Camino de Santiago Fall 2010

Began on October 24, 2010, my companion and I journeyed 900 kilometers over 44 days (including 4 rest days) from St. Jean Pied de Port, France to Finnesterre, Spain on foot. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-26818124-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();

[caminochris]

Baptism Day: December 7, 2010 Part 2

Finisterre

I leave this picture of the open windows from our hotel room. It was winter, but for these brief moments, the sun worked its magic and all hope and optimism returned to itself. We left that window open for new caminos and took with us the spirit of the pilgrim into a new form. In Spanish you do not say estoy peregrino (I am a pilgrim) which is the conditional, changing form of the be verb. Instead you say: soy peregrino (I am a pilgrim) in the sense of identity that never changes.

We got our final certificate as pilgrims to Finisterre, the true end of the camino; we had a lunch, that I sat and watched from the balcony of a little restaurant and strolled around this lazy little town before our bus would pick us up and take us back to Santiago. We were done walking but we had just begun our path of being pilgrims.

Soy peregrino!

[caminochris]

Baptism Day: December 7, 2010 Part 1

Finisterre

I decided to rename this day: Baptism Day. Finisterre is the place for release and the place to find a new baptism; a cleansing, a purity.

I awoke in the night, after the celebration meal, including cigars, with that clear sense of the foreboding truth—I was getting sick and I could not stave off much time before I found myself in the bathroom working out the toxins quite forcefully.

It's that state of suspension when you know something needs to be released and at some point, you have no volition left in the matter—life chooses it for you. This was that moment.

As I look back at the beginning of the walk, that first day and think of the grace that had surrounded us as we walked up the gentle farmlands above St. Jean Pied-de-Port. We seemed blessed with a beautiful day—though it turned out nearly deadly. Other days, like yesterday, were of that easy grace as we walked into this seaside town. And that grace turned violent and intense as I spent hours letting everything in my body wash out until I was empty such that when I woke up, I touched upon a new grace with the beautiful sea air and the sunshine and a gentle and steady recovery.

We had seen the French-English couple in Santiago and they said they'd picked shells, the scallop shells that were the symbol of this pilgrimage. We decided we'd do the same and headed to the sea, in fact, we found our way to a corner less-traveled of this little beach that took some adroit maneuvering to get to.

I'd already decided and promised myself I'd dive into the ocean fully as my final ceremony—my baptism as I begin a new life. Though when we arrived, there were rocks everywhere and the water was icy to my toes. But I kept exploring until I came upon a fresh beach that met the requirements. It was here we gathered shells abundantly and I found my courage to race into that frigid sea and wash myself clean.

Letting the pictures speak, I sat in the sun and just let myself soak it all up as my body dried with grace and warmth shining down on me for a few moments before she went behind the clouds.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 44: December 6, 2010 Part 4

Cee to Finisterre: 24 km

Grace descended as did the sun. A pinker, softer world emerged and relishing in it was all that was left to do.

I looked westward towards the Americas, towards yet another beach that I lived on in the other extreme western part of that continent. West was full of promise.

We were finally ready to engage with others and went for a little coffee at the lighthouse café. We sat also with our French friend we'd met back after leaving Santiago. We took pictures, we laughed. We were done! The only pilgrims with backpacks, we looked a bit odd. 

I asked if there was a room in the lighthouse inn, but it gets booked months in advance it turns out—that was yet another reason for walking the packs, just in case. So we walked back in the dark with our new French friend and Ariel. We'd find a hotel and call tonight our celebration meal Galician style. Antonio had written down several delicacies of the region on a napkin that I carried with me and we did our best to order several of them, along with abundant wine and desert coffees—the yummy one where they burn the sugar and add cognac to it (I must find the name).

It was a feast and all the while we sat first next to an English-Spanish couple (the woman had lived in Spain for much of her adult life) and then came Ariel, the Spanish man from the night before and another friend as we were at desert.

We'd carried two Cohiba cigars across this country and tonight we lit and smoked them in celebration, basking in the fullness of completion.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 44: December 6, 2010 Part 3

Cee to Finisterre: 24 km

We'd already seen a double rainbow (a rainbow over another rainbow) while walking into Finisterre. As we approached the lighthouse, we looked up to see the miraculous rainbow that completely encircled the sun—a sun dog (sun halo)! That was an extraordinarily humbling experience as I grabbed my companion's hand, and we walked to the windy end.

This is where I want to stop writing and just let the awe of the sky, the sea and breeze take over...

We would take our ritual. Signs everywhere said not to burn, but the ground and any bush around was burnt black. But we followed the request and rather took the object we'd release and took it to the tower. For me, it was those inner pants—my long underwear—that had served and symbolically were ready to be offered up here with great enthusiasm.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 44: December 6, 2010 Part 2

Cee to Finisterre: 24 km

As we approached the cape at the end of the earth, we ran into several friends. First the two men we'd seen the first day of the Finisterre pilgrimage. We walked together a bit. They were very relaxed and it turns out they'd rented a car and would drive to Muxia the next day and even invited us.

We'd made the decision that we'd gone this far and we would not look for a place to set down our backpacks for the night. No, we would keep pressing on with our backpacks till the end. This had the focused feeling we had as we came into Santiago. We would walk with these backpacks till the end!

It was at this final juncture in the city of Finisterre that I looked over and saw Ariel riding towards me. "Ariel!" I yelled.  He nearly jumped off his bike, and actually dropped it then and there. Ariel with his feet wrapped in plastic bags to stave off the mud of the trail. We were so excited—and again, as we were finishing—here was our friend!

He'd suffered through the storm on the way to Muxia and made it and here and again we were crossing paths at the ultimate point where we'd join to take the next kilometers along the narrow road, past the town to the end of the road; the end of the earth.

It it hasn't been obvious, Finisterre literally means the end of the earth and was named as such by the Romans as the most westward piece of land. And as such, this pilgrimage, which includes Santiago, is also an older pilgrimage to where the sun disappears mysteriously behind the ocean. This is the ancient pagan place of ritual, mystery and magic. Exactly why St. James, Santiago, might have been attracted to proselytize in these lands that had such spiritual influence.

Ariel joined us, walking his bicycle these last steps with more and more dramatic views, including passing the beautiful pilgrim statue.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 44: December 6, 2010 Part 1

Cee to Finisterre: 24 km

The walk to Finisterre was not that far. We would cross from the seaside town of Ceé through a forest walk before we found ourselves reaching the ocean again and then walking alongside her for the next hours.

The weather was gloriously warm. Such that I actually took off my inside pant liners. Also because we reached the ocean relatively quickly again, it seemed that we'd not have far to walk from that point. But still, we walked and walked, crossing little villages. At some point, we crossed to the vista where the cape of Finisterre was clearly visible, with it's dramatic cliffs—I felt a home like I'd felt the first time in Big Sur, California and they have such similarities with the cliffs that cascade to the sea.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 43: December 5, 2010

Olveira to Cee

Major wind and rain storm with gusts of over 100 KPH. Fortunately I had a waterproof camera!

[caminochris]

Camino Day 43: December 5, 2010

Olveira to Cee: 18 km

Today was the third and last day of the walk to Finisterre—or so we thought. We awoke with the banging of our shutters against the window panes. I looked out to see a fierce wind, but no rain.

Breakfast was memorable as finally I'd learned the word for my "Spanish Toast" or pan con tomate, which is a delicious concoction of toasted bread with melted garlic with tomatoes, olive oil and salt. A simple meal, but so difficult to find at a restaurant or cafe.

Here we had it, though the tomatoes were packaged up individually like catsup. As slow as were were getting out this day, Ariel was just as slow and we hugged before embarking for the morning. He was heading to Muxia, not Finisterre. This could be our last goodbye.

We started our walking, ascending towards the hills that would lead us downwards towards the ocean. It wasn't more than an hour of walking before we got our ponchos on. The rain and wind came upon us, then the fog until visibility dropped to ten feet or so as we climbed towards the summit. At the summit, the wind remained so strong, blowing against some wires, that it made an eery whistling noise that lasted and lasted as we walked.

Today we walked in faith, step after step. It was so much like our first day. Too much so. The wind and rain seemed just as bad. We were just as cold and soaked. The difference being that this time, we carefully found each camino marker and still had a chance to reach civilization before dark.

We were in the fog until with a break on the descent when we saw the ocean for the first time! Truly a glorious moment. From the mountains of the Pyrenees, we'd walked in faith to Santiago and to the ocean and here she was and she felt like home—a primal call for mother.

Wet and wind-lashed, we joyfully descended into the seaside town of Cee, where we sought out a hotel. We would put off arriving until another day. We found the comfort of our room, where everything came off dripping wet to hang. We dined with flip flops so as to keep our boots drying on the radiator too.

Surprisingly, we ran into the pilgrims from the previous night, who had made this night a celebration meal. They joined us together as the dining room opened to share a meal together. They would order the extravagant dishes while we ate our set meal this night. They thought this their last meal together after having walked together. There were so many ways to walk this trail. And they walked it together, daily, for weeks, just like us. We all wanted to share in the experience with another, like tonight, and that felt good.

[caminochris]

 Camino Day 42: December 4, 2010

Negreira to Olveira: 35 km

This might have been our longest walking day yet. 35 kilometers or so. The reason being, the towns are very spaced apart so a decision has to be made to stay short, or go long. Most choose to go long. 

From the misty morning, we climbed hills and crossed through one rolling farmland after another. 

Ariel found us, of course! And sometimes he walked along side us. Another time, along the road, he yelled so suddenly that my heart jumped out of my chest.

We walked and walked and walked. A male pilgrim passed quite steadily past us at some point. We finally descended into the dark to this village that was so small and lively on this Saturday night. 

The inn we stepped into took us back to another time. Here a little wedding reception seemed to be happening with the lit fire in this cosy country home made of rock with white mortar. Our room was our favorite on the camino and a welcome relief to the walk. 

Here at the bar, we sat where the pilgrim who had passed us sat with two Koreans and Ariel. Ariel joined us for a long, abundant dinner full of good spirits before we retired. Ariel shared with us that he was on his way to Africa after this, on his bicycle. He'd taken so long to get to Santiago the first time as he'd met friends here and there and taken a sidetrack for his every interest. He truly lived for the moment and advocated a radical life of living to the fullest. This dinner would be our treat for our fellow adventurer that gave so much of himself.

[caminochris]

 Camino Day 41: December 3, 2010

Santiago to Negreira: 23 km

After a leisurely afternoon and evening, we awoke strangely ready to walk. We'd known about Finisterre since the first night in the albergue in France. We were told to keep going the extra three days until you get there to burn something, wearing white, as a ritual of being born again—purified. 

Three days to go. After forty, what were three more? So after a very big breakfast buffet where we said our couple from Cadiz again, we prepared ourselves make our way westward. Our guidebook ended in Santiago, but we stopped by the tourist office and picked up a new map, guide and pilgrim passport for this sanctioned pilgrimage.

There was a powerful, refreshed feeling to our spirits. Walking did not seem to be a burden, but actually "the way." We needed it, our bodies and spirits. We embarked with great enthusiasm. 

Along the way, we saw two relaxed pilgrim men dining for lunch, whom we'd not guess were pilgrims except they had backpacks. These two Spanish we'd encounter the next days. At the bridge crossing (from the photos) we found Ariel yet again!, and a French pilgrim and we took photos before crossing together. It was a quiet walk and we arrived at dark, finding a hotel to relax in that night.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 40: December 2, 2010

Santiago Pilgrim's Mass Day

Forty days of walking and we'd come out of the forest. We did not know of Pilgrim's Mass until we arrived. Each day at twelve and six. After transferring to the beautiful hotel up above the capital, we quickly got our coffees and headed to mass. It felt like commencement. In the same way, we were done, but this ritual would pass us through to what was next.

The bells chimed as we scampered in at the last moments. Of course the benches were filled and it would have been easy to have just stood for it on the sidelines, but I was intent on sitting—we'd walked!—and we found our way to some space. 

It was here we sat amongst the pilgrims and listened to the sounds of Spanish with pieces of meaning flashing amongst the incomprehensibility. The real meaning happening at just the humility of seeing sundry pilgrims gathered together, no matter their appearance. Among those was Antonio! After we were released and had watched the dramatic incense burner fly back and forth across the room, I reached out and hugged Antonio.

He looked so humbled, this professor; so happy. The three of us made our way together into the streets to a restaurant where we sat down and had one of our finest meals yet and really got to enjoy the company of each other.

We said goodbye for what we knew would likely be the last time on this trek. We saw no other pilgrims today except for the French-English couple from the Mesita, whom had just got back from Finisterre. We heard rumors that Michael had also been there at the same time and had bathed himself in the ocean before walking back, all sandy, to the bus to go home. We'd only missed Michael by a day from our arrival in Santiago.

Today we'd lounge in our hotel as the rain and later, snow fell outside in our beautiful, modern—and warm—hotel. It was the first real rest day—we'd earned some luxury and the extra comforts of the inn made all the difference. 

[caminochris]

Camino Day 39: December 1, 2010 Part 2

Arca O Pino (Pedrouzo) to Santiago: 20 km

We really wanted a private room to relax in today, following a recommendation, we ended up with a private room that overlooked the cathedral. As I looked out the window, there she was in her glory, and sheltered by a rainbow this early afternoon. It was the third rainbow since starting our walk and a confirmation of so many magical miracles along the way.

We moved fast to meet our friends who were entirely punctual for our 2 PM lunch celebration. And just as we were speaking with them, we ran into the couple from Cadiz as well. Both these pairs had walked before and the couple knew exactly where to eat and we'd join up to feast and celebrate together. We arranged to meet them in a few minutes as we accompanied Santiago and Pilar to their hotel. It was here we walked right into Ariel! It had been since day five when we shared wine and laughs late into the night with our Argentine friend. And Ariel had biked while we walked but somehow we'd arrived strangely on the same day.

We told him where we were staying, took pictures and headed to eat, planning on seeing him for dinner. Earlier we had run into the Finish woman from the Mesita, Anne-Margarette and also Liz from Australia at the Cathedral. In all, we'd now seen eight pilgrims today from along the way.

Lunch was full of seafood and wine and toasting. We learned of another hotel for the next day that our friend recommended. We headed towards the church now with Santiago and Pilar and walked through the procession to touch Santiago's head and step into his tomb for a prayer. A very beautiful completion. This was a special holy year where the portal de perdon (door of forgiveness) was open. There were pilgrims everywhere, the whole city was full of them. My feeling was to step back and be grateful for all the time we had given ourselves to get here—and the personal significance that was ours alone amongst the crowd of pilgrims. We walked here. It took time—and pain. Arriving in Santiago by foot left a rich flavor that we had earned.

We'd scheduled a visit for dinner again with the brother and sister, along with Ariel. More seafood, wine and laughs that just extended itself as we all returned to the hostel, where Ariel was also staying at again. And here, like the first night, the two of us drank and talked and laughed way into the night as the pilgrims around us slept.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 39: December 1, 2010

Arca O Pino (Pedrouzo) to Santiago: 20 km

The dramatic and beautiful walk into Santiago was a blessed day of miracles. Not having a reputation as morning pilgrims, today we awoke quite early in beautiful anticipation. I had been meditating along the way almost daily with the rosary beads in a Buddhist fashion. Each breath inward would take me to the next bead. I would allow the presence and power of that moment to be acknowledged, not expressing preference for the next bead, nor the ending of the beads, when I reached the end I would turn them around and continue the cycle.

Each step, each breath was just as poignant as the next. That was my practice. Today we would walk into Santiago and "complete" a cycle of some sort. Symbolic and real; real also in that at completion, I already knew the next pathway was already in seed form. We would still be walking to Finisterre for one, but also we would step from the cathedral to the next moment that sought out a new goal—eating, seeking shelter and celebration.

This morning we had our coffee completely in the dark. We had our goal and our appointment for two for lunch. We actually left before many of the other pilgrims. We started out walking in the early dawn with the emerging colors of the morning. It would be a clear day in contrast to the day before with the rain. We would be blessed with a rainless day in Santiago.

It was a day to be quiet and contemplate; a day of mounting anticipation. We hadn't really seen what the cathedral looked like, nor really, what Santiago would mean, what we would do there, and such. We simply knew this was the pilgrim's destination.

Coming into the outskirts of town, we turned the corner and ran into Alberto walking our way. It happened so suddenly! We hadn't seen him since before the wind and snow storm in the town of Astorga and here he was on his way, walking away from the center of town to the airport to fly home! Alberto! It really was a homecoming. He shared a bit of when he'd arrived in town, his time with Michael and other friends. He even shared that Michael had met someone along the way that he was very excited about.

There was so much focus this day with an clear meeting time ahead. We saw no reason to stop for lunch since we'd celebrate with lunch with our new friends, so we just kept walking, though I had to stop to adjust my socks in the Santiago outskirts, a first since the first days. I felt a slight ache in my foot that was building upon a blister. I was tired—damn tired—from the day and the previous 38 days.

We entered through the suburbs and just kept on our way, anticipating the cathedral to emerge, but at each turn, it was still in the distance. We ran into our Korean friend from a few days back just shipping his things at the post office for his next trip. 

Finally we turned a corner and looked down to glimpse the cathedral in the distance. It was exciting. The city was alive on this day. We continued until the cathedral, from behind was exposed, but still pressed on, passing under a tunnel structure, where bagpipes played. We walked faster until we arrived in the western plaza and looked up to the glorious facade of the cathedral shining itself back upon us.

Tears flowed at the sudden halting of our pace, with backpacks still on, with a glorious hug as we saw that, step by step, we'd reached our goal. A timeless moment.

It wasn't long before we noticed pilgrims all around, ones we recognized, new ones. We took pictures together and we asked what we were suggested to do next and were told to get in line and get the Compestela Certificate. We walked right upstairs without a line and I stepped right up.

I enthusiastically emitted: "He llegado"—I've arrived!"

The administrator looked up, not humored by my declaration. I actually just stood there no knowing what to do until she finally asked for my passport—my camino passport with the stamps going back to France. We were presented our Compestellas and walked out, graduates!

And the next thing? Get these backpacks off!

[caminochris]

Camino Day 38: November 30, 2010

Arzua to Arca O Pino (Pedrouzo): 19 km

This was the day before arrival into Santiago. This we knew with clarity. We would arrive on December 1st—which had a fitting feeling to it. A mark of a new month.

This was a walk through forests. We headed out early in the morning. It was dark as we had breakfast with Antonio in the local bar, where he visited with the barmaid as she made tostados on a large iron flat.

We encountered the Brazilian we'd met clear back in Ponferrada—she was now walking with an Italian friend. Antonio, being the charmer, engaged the two and another pilgrim we encountered. We pressed on and told him we'd see him on arrival. It was the first day we'd used our ponchos in Galicia as the rain just poured and poured.

We made excellent time and when we saw an inn, we quickly decided to warm up to some amazing fried fish and Caldo Gallego, the signature soup of Galicia. This inn provided such comfort with its fireplace and noon-time activity.

As I look at the guidebook, I see the drops on today's page. It rained very hard. It had times of stopping, such that the ponchos went off, and then right back at it.

Antonio told us which albergue to meet up at. This private facility was run by a very kind man. Here we hung our wet clothes to dry and I warmed up in my sleeping bag and then, with the computer there, made my first calls using my VOIP. It felt so strange to tell my mom and dad that I'd be arriving in Santiago the next day. Something that had so little meaning for an outsider.

Oh, Antonio, the charmer. At the bar before dinner, he complemented every woman that passed and it got us all kinds of extra gifts of pinchos (little snacks). He retired early, but here was Pilar and Santiago again at the bar. We stood and drank and joked and shared pictures and stories. 

All would be arriving in Santiago tomorrow. We decided right there to meet up for a celebratory meeting. How about two? That seemed logical enough as we only had 20 kilometers to go. We had a date!

[caminochris]

Camino Day 37: November 29, 2010

Melide to Arzua: 13 km

It was cold. That we knew. The walls of the hotel with it's radiator we'd paid for in the hopes of heat, could not combat the cold in the rock building. The hotel was run by a cute older couple that had a restaurant/cafe on the bottom floor. As we stepped out this morning, they waved from the window. We were desperate for warmth having miserably slept all night! Please. We knew we'd not get anything better in their cafe, and at the same time, we decided we'd say thanks for their hospitality, so we stepped in.

We were offered to have breakfast made. This was no day for a cold continental breakfast. No, we sought out something warm. They offered soup. We said yes. So we sat in front of our steamy coffees and waited for some steamy soup and in a glance, we realized being still as bundled up as we were outside, that we could see our breath here in this restaurant—a first in my life! We could only laugh at everything and enjoy a big pot of soup.

With the cities being located as they were, we would only do about half a day's walk in distance. We arrived in Arzua still in the afternoon and enrolled in the municipal albergue. It had a factory feeling—rooms and rooms of bunks, but at this time, there were just a few pilgrims that all shared the same drab room. A Korean and Japanese man and woman; a couple of other Spaniards. We'd said goodbye to Antonio the night before, but of course who should we find, but Antonio too!

The bathroom/shower facilities were co-ed. Normally a shower without a shower screen would have be a little strange, but co-ed! Antonio laughed as he'd stayed in this same place four years earlier which hadn't changed at all. I actually watched the door for him as he showered and he did the same for me such that nobody else would come through the bathroom.

We attended a little mass with Antonio, followed by beers and finally dinner. Here we found the Korean and Japanese dining. They were cute and it looked like a romance was budding—he spoke Japanese! It was here we met also met our neighbors and the adjacent table, Pilar and Santiago. A brother and sister couple from Madrid, they proved to be relaxed and very social and spoke only Spanish. We toasted a few drinks and I thoroughly enjoyed Santiago's humor! More would come of our new Spanish friends.

[caminochris]

 Camino Day 36: November 28, 2010 Pt. 2

Palas de Rei to Melide: 15 km

Sometimes things don't go as planned, but go so much better that could possibly be planned. We met Antonio for breakfast with abundant coffee and tostados (toasted bread). He proposed as we were in the famous cheese city, that we take a look in the grocery store where we found the round cheese the shape of a breast, hence the name—if I could only remember what it was. This white cheese is rich and lovely to the taste. We bought a circle's worth and split it.

On this cold day, frost covered the trees and flowers like snow. Antonio sang, he joked, told stories. This was his second walk along the Camino, like many of the Spanish we'd met at this time. In fact, Spanish began to dominate our experience. I remember that at the beginning, I'd never expected to see at Spaniard along the way. I think I felt this in San Sebastian where there was such a proper expression to them as a whole, that the humility required to be a pilgrim would not manifest. But here were so many. Antonio was from Burgos, but only later did we learn that was where he was from; he lived in the Canary Islands (a part of Spain off of Africa). In fact he was a professor of geology. He had a long time girlfriend there he called his paraja (partner or pair). I liked that.

Because he was in the know, he told us we had to stop at the next major city for a lunch of seafood, specifically octopus. It was a Sunday and the city was lively with a major marketplace. He guided us down the main street to an inconspicuous little restaurant. We walked in and were greeted warmly by the locals—who raised their glass to us.

Here we ate of this hearty meal that also included shell fish of all kinds. When done, we went to pay and discovered that the meal was practically free. It turns out the men at the bar treated us, as pilgrims, to this beautiful meal.

Ah, with bellies full, and the air cold, the decision was made then and there just to stay the night. We met back up with Antonio in the early evening, who took us to the church where we watched bagpipes play by the local teens. An ancestral memory arose in me in the beauty of the hall where these young people played with pride. Galicia was growing on me in dear fondness.

It was going to be a cold night, one of the coldest. The hotel's heat made not a difference with it's radiator just below the window and even the wall facing the inside of the hotel was running with condensation, feeling like a glass of coca-cola to the touch.

[caminochris]

Camino Day 36: November 28, 2010

Palas de Rei to Melide

A surprisingly short walk on a cold day, warmed by our new friend and famous octopus.