Saturday, May 31, 2008
The Long Hard Road
After a lot of persuasion from an Irish lady, I took a 20km bus ride to Viana. It was truly heavenly. What is so wrong with the automobile? The ride was soft and luxuriant and cost only 1.60 euros. At various points of the road, I could look out the window at all the struggling pilgrims on the muddy, slippery paths.
My knee was so painful last night, because of my heavier pack, so I decided to take it easy today. I initially felt guilty, and considered taking the bus back to Los Arcos to do the astuak walking, until I saw the freezing, rain drenched pilgrims arriving at the albergue. I decided against such a move.
Tonight I will sleep in the lower section of a 3-tiered bunk bed that I didn't have to fight for. There will be a scramble for beds tonight though, as there are only 54 beds available. Already a wet pilgrim has arrived and has been turned away.
My Irish friends visited a 'medico' as More's legs had swollen up, dreadfully, followed by a redness. The attending doctor, said that he couldn't help her, and that he believed it to be a sunburn or tendinitis. I didn't agree with his diagnoses, nor did More. I was, however, impressed with the displayed posters which promoted breast feeding. As usual, I photographed them. I was also a little worried about my blood pressure as yesterday, it was elevated, when checked by 'a friend of the pilgrims', in his caravan, by the roadside. Yesterday was a long, hot lonely road and I was about to call it quits.
Most people seem to really love this pilgrimage. Many, not having completed this trip, are. I can't say that I love it, as it's been very difficult. I may see the benefits at a later date. I keep hearing this quote "There ain't no ship that's going to take you away from yourself". I know that that is not an accurate rendition of the quote, but you can see what it's meant to portray.
My knee was so painful last night, because of my heavier pack, so I decided to take it easy today. I initially felt guilty, and considered taking the bus back to Los Arcos to do the astuak walking, until I saw the freezing, rain drenched pilgrims arriving at the albergue. I decided against such a move.
Tonight I will sleep in the lower section of a 3-tiered bunk bed that I didn't have to fight for. There will be a scramble for beds tonight though, as there are only 54 beds available. Already a wet pilgrim has arrived and has been turned away.
My Irish friends visited a 'medico' as More's legs had swollen up, dreadfully, followed by a redness. The attending doctor, said that he couldn't help her, and that he believed it to be a sunburn or tendinitis. I didn't agree with his diagnoses, nor did More. I was, however, impressed with the displayed posters which promoted breast feeding. As usual, I photographed them. I was also a little worried about my blood pressure as yesterday, it was elevated, when checked by 'a friend of the pilgrims', in his caravan, by the roadside. Yesterday was a long, hot lonely road and I was about to call it quits.
Most people seem to really love this pilgrimage. Many, not having completed this trip, are. I can't say that I love it, as it's been very difficult. I may see the benefits at a later date. I keep hearing this quote "There ain't no ship that's going to take you away from yourself". I know that that is not an accurate rendition of the quote, but you can see what it's meant to portray.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
This is the Camino
On the Camino, I spent the first two days solo, walking up the Pyrenees, that is 1442 meters up from St. Jean Pied de Port to Col Lepoeder. There were many pilgrims on the road, whom I spoke with at times.
At Hunto I forgot my poles and had to back track, and thereafter used my 'cbs' method to remember (camera, bag, poles). Being a nurse, I even checked my pulse during the climb, and surprisingly, it was OK. Today while climbing, I realized that I could take the hills fairly effortlessly and could easily hold a conversation while walking. How did this happen? My toes however, are a different story, after an hour or two of walking, they really start to pain, so I stop, remove my boots and socks, give them a rest, and replace my socks with new ones. I've been walking 8-10 hours a day. Some of it is pretty difficult, with miles and miles of up and down slippery rocks and soupy mud. I had no idea that there would be so much mud.
The Pyrenees are extremely beautiful, beyond any description. Soaring eagles, buzzards, hawks and other birds I'm unable to name were seen. I saw a shepherd with his sheep dogs, horses, and countless sheep wearing bells. The sound of them ringing gave the whole scene a lovely atmosphere.
For the past two days, I've been walking with a 60 year old Scottish woman. She too is a nurse, but has one big problem: a huge 'Carrix' cart, similar to what the Cree(?) used to transport heavy loads behind horses. This cart weighs 17.6 kg while empty and 21.8 loaded. Janice has been having it transported to albergues etc. but plans to download tomorrow and with a harness will pull it all the way to Santiago. When I first met Janice, I helped her pull the cart up a hill, but soon handed it back to her. I think that she will be going her own way tomorrow.
We walked 21km today. I'm considering taking it a little easier, and perhaps staying in Pamploma a day. After 2 days of walking I spent my second night in a 120 bed albergue in Roncesvalles. We pilgrims were in 60 ancient bunk beds, which creaked every time you moved. I wasn't sure that I could climb up to mine without a ladder but managed just fine. During the night there was a continuous parade of people going to the washroom and lots of snoring. With burning feet and all the commotion, I slept two hours.
On May 24th, I took the steep descent to Roncesvalles alone, and was overtaken by a violent storm (thunder, lightening, hail, wind). While struggling over slippery rocks and mud, the thought came to my mind that I might die alone in that beastly place or even fall and break something. I survived.
The descent to Zubiri was almost a complete replica of the descent to Roncesvalles, only more violent, with a huge torrent of water rushing down the pathway in front of us, not unlike a flash flood. This time I felt less alone though, as the Scottish woman walked with me. When we arrived at the albergue, soaked and stunned, we were greeted with "completo", and were driven away at 100km/hr in a car with none functioning windshield wipers, and deposited in a hostel.
Have no expectations. Your knees may be better than your feet.
At Hunto I forgot my poles and had to back track, and thereafter used my 'cbs' method to remember (camera, bag, poles). Being a nurse, I even checked my pulse during the climb, and surprisingly, it was OK. Today while climbing, I realized that I could take the hills fairly effortlessly and could easily hold a conversation while walking. How did this happen? My toes however, are a different story, after an hour or two of walking, they really start to pain, so I stop, remove my boots and socks, give them a rest, and replace my socks with new ones. I've been walking 8-10 hours a day. Some of it is pretty difficult, with miles and miles of up and down slippery rocks and soupy mud. I had no idea that there would be so much mud.
The Pyrenees are extremely beautiful, beyond any description. Soaring eagles, buzzards, hawks and other birds I'm unable to name were seen. I saw a shepherd with his sheep dogs, horses, and countless sheep wearing bells. The sound of them ringing gave the whole scene a lovely atmosphere.
For the past two days, I've been walking with a 60 year old Scottish woman. She too is a nurse, but has one big problem: a huge 'Carrix' cart, similar to what the Cree(?) used to transport heavy loads behind horses. This cart weighs 17.6 kg while empty and 21.8 loaded. Janice has been having it transported to albergues etc. but plans to download tomorrow and with a harness will pull it all the way to Santiago. When I first met Janice, I helped her pull the cart up a hill, but soon handed it back to her. I think that she will be going her own way tomorrow.
We walked 21km today. I'm considering taking it a little easier, and perhaps staying in Pamploma a day. After 2 days of walking I spent my second night in a 120 bed albergue in Roncesvalles. We pilgrims were in 60 ancient bunk beds, which creaked every time you moved. I wasn't sure that I could climb up to mine without a ladder but managed just fine. During the night there was a continuous parade of people going to the washroom and lots of snoring. With burning feet and all the commotion, I slept two hours.
On May 24th, I took the steep descent to Roncesvalles alone, and was overtaken by a violent storm (thunder, lightening, hail, wind). While struggling over slippery rocks and mud, the thought came to my mind that I might die alone in that beastly place or even fall and break something. I survived.
The descent to Zubiri was almost a complete replica of the descent to Roncesvalles, only more violent, with a huge torrent of water rushing down the pathway in front of us, not unlike a flash flood. This time I felt less alone though, as the Scottish woman walked with me. When we arrived at the albergue, soaked and stunned, we were greeted with "completo", and were driven away at 100km/hr in a car with none functioning windshield wipers, and deposited in a hostel.
Have no expectations. Your knees may be better than your feet.
Monday, May 26, 2008
The Unpilgrim
After spending 10 days in Paris I took a long ride on the fast train to Bayonne, where I met a couple of English women and an Australian, heading towards St. Jean Pied de Port. They were anxious to begin their pilgrimage, and before I knew it there was a whole bus load of pilgrims. They all seemed so fit, and were wearing all the right clothes, especially the nylon zip-off pants. Mine were my old navy 'villagers', the kind with elastic waists, that old ladies wear when their waists match their busts. My tops were cotton too, not the self wicking ones that the pilgrims wore. On my feet were sandals, but I knew that deep within my bag, stood a pair of German boots that could match any on the Camino. They had a worn look too, because I'd walked in them over a couple months.
I booking in at a hotel, I visited the Albergue which only compounded the feeling of separateness. All the pilgrims, seated around a large table were eating, drinking and laughing. They were having a good time. Finally, unable to tolerate the isolation any longer I walked to the pilgrims office and in broken French attempted to relate my fears of carrying my heavy backpack over the Pyrenees.
....to be continued.
I booking in at a hotel, I visited the Albergue which only compounded the feeling of separateness. All the pilgrims, seated around a large table were eating, drinking and laughing. They were having a good time. Finally, unable to tolerate the isolation any longer I walked to the pilgrims office and in broken French attempted to relate my fears of carrying my heavy backpack over the Pyrenees.
....to be continued.
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