks of life and being able to hear their stories, turning the corner of that alley and seeing the cathedral and feeling that incredible rush of knowing that I'd done it, that made every centimeter, every pained step of this journey worth it, and I am so glad that I had the chance to experience it.
And that, as they say, is that! I hope you enjoyed reading, I enjoyed writing it down. With the end of the Camino de Santiago my travels are over, and on Tuesday I'll finally be flying back to the USA after a year away. Until next time my friends :)
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Camino day 24 and kilometer 600
Here we are at the home stretch of this thing finally. I've only got six days left on this whole adventure, and as of this afternoon only about 180 kilometers left until I reach Santiago de Compostela. Like always, the idea of stopping is a little strange. For the past month and a half I've constantly been on the move, living out of a backpack, seeing and tasting and breathing in all of these beautiful places that I would have otherwise never seen. Speaking in a crazy mix of English, German, and a bizarre pidgin Spanglish to get around in Spain when I can't use either of the first two. Meeting people from all over the world with a million different stories. On one hand it's sad to think of it all coming to an end, especially in the sense that once I'm finished with the Camino it's going to be time for me to finally go back to Utah and the USA after living for a year on this amazing continent, but on the other hand it's going to be nice. I think I'm finally reaching the limits of what my body is capable of. I've THOUGHT that I've reached my limits plenty of times in the past three weeks of course, but this morning the Weariness plunged to a whole new depth. I stopped ten kilometers short of my goal today, and was dragging some serious ass down the trail all day, barely able or willing to take photos of or even look at all of the amazing scenery I was plodding my way through.
But the Camino is, of course, constantly leaving me awestruck and bewundert with every passing day. I had heard before getting to Galicia that this is the most beautiful part of the Camino, and that has aboslutely proven to be true. As I walk up and over and through these mountains and hillsides covered with vinyards and these beautiful little towns I'm getting flashes of what I thought it would be like before leaving. For a vast majority I'm walking on nice dirt trails, far removed from the highway and civilization, with vast, sweeping views of the mountains around me after every turn. It has really been some of the best scenery of the whole trip, and it's been a great way to bring the Camino to a close.
For the most part the new pilgrims aren't disturbing the experience as much as I thought they would. Sure, you can tell who are the novices and who are the experienced pilgrims almost instantly when you see them, but I'm trying to avoid getting snotty about it. I can't help the occasional "Yep, too much stuff in your backpack terrible shoes waist strap is too low and you're walking too fast" thought flashing through my head, and the atmosphere on the Camino itself is a lot less personal than it was before León (not to mention more crowded), but fortunately the albergues are still the same as always. You have to get there pretty early in the day sometimes, but the people you're sharing the albergue with, whether they've been walking 60 kilometers or 600, are still as friendly and open and inviting as they've ever been.
Met some funny characters too, one Italian in particular. I don't know his name, I refer to him as Bacchus in my head. For the past three days or so we've been staying at all the same hostels, and he seems to be intent on being as loud and drunk and merry as he possibly can at all times of the day. One night, when I was sitting at a table with a bunch of Spaniards and Italians, he was constantly refilling glasses from a big jug of wine he had with him. When he got to my glass he'd yell "Hey! America boy! Italian Style!!!" each time, at one point taking me by the shoulders and putting me back on the bench with the others when I tried to go back inside, despite my polite yet forceful protestations that I'd had quite enough Italian Style and just wanted to go to sleep. When he walks he has a big Italian flag that he flies from his walking staff, and he shouts "Italia Numero Uno!" to everybody he sees on the street. Interesting guy to be sure.
But the Camino is, of course, constantly leaving me awestruck and bewundert with every passing day. I had heard before getting to Galicia that this is the most beautiful part of the Camino, and that has aboslutely proven to be true. As I walk up and over and through these mountains and hillsides covered with vinyards and these beautiful little towns I'm getting flashes of what I thought it would be like before leaving. For a vast majority I'm walking on nice dirt trails, far removed from the highway and civilization, with vast, sweeping views of the mountains around me after every turn. It has really been some of the best scenery of the whole trip, and it's been a great way to bring the Camino to a close.
For the most part the new pilgrims aren't disturbing the experience as much as I thought they would. Sure, you can tell who are the novices and who are the experienced pilgrims almost instantly when you see them, but I'm trying to avoid getting snotty about it. I can't help the occasional "Yep, too much stuff in your backpack terrible shoes waist strap is too low and you're walking too fast" thought flashing through my head, and the atmosphere on the Camino itself is a lot less personal than it was before León (not to mention more crowded), but fortunately the albergues are still the same as always. You have to get there pretty early in the day sometimes, but the people you're sharing the albergue with, whether they've been walking 60 kilometers or 600, are still as friendly and open and inviting as they've ever been.
Met some funny characters too, one Italian in particular. I don't know his name, I refer to him as Bacchus in my head. For the past three days or so we've been staying at all the same hostels, and he seems to be intent on being as loud and drunk and merry as he possibly can at all times of the day. One night, when I was sitting at a table with a bunch of Spaniards and Italians, he was constantly refilling glasses from a big jug of wine he had with him. When he got to my glass he'd yell "Hey! America boy! Italian Style!!!" each time, at one point taking me by the shoulders and putting me back on the bench with the others when I tried to go back inside, despite my polite yet forceful protestations that I'd had quite enough Italian Style and just wanted to go to sleep. When he walks he has a big Italian flag that he flies from his walking staff, and he shouts "Italia Numero Uno!" to everybody he sees on the street. Interesting guy to be sure.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Camino day 20--León and beyond
Finally on the downhill slope of things. As of tomorrow I will have been walking for three weeks straight, which is really a crazy thought when you think about it. You can peg numbers and distances onto it--788 kilometers, 488 miles, 30 days--but even after having walked all of those kilometers (500 as of today) and spent so much time on the Camino it's still incredibly difficult to grasp and understand in your head. Yesterday I was in León, and I looked at a map in the albergue I stayed at, and discovered I've basically walked two-thirds of the way across Spain. There is so much experience and memory and so many fellow pilgrims that I've met in those 500 kilometers (not to mention a hell of a lot of walking), it's really just incredible. Puts you in a reverent state of mind when you realize the power and scale of it all.
León turned out to be really nice. I've found I'm not a big fan of the large cities on the Camino. Sure, they're big, they've got more going on than the smaller little villages along the way, and there's more to see, but they also have such a different atmosphere. The walking for one is much less pleasant. The approaches into cities like Burgos and León and even Pamplona have all been really nasty and ugly, full of car dealerships and suburbs and sixteen wheelers, and the Camino is always either right alongside a highway or on the highway itself, which is never fun. Plus finding accommodation in a big city has proved to be a challenge for me. The first time I encountered a full albergue was in Burgos. After having walked 40 kilometers into Burgos in the first place it was just so depressing to get turned away and think that I had to sling my backpack on once again and go out into the city to hunt for another place (fortunately I found an albergue with rooms on my second try).
León turned out to be even worse. The walking wasn't as bad or as long, and beforehand I had actually planned to have a fellow pilgrim reserve me a spot in the municipal albergue in León. Of course, when I got there the place was full, and turns out you can't even make reservations there. Right as I was leaving the second albergue in town called the front desk to let the lady know that they were full as well. I was pretty pissed to say the least, and made my way to the tourist information office to see if there were hostels in town that I could stay at. After trying three in a row and getting turned down three times, I was ready to walk out of town to the next village, but fortunately ended up running into my friend again at a cafe. She had had problems at the municipal as well, and just made the reservations at the second place in town. If only my cell phone hadn't gotten broken when it was raining in Roncesvalles this situation could have been avoided...
Anyway, like I was saying, León was a beautiful city. Streets with apartment balconies on both sides exploding with purple, red and pink flowers, one of the largest and most beautiful cathedrals I've ever seen, winding alleyways full of restaurants and ice cream shops and bars with tables spilling out into the streets, it had a fantastic atmosphere. Not really a city you go to to see the sites, but it would be a great place just to relax for a few days and go cafe hopping with a book and a journal. If I had to choose three places to return to (if I ever come back to Spain) it would be Pamplona, Viana and León. And, as has been the case in every big city, pretty much everyone who I've met on the Camino ended up convening all in the same spot, so it was great to see pilgrims who I'd met in the first few days of the trip and hadn't seen again for a while.
These next few days will be really interesting. Most people who do the Camino don't do the whole thing from St. Jean Pied de Port, but start later down the trail, usually in the last 100 kilometers so they can get their compostela (essentially a certificate of completion) from the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. People have been telling me horror stories about the last 100 kilometers, and I fear they may prove to be true. By 7:00 in the morning I was one of the last 10 pilgrims to leave the albergue, and I saw so many damn people just burning their way out of León this morning, really booking it down the Camino just so they wouldn't get locked out of a place to sleep for the night. I hope the atmosphere doesn't get too competitive. The best thing about the Camino so far has been the amazing communal atmosphere on the trail and the people you meet along the way, and I don't want to feel like I have to get up at four in the morning just to beat everyone to the next village, which would be the exact opposite philosophy I think you should treat it with. We'll see though. Staying optimistic for the time being anyway, which isn't hard when you're surrounded by so many warm, friendly people.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Camino day sixteen: the Meseta
Sorry for the gap in between updates. Ended up staying in a whole series of little one-street towns with no internet access, so I've been incommunicado for a little while. I am currently in Calzadilla de la Cueza, yet another small one-street town right smack dab in the middle of the Camino. A few days ago I finally got to the most infamous part of the Camino: The Meseta. The Meseta is a long stretch between the cities of Burgos and León, about a third of the Camino, and it has a bit of a reputation amongst pilgrims. It runs through Spain's breadbasket, which basically means it runs through Spain's Nebraska. The whole thing is incredibly flat, and stretches on for miles and miles with little to see in any direction aside for endless corn fields and enormous mountains of straw bales.
At times it has been incredibly beautiful, with the path taking me along deserted dirt roads through empty, rolling fields with nothing but the blue sky above my head and the faint outlines of mountains behind and in front of me, the world completely silent and eerily still. At times--like today--it has been boring as hell. The walking today reminded me of an old Looney Tunes cartoon, where Bugs Bunny is running away from Elmer Fudd and you see the same scenery repeating over and over again in the background. There was a particularly brutal 18 kilometer (11 mile) stretch where the Camino was literally a stock-straight dirt road with no civilization to be seen and no other pilgrims. Sometimes I feld like I was walking on a treadmill, and was constantly talking/singing/beatboxing to myself to keep myself from going crazy. I was bored and hot and dusty by the end of it, and stopped at the first albergue I found.
That's been the scenery for the past few days anyway. At first I had been toying with the idea of skipping the Meseta since it has such a bad reputation, but I'm really glad I didn't. It's been challenging at times (like today), but it's actually been some of my favorite walking of the whole trip. Plus, after over two weeks of walking 25-30 kilometers a day, I feel like my body and my mind have adjusted to constantly being on the move. Everything is easier, the kilometers go by quicker, and I'm having a fantastic time. When the end comes I'll be a little sad to say goodbye to it. Not too sad--by the time I reach the end I'll have walked over 500 miles--but a little for sure.
Anyway, other news that I couldn't fill you in on:
-In the past few days I've become really commited to the idea of doing this whole thing from start to finish and walking every kilometer. At first I think I approached the Camino more as a tourist. I figured I'd take my time, see what I wanted to see, walk as far as I felt like walking, and then if I didn't have time to finish it all by foot I could just take a bus and not feel guilty about it. Since then, though, I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I don't want to cheat or cut things short if I can help it and give the Camino its due respect. I recalculated things and figured I need to walk about 28 kilometers every day to finish on time, which I've been keeping to pretty well so far. So, excepting illness or injury, I've really decided I want to walk the whole way, kilometer by painstaking kilometer. When I started walking I was a tourist, and now I've made the transformation into a pilgrim. It has been a powerful experience.
-Ended up walking a really brutal 40 kilometer (24 mile) day to Burgos a few days ago. Initially I had been planning to stop about 10 km before Burgos and stay the night in a village there. Turns out, however, that there wasn't actually an albergue in said village, which I only figured out after checking in my guide book upon arriving and not seeing anything. In total I was walking for 11 hours, most of which was on some sort of paved surface (road/highway/sidewalk), which is much harsher on your legs, feet and knees than nice dirt roads, and all of which I did by myself, which gets lonely. I have since learned to read my guide book a little more carefully.
-Stayed at what is surely the most amazing albergue on the whole Camino two nights ago. The albergue, the Hospitalero de San Nicolás, was a squat, square stone and mortar building off the side of the Camino just before the town I had intended to stop for the day. I saw some of the Italian pilgrims I had befriended on my third day of walking, and they were staying there for the night, so I figured I'd stop just a little early and enjoy their company a little more. Plus the albergue was very highly recommended in the book. The place is run by an Italian cofraternity, and the interior of the building isamazing--like a 15'th century Spanish church. No electricity, no running water, when it got dark we lit the place with candles. The Camino de Santiago is hundreds of years old, and in previous years a lot of albergues like this one were built along the path to house and take care of the millions of pilgrims who would walk it in the Middle Ages. Most of them are ruins now, but this one was very well preserved. Before the communal dinner that night the volunteers who worked there performed a ceremony to welcome us. They all donned capes, and performed a foot-washing ceremony, which mirrors a scene from the Bible where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples in Galilee. We all sat in a half-circle, and had our right feet washed and kissed by the leader of the cofraternity in a bronze basin. The next morning when I left the leader blessed me in front of the enormous wooden door and wished me a safe journey. Unbelievable experience, and one I really value.
At times it has been incredibly beautiful, with the path taking me along deserted dirt roads through empty, rolling fields with nothing but the blue sky above my head and the faint outlines of mountains behind and in front of me, the world completely silent and eerily still. At times--like today--it has been boring as hell. The walking today reminded me of an old Looney Tunes cartoon, where Bugs Bunny is running away from Elmer Fudd and you see the same scenery repeating over and over again in the background. There was a particularly brutal 18 kilometer (11 mile) stretch where the Camino was literally a stock-straight dirt road with no civilization to be seen and no other pilgrims. Sometimes I feld like I was walking on a treadmill, and was constantly talking/singing/beatboxing to myself to keep myself from going crazy. I was bored and hot and dusty by the end of it, and stopped at the first albergue I found.
That's been the scenery for the past few days anyway. At first I had been toying with the idea of skipping the Meseta since it has such a bad reputation, but I'm really glad I didn't. It's been challenging at times (like today), but it's actually been some of my favorite walking of the whole trip. Plus, after over two weeks of walking 25-30 kilometers a day, I feel like my body and my mind have adjusted to constantly being on the move. Everything is easier, the kilometers go by quicker, and I'm having a fantastic time. When the end comes I'll be a little sad to say goodbye to it. Not too sad--by the time I reach the end I'll have walked over 500 miles--but a little for sure.
Anyway, other news that I couldn't fill you in on:
-In the past few days I've become really commited to the idea of doing this whole thing from start to finish and walking every kilometer. At first I think I approached the Camino more as a tourist. I figured I'd take my time, see what I wanted to see, walk as far as I felt like walking, and then if I didn't have time to finish it all by foot I could just take a bus and not feel guilty about it. Since then, though, I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I don't want to cheat or cut things short if I can help it and give the Camino its due respect. I recalculated things and figured I need to walk about 28 kilometers every day to finish on time, which I've been keeping to pretty well so far. So, excepting illness or injury, I've really decided I want to walk the whole way, kilometer by painstaking kilometer. When I started walking I was a tourist, and now I've made the transformation into a pilgrim. It has been a powerful experience.
-Ended up walking a really brutal 40 kilometer (24 mile) day to Burgos a few days ago. Initially I had been planning to stop about 10 km before Burgos and stay the night in a village there. Turns out, however, that there wasn't actually an albergue in said village, which I only figured out after checking in my guide book upon arriving and not seeing anything. In total I was walking for 11 hours, most of which was on some sort of paved surface (road/highway/sidewalk), which is much harsher on your legs, feet and knees than nice dirt roads, and all of which I did by myself, which gets lonely. I have since learned to read my guide book a little more carefully.
-Stayed at what is surely the most amazing albergue on the whole Camino two nights ago. The albergue, the Hospitalero de San Nicolás, was a squat, square stone and mortar building off the side of the Camino just before the town I had intended to stop for the day. I saw some of the Italian pilgrims I had befriended on my third day of walking, and they were staying there for the night, so I figured I'd stop just a little early and enjoy their company a little more. Plus the albergue was very highly recommended in the book. The place is run by an Italian cofraternity, and the interior of the building isamazing--like a 15'th century Spanish church. No electricity, no running water, when it got dark we lit the place with candles. The Camino de Santiago is hundreds of years old, and in previous years a lot of albergues like this one were built along the path to house and take care of the millions of pilgrims who would walk it in the Middle Ages. Most of them are ruins now, but this one was very well preserved. Before the communal dinner that night the volunteers who worked there performed a ceremony to welcome us. They all donned capes, and performed a foot-washing ceremony, which mirrors a scene from the Bible where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples in Galilee. We all sat in a half-circle, and had our right feet washed and kissed by the leader of the cofraternity in a bronze basin. The next morning when I left the leader blessed me in front of the enormous wooden door and wished me a safe journey. Unbelievable experience, and one I really value.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Camino day ten
Hello again from lovely, sunny, hot Grañon!
So, officially on the way of St. James for a week and a half now. Yesterday I spent the night in Azofra, a small little town in the Rioja region of Spain. Azofra was special because it was the 200 km mark from St. Jean Pied de Port! I have to say, the second 100 were a million times easier than the first 100. I think my body is much better suited to doing this than it was. Sure, my backpack has white lines of dried salt on it from all of the sweat off of my back, my calf muscles have grown so big that I can´t roll my pant legs up, I´m drinking on average 8 litres of water a day and still thirsty, I´m more tan than I´ve ever been in my entire life and my hair is starting to bleach from the sun, and I´ve graduated from 100 mg pills of Pericetimol to 600 mg horse suppository-looking pills of Ibuprofen, but it´s the psychological things that make the difference. I´m taking things at a much better pace I think--lots of little breaks during the day with a moderate walking pace--and I´ve lost the competitive attitude I was treating things with at the beginning. At first when I would see people behind me who were gaining on me I´d think, "Well, people are catching up, time to kick it up a notch so I can stay ahead," but nowadays it´s no big deal. I get passed all the time, but I figure I´ll just go as fast as I can manage, and everyone will get there when they get there.
Today was insanely hot. In Rioja (the region of Spain I´ve spent the past few days in) things actually cooled off a bit, which made walking through the vinyards that cover the region really pleasant, but as I make my way towards the Meseta things are starting to heat up again. I had images of Wilie Coyote chasing Roadrunner down dirt roads in my head from about 12:00 to 2:00 when the bastard Spanish sun was getting really hot, and there were heat waves shimmering and distorting the horizon all over the dry, yellow, dead fields of grain that the Camino passed through. I could see Grañon from about 2-3 kilometers away after I left Santo Domingo de la Calzada, and it was like a mirage in the distance: always on the horizon, never quite getting closer. One of the things I´ve come to notice about the villages here is that no matter how small they are, the buildings are always close together and a minimum of three stories so the inhabitants can get as much shade as possible in the afternoons. Very smart indeed.
Grañon, however, has proved to be quite nice. Tiny town of course, with only a few bars and cafes along the main road, but the albergue I´m staing in here is in fact the attic of the local cathedral, which is just cool as hell. There are sleeping mats all over the wooden floor, and a really classy, big-ceilinged living room right below it with old couches and a long wooden table. Also, it´s donation based, which means it´s about half as expensive and 10 times cooler than a lot of the places I´ve stayed in so far. Not the first church I´ve stayed in either, I stayed in a similar place in Viana.
Some other little tidbits:
-Been hiking with a couple Austrian girls for the past couple days, Leona and Theresa. Theresa just graduated high school, and is spending the next year traveling. First she´s doing the Camino, next spending seven weeks in the US visiting her old host family in Michigan and traveling the east coast, then heading down to Peru to do some volunteer work for eight months. Leona, her friend, is still in school. They´ve been pretty good travel buddies. I think I lost them today unfortunately (they got up pretty early and walked farther than I did today), but they were good walking company, and we spoke 100% German the whole time, which was wonderful. I even got to learn a few little bits of their dialect--nice to learn a different flavor of German for a change.
-A couple days ago a guy came up to me around 7:30 as I was making my way down the trail and introduced himself, asking if I was a native English speaker. I said I was, and he asked if he could walk down the trail with me to the next town. He was 48, formerly worked as a cook, but since the economic troubles in Spain has been without a job. Every morning for weeks now he´s walked this stretch of the Camino looking for people to practice his English with. I figured why not--he was a super friendly guy, actually spoke really great English (a rarity in this country, believe me), just with a super thick Spanish accent. We talked about a lot of things: the Basque country and the complicated politics that goes into that, the Catalán region of Spain, his time in England working as a cook, where I´m from in the USA, his trips to New York City and Washington D.C., it was actually a good time. He bought me a coffee when we reached the next town as a way of saying thanks, and caught a bus back home afterwards. Really nice little interaction actually, I enjoyed it a lot. I´ve had relatively little contact with the actual culture of Spain thus far for lack of speaking the language and always being with other pilgrims, so it was really cool to talk to him and get to know him a little.
So, officially on the way of St. James for a week and a half now. Yesterday I spent the night in Azofra, a small little town in the Rioja region of Spain. Azofra was special because it was the 200 km mark from St. Jean Pied de Port! I have to say, the second 100 were a million times easier than the first 100. I think my body is much better suited to doing this than it was. Sure, my backpack has white lines of dried salt on it from all of the sweat off of my back, my calf muscles have grown so big that I can´t roll my pant legs up, I´m drinking on average 8 litres of water a day and still thirsty, I´m more tan than I´ve ever been in my entire life and my hair is starting to bleach from the sun, and I´ve graduated from 100 mg pills of Pericetimol to 600 mg horse suppository-looking pills of Ibuprofen, but it´s the psychological things that make the difference. I´m taking things at a much better pace I think--lots of little breaks during the day with a moderate walking pace--and I´ve lost the competitive attitude I was treating things with at the beginning. At first when I would see people behind me who were gaining on me I´d think, "Well, people are catching up, time to kick it up a notch so I can stay ahead," but nowadays it´s no big deal. I get passed all the time, but I figure I´ll just go as fast as I can manage, and everyone will get there when they get there.
Today was insanely hot. In Rioja (the region of Spain I´ve spent the past few days in) things actually cooled off a bit, which made walking through the vinyards that cover the region really pleasant, but as I make my way towards the Meseta things are starting to heat up again. I had images of Wilie Coyote chasing Roadrunner down dirt roads in my head from about 12:00 to 2:00 when the bastard Spanish sun was getting really hot, and there were heat waves shimmering and distorting the horizon all over the dry, yellow, dead fields of grain that the Camino passed through. I could see Grañon from about 2-3 kilometers away after I left Santo Domingo de la Calzada, and it was like a mirage in the distance: always on the horizon, never quite getting closer. One of the things I´ve come to notice about the villages here is that no matter how small they are, the buildings are always close together and a minimum of three stories so the inhabitants can get as much shade as possible in the afternoons. Very smart indeed.
Grañon, however, has proved to be quite nice. Tiny town of course, with only a few bars and cafes along the main road, but the albergue I´m staing in here is in fact the attic of the local cathedral, which is just cool as hell. There are sleeping mats all over the wooden floor, and a really classy, big-ceilinged living room right below it with old couches and a long wooden table. Also, it´s donation based, which means it´s about half as expensive and 10 times cooler than a lot of the places I´ve stayed in so far. Not the first church I´ve stayed in either, I stayed in a similar place in Viana.
Some other little tidbits:
-Been hiking with a couple Austrian girls for the past couple days, Leona and Theresa. Theresa just graduated high school, and is spending the next year traveling. First she´s doing the Camino, next spending seven weeks in the US visiting her old host family in Michigan and traveling the east coast, then heading down to Peru to do some volunteer work for eight months. Leona, her friend, is still in school. They´ve been pretty good travel buddies. I think I lost them today unfortunately (they got up pretty early and walked farther than I did today), but they were good walking company, and we spoke 100% German the whole time, which was wonderful. I even got to learn a few little bits of their dialect--nice to learn a different flavor of German for a change.
-A couple days ago a guy came up to me around 7:30 as I was making my way down the trail and introduced himself, asking if I was a native English speaker. I said I was, and he asked if he could walk down the trail with me to the next town. He was 48, formerly worked as a cook, but since the economic troubles in Spain has been without a job. Every morning for weeks now he´s walked this stretch of the Camino looking for people to practice his English with. I figured why not--he was a super friendly guy, actually spoke really great English (a rarity in this country, believe me), just with a super thick Spanish accent. We talked about a lot of things: the Basque country and the complicated politics that goes into that, the Catalán region of Spain, his time in England working as a cook, where I´m from in the USA, his trips to New York City and Washington D.C., it was actually a good time. He bought me a coffee when we reached the next town as a way of saying thanks, and caught a bus back home afterwards. Really nice little interaction actually, I enjoyed it a lot. I´ve had relatively little contact with the actual culture of Spain thus far for lack of speaking the language and always being with other pilgrims, so it was really cool to talk to him and get to know him a little.
Monday, August 1, 2011
First week on the Camino
And all of a sudden I´ve been at this for a whole week! Seven days and seven stages of the Camino come and gone, crazy thought. It´s really interesting how quickly you get used to some things. A few days ago getting up so early, walking 15 miles and going from place to place day after day was very challenging, but now after so much time on the road my body has gotten used to things more or less. Hitting the 100 kilometer mark had a big psychological effect I think, once I got over that milestone everything got a lot easier. The pain has (inevitably) spread to my right knee, but it´s sort of a baseline thing nowadays--something that´s always there and just a little annoying instead of something that has me hobbled on the side of the trail grabbing my legs in pain as pilgrims 20 years my senior pass me by. Stairs are still my greatest enemy, and I absolutely loathe the sight of them, but the constant walking on the trails isn´t half as bad as it used to be. The feet are ok: always tight and a little tender, but the pain isn´t too bad, nor are the blisters really giving me a lot of trouble.
Today´s stop is Viana, an incredible little town in between Torres del Rio and Logroño. My goal today was initially Logroño, 29 kilometers away from Los Arcos, where I had spent the previous night. A lot of the fellow pilgrims I´m walking with were headed there, and after having looked at and consulted my guidebook a bunch I figured Logroño would make the most sense in terms of distributing out the distances between cities. But I got to Viana this afternoon around 1:00 and was just blown away, which got me to thinking that I should just stay here. One thing about the Camino is that it takes you through some kind of crappy backwater places sometimes, and on some days the towns have been a little underwhelming. After a little thought, I figured I would just stay here and enjoy myself since the energy of this place spoke so much to me. I´m behind schedule as it is in terms of finishing on time, and will have to take a bus at some point to make up for lost kilometers (probably through the Meseta section, which is a little barren and boring as I understand), so I figure I´ll just let myself move along as I please and see what I want to see. Every travel writer I´ve ever read always complains about how the travel schedules they have to keep really get in the way of them having fun, which was kind of the case with me when I was in the UK with those absolutely insane train days, so I´ll try to avoid that as best I can.
I´ve really been speaking a lot of German in the past few days, which is just awesome. I stayed at an Austrian-run hostel last night, which was of course full of German speakers, so I got to meet and greet a lot of the Germans and Austrians that are on the path with me. I spent the first couple hours this morning walking and chatting with a couple of the Austrian students I met a couple days ago, which was a lot of fun. I´ve always liked the accent (very different from the High German I was speaking and hearing up in Hamburg), and have noticed a big improvement in my fluency from having spoken the language so much. It´s a globalized world nowadays I guess--you come to Spain and end up speaking German the whole day. I´m not complaining anyway; it´s always a blessing meeting German speakers who actually want to speak German with you.
The past few stops have been: Estella, Los Arcos, and Viana today. Estella was ok--ít´s reedeming quality was the albergue I stayed in, which was really nice after an INCREDIBLY hot and dusty day of walking, plus a lot of the pilgrims I´ve befriended along the way ended up staying there too. Los Arcos was nice. It was also a hot and dusty day to get there, but not so bad as Puente la Reina to Estella, and the pilgrim´s menu I found there was really excellent, and that was also where the Austrian albergue was.
Tomorrow´s stop will ideally be Ventosa, but I may just end up stopping in Navarrete, about 7 kilometers closer. We´ll see I guess! Until then.
Today´s stop is Viana, an incredible little town in between Torres del Rio and Logroño. My goal today was initially Logroño, 29 kilometers away from Los Arcos, where I had spent the previous night. A lot of the fellow pilgrims I´m walking with were headed there, and after having looked at and consulted my guidebook a bunch I figured Logroño would make the most sense in terms of distributing out the distances between cities. But I got to Viana this afternoon around 1:00 and was just blown away, which got me to thinking that I should just stay here. One thing about the Camino is that it takes you through some kind of crappy backwater places sometimes, and on some days the towns have been a little underwhelming. After a little thought, I figured I would just stay here and enjoy myself since the energy of this place spoke so much to me. I´m behind schedule as it is in terms of finishing on time, and will have to take a bus at some point to make up for lost kilometers (probably through the Meseta section, which is a little barren and boring as I understand), so I figure I´ll just let myself move along as I please and see what I want to see. Every travel writer I´ve ever read always complains about how the travel schedules they have to keep really get in the way of them having fun, which was kind of the case with me when I was in the UK with those absolutely insane train days, so I´ll try to avoid that as best I can.
I´ve really been speaking a lot of German in the past few days, which is just awesome. I stayed at an Austrian-run hostel last night, which was of course full of German speakers, so I got to meet and greet a lot of the Germans and Austrians that are on the path with me. I spent the first couple hours this morning walking and chatting with a couple of the Austrian students I met a couple days ago, which was a lot of fun. I´ve always liked the accent (very different from the High German I was speaking and hearing up in Hamburg), and have noticed a big improvement in my fluency from having spoken the language so much. It´s a globalized world nowadays I guess--you come to Spain and end up speaking German the whole day. I´m not complaining anyway; it´s always a blessing meeting German speakers who actually want to speak German with you.
The past few stops have been: Estella, Los Arcos, and Viana today. Estella was ok--ít´s reedeming quality was the albergue I stayed in, which was really nice after an INCREDIBLY hot and dusty day of walking, plus a lot of the pilgrims I´ve befriended along the way ended up staying there too. Los Arcos was nice. It was also a hot and dusty day to get there, but not so bad as Puente la Reina to Estella, and the pilgrim´s menu I found there was really excellent, and that was also where the Austrian albergue was.
Tomorrow´s stop will ideally be Ventosa, but I may just end up stopping in Navarrete, about 7 kilometers closer. We´ll see I guess! Until then.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Camino adventures, day four
We´re at the end of yet another day of hiking the camino. It´s starting to get pretty serious now. I read somewhere that most pilgrim´s first few days on the camino are a "physical experience," and I would definitely have to agree. The knee is pretty much ok for the most part--it still hurts, but only when I´m not moving or when I´ve been going downhill for too long. I don´t know if that´s an indication that it´s getting better or that I´m just getting desensitized to the pain somehow. Discovered my first blister a day or two ago, and have the second one coming right up in the same spot on my other foot, but aside for the typical aches and pains everything else is in order.
It has gotten hot as hell too. Day one was just rain, and day two was partly rainy, but got a lot nicer around the afternoon. Yesterday it started heating up a little bit, and today the heat was really on. I must have drunk like three gallons of water, and every time I got to a fountain I chugged at least a litre (sometimes almost two) before refilling my bottles, but I still couldn´t get enough water in. I had that really uncomfortable, unpleasant puffy-hand sensation you get when you´re dehydrated, even though I almost felt like throwing up at a few points from drinking so much water. Also, I´m pretty sure I got sunburned THROUGH my shirt sleeves today, which I didn´t know was physically possible. Spain in the summer is no joke, and I´m in the northern part.
But it´s still been a really great time! Even with all of the physical troubles I´m experiencing. I´ve been discovering the wonderful, wonderful thing that is the pilgrim´s menu at a lot of restaurants along the camino do for dinner. Lots of places do a special deal where you pay between 9-15 euros and get a really awesome meal. Three courses, desert, wine, and the company you sit with at the table is always fellow pilgrims, so you get a ton of really nice dinner conversation out of it too. The multiple course thing is also important in that I get really hungry after walking 15+ miles, so I´ve been taking advantage of the offer wherever I can find it.
The towns I´ve stayed at for the past few days have been: Zubiri, Pamplona, and today it´s Puente la Reina for those keeping track at home. Zubiri didn´t have much going on, but it had a really nice refugio where I spent the night. Pamplona was the first major city along the camino, which was very cool considering it´s been all farms and tiny towns with 200 people so far. I also ended up staying at a refugio in Pamplona staffed and frequented pretty much 100% by Germans (the Camino is very popular and well know in Germany), so I was able to speak German the whole time I was there, which was really nice considering how long it´s been since I´ve really used the language.
Puente la Reina is on the smaller side, but one thing that IS going on this week, and something I only found out about 30 minutes before it started, is a running of the bulls!! The biggest and most famous is in Pamplona actually, but I missed it by about a week and a half, so it was awesome to get here and have the opportunity to check out one for myself. The atmosphere at the place was just electric, and I got quite the shock when the bulls came running down into the arena. The main street was blockaded off with gates to "direct traffic," as it were, and all of the shop fronts had metal grates in front of them to keep the bulls from destroying the storefronts. The town square had a spectator ring set up around it, with 4-5 inches of dirt thrown over the cobblestones in the middle. It wasn´t a bullfight with a matador--basically just a bunch of the local 20-somethings who were feeling up to the challenge. Pretty much anyone could jump in or out of the arena to try their luck. As they were dodging the bulls a lot of the guys were attempting to put big metal rings about 3-4 inches across over the bulls´ horns, and every time they managed to do it the crowd exploded with applause. The whole ordeal lasted aboiut two hours.
Still haven´t picked tomorrow´s destination yet, but I´m definitely getting an early start. I´ve been heading out around 7:30-ish for the past few days, but the earlier you get out the door the less time you have to spend walking in the heat of the afternoon, so I´m gonna try to get up and go as soon as possible tomorrow morning.
It has gotten hot as hell too. Day one was just rain, and day two was partly rainy, but got a lot nicer around the afternoon. Yesterday it started heating up a little bit, and today the heat was really on. I must have drunk like three gallons of water, and every time I got to a fountain I chugged at least a litre (sometimes almost two) before refilling my bottles, but I still couldn´t get enough water in. I had that really uncomfortable, unpleasant puffy-hand sensation you get when you´re dehydrated, even though I almost felt like throwing up at a few points from drinking so much water. Also, I´m pretty sure I got sunburned THROUGH my shirt sleeves today, which I didn´t know was physically possible. Spain in the summer is no joke, and I´m in the northern part.
But it´s still been a really great time! Even with all of the physical troubles I´m experiencing. I´ve been discovering the wonderful, wonderful thing that is the pilgrim´s menu at a lot of restaurants along the camino do for dinner. Lots of places do a special deal where you pay between 9-15 euros and get a really awesome meal. Three courses, desert, wine, and the company you sit with at the table is always fellow pilgrims, so you get a ton of really nice dinner conversation out of it too. The multiple course thing is also important in that I get really hungry after walking 15+ miles, so I´ve been taking advantage of the offer wherever I can find it.
The towns I´ve stayed at for the past few days have been: Zubiri, Pamplona, and today it´s Puente la Reina for those keeping track at home. Zubiri didn´t have much going on, but it had a really nice refugio where I spent the night. Pamplona was the first major city along the camino, which was very cool considering it´s been all farms and tiny towns with 200 people so far. I also ended up staying at a refugio in Pamplona staffed and frequented pretty much 100% by Germans (the Camino is very popular and well know in Germany), so I was able to speak German the whole time I was there, which was really nice considering how long it´s been since I´ve really used the language.
Puente la Reina is on the smaller side, but one thing that IS going on this week, and something I only found out about 30 minutes before it started, is a running of the bulls!! The biggest and most famous is in Pamplona actually, but I missed it by about a week and a half, so it was awesome to get here and have the opportunity to check out one for myself. The atmosphere at the place was just electric, and I got quite the shock when the bulls came running down into the arena. The main street was blockaded off with gates to "direct traffic," as it were, and all of the shop fronts had metal grates in front of them to keep the bulls from destroying the storefronts. The town square had a spectator ring set up around it, with 4-5 inches of dirt thrown over the cobblestones in the middle. It wasn´t a bullfight with a matador--basically just a bunch of the local 20-somethings who were feeling up to the challenge. Pretty much anyone could jump in or out of the arena to try their luck. As they were dodging the bulls a lot of the guys were attempting to put big metal rings about 3-4 inches across over the bulls´ horns, and every time they managed to do it the crowd exploded with applause. The whole ordeal lasted aboiut two hours.
Still haven´t picked tomorrow´s destination yet, but I´m definitely getting an early start. I´ve been heading out around 7:30-ish for the past few days, but the earlier you get out the door the less time you have to spend walking in the heat of the afternoon, so I´m gonna try to get up and go as soon as possible tomorrow morning.
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