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Yesterday, I picked Ella up from school and headed downtown to the CBC studios for an interview with Jo-Ann Roberts of All Points West.
What can I say about a ten year old who sits back on the couch in the broadcast studio, book in hand, while Jo-Ann is broadcasting to British Columbia, then puts on the headset, saddles up to the microphone and speaks ten times more eloquently than her writer mother ever could, answering each question of the interview without hesitation, then picks up her violin and plays Morrison’s jig up to the hour until the news feed comes in?!
To hear interview, click on highlighted words below!
As I said on the broadcast, Ella will certainly be setting the pace. All 750 kms of it!
- May 3rd, 2008 7:30 - 9:00 pm
- St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Victoria BC
- an evening of music, dance, spoken word with: Daniel Lapp, the BC Fiddle Orchestra, Alma de Espana Flamenco Troupe, introducing Gareth Owen, Quinn and Qristina, Nat Roberstson, Charles Tidler, Ken Farqaharson, and spoken word by: Anne Simpson; Tracy Hamon; Colin Will; Tom Bryan; Daniel Tysdal; SMSteele; Maureen Scott Harris; Isa Milman; Modesto Fraga Moure and Diane Douglas.
- May 3rd, 2008
- 7:30 - 9:00 pm
- St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church Victoria BC
- An evening of music, dance and spoken word with Daniel Lapp, the BC Fiddle Orchestra, Alma de Espana Dance Troupe, introducing Gareth Owen, flamenco guitarist, Quinn and Qristina, Charles Tidler, Nat Robertson, Ken Farquharson and spoken word by: Anne Simpson, Isa Milman, Daniel Tysdal, Maureen Scott Harris, Modesto Fraga Moure, Colin Will, Tom Bryan, SMSteele, Diane Douglas and Tracy Hamon.
- tickets: Victoria Hospitals Foundation or leave a message and contact # here
Jose Maria from Taberna Ultreia (see sidebar), sent me this article this morning… I don’t read Galician, but I can make most of it out… really nice… it talks about our visit to Finisterre, the end of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, and about our upcoming event, Pilgrimage, May 3, 2008, and how the people of Finisterre are going to send messages, images and a poet will write something and send it for the event.
The 90 minute event, Pilgrimage, an evening of music, dance, spoken word and images from the camino, will be held May 3rd, 2008 at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, 7:30 - 9:00 p.m. To date we have lined up, Daniel Lapp, the BC Fiddle Orchestra, Alma de Espana flamenco troupe, several poets from across the country and Spain, and we are just starting… we are hoping that Oliver Schroer will contribute something via video or email… he is just one of the people we dedicated our journey to, and he is the reason Ella brought her violin. This will be our final celebration of our Trek to Santiago de Compostela for the VGH Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Our goal is $30,000, and we are hoping to top it that evening.Please send a message through this site if interested in attending or contact the Victoria Hospitals Foundation for information on tickets.
Early May 2008, the final event for the NICU will be held. A ninety minute program, titled Pilgrimage, will take the audience on a short pilgrimage through live music, dance, spoken word and projected images. Location, date, time… T.B.A. keep posted or leave a message if you want to have more info
Sometimes I have wondered what walking the ancient road has been for me other than an obviously pleasant, challenging meander out of daily life. Then today I receive a phone call from the Victoria Hospitals Foundation telling me that an anonymous donor has just given an amazingly generous donation to the NICU ventilator fund… and I then I understand that it wasn’t for me, has never been for me…. I was just the physical body taking step after step, laughing, crying, aching, despairing, hoping etc… it was really those critically ill newborns and their families who want them so very much, who were actually making the pilgrimage. and for that I give great thanks and courage for the pilgrimage to continue… we have enough for one positive-flow ventilator for tiny ones and we’re going for TWO as promised! wish us luck…
There’s a review in this weekend’s Globe and Mail of a book by some woman named Jane Christmas who walked the camino with 14 other women and is now inflicting her experience on the reading public. Judging from the review, Jane’s experience wasn’t quite what she expected - and I think the operative is “expected”.
Apparently the author heard of a big hike across northern Spain from a WestJet flight attendant, which in itself is worrying, and decided to walk it as a “50th birthday present… something spiritual, challenging, unstructured, nomadic, something that would quieten the mind, give me a little quality time with God, and let my gypsy spirit out for a run”. Yikes. Just reading that excerpt makes me never want to even borrow the book from a library never mind buy the thing… and why?
Let me quote a certain 11 (!) year old: “You can’t organize the camino, it organizes you.”
There’s something distinctly consumer about this woman’s reasons for walking the pilgrimage - and contradictory… that she would want something spiritual and challenging, yet unstructured, gypsy etc… she wants “quality time with God” as if that’s something one can buy a ticket for… it all seems so controlling and demanding.
One of the things my brother wrote to me while we were walking the route, was that “everyone and their dog seems to be doing the Camino… what is it, the latest fad?” and the truth is that sadly, the camino has become something like that. I’d have to say that one of my greatest reservations about making our pilgrimage, which was planned for 10 years and spoken of for 25 years (since studying music at UBC and singing Compostela music), was that people like Shirley MacLean, Paul Coehelo and others, have popularized the Camino, and made it attractive to the kinds of people who make “life lists” of places they must see and things they must do before they die (and typically these are white, middle-class people). We met hundreds of these types of people who were obsessed with finding something and were quite frankly, difficult fellow travellers.
One of the least attractive aspects of the spiritual consumer, was the desperation with which they attacked each day - inevitably, these were the early risers. These were the exhausted types who elbowed our little ten year old out of the way as she lined up to get into an alberge to find a bed. They stepped on her as she waited for a shower. They turned lights on and spoke loudly while she was trying to have her afternoon rest. They told her she shouldn’t be in the kitchen cooking unsupervised… and so on. These consumer travellers were the ones that in the end, drove us from alberges… we could cope with minimal amenities - what we couldn’t cope with any more was rudeness, selfishness, and mean spiritedness… all I believe were a result of disappointment and fatigue.
So maybe this Jane Christmas woman is doing the Camino a favour by writing a book that complains about the experience. Maybe more women (and men) like her will stay home.
you know, we haven’t a clue…
Ella’s pedometer died after day three, and the guidebooks vary in distances significantly - some cite 900 kms, others 750kms, still others factor in elevations and adjust distances. At the height of the Pyrenees we passed a marker that said 769 kms which came as a total shock to us as we thought we were going to walk 750kms!
Then at the bottom of the Pyrenees, after 27 kms (or 25 or ??? depending on which book) of walking up and down in wind, fog, rain, hot sun, we passed a sign that said Santiago 790kms. We couldn’t believe it. How could we have walked so far - in the right direction I might add - and not be closer to Santiago. What’s with that?
Eventually we got used to contrary signage and contrary information. I clearly remember “cracking” the 300 km mark, as stated on a handpainted sign which included the pilgrim encouragement, “Ultreia”, only to arrive at our destination that day and read another sign that said Santiago - 329 kms…I almost cried.
Even on our last day, an easy 20 kms into the city of Santiago, we met a Swiss friend who told us that his guide book says all the signpost distances were incorrect and that in fact we had to hike 29 kms to the city centre!!! (His book is a German publication that some German and English pilgrims knicknamed “the Fuerer”, as in, “where does the Fuerer say we have to go today” or, “what does the Fuerer say about this alberge”)
So when we factor in variable distances, then the unclocked distances walked in search of alberges, provisions, retracing routes, detours to tourist sights etc. etc., and taking into account the two taxis we took when horrendously ill, I’ve come up with 850 kms and I’m sticking with it! The truth is, no matter how many kilometers we hiked….
it was a very, very long way!!
p.s. yesterday, I hiked 17 kms just to blow the cobwebs out. No pack, cool but sunny weather, fresh etc… I was exhausted when I got home. Amazed too that we actually did that and more, once, twice the distance, day after day after day. Such is the camino.
One Foot in Front of the Other
walking to Saint James
Birdsong from scrub that burns with blossoms; someone’s dirty old mop sleeping in the middle of the path that turns out to be a funny little dog; a kiss, a hug from an old lady who offers a candy, a cookie, a “que valiente, que forte, que guapa” for a tired little pilgrim; a fellow traveller who in real life is a masseuse who gives you a desperately needed shoulder massage halfway through your 25 km day; a rock sitting in the middle of the meseda, the “desert” of the Camino, with a hand painted message COFFEE 4 KMS ->; a cool river for aching feet, and always, always, the sweet breeze from the west just when you’re ready to give up - some of the gifts, the immediate gifts of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. The bigger gifts come later. Sometimes, much later.
Make no mistake, though some guidebooks describe the Camino as a “gentle 900 km meander through the north of Spain”, and the Camino never threw at us anything more difficult than the equivalent of a really long hike in the Borders, or maybe one of the “lesser” (and I use the word lesser cautiously) Munros, or an average day hike in the Rocky Mountains, it is an arduous journey that takes or teaches tremendous inner strength. Endurance, focus, self-discipline, fortitude, the ability to withstand pain, as is the ability to endure or ignore the more unappealing behaviours of fellow pilgrims, are the ingredients of each day as one forces oneself to rise from an often uncomfortable or sleepless bed, eat whatever one can find, shoulder a heavy pack and head out once again, with a tired, sore body not knowing sometimes where the next meal is never mind the next bed. This is the Camino that ultimately eludes many – someone told me that less than 50% of those that start, finish the Camino, and judging by what we saw in our early weeks, that may hold true. Bad feet, bad knees, bad attitudes felled people left, right and centre. Sometimes one simply has bad luck – a very fit Danish woman had to quit after 400 kms because an ant bit her, and she got a crippling infection in her foot.
Sometimes now I look at photos I took at the 628 km mark, or maybe the 567 km mark, or even the 225 km mark, and marvel at us. Why didn’t we stop? Wasn’t 300 kms enough? And then I look at the photo I took of a hand painted rock that sat at the side of the Camino, a simple message in German written on it, “Santiago ich komme”, a little blue clad pilgrim in the background of the photo, walking walking walking towards Santiago de Compostela, and my throat tightens, my tears form. Of course, it’s simple -we walked this ancient route for Saint James to feed some longing in our hearts and we walked for her, our child, for whom we promised God we would make this pilgrimage ten years ago. After ten years we fulfilled this promise of thanksgiving.
But there are as many reasons to walk the Camino of Santiago de Compostela, as there are pilgrims. Some look for direction. Some are running away. Some are celebrating completion of something – a university degree, high school, maybe twenty-five years of marriage. Some are mourning the loss of a loved one, a marriage, a way of living. Some want to change something in their lives. Some are recovering from something – we saw heart surgery scars, a brain tumour scar, we met the depressed, all carrying badges of a different kind of courage alongside their scallop shells.
Some pilgrims are giving themselves a mental and physical challenge. Some are looking for God. An ex-military man, an American, was hiking for Sister Scholastica, his fifth grade teacher who told him he’d amount to nothing. Some are looking for love (and we saw lots of that). Some just simply want to walk. Many don’t know why they are walking; they just had to do it and didn’t know why. Of the latter, most say they aren’t religious, yet curiously, when it comes time to receive their Compostela, their pilgrim certificate, they choose the religious rather than the secular, the beautiful Compostela written in Latin, the full-blown, unapologetically Roman Catholic certificate of pilgrimage complete with Saint and halo and swirls. And of all the pilgrims I met, I believe the latter, the ones who state their atheism outright, are some of the most beloved. I have no proof of this, it’s just something whispered to me somewhere along the meseda as I met yet another of the “Godless” (their words), some of whom literally ran to Saint James.
So how does one walk the Camino? It’s stunningly obvious. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. Sometimes giving a hand, sometimes taking a hand. Always, always asking for enough strength to make it up the next hill (or down, which is far more difficult). And when adversity strikes – we had a deadly stomach flu in the meseda, which almost stopped our trek – stop, rest, regroup, see what other ways one can make this trek.
I was told that the Camino is of three parts – joy, death, renaissance; the initial joy of companionship, physical strength and challenge, the death of oneself as one joins the rhythm of the landscape, the seasons, the weather, and ceases to think (this happens sometime in the late 2nd or 3rd week as one enters the meseda, and the final renaissance of the spirit as one nears the end of the journey. The same person told me that the real pilgrimage begins once one is home. A priest who blessed us all at a pilgrim mass in Granon, told us that while we walked towards Santiago, we walked westward into our shadow and that when we returned home, we would be leaving our shadow behind. He said we would be new people. I believe him.
And now we are home, I often hear the words, “I’d love to do the Camino but….” (fill in the blank with bad back, bad knees, overweight, no time, can’t afford to etc. etc.), then I think about the blind pilgrim with her seeing eye dog, the pilgrim with the prosthetic leg, the pilgrim who had no legs but who had a special bicycle that towed his wheelchair, the 84 year old that walked 10 kms a day pushing his little wheel barrel, the two year old in his backpack whose parents, like us, went without income for several months and planned for several years, and of course, a little ten year old who never once said she didn’t want to walk, and who even when direly ill and was offered a bus to Santiago, said, “no, I want to walk”. This pilgrim, clad in pale blue from top to bottom, already knew the gifts of the Camino – the comradely, the little birds, the wild dogs, the fields of wheat and blood poppies, the dust and anarchy and beauty of northern Spain, and ultimately, the chance to lay her head against the shoulder of Saint James, in a shadowy cathedral, still so far away.
Suzanne Steele
July 31st, 2007
This trek is also a fundraiser for the Greater Victoria Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, as a thank you for our daughter’s life. If you feel inclined, please visit our online site and make a donation. http://trek4babies.wordpress.com You may also see photos from our trek and read about our trek at this website as well.
Thank you
(Suzanne Steele, Fred Speckeen and Ella Speckeen were members of OSP from 2003-2005)
for the truly brave, here is the link to the first set of pix from the camino… warning warning warning, you may nod off!
enjoy
http://photoshare.shaw.ca/view/8271715536-1185375608-10203/82717
here are some more…
http://photoshare.shaw.ca/view/8271751853-1185638312-53779/82717
there are about 1000 more! and I just grabbed a bunch somewhat randomly… I’ll do a better job a.s.a.p.
We´ve enjoyed our time here so much. Today on the beach and swimming (ok, for a few minutes only!) and, of course, meeting so many friends from the Camino who seem to be arriving every day. Two doors up from our hotel is a wonderful taverna, Ultreia. Ella and Suzanne and I have played music there for the past two nights as there´s a guitar and an open door for musicians who want to play. Ella and I have had a chance to dig into her repetoire together and it´s been a heartfelt celebration of arriving here in this beautiful fishing village. Jose, the proprietor, is a wonderful musician, himself. He told me that he´d posted photos taken last night on his website. You can find these on the tavern website today http://www.tabernaultreia.com/ . Looking forward to one more night here and another evening of playing tomorrow. It´s now after 1AM so time for even the locals to consider getting off to bed!
Very best wishes to all from
Fred
to you who are sending in donations, thank you… unfortunately, we are having difficulty gaining access to the webpage and so we can´t thank you personally at this time… please know that we are extremely grateful to you and that your kindness will go a long way to helping newborns breath easier.
S, F & E
on the first day of our trek, we met a 71 year old woman who had hiked 3000 kms from her home in Rotterdam. When I asked her for advice on how best to make our journey, she replied, “flexible, be flexible”. That night, when we went to bed in the huge ancient alberge at Roncevalles and I didn´t have a sleeping bag, only a sleeping bag liner as did she, we both decided we would just have to sleep in ALL our clothing and it was not big deal. Within a few minutes, the hospitalier, a big Dutch guy, took us aside and quietly found some blankets for us. It was my introduction to life on the camino… there is always a bed, some food and companionship.
So flexible became my motto for the camino. Good thing too…
just as I was preparing to go to Seville two days ago, while Fred and Ella were hiking to Finisterre, I changed my mind and decided to take a bus and meet them at the first village. I texted Fred on his mobile phone and he texted back, “great!” I changed my train ticket to a bus ticket and just as I was going to get on the bus to meet them, I received another text from Fred saying that he needed me to call him immediately as he and Ella were returning to Santiago.
I called Fred and he told me he had been hit by a car while hiking, that he wasn´t hurt badly (bruised arm from the driver´s side mirror hitting him and breaking) and that they had to return to Santiago as a little dog had followed them for 20 kms and they had to bring it back… also, E was missing me terribly and was very upset at seeing the accident after which, the driver had gotten out of the car and screamed at Fred (!) for breaking her mirror… she, by the way had hit him!!! The strange thing is that the previous night I had said to Fred that I felt we were so lucky that nothing awful had happened to us on the camino and that I almost thought I was tempting fate by heading off to Seville alone…
long story short, they took a cab into Santiago and I found us a room, we had a nice night in the town then took a bus to Finnisterre together yesterday. What a lovely town Finnisterre is… I had expected a tacky tourist village, stuffed with camino “crap” as we call the souvenir shops(!), but in fact Finisterre is a real fishing village filled with real people… any other seaside town in Europe would be jam packed with expensive condos and shops and traffic… Finisterre seems unconcerned with tourists, especially of the pilgrim kind!
So last night we hiked up to the lighthouse, toasted our trek, then hiked down to meet friends. We played music in the Taberna Ultreia - a fitting name for a tavern esp. for us, as the first camino song we learned was Ultreia, a medieval pilgrim song - at one point in the evening E. was playing fiddle for a rapt audience who came off the street once they heard the music! I sang and we had a great time… we even sang Barrett´s Privateers!
One other interesting thing is that when Ella and I went for a walk yesterday, we were standing on a hill overlooking the bay when suddenly along came someone we hadn´t seen since several weeks previous…. we hugged, then along came two dear friends we hadn´t seen since the beginning of our trek, then a minute later, another dear one from the last two weeks of our trek … there is no reason any of us should have been there as we were all well ahead or behind each other…. such is the camino
So this, our journey has ended. All´s well that ends well… from Finisterre
Suzanne
we clicked our way down the cobblestones of old Santiago de Compostela at 12 noon yesterday. I shall always remember the feeling of seeing the cathedral spires and the happy fatigue of my body as we entered the main square.
Ten years of dreaming this journey, and now it´s done. While it´s far too early to understand the meaning of it, all I can say is that as I climbed the narrow staircase behind the cathedral´s main altar to the tiny room behind Santiago, and when I hugged the saint, I felt great gratitude. Later, after communion with hundreds of pilgrims from around the world, I looked up to the dome of the cathedral where sunlight was beginning to filter through, and the only words that came to mind were, “thank you”. Thank you for life, thank you for a body strong enough to sustain such a journey, and most of all, thank You for the life of my child. When our daughter faced such a tough beginning in life, and when nothing could be guaranteed, I never dreamed in a thousand years that I would one day be walking into Santiago de Compostela with her and her father… and now here we are.
Tomorrow, she and he leave to walk to Finnisterre. I shall head for Seville. We will meet up in France.
We will continue this web site into the autumn and keep you up to date on events etc. Also, we will post photos a.s.a.p. and finally, we will continue fundraising for the VGH NICU. Please know that all your money will go to the NICU and is greatly appreciated - no matter how big or small the donation.
with gratitude, from Santiago de Compostela
Suzanne
p.s. I placed my list of 250 names of people for whom and with whom I have prayed with each step of the way on the Camino de Santiago to Compostela, into a little space behind Santiago… these prayers should be in heaven by now!
I write this as we are drinking our morning cafe solo con tostadas… my knee is feeling like it can walk to Santiago today! I am wearing a skirt in honour of Santiago (Saint James) - actually, hiking in a skirt is great - and the weather is overcast which is perfect for morning hiking.
Just before the 100 km mark, I bought some sheep bells for me and Ella to ring at each kilometer mark to let Saint James know we are coming. If you listen really hard, you may hear them in Canada at 5 a.m. PST (12 noon UK time) as well stroll into Santiago.
Thanks for the encouragement, the messages of congratulations etc… please keep your eyes on this site as I shall continue to write from Santiago, enroute to Finnisterre, and when I get home to Canada, I will make a slide show and put it up on the site.
Okay pilgrims (including the 155 names I carry and for whom I pray with each step towards Santiago)… let´s go!
Suzannah del Camino de Santiago de Compostela
A journey of 800km+ is simply unimaginable at the outset, in both time and distance. The mind only concerns itself with weather, clothing, food and physical maintenance. Planning more than that is conceit, as assumptions about health, a predictable schedule etc are only that, and not guaranteed. The past 45 days has, in this sense, been extremely liberating, but also (in the larger scheme of things) maybe more realistic in that we may think we control so much in our lives but actually control so little. The simplicity of completing one day´s journey and getting ready for the next has been very relaxing for me. Now that we have only 20km or so to go, it´s interesting to make the shift back to more long range planning such as hotel reservations, airplane reservations, and where one plans to be not in one day, but in one week, one month or even one year. I´m feeling very happy and thankful to have had this chance to be with Ella and Suzanne on this long meander through Northern Spain, and thankful for all of the interesting people and great support and messages we´ve met and had along the way. Tomorrow promises to be interesting!
Fred
it´s always a dangerous thing to make definitive statements… yesterday, I said we were in top physical shape… well, today for the first time ever my knee has begun acting up and I had to stop early for the day.
Perhaps it´s because we hiked 32 kms yesterday, or maybe because I am carrying more weight (Ella´s books for example!), or maybe even because the camino has become so much more crowded since the 100km mark and is much more difficult to walk - because the short-distance pilgrims are generally slow walkers due to pain or just generally not being in shape and also, because they tend to walk in large groups, we have to change our rythmn and pace to make our way around them… whatever the reason, I am using Ibuprofen cream and taking anti-imflammatories…
I have heard of many long distance pilgrims injuring themselves in the last 10 kms and I don´t want to add my name to their list!
So we have stopped in a nondescript highway town and are staying the night in a little room above a gas station. It sounds awful but it isn´t. It always surprises me to find clean, nicely decorated and quiet lodgings in really unappealing locations. Not only does this gas station have nice rooms above it, but it also has a great restaurant and bar.
The ubiquitous Spanish bar is a real treat - a place for a great cafe solo, or a cervesa, or a bowl of calda galiga or a three course meal (after 7:30 p.m. for the food anyway!). George, the guy I met in Logroño, and who owns a Cuban bar there, says that there are only a few thousand less bars in Spain than in the entire E.U. It is a way of life and a good one at that.
F., E and I just returned from our paseo through the village and ran into the gang we have been travelling alongside for the past week and a half. A guy from Nanaimo, a woman from Vancouver, a guy from Austria, a Swiss man, an American woman and an Australian woman. As Jeff, the Canadian said as we took a seat beside him on the sidewalk outside the bar, “it´s all the usual suspects”. I couldn´t begin to count up the number of cafe solos, cervesas and meals we have shared these past days, especially when we have hiked great distances. What a pleasure to roll into a village and see smiling faces, or else to be sitting in a village and have Jeff or Mark stride in and pull up a seat. Good companions.
All of this gang came to the camino solo. Several met within an hour of leaving St. Jean… and here they are six weeks later, good friends for life I suspect. Today, as we sat down and chatted with them, I felt sadness like an umbrella over them as they realize their amazing time together is almost over.
I spoke with Dominic, the Austrian about the camino and how the gifts are many. Even with pain comes laughter, or especially on the camino, something beautiful. So many times our trek has been leavened by something really funny e.g. the baby we travel with, biting our mascot, a stuffed black and white cat called Mouser… every time we see Noah on the camino, he jumps up and down in his backpack on his father´s back and looks excitedly for Mouser. Ella gives him the cat and he proceeds to bite it, drown it, bash it… whatever his little two year old mind feels like doing. We laugh and laugh.
Other times we might see a funny dog such as the one we saw earlier today - we thought it was an old mop sitting in the middle of the camino, until we neared it and it sleepily put its head up and blinked its eyes at us until we passed.
So much delight, so much challenge. The camino in a nutshell.
Some of the long distance pilgrims resent the 100 km pilgrims. We think it is a fine Spanish tradition that entire schools or scout troops or parishes hike the camino together. We even appreciate the family whose father drives every 200 metres then hikes back to meet his family. After meeting a blind pilgrim, a pilgrim without the use of his legs (he rode a specially adapted bike), an 84 year old pilgrim, a 2 year old pilgrim in a backpack… we think that however one makes the camino, it is the intention that is beautiful.
So am I sad to be at an end of our camino? Not really. My body says it´s time. I shall miss meeting so many amazing people, but I think if one keeps open to life then inevitably more amazing people come along. As for Spain, I know I shall always love Spain and will hopefully return again and again - especially for flamenco!
Until I next write from Santiago, all the best. Think of us as we hike the last and in many ways, the most difficult kilometers of our journey.
Suzanne
after a 30 km day, a record for us and totally unintentional, we are in Arzua. We are 39 kms from Santiago and will hike to the 22 km point for tomorrow, and will be walking into Santiago sometime Saturday afternoon. It all depends on how many stops for coffee, cervesas etc. we will have.
today, we hiked 15 kms in 3 1/2 hours… a record for us, and totally unexpected. we are in tremendous physical, emotional and spiritual shape, and the kilometers just fly by.
must go, more later but it´s time for dinner and I´m running out of computer time….
chill the champagne!
Suzanne
p.s. if anyone wants to text us on Sat. afternoon, we´d love it
68 kms to go… three days… and suddenly I am so very tired. It´s not the terrain, as it´s easy walking. It´s not the weather, as we continue to have perfect walking weather - a light cloud cover for mornings, then sunshine when we break for the day at 3 p.m. I have spoken to other long distance pilgrims (versus the 100km pilgrims who have just started), and they all feel great fatigue. I think it´s because we are realizing the end of the camino is only days away and our minds are telling our bodies that they can begin to relax. The problem is, it´s too early to relax! We still have 68 kms to go and while that is a piece of cake to those of us who have 800kms under our belts already, it STILL IS 68 kms!!! A long way.
The other thing that is making me weary is that we are travelling with hundreds of other pilgrims and the camino is quite busy. This means watching the camino carefully as we pass the new and inexperienced hikers, and also we are unable to get into that beautiful meditative space that comes with silent walking for several hours. Also, we are walking on a lot of pavement or covered surfaces, and this makes it hard on our feet and shins.
Having said this, it is still beautiful. Spanish life is still beautiful. Galicia offers all sorts of treats - Santiago cakes, pulpo, fresh white wines, great food of all kinds - and the countryside is gorgeous. We met an Irish woman yesterday who says Galician villages look like villages on the west coast of Ireland. And indeed, much of the landscape looks Scottish, albeit somewhat warmer.
Last night I woke at 4 a.m. and felt really sad that our camino is nearing its end. Although I´m tired, look forward to returning home, look forward to working again (another revision of my book to begin with!), I know I will miss the pure physicality of the camino. I love feeling a part of the landscape. I love meeting fascinating people, and I particularly like walking through a tiny village, smelling all the smells, looking at how the stone buildings have been arranged, admiring the workmanship of the stone houses and barns and ancient churches, enjoying the animals mooing and barking and baahing at us as we click our sticks on the stone roads, waving to the old folks who sleep in their chairs in their gardens or barnyards or by their front doors and who wake just long enough to say Hola to us, and I love having morning coffee sitting outside a bar and watching the parade of pilgrims go by, and then getting up, shouldering my pack, picking a rose for my hair, and taking another thousand steps towards Santiago de Compostela.
until the next time… adios!
Suzanne
Portomarin, and just 89 kms to go! Suddenly, the end of our trek is in sight. We have hiked over 100 kms in the past 4 days and are feeling it in our bodies and our minds… we are tired but very, very happy, as are all the other long distance pilgrims.
At the 100 km mark, suddenly we have been joined literally by busloads of pilgrims who are walking the last 100 kms. If a pilgrim walks these kilometers, she-he will receive the official pilgrim certificate - thus the thousands of pilgrims. We walk into a town and the bars are full, the streets are full, the shops are selling every Santiago de Compostela souvenir imagineable, and on the camino itself we see pilgrims who look like they have never walked a kilometer in their life. Inevitably, the latter are hobbling or sitting by the side of the camino with shoes off, or with sandles on or just looking somewhat amazed that the trek is as difficult as it actually is.
This morning, I saw Carlos and his dad again, and he asked me how I was and was amazed when I said it was like any other day… painful at the start. He was amazed that after 750 kms that it would still be difficult to walk. I told him that the first two hours are always difficult as I adjust my pack, my pace to the terrain, my focus, and get used to the weather and the aches and pains of yesterday, especially after climbing a mountain and coming down (by far more difficult). After my first break of the day for coffee and something tasty - usually after 10 or 12 kilometers, soemthing really sweet happens and I don´t think about walking any more, but just exist. Wonderful!
This lasts for a few hours until about the 22km mark and then fatigue and pain sets in again!! Usually, the last 2 kms are really tough… that´s when I bring out the treats for Ella, and one of us will zoom ahead and get a room or a place in the alberge.
After we find a place, we get clean, put on fresh clothes and have a happy hour (or two or three!), then a snooze, dinner, wash clothes etc. and bed. Up again at 7 (we are sleeping in now we know the end is in sight), breakfast of coffee and tostados, then off we go for another leg of our journey. Lately I have walked alone in the mornings and go ahead and locate a rest stop etc. while they sort themselves out.
This morning, as I waited for F and E at the 101 km mark (so we could walk to the 100 km mark together), I thought about how anyone walking the entire camino becomes an officianado of terrain - which is the best ground… gravel, grass, Roman road, cobblestone, pavement, asphalt, cement, rock, mud… upon which to walk… and how when one walks the roof of Spain, one smells the country and it´s fantastic… everything from the farm animals to the wild thyme, the lavendar, the dust of Rioja, the city smells, the perfumes of the Spanish (and they love perfume), the clean early morning pilgrim smell, the late afternoon sweat smells (nice actually)… and the sounds… birds, animals, the tick tick tick of pilgrim sticks on stone echoing against medieval village walls, the clang of sheep bells, the sound of jugs of milk being steamed early in the morning for cafe con leche… and on and on
and the sights! oh that will be for me to write about another day!
two things I want to say… if anyone wants a postcard from Santiago, send me your address
also, I will be doing talks, presentations, slide shows etc. until I have finished fundraising for the NICU, so if anyone wants me to come and talk about the trek… and I can focus on any subject from logistics, to plants, to history, architecture, motivation etc.. then contact me…. the only thing I will ask is for a donation to the Greater Victoria Hospital Foundation NICU (Ella´s trek to Santiago fund)
all the best from the camino
Suzanne
It´s great to be through the final hilly portions of the trek. As Suzanne wrote, Galicia´s geography is very different to anything we´ve experienced so far. We left the higher levels this morning literally walking through the clouds, up over the final alto, then down into the valleys below. The sun was out by 10AM as we made our way along oak-tree shaded pathes beside streams that are teaming with trout. Fly fishing must be amazing here - note to self to return and learn more!
Galicia seems much less prosperous than the other regions we´ve walked through, but it seems a rich land with plenty of farms, friendly people and gorgeous scenery. Throughout the journey we´ve found ourselves on old roman roads - so often, in fact, that I´ve been forbidden from singing the Hymn of the Ancient Britons by both S and E - I hum it softly to myself as it still brings a chuckle http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/David_Rossall/song_wtu.htm - maybe you´ve heard it?
It occurred to me today in a quiet, non-singing moment that the soundtrack of our entire journey has been riotous birdsong - whether in the forests, in the meseta or even in the cities where the swallows abound and swoop in squadrons through the air, around church towers and in and out of the open windows and doors of barns and abandoned buildings. Songbirds of all sizes and even many different kinds of birds of prey abound. Little field mice often scurry out of the grass and across the paths in front of us; skinny, wild cats work the mown fields, and big serious dogs patrol and watch the sheep and cows - sometimes momentarily taking a short break for a meander over to the young pelegrina who calls to them so they can get a good petting and chin scratching before they turn and head back to work. Other dogs are not so well behaved. I´ve also witnessed perro-banditos (bad dogs!) at work conspiring to frighten pilgrims. Ít´s all in good fun, and probably an antidote to the long hot days guarding other animals. Like the swallows, they, too, know how to have fun.
I met an 84 year old French pelegrino yesterday with whom I spoke for well over 30 minutes (he was extremely patient with my French) He´s pulling a small single-wheeled cart with his pack on it; he covers 12-15 km per day this way. He has been walking different portions of the Camino for a number of years now since his wife died some 7 years ago. He regaled me with stories of all of the children and parents he´s met on the Camino. He, himself, never had children, and takes great joy in seeing the younger ones making their way. He says he gets a lot of strength from seeing them go ahead while he, the ´tete grise´´comes along slowly bringing up the rear.
I´ve had two other ´old man´incidents recently. One was when I was making the solo 50km trek from leon to astorga on the Meseta. A lovely looking old fellow wearing a beret and riding a bike was coming toward me in the afternoon heat along the long straight road. We came alongside each other just on the edge of a small village. He stopped and asked where I was from. Canada seemed a good answer as he smiled and talked for some time, losing me completely. He then pointed to my ring finger and raised his shoulders, asking if I was married. I explained in my limited Spanish that I was travelling with my wife and daughter but that they had been ill and gone ahead. Ahhh, he said nodding and smiling. He then wished me a good journey and headed off. I wonder what might have transpired if I had answered that I was single?! No doubt a lovely Spanish maiden languishes in that small, remote village, waiting for an eligible bachelor to walk into town.
The other story took place later that day as I walked into the outskirts of Astorga. I was limping and using both walking sticks for support. My trajectory intersected that of another old fellow who was coming across the street at 90 degress to my own path. We almost bumped into each other, causing us both to laugh and, i think, consider the rather pathetic way both of us were making our way by foot. He asked where I´d started and if I´d finish the Camino, then took my hand and very sincerely welcomed me to Astorga, thanked me for walking the Camino and wished me well on my way. These moments of meeting strangers and receiving their sincere good wishes for the journey really lift the spirit, and make me wish i spoke Spanish much better. There is something very good in the hearts of the people here.
That´s all for now.
Fred
PS Thanks to those who have recently donated. Thank you, thank you! Sadly we cannot log into the donation site to find out who you are. We will keep trying, but want to let you know how much encouragement and happiness it brings.
we have walked our second highest peak into Galicia - beautiful, beautiful Galicia - for me, my best moment of the entire camino… I hiked alone through a valley and up a mountain into gorgeous green hills filled with purple heather, foxgloves, wild thyme, wild mint, through the mist, over streams, through old stone villages onto the hilltops, all I could hear was birdsong, my own breath as I worked hard to put one foot in front of the other, then all of a sudden, out of the mist, on a hill that rose immediately to my left, the sound of bells… sheep bells, cow bells, and I felt so much a part of the landscape, just me, the cool wind, the misty, the animals….a perfect, perfect moment
at the top of the mountain, a busy, lovely village filled with tourists, buses, pilgrims, scouts, decafinados, then a downpour… I ducked into a bar to wait for F and E and sat with two Spaniards I had met earlier, Luis and his father, we had a bowl of Galician soup and bread and wine and talked about Spain… I asked so many questions, we talked flamenco, it was so interesting…. Luis´s father told me about the bullfight and asked if we were coming to Madrid … I know he´d take us if we did go to Madrid…. then he told us about being a penitent in Semana Santa and on and on… so fascinating to speak with a Spaniard, and a southerner at that, about all that interests me about Spain. One thing that stuck with me was when he told me that Spain is a cruel country… to which I responded that life isn´t easy, and he laughed that I might understand the concept of duende! I hope we run into the two of them again as I have a million more questions to ask.
We have covered a lot of Spain these past few days and have travelled with a great group of people. For several days we have travelled with a young Swiss couple and their two year old son Noah. Noah and Ella are great companions for each other. As usual, the Spanish treat the children like gold (which they are of course) and sometimes look at us parents who have chosen to bring our children on such an arduous journey as somewhat criminal! Our girl continues to amaze us with her fortitude, her self discipline. We had two days of plus 30 heat. We hiked then took breaks for ice tea, cervesas and treats. I think we are all motivated to finish this trek and while we know we will be sad to finish, we will be equally ecstatic to know that we have actually got it in us to complete such a tremendous journey.
As it stands, we have hiked over 700kms. Unbelievable. And we are still laughing, bickering and talking. And every night, I still have my famous “sock anxiety” as I try and locate the girl´s socks for the next hiking day.
To those of you who worry about the girl, rest assured that we are taking good care of her and not asking more of her than she can give. Last night, in the wonderful alberge, we got her a professional massage before we had a fabulous Galigian meal. Today we are in a nice hotel with a swimming pool! This entire journey has been about making sure each of us is as comfortable and happy as possible… also supporting the weakest member… and sometimes it´s me or F or E….
well, I know this isn´t probably my best posting, as it´s a little scant on details (where, what, when), but I just wanted to write a quick note to tell you that we will be in Santiago within 6 or 7 days…
thanks again for the support, the lovely emails, messages, and yes, the donations to the Victoria General Hospital Neonatal Intensive Care Unit… we have much to be grateful for
Suzanne
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 stree