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oh yes, down but not out, we have recovered and are well on our way to Santiago de Compostela, thanks to the sisters of the Monasterio Benedictinas of Leon and their kindness, help and affection. The night before we left Leon, we gave the sisters a little concert. Ella played a number of fiddle tunes with her father on guitar, then I sang a jazz standard for them! Some of the sisters laughed when I changed the words to suit the monasterio. Ella remarked the next day as we made our way out of Leon, that when she looked around at the sisters, not a single sister seemed unhappy with their lives. In fact, she remarked, they were very girlish in their excitement and enthusiasm for our music, and also, that Ella was hugged and kissed so much it almost took her breath away.
The next morning after breakfast, one of the nuns who helped Ella, Sister Ernistina, came to Ella with a gift of a beautiful Russian icon and a beautiful handmade card, as well as kisses and a hug and made her promise to come back. Knowing E. I believe she will.
E and I made our way to Astorga by bus while F hiked 52 kms… he really wanted to be moving again and we felt E needed another day´s eating and resting. He rolled in at 7 pm extremely happy and tired. Next day we headed out to Rabanal, a gentle but beautiful 19 km hike, where we stayed with the English Confraternity of Saint James, which coincidentally (?) is housed in the Benedictine Monastery. Do you think there´s a message in this for us Abbot Peter!!??
The alberge in Rabanal has a gorgeous 1/2 acre garden which we sat in with our cups of tea with lemons and biscuits which we were greeted with as we arrived hot and tired. We spent a beautiful afternoon and evening with a fascinating group of people from all around the world. One group of five, all met within a few hours of Saint Jean Pied de Porte and have travelled together ever since… a Dane, two Canadians (one is a boy from our neighbourhood in Metchosin!!), a Korean, a Swiss and a Portugese. They travel at a very mellow speed and are thoroughly enjoying themselves as they make their way to Santiago.
Speaking of enjoying oneself, we saw a sign on a wine botega today that translates, “bread and wine, the way of the camino”… to this I say, ole! The reward at the end of a hot, arduous day such as yesterday´s and today´s, is the glass of something wonderful, some olives and some bread, and of course, some good company.
After Rabanal we hiked up through beautiful hills that remind us of the Scottish Borders with their heathers and wildflowers, to the second biggest peak of our journey, the Iron Cross. The Cruz de Ferro, is an ancient hilltop where ancient Celts deposited small stones enroute through the mountains. We´ve seen this sort of hilltop in Scotland. In the 12th centure, an iron cross was erected there and people still continue to deposit stones on the hilltop. According to tradition, we brought stones from our home in Canada and placed them atop the hill next to the cross that is covered in private messages, photographs, prayers, old shoes, all sorts of relics.
After the cross, we made our way across the mountains, a beautiful but very tough hike of 25 kms (though I suspect more like 30 kms with the ups and downs), especially the descent into the valley. The downhill trail was washed out rock and very difficult to walk down. In my opinion, this was our toughest day physically, even tougher than the Pyrenees. Others seem to agree.
Normally we quit hiking by 12:30 or 1 pm, but yesterday we didn´t make it into the valley until 3. F. went ahead, and clever him, got us a fabulous hotel room that overlooked the Roman bridge that fords the little river in Molinaseco (sp? sorry but I´m writing as usual in less than ideal circumstances). We seem to enjoy three or four days of alberges, mostly for their sociability, but need some quiet and privacy after that… and as our friend Russell says, “you get the camino you deserve” (he boycotted alberges two weeks ago!) and to whom we respond, “or what your line of credit can handle”!
Good food, a good room, and good company - the fun pilgrims arrived after us and we met them on the riverfront for drinks that evening - and we were up this morning to walk into Ponferreda to see the Templar castle. Magnificent, but sadly closed. We had a morning coffee and sweet and the fun pilgrims arrived. Nice.
F and E and I made our way out of town - interesting but also long, hot and traffic filled, and back into the countryside where we hiked through vineyards and huge market gardens. Today is our second day of real heat, we have been so lucky, and still we had the camino breeze. Finally, after a few hours with shade breaks, we arrived in cacabellos where we are staying in a church alberge. It´s a curious alberge. The church has taken its outer wall and built little rooms all around the inner side of the wall, each with two beds in them. We have a three bed room…. great! As E says, we will never take a door, a room and a bed for granted again. Not a bad lesson when all is said and done.
well, that´s me for now,
thanks again all of you for your messages, prayers, donativos to the NICU etc…
Suzanna del camino
ole
what a beautiful, humaine city Leon is… even at our most miserable, the kindness of the Leonese, the physical beauty of its plazas, buildings, cathedral, parks, sustained us. Our girl, after a full week of feeling absolutely dreadful, is finally out and about and feeling like her old self. We will leave by bus for Astorga tomorrow, then hit the camino on Wednesday. We just want to fatten her up a little bit more, so we are spending our days strolling around Leon, feeding her pasta, ice cream, croissants, fresh fruit… anything she wants. Sadly, she is totally off her favourite Spanish beverage, Cola Coa, a sickly sweet Nestles Quick-like drink which she devoured by the bucketful before she got so sick! Also, she has sworn off flan and rice pudding for life, just as I will never look at tuna for as long as I live!!! These are the last things we ate before getting violently ill!
we are spending a few days being tourists in Leon as initially planned and we are “pretending” the last week didn´t really happen… more like a bad dream! yesterday we went to San Isidore Basilica and went through the Puerte del Perdon, thus having all sins forgiven (e.g. having unkind thoughts about other pilgrims might be at the top of the list!!!), then admired the amazing 800 year old frescos in the Pantheon de los Reyes which are so vibrant in colour and depiction of the seasons as well as biblical stories… we made yet another stop into the cathedral to admire the amazing stained glass windows which are, in my opinion, one of the greatest treasures of humanity.
later, a stroll down to the river, where the madness of the Fiesta de San Juan is partially taking place… there are all kinds of kids´ rides and activities that look totally fun but would certainly not be allowed in North America for safety reasons!! One game in particular, water soccer, involves a huge inflated field with water sprayed over it making it really slippery, and which the teams get into and fight it out for goals…. a total blast for the kids….coincidentally (?) I have seen more broken arms in this city than any other place I´ve ever been…. hmmmmm
last night was a big bull fight event with 3 toros from Granada in the ring…. I was seriously tempted to go…. there is something weirdly alluring about the bull fight…. anyway, I read in the paper this morning that two of the toreadors were injured, not too seriously…. I don´t expect the toros fared all that well… there has been anti-toro protests in Barcelona and a few other places this past week, but I think most Spaniards are pro-bull fighting as it is really ingrained in the culture… everything from imagery in advertising and merchandising (e.g. mens´shops have toreodors photos or photos of toros in the window displays), to dance to fashion. Some flamenco moves are stylized toreodor moves… especially when dancing with a shawl.
Although this is the north, flamenco has influenced local culture as well (flamenco comes from Andalusia in the south). Any dial through the radio bands results in hearing music that is heavily influenced melodically as well as rhythmically by flamenco. Ditto television commercials.
Last night we sat out in our favourite plaza and had a glass of wine and watched the paseda (paseo?) of the locals… always fascinating. Our conclusion is that the Spanish are satisfied with life. It is rare to see a Spaniard walking alone and looking totally dejected. The ingredients to contentedness, as far as we can see as casual observers, are family, friendship, taking lots and lots of time to enjoy food, wine (it´s extremely rare to see anyone drunk), walking together every evening, and generally enjoying living in an environment designed for all of the above.
Our favourite square must have had 2000 people crammed into it last night, sitting at tables, strolling, standing with drinks in hand, all in extreme close proximity to one another but not minding it… oh yes, and once in a while, a car or a truck thrown into the mix… it just drives very slowly through the throng and noone seems to be much bothered… even the fathers with their baby carriages!
There are a half dozen men of African origin who sell bootleg cds and fake D & G sunglasses etc. in the square. They spread their goods out on little cloths that are strung with cords which can be pulled tight instantly in case the police bust them. Last night, in the midst of the craziness of the evening paseo, all of a sudden five of these vendors zipped up their cloths in a split second and ran lickety split down an alleyway… one of them was busted by the cops but he made an escape and the crowd of Spanish people all clapped their hands… I guess the police aren´t the preferred characters in this particular charade. Perhaps this is a leftover from Franco days and the once terrifying Guardia Civil. The thing that amazes us is how few police seem present and those who are, are relaxed and seemingly easy going.
Well must go now and see what beautiful Leon has in store for us today. Yesterday there were giant puppet parades, a wandering troupe of mad men and women all dressed in orange and white who marched around the city singing and playing brass instruments and stopping outside bars for drinks… apparently they were advertising the bull fight…. Fred saw them on Friday and Saturday night doing the same thing… same people same outfits… needless to say, they were looking a little worse for wear yesterday… well almost all…. one very handsome young Spaniard blew me a kiss and winked as he marched by…. to that I have only one thing to say…..
ole!!!
until Astorga or ? yours from the camino
Suzanne
p.s. again, thanks for the lovely messages of encouragement and donations to the NICU etc…. it reminds us of what why we are here especially when things are tough
Suzanna del camino
we are still in Leon waiting for E´s body to recover from the flu. Fortunately, there is no time pressure from the sisters and we can stay as long as it takes. After that, we decide what is the best route to take on our final third of the journey to Santiago.
the good thing about spending this much time in such a lovely city, is that one really gets to see how the urban Spanish live. I love the way the Spanish use their cities. Unlike our home city, which rolls up its sidewalks at 6 p.m. - even on weekends - and whose shop proprietors seem to think that the public spaces belong only to them, the Spaniards use their streets, sidewalks, squares, parks, twenty-four hours a day.
One of my favourite sights is when I go for a walk at 8 p.m. and all the tiny bars and restaurants are reopening for the evening and are slapping tables and chairs anywhere they can on the sidewalks or even the roadsides. There is a feeling of celebration and anticipation as the children run in and out of the bars (where the whole family is welcome), while father has a drink of wine and a chat with the bartender or some friends. Bars are social institutions and it is clear that each bar has a loyal clientel. There is a tiny bar down the street from us which sells a glass of wine, with a slice of jamon (salt ham) thrown in, for one Euro. From what I can tell, it sells little else than wine, some bread, a few sweets in boxes and maybe some water, juice or fanta limon.
Window shopping in the old part of Leon is a lesson in Spanish life unto itself. Shops are tiny, have minimal inventory and what they carry, is generally speaking, of medium to low quality. The shops open at 10 a.m. and close at 2 p.m., then open again at 5 until 8 p.m. I don´t think anyone makes much more than a living from these shops, and some I suspect don´t make any money at all other than bare expenses.
There is a big modern department store, Cortes Ingles, which offers higher end goods, but I have yet to see the “big” names that dog most main streets of the world - Gap, Dolce and Gabbana (sp?), Louis Vuitton (sp? you can tell I don´t shop there!)… and this is really nice. I like that the Spanish have kept their sense of identity in style of clothes, what they eat, and of course, though this is difficult for the traveller, their language. It´s very rare to find anyone who speaks English. To this end, F has actually become quite good at communicating in Spanish. Yesterday, we took Ella to the doctor and F. had to speak entirely in Spanish with him. The doctor checked her out and said she is fine, but she needed to begin eating etc… all in Spanish.
My Spanish is terrible. I think it´s because I´ve been speaking so much French on this journey, as well as listening to French radio, that the language part of my brain is full. This happened when I was in italy and tried to speak a bit of Danish and found that I couldn´t remember a word, and more surprisingly, when I tried to sing, I couldn´t make a peep! Much later, I found out that the part of the brain that deals with language, is the part that music is processed in. I was trying so hard to communicate in Italian that my brain was full!
This morning as I was out for a walk, I ran into a Canadian couple from Winnipeg. The man was pulling an aluminum cart which was decorated with a shell motif. As they were lost, I offered to help them and got talking with them. They are walking the camino in 27 days and have been hiking 40 kms a day. The wife can´t carry anything, thus the cart. I asked the man how it was and he said it was just great. They were cheerful and energized.
Their daughter is two days behind them, walking with a friend. The couple told me that the daughter´s friend was depressed, crying every day and quite traumatised by the camino. Apparently she packed 12 pair underwear, shirts etc. etc. and a hairdryer! On the first day of the camino, she lay down on the road and told everyone she wasn´t going on and that she thought it was going to be a vacation! Oh dear.
Anyway, the Canadian couple walked on ahead and let the two girls make it in their own time. When I asked the couple how old the girls are, they said 28!!!! I expected them to say 18. They said their daughter is now carrying two backpacks.
Just another day on the camino.
thanks again for all the nice emails etc…. I´ll keep you posted
yours from the Hospitaleria Monastica (the Benedictine Monastery)
Suzanne
one of our best days through the meseda!
E and F not great but not a disaster either… thanks for all the lovely messages. I just ran into our pilgrim friends Russell and Marie and they said they´ve talked to tons of pilgrims who have had this flu…. so it goes. More later…
our friend Liz T. in Edinburgh is reciting this each morning for us, and someone we don´t know (yet!), Geoff, in Colwood, B.C. is reciting this in another time zone for us… if anyone else wants to join in… fill your boots… we need all the help we can get!
I think it´s nice because it mentions pilgrimage, swallows (who have been with us this entire journey, along with great, clacking storks!) and walking….
p.s. the girl had a rough morning and one of the nuns, Sister Ernestina, who is a doctor, had a look at her, gave her some gentle meds and put her hands on her (which E. swears was the end of her fever!)… she is now drinking fluids, munching a rice cracker and has her nose in a book which I found at a local bookshop! Another of the nuns told us that last week, a German man had a heart attack in the convent, he had been walking too hard, and that he is in the local hospital… so I guess there is some truth in Leon being the place which determines if and how one might go on. We three are all resolute that we will continue once everyone is hail and hearty and are looking at this unfortunate turn of events as an opportunity for deep rest as well as a chance to get to know the wonderful Spanish nuns. The fact that Leon is gorgeous, friendly and lovely to walk about helps immensely.
adios
here is Psalm 84
how lovely is your dwelling place Lord Almighty
my soul yearns, ever faints
for the courts of the Lord
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the loving God.
Even the sparrow has found a home
and the swallow a nest for herself
where she may have her young
a place near your altar.
Lord Almighty, my king and my God
Blessed are those who dwell in our house
they are ever praising you.
Blessed are those whose strength is in you
whose hearts are set on pilgimage.
As they pas through the Valley of Baka
they make it a place of springs
the autumn rains also cover its pools.
They go from strength to strength
til each appear before God in Zion.
Hear my prayer O Lord God Almighty
listen to me God of Jacob
look with favour on your annointed one.
Better is one day in your courts
than a thousand elsewhere.
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of the wicked
for the Lord God is a sun and shield
the Lord God bestows favour and honour
no good does He withhold rom those whose walk is blameless
Lord Almighty, blessed are those who trust in you.
okay, I have to apologize to the little hotel in the one horse town on the meseda in which I thought I was food poisoned… it was the stomach flu, and a particularly nasty variety. How do I know this?? Poor Ella has just spent the last 24 hours in Leon, where we now are, learning just how efficient the human body is at expelling horrendous viruses.
After one day feeling I wanted to die, then another thinking I might live but wasn´t sure I wanted to, I recovered enough to do an easy 18kms across the meseda, albeit too tired to used my sticks and I walked alone so I didn´t have to talk to anybody. We found a room in a hotel and had a good rest, in the morning we prepared to start the next leg to Leon when poor Ella started feeling off. Minutes later she was sick as sick could be. I felt so awful for her as I knew then that it was the flu and I knew what she was in for.
As we were in a small town (another meseda village I have blanked from my memory for obvious reasons), with only a farmacia, we decided to take a taxi into Leon where we could stay at the Benedictine Monastery and be close to doctors and hospitals if needed. It´s one thing to take a chance on flus, dehydration etc. etc. as an adult, but we were not prepared to tough it out with Ella. I want to be close to help if I need it when she is sick.
We arrived in Leon yesterday morning and took a private room in the Monastery which is in the old quarter of the city. Expecting a simple, clean, modest and quiet room, we were totally shocked to be shown to one of the most beautiful, modern, clean rooms I think I´ve ever seen… much nicer than any 5 star hotel…the monastery has obviously been totally refurbished in the past year or so, and as with other modern Leonise architecture, pays respect to the historical but is very contemporary and classic.
Even poor Ella let out a gasp of delight (she is such a trooper) as I drew the gorgeous white sheers and we looked out onto a lovely old square with a huge beech (?) tree and a fountain in the middle and surrounded by beautifully restored buildings. She took one look at the sleek marble and glass bathroom and said “this is my kind of place” before she fell into the beautifully made up bed which is where she has been ever since… with the exception of…. oh well, you know…. The good thing is that she´s over the worst of it now…. poor Fred, he looks as if he´s staring at an oncoming train…. cross your fingers it misses him.
This seems to be the stage in the journey when a lot of things happen to people. The nun at the monastery told Fred that if they opened a hospital for pilgrims, that it would be full all the time. Yesterday, I met a young man from Germany who I mistook for a local person with a severe disability. This young guy was walking in such a tortured manner, it looked like he had been born with something quite wrong with his legs. He told me that he had been in hospital in Burgos and had blown his knees somewhere around Pamplona and that he might have to quit the camino. I told him that it might be a good idea as it would be terrible to have a lifelong injury from this experience.
I have a feeling that he was one of those driven ones who rise at 5 am and blast 30kms a day without rest… most german pilgrims we have met have 5 weeks annual holidays and I guess they want to do the entire camino in this time. While it is technically doable, I think it´s pretty hard on the body and also, I think it leaves little time for actually seeing anything.
The other thing that tells me that Leon is a “sorting” place is that at the Basilica of San Isidoro there is a portico which sick pilgrims may enter (?) and they will be absolved of all sins as if they had made it to Santiago… I find that fascinating… needless to say, this morning as E and F are back at our room, I entered the Basilica through the door and sat in the beautiful silence of San Isidoro. Beautiful Leonese light shone through the stained glass windows, and for the first time in days, I felt glad to be on the Camino de Santiago de Compostela once again… now it´s time to get the others well so we can make our last third of the way.
Thanks for all the encouraging messages. We are okay, not great but not desperate and in the scheme of things we are so very lucky to have such a beautiful space such as the monastery in which to rest our tired bodies and our lively spirits.
Suzanne
Comment: We’re wishing you well on your incredible journey. Love from Jan & George Robertson
comment: hi suzanne.. good luck to you all on the journey. God bless. dave&yvonne
Comment: Suzanne - wishing you, Fred and Ella good luck & safe passage as you set out on your trek to Santiago. Congratulations on your commitment to the NICU.
Comment: It’s Marci,I used to work with Fred at Tannoy in Kitchener. I think it’s amazing what you all are doing!
Comment: May God keep you in the palm of His or Her hand. Travel well and deeply. Love, Star and Russ
Comment: All the best on your journey. What a great cause!
Comment: Your trek is truly inspiring..our children are our most precious gift..God Bless you and your family during your incredible journey. Char / Tannoy
Comment: Suzanne it is great to read your blog…. almost as much fun as talking to Fred on the radio. God go with you, Fred and Ella. We are thinking of you
Comment: Thinking of you all. God bless. Ella, you’re amazing!
Comment: Dear Team Speckeen, wishing you a wonderful journey, with lots of outward and inward experiences. All the best, Lee-Anne & Anders
Comment: Suzanne - third try to donate, hopefully this time it works. Or maybe you have three donations and more later! Geoff.
Comment: you have my upmost respect and admiration for what you are doing. if your route home takes you through the east pls pls plzz drop by …
okay, I was prepared for blisters (and only have had one small one), sore legs (what else is new for a flamenca!!), maybe a sore back… but I wasn´t prepared for FOOD POISONING!!!!
I have never been so violently ill in my entire life… if I ever see TUNA again, it will be too soon.
So we are holed up in Sahagun until I am road worthy (probably tomorrow morning), me drinking wretched rehydration drinks, F and E sleeping, sleeping, sleeping… oh the joys of the open road.
send me healthy thoughts
xox
Suzanne
p.s. thanks for the donations to the NICU which keep coming in… you have no idea how much that motivates me to keep on going, especially when I feel so awful physically… these messages to us tell us that what we are doing is worth every aspect of the journey… thank you thank you thank you
Not a great day for Suzanne today as she seems to have either come down with food poisoning or the beginning of a nasty flu. We´re camped in a hotel room here as she sleeps. Ella is getting to hang out in bars where they have computers and where we can send emails, check the news etc.
Today was market day in Sahagun and there were streets filled with tables that overflowed with watches, electronics, clothing, clothing, clothing, shoes (and more shoes), cosmetics… It occurred to me that in these old towns where most shops are no more than a few hundred square feet and thus little selection, these markets are something everyone looks forward to. Naturally the streets were filled with people of all ages - it was colourful and loud.
Now off to bed and hope to be able to listen to BBC on a rather unusual portable shortwave radio I picked up today.. sadly, no ham radio bands! Another 21st century problem!
a quick posting from calzadillos… today, a short 17.5 km hike through the meseda… good weather, unlike yesterday´s rain and wind, though windy today and quite tiring after yesterday´s hike…. as we walked the meseda today, to our halfway point (!), we remarked that not a single day has been as tough a hike as that which we experienced in Scotland and the Yorkshire Moors in the autumn and spring…. our Scottish experience has served us very well on this trek… we know how to prepare mentally and physically (food, clothing etc.) for our day´s hike, and also, we know how to stick it out when the going gets tough
yesterday´s rain and wind was very hard on most of the pilgrims… a big, strong man from Germany told us today, that yesterday he considered quitting… a young girl we know, hitchhiked several kilometers…. once again, our clothing and experience saved us…. it was tough, but nothing a sense of humour couldn´t overcome
today we have taken a hotel room…. we are fatigued and need unbroken rest, which is unattainable in alberges, even though last night we had our best ever roommates (with the exception of our happy pilgrims!)… they are a group of Spaniards who all set out solo and have hooked up, forming a laughing, lovely group…. they all slept in until 6:15… you´ve got to love that
anyway, we are in a tiny town somewhere on the meseda… check a map… it´s half way between Burgos and Leon…
take care all, please know that I am faithfully reciting all the names each morning and I still have room for more…. it´s never too late
Suzanna del camino de Santiago de Compostela
Suzanne is too modest. You can view her full article as published today in the Toronto Star at http://www.thestar.com/Travel/article/224444 . Another coup!
The girls are back at the convent getting ready for bed. The sun is now out so the final hours of the day are bright and warm. Having fun but frustrated at not being able to access email today… a 21st century problem in a 9th century endeavor ; )
as usual, I am writing from a smoky, noisy, Spanish bar, filled with men smoking, drinking, playing cards, while their women are at home for siesta or making dinner! thus my bad syntax, poor spelling and disjointed memories of what has actually passed during the day!
as I write, E and F are taking their siesta in their bunkbeds at the Santa Clara convent, where we share a room with 20 other pellegrinos… the convent is a silent cloister of Poor Claires… Saint Francis of Assisi stayed here which is why E wanted to stay here (her birthday is St. Francis´s feastday)
we left Castrojeriz at 7:30 this morning, just after a major downpour. all morning we hiked through wind and rain, the first time we have had to wear our raingear, with a stop for cafe solo grande and pan con choco-crap (that´s what we call Nutella!), and a visit to the alimentation store for fruit, cheese, bread and pate…. halfway through the morning we took another stop for coffee and tortilla (potato and egg pie… available at every bar and delicious), a visit to a 12th c. church then on through the rain and wind to carrion de los condes….
the girl continues to be a trooper… aided by the gift of a lollipop from the barman, she headed out with us to hike the last 6 kms of our 24km hike… it looked grim for all of us until we saw a trio of decaffinatos (cyclists) grinding up a small hill, all the while their RV provided a windbreak for them!! We burst out laughiing and proceeded to lampoon them (they couldn´t hear us!) all the way to carrion …. e.g. “oh no, it´s too windy, my legs are cold”… or “can we have an espresso now?” etc. etc…. you get the picture… it made the journey go faster and anyway,all will be forgiven by Santiago… at least that´s what the book says!
the most inspiring pilgrims are the long distance pilgrims… yesterday, crossing the meseda, we met a lone woman coming in the opposite direction from Santiago de Compostela… when I asked her where she had come from, she told me that she has started at Fatima in Portugal, had been to Santiago and now was headed over the Pyrenees to Lourdes. This woman must have been in her 70´s. We have met many like her, of all ages… a young man who walked from geneva, another from Holland with his dog, another woman from Rotterdam. The thing these people all have in common is that they walk slowly, steadily and peacefully…. none of this 5 a.m.rising and rattling of plastic bags for these ones… they walk with a certainty that they will arrive.
well, there´s probably lots more I can say, but it´s too hard to use this keyboard and think and write etc. etc… so I´ll sign off…
but two more things… the first is that I have an article on South Uist in the Toronto Star today, you may see at least one of my photos etc. online…
the other thing…. today as we were shown into our bunkroom at the poor Claire´s convent, I was so grateful for a bed, blankets, somewhere dry…even though there is no privacy, it´s noisy, a door opens and shuts beside my bed…. I really am grateful, so i guess the pilgrim spirit is rubbing off on me!
all the best, from somewhere in Northern Spain…. check out a map… we are close to halfway there
It´s six a.m. and I´ve been up for an hour…awake longer…I am the recipient of Meseda Panic, or rather it´s side-effects.
Meseda panic is a particular disease that overtakes the pilgrim (not me however), when approaching what is known as the most difficult part of the pilgrimage - the Spanish meseta. What to us Canadians is merely one hundred and fifty kilometers of prairie, flat, hot and beautiful, is to the Europeans, a desert of epic proportion. For this reason, panic sets in and causes the more delicate pilgrims to rise, not at six, not a five, but this morning at four thirty a.m.! The pilgrim then proceeds to tiptoe around, rattle plastic bags, cough, sneeze, blow noses, even chat, while the bulk of pilgrims tries to sleep. Then the pilgrim tries to pack backpack, roll up sleeping bag, dress, wash etc…. all in the dark.
Some pilgrims have LCD headlights that look like miner´s lamps, strapped to their heads - which is okay if they only point the things at their bunkbed. The reality is that they swing their heads wildly, creating a fantastic lightshow on the ceiling and half-asleep faces of their fellow pilgrims.
The pilgrim then makes their way into the foyer and rattles bags, tinkles cutlery, plates etc. and eats breakfast for a half an hour before making their way out into the dark night where the stars are in full bloom.
Now this is okay with me as I like to rise early, but for those whose sleep is precious, this meseda panic is a bit unfortunate… the funny thing is that yesterday, we were the second last out of our alberge, we walked five glorious hours through the unbelievably beautiful meseda, arrived at Castrojeriz at noon and had to wait an hour for the alberge to open… guess what… the early birds were sitting around for hours waiting for the alberge to open too!
oh well, that´s life on the camino… filled with the good, the bad, the ugly and the amusing… meseda panic is very amusing!
on another note…. people continue to go down… one woman we met early on in the pilgrimage just wrote to tell us that she went down to an ankle injury and had to go to the hospital, take a bus, take medication etc. and will maybe if she is lucky, limp her way to Santiago… she told us of another woman who was stung by an ant and had to quit the camino because of swelling and infection…. I don´t think people realize how tough this camino is… the secret to walking it, is as everyone experienced says, is to take it slowly, surely, make sure you stop when you hurt, rest etc….
adios mes amigos
Suzanne
When studying medieval history during undergrad at St FXU in Nova Scotia many years ago, my prof, Dr. M. Patricia Hogan (worth a google search, I´m sure) was keen to not only teach high history, but also social history - putting ´’flesh and bones on these people’. Among the gems she showered on us was a discussion of the role of the pilgrimmage in medieval times. Of course, there was significant religious significance to these pilgrimmages - a rich person could even hire someone to do the Santiago pilgrimmage for them and receive absolution via the efforts of his or her proxy (¿proxigrino?).
The venerable Dr H. also described the pilgrimmages as being somewhat akin to today´s package tours, and no doubt there were hawkers of various reliability out there promoting this to the general population (today I´d develop a marketing campaign around a factoid such as ´come see a country where a Coke costs you 1.50 Euros, a glass of beer costs .90 Euros and a glass of wine costs .50 Euros!´. Little changes, and there are package tours today that offer bus rides to parts of the Camino where you can get out and walk a little of it before getting picked up in the next village, donkey rental services, baggage toting services so you can walk without backpacks to the next village…. I can´t turn my business mind off and have been working on a business plan to exploit the current popularity of the Camino among Germans by opening Beer gardens and Wurst at strategic locations along the route. A second plan involves competing directly with the Auberges by offering a branded alternative complete with multilingual staff, international menus and phone-ahead reservations. Laptops will be available on a rental basis (with free wireless, naturally) in the business centres of each refugio. This is not my finer self coming out. Hopefully the Camino is acting as a purgative!
Dr. Hogan also had her Medieval History students select special project subjects. I remember it being very popular among the male population of the class to focus on such things as medieval methods of torture while the females focused on more relationship-oriented topics - plus ça change… Going back to that class today, I´d like to look a little more into medieval villany (one of Dr. H´s own areas of expertise) but with a particular focus on villany among pilgrims… specifically, assault and even, I wonder, murder?
This in no way stems from any feelings one might have while trying to sleep in a refugio room with 10 to 40 other pilgrims and, at 5 in the morning, having a few of them decide that it´s time to get up and turn on the lights so they can pack. In such a situation, multi-lingual ability with invective would come in very handy. Still, tempers can clearly wear thin on the Camino and, I admit, I have in the past few days experienced moments of what must be a nadir in my fellow-feeling and humanity! These have passed quickly, but left me wondering how often such feelings may have arisen in others and resulted in quarrels or even violence.
I´ll be contacting the good Dr. H. when I return to let her know I have my thesis topic picked out!
In other news, Ella continues to be a real trooper - 5km per hour average in the flat ground. The landscape of the Meseta is unbelievable - big skies like the prairies. Thanks to all who have written and also to those who have donated to the hospital and left messages of encouragement. These have seen us through some tough mornings!
the kilometers and the days fly by as we rise, walk, eat, walk, find an alberge, rest, eat, sleep…
after two lovely days in Ages which we spent with the “happy pilgrims”, our young Dutch friends, during which Neanke, E and I hiked back to San Juan de Ortez to lay prayers at the saint´s tomb (he is the patron saint of fertility), we hiked into the city of Burgos… the outer reaches of Burgos is Dantean in its hellishness, especially after the beautiful Spanish countryside, the medieval villages…semi-trucks, dust, dirt, smog…F and E decided to take a bus into Burgos while I hiked the 8 kms of sidewalk, factory, highway. I wanted to walk into the city and see the twin spires of Burgos Cathedral, just as medieval pilgrims once did, and I wasn´t disappointed. After an hour and a half hiking hard pavement, through the humaine suburbs of Burgos (fountains, parks, shade, bars where entire families sit together and drink cool drinks in the hot afternoon), I turned down a street and my heart gladdened with the sight of two lace steeples made of gorgeous white stone. The architecture of the cathedral is light and airy and a true tribute to what is the very best of humanity in its creativity.
E found us a nice little family run hotel in Burgos (Evolucion) and we spent three nights enjoying the gorgeous city of Burgos, with its esplanades along the river, its spectacular cathedral, and its very friendly people. E and I watched an outdoor mass and loved seeing several hundred children receiving their first communion in long white dresses for girls, and little military uniforms for boys…. all looking very cute. We were equally impressed that the cardinal who presided over the outdoor service, wasn´t bothered that many of the children were late for their own first communion! Such is Spanish life… not too bothered… and why should they be in such a warm climate.
On Monday we headed out of the city, after breakfast at 6, made for us by the woman who runs the hotel with her husband. We trekked for several hours through opening countryside, through villages and up into the meseda. At one village, a tiny nun, smaller than E., stood in the middle of the plaza handing out Mary medallions… very sweet, she gave E. an extra special blue enamel medal. As always, E. is greeted with smiles, hugs, kisses, and “Que valiante” or “Que forte!”
Yesterday we hiked through valleys and meseda to a village I can´t remember the name of and don´t particularly want to. The alberge was the worst we have encounted - dark, dirty, and unfortunately there are a group of pilgrims that make the experience less than pleasant. They are loud, inconsiderate and generally act as though no one else exists… such is life on the camino…
but as I´ve said so many times before about the camino, just when one thinks it´s awful, something wonderful turns up…
there is a saying on the camino… “the tourist expects, the pilgrim is grateful”, and we are grateful for so much… a bed, food, the beautiful camino breeze that comes just when you need it, new pilgrims who are lovely… we had to say goodbye to our happy pilgrim Dutch pair as they head back to work in the Netherlands (though I know we will be friends forever), and we have met a nice pair from Seattle… so it goes…
today, hiking through the fabled meseda (which everyone seems apprehensive about but which is like our prairies and thus gorgeous and interesting and full of life), the camino looked like a wedding bouquet with its poppies, cornflowers, wild thyme, daisies, chamomile, yellow canola, purple thistles, rye and wheat fields… and a medieval pilgrim hospital in ruins, a convent…. finally, on the horizon, CastroJeriz, a hilltop town in the middle of the flat meseda, where there is a new alberge dedicated to the memory of two wonderful men who served all their lives, trying to make the world better.
As I write, the girl is taking her afternoon siesta (manditory), papa is sipping a glass of wine and watching the swallows swoop above the red tile roofs, and I am thinking of all the poems I have yet to write.
all the best, keep your emails and messages coming
yours, from the Spanish meseda (we are over 1 third of the way to Santiago!)
Suzanne
Food
Before we left France, we ate and ate and ate, anticipating huge weight loss as we hiked 20 kms a day…. silly, me… while F. is losing, and E is holding her own, S is definitely gaining (I weighed in at 58 kilos with my “french roll” and am not too sure I want to even go near a scale until after the meseda)! The food in Spain is absolutely delicious. We haven´t had a single meal, snack, cup of coffee, treat, that was bad. Good food abounds…. and by good food, I mean the kind of food that we like… simple, local, fresh. There is the ubiquitous jamon, a thinly sliced ham served on fresh bread with a tiny slice of tomato, served with a cervesa (beer), or Rioja, or limona, or maybe a cafe con leche (with whole milk), and of course every morning starts with jam and butter and bread and cafe… then there are the 10:30 am stops in a village for a sweet bun and more cafe con leche… lunch, another snack, then dinner at 8 or 10 pm, which is three courses at least… all delicious… last night paella, ensalada mixta, ice cream, and of course, wine.
All I know is that I have to be able to fit into my flamenco bata de cola skirt when I come home or else!
Dogs
With the exception of the beloved dogs of this village, which all look like unmade beds I might add, one wouldn´t want to be a dog in Spain. We have seen hundreds of dogs, all chained to little, hot dog houses, out in the sun, where they bark and bark and bark.
Children
On the other hand, to be a child in Spain is to be blessed. The children are universally adored, fawned over, loved…. consequently, the teenagers look happy and well… we have only seen a few overweight children, mostly healthy kids that laugh and play and socialize with their parents and each other. And of course, our little pilgrim receives gifts day after day, kisses, hugs, compliments, waves…. wonderful.
adios from Ages for now… p.s. sorry about bad grammar and spelling… I write most of these dispatches in noisy bars, so it´s all first draft!
Where do I start? How can I possibly write of the past 72 hours and convey the profundity of it all?
After Azofra, the¨”club Med” of alberges (private rooms, a little pool of cold water for dying feet, washing machines, driers, a kitchen, a well-provisioned village, tables with umbrellas!…), we hiked 25kms through to Santa Dominigo, where we saw the chicken that lives in the church (!), and headed through gorgeous Rioja… I am so in love with Rioja and it´s vinyards, its olives, its green horizons… our young Dutch friends told us of an alberge where one gets to sleep in a medieval church tower. That information, coupled with Ella´s fondness for Nienke, the dutch woman, drove our young pelligrina on well past our 11:30 am cutoff time for hiking (we rise at 6 and head out by 7 at latest).
Desperately tired, we clicked our hiking sticks through fields, down the camino, and into the rundown village of Grañon. As with all of the villages we walk through, the church is the central focal point, the secondary being the village plaza where the pilgrim fountains can be found, and as with all villages we come to, we were greeted by the locals who pointed us towards the church, always saying to us, “buenos dias, buon camino¨” and of course, “muoy valiente, muoy forte, que guapa etc…” to our peligrina… the Spanish people are exceptionally warm, especially to us pilgrims, especially to us pilgrims with a young pilgrim attached! Although it was the middle of the day, there were no cars on the streets, no barking dogs, and just a few old men in their gardens who pointed towards the 11th century church.
We passed through an ancient wood door with a heavy pilgrim stick and scallop shell knocker on it, and up winding, narrow stairs, and were greeted with an amazing swoop of olas, hugs for Ella, juice, fresh fruit, and an offer to sit down from Pillar and Birgitte, our hospitaliers. Shoes off and neatly placed in an ancient stone windowsill, walking sticks parked beside shoes, and we were shown to our “beds” under the roof of the church tower. Our beds were mats laid side by side with 30 others!
The Grañon albergue is the polar opposite to the club med of Afroza, vis-a-vis amenities, but what it lacked in showers and wcs (only 1 for 30 women!), it made up for with warmth, a true sense of companionship and caring. At Grañon, pilgrims eat a meal prepared for them together, sleep together, gather for conversation and if they wish, can go to mass together or attend the albergue pilgrim ceremony. It couldn´t come at a better time… for most, Grañon comes at a stage in the Camino that is really challenging… the newness, the novelty of the camino has worn off, the body is starting to fail if it is going to (and we lost several pilgrims at Afroza as they fell to bad feet, knees…), and there is still so far to go. Grañon is a place where everything is looked after… physical, spiritual, and mental, as it is quiet, beautiful, and timeless.
At Grañon, I was asked to sing for the pilgrim ceremony, with a violinist and Fred playing the guitar, plus two men singing bass… the ceremony took place in the choir of the 11thc church with amazing acoustics… several people cried as we performed a Spanish taize song… the ceremony, which included several languages, was especially moving… at one point, a large white candle was passed around the dark choir, from hand to hand, and the pilgrim was given the opportunity to say anything they wanted about the Camino. For me, the most moving moment of the entire journey to date, was when a huge, German man of about 40, who has been at several alberges where we have been, and who has hardly said a word over the past days, held the candle and said something which I couldn´t understand, spoke softly and started to cry…. suddenly, the humanity of the camino amplified, and we witnessed what so many of us have been told about it, that the camino is a place of transformation, honesty (not always comfortable) and vulnerability…. what a brave, brave man…
Several other pilgrims cried, some smiled, some sang, some were silent. When it came to me, I held the candle and asked that we help the old and the very young on the route to Santiago, and that we take the time we need to get there. So many people are rushing to Santiago and they are the ones who are suffering the most - physically some of them, emotionally others… so many who are on the camino are using it to test themselves…how fast, how long they can walk, how far… today, as we made our way to Ages, I stood at the ruins of an 11th century hermitage, and watched a dozen pilgrims pass it by without evening seeing it… still, it´s their journey and I recognize that we all do it in our own way…
at Grañon, we met the young Spanish priest who blesses the pilgrims… in his blessing, he said to us, “on your way to Santiago, you are walking westward, into your shadow… after Santiago, as you turn eastwards, towards home, no matter how you go, by foot, car, train, plane, you will be walking away from your shadow… you will be different people”… he then gave us a beautiful blessing… in the morning, before we left, he blessed Ella… wonderful!
Another 24 kms hike, leaving my beloved Rioja, we came to a tiny village beside a busy highway, called Tosantes (which I nicknamed Tostada!). Here we stayed in another tiny alberge run by two beautiful men who are so relaxed and kind and who made us feel as at home as did those at Grañon. Once again it was a no frills alberge that brimmed with all the very best of the camino. Within a few minutes of arriving (I got there first), I was asked to sing as one of the hospitaliers had heard us the night before. I promised to do so once I was clean and rested.
Like the previous alberge, we slept en masse on mats, and yet it was strangely luxurious… although Ella said she´ll never take a door and a bed and a room for granted again!
Once clean, I went downstairs to relax and one of the hospitaliers sang me two of the most gorgeous, romantic songs I have ever heard… they say that English is the language of business, French of diplomacy and Spanish of love… believe them! This man´s voice was so beautiful, sweet and warm and lovely, that I would have run away with him if he had asked me (and if I could understand a word he said)!!
Again, we ate together, then had a pilgrim ceremony which I sang at, Ella sang, and Fred played guitar… this time a piece in latin. At the end of the ceremony, instead of holding a candle, the hospitaliers opened a little box that contained handwritten notes. Pilgrims who stayed at the alberge twenty days ago, had left prayers. We were to read the prayers out loud in the different languages… the significance being that approximately 20 days from writing the prayers, the pilgrims would be arriving in Santiago and we were to read them aloud in solidarity. The prayer I had was so joyous and appropriate… one of thanks, as this is a journey of thanks for us… others had such incredibly sad prayers, prayers for loved ones suffering from illness, drug addiction, alcoholism, while others spoke of loneliness, and others were like mine, filled with joy and hope…. again, such is the camino…
we ate breakfast together this morning, Ella and Fred played a jig and a fiddle piece by Daniel Lapp for our hospitaliers (who held their hands to their hearts as they played), we bid adios, then made our way through the forest and hills of Castille, as we slowly wend our way towards the meseda, and on to Santiago de Compostella
well I´ve written more than enough and I´ve still so much to write (and have no computer and just a little bit of paper which I carry)… I still want to write about food, children and dogs….
until next time… keep your emails, good wishes (and donations to the NICU!!) coming
adios
A few days óf long hikes, then two nights, a day´s rest in Logrono for us as Ella fell on her knee and couldn´t walk anymore. A course of advil for kids, rest, and Liz T´s camino cure for all that ails the pilgrim - a half tablet of fizzy vitamin C - seemed to do the trick. A 15 km hike to Ventosa, a tiny medieval village with a little alberge on top of the hill, and an evening spent chatting with our French roommates, and a lovely young couple from Holland, and the girl was right as rain. She even played violin for some of the pilgrims.
One of the pilgrims, a woman from New Jersey, said that she would take Ella´s playing home with her as a highlight of the camino… “I never thought I´d see a child playing violin on the camino…. I´d expect them to be playing a gameboy or…..”
One of the sad things about taking a few days out of our trek for rest, is that we lose touch of favourite people…. I think that we humans like the comfort of being with people we know a little… the interesting thing is that there are always a new group of great people to meet. There are four women walking together, one of them is 73 years of age, and she has the worst feet I´ve seen on the camino…. blisters on every toe, every bit of her foot…. still, she perserveres, has come across the Pyrenees and continues, despite the agony of each step, to make her way, one step at a time, towards Santiago de Compostela…. with a smile on her face. I told her that it´s good to wear two pairs of socks and so I bought her a pair at the local store… a pair of purple socks with fairies on them…. and walked to where she was entering Azofra (three hours after us) to carry her pack for her…. when she saw the fairies she smiled, and said, “purple is her colour, and fairies are special to her!” Hopefully she will have less trouble with her feet now she has a second pair of socks, and that the young Dutch woman, a nurse is going to take a look at her feet tonight. Such is the camino.
Also at Ventosa yesterday, I was sitting outside and reading when a very fit man of about 40 strode in, not even a sweat on his brow, and when I asked where he´d come from, he said, thirty kilometers away…. I joked, “don´t forget to smell the roses¨, as there are gorgeous roses growing everywhere here, and he looked thoughtfully and said, “maybe yes”. Well, as I write, he just arrived at Azofra, having made a wrong turn somewhere and having walked 12 kms out of his way… and here he is at this wonderful alberge, 15 kms from Ventosa, far short of his daily 30kms…. and he´s got a big smile on his face….
well more later, our weather is perfect for hiking, slightly overcast, a small breeze, then clearing as we eat our fresh bread, drink our gorgeous local Rioja, cut cucumber, tomatoes, cheese, then head for our afternoon siestas!
ole
