One little experience I haven't noted regarding this Camino was a problem I encountered back in August. I was noticing soreness in my hips when I bent over. Brushing my teeth or washing my face became very painful. Soon anything but sitting was nearly horribly taxing. I couldn't decide if walking or lying down was more painful.
The pain began moving from the back of my hips to the front of my leg.
In all of this, I was moving from the US to England. I'd ended one health care plan and not yet arrived to my new one. For once, a plane ride was a relief. Sitting was the least pain off all.
I didn't need to move any boxes. They were all sititng in my flat when I arrived. Bit by bit, I unpacked. Shopping in my little town had to all be on foot. I had to walk to work. I was relieved when I finally could just sit at work.
The pain had moved down to the top of my calf and down into my foot. My foot began to flop like a flat tire. This is how I spent my September.
I prayed. I let my friend know our trip was at risk. How could I walk the camino when walking to work was painful and sounded liked a sea lyon's flipper? I couldn't even wear my boots as my foot didn't want to bend enough allow me to tie it. I booked my tickets anyway, figuring it that being in the UK, the financial loss would be relatively small if I couldn't go and I truly had faith, that somehow, I'd make it.
I "felt" I needed to be working my back more. I needed to get my foot to bend. I needed to fight the pain, without ibuprophen and aspirin. I had insurance, but not my National Insurance Number. I didn't have enough energy to try to navigate the system.
Every morning and everynight I did "mini" yoga. I overdid it at one point and lost ground. I focused on getting my hips and back flexible again, straightening my leg and getting my foot to have some range of motion again.
Slowly, but surely, I increased my speed and reduced my the "flop". I began to walk some distances. It wore me out and often set me back. But each setback allowed me a little more gain.
Now you know why walking into Santiago de Compostela that last day was so important to me.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Walking Teams
I heard the sweetest story. A man and his wife were doing the Camino together. They had met Joop before I met up with him in Redondela and they were part of the group that I met in the plaza upon my arrival. He said he said they both had different athletic abilities. They'd done a trial trip that allowed them to determine the necessities they needed to bring and how to accomodate their different walking speeds and endurances.
He was much taller and walked much faster than she did. For the trip he carried more than half of their items, thus taking on a bigger portion of the weight and he walked behind her, allowing her to set the pace of the trip. This combination freed her up to walk faster and slowed him down so as not to not exceed or push her, thus providing a positive emotional experience for them both.
Smart couple.
He was much taller and walked much faster than she did. For the trip he carried more than half of their items, thus taking on a bigger portion of the weight and he walked behind her, allowing her to set the pace of the trip. This combination freed her up to walk faster and slowed him down so as not to not exceed or push her, thus providing a positive emotional experience for them both.
Smart couple.
Monday, November 08, 2010
26 Octobre, 2010. Santiago de Compostella Dos.
I arrived in Santiago de Compostela late Tuesday evening. My original intent, from the slowness and pain I experienced on Monday, was to taxi or bus from Padron to Santiago in the morning and meet my friend when he arrived.
Thinking about it later, I realized that much of my discomfort was mostly trying to figure out how to work out the logistics with my friend and that emotional toil was trumping up how my body was feeling. Stress is a great curtain for blocking a view of success. My shortcut commuting plan immediately followed when I learned that when I arrived in Padron later than my friend, and found him absent from the albergue , that he’d already seen all the sites listed in our guidebooks . I’m learning this while at the same time removing a plaster/bandaid that took the blistered top layer of skin off my entire pinky toe.
My friend woke me up at 5:30 on Tuesday saying he was starting to walk and that he’d left food in the kitchen for me to cook. I got up shortly after and went to the toilet and then the kitchen. I ate some fruit. I had no desire to cook, but left the food for other pilgrims that might want more fortification than they’d prepared for. I found myself packing fruit and the bread and cheese – for a taxi ride?
I’d dragged all my items and pack down from the sleeping area to the kitchen. I thought it best to put my boots on rather than to carry them separately. They didn’t hurt as I expected them to. I took my time gathering and packing and eating. Finally, all packed, I set out to find the bus station or taxi stand. I toyed with the idea of walking for a while, knowing Joop had a full day of walking ahead of him and that with wheels I could be there in a few minutes. I followed the arrows, consulted my directions, lost the arrows, asked questions and found myself at an empty taxi stand. The bus station was nowhere to be found, although I know I was very close to it. I didn’t pursue it. I gave myself a minute to collect my thoughts - I wasn’t ready to end my journey, I really wanted to walk for a bit. All the options were firing around in my head. I stepped off the main walkways, took a deep breath and asked God “what’s the plan for today?” As warm as a sunbeam and gentle as a breeze, the response was “walk”. So I did. I figured I’d find wheels the next town.
A few of the group that we’d met along the way passed me. They said “hello” and proceeded on.
I walked, alone with my thoughts. Since I now I knew I’d be walking alone, I immediately switched to my practice of thinking about the people in my life. I’d not had a chance to do this yet, this trip. It was so cathartic last time and I’d been longing for the solitude to do so again. I thought about each of my lovely daughters, my son in law and then my grandchildren. One by one, everyone got my full attention. Next came my present and “lost” friends, my lost loves, Robert, my precious sister in laws, my mother in law and each of my Camino friends. I spent time thinking of my relatives and friends who had died. This long list of angels took me out of Padron and into the countryside.
I walked through many breathtaking hamlets and eucalyptus forests. I saw roses and horreos everywhere I looked. My feet hurt but I was smiling. I cried from the velocity of happiness coursing through me. I was walking in magnificent Galicia AGAIN! The air was cool, the sky bright! I wished my friend could appreciate the joy I was feeling. I took pictures of snails and hawks, fall leaves and the ever-changing geography of the Camino. I felt so free.
The hamlets and villages offered me no bus services and nary a taxi was to be spotted.
I hobbled along and to the Teo albergue. I really didn’t want to call it a day and I wanted to get to Santiago to meet Joop. I was proud I’d made it that far, but thought I should stop. I could take the last “little” bit the next day. I had time. I could still see Joop before he went home. Not exactly according to plan, but doable. I’d sent my friend a text saying I’d probably stay there.
The albergue was empty. I found an unlocked door. A radio was playing. I knew at some point a hospitalero would come by, but I didn’t know when. I used the toilet, refilled my water bottle. Still no one. I rested a bit and then started working on my feet. I debated whether to press on or hunker down. Chances were, so close to Santiago, with so few pilgrims on the road and knowing every one of my “regulars” were ahead of me there wouldn’t be any other pilgrims staying there. I did not want to stay in an unlocked albergue, in an isolated area, in a foreign country, alone. I sent another text saying I wasn’t sure what I’d do next.
Maybe I could find a taxi in town. There was no town per se. On the other side of Teo, there was a man and his grandchild out walking. I asked him to call a taxi for me. He declined.
I began my cranky dialog to God. “I recognize this feeling of agony and defeat. I felt it before. And here I am again. I did this why? I’m tired. My feet hurt. I’m on vacation this time, not a real pilgrimage. I just ate the last of my food, and yeah I just saw the Cathedral and it’s all the way past that valley. Yeah, I know I’ve chanted a thousand times that if I can see it I can make it, even to other pilgrims to help them, but you know what, maybe I don’t wanna this time. “ He’d already talked to me once this day….and I expected him to respond to that tirade?
A young couple headed toward me and passed me. They stopped to ask a woman which of the two ways offered was the quickest. One was quicker and harder, the other longer but easier. The longer part didn’t appeal to me nor did the harder. When I asked which way would get me a taxi, they all said “noooooo”, not now”! We all chose the longer way and the couple offered to walk with me, but I was in the step by step mode now. I told them to go on even though I was a bit worried about walking through a dark forest with dusk approaching.
I received a reward immediately. A little crackling sound brought a tiny vole from the underbrush. He ambled toward my boot and stopped. I reached for my camera. He waited. I took his picture, thanked him for his presence and carefully stepped over him and went on my way.
I still had a couple of cities to maneuver before I would get to the Cathedral. My math had said it would be 8 or 8:30 before I made it. My friend had arrived hours earlier. I sent another text. I’d been expecting the waiting final arrival text from him or maybe a note asking me how I was faring.
Once in Santiago, the streets become very busy and the arrows are harder to keep track of. Post siesta, it gets very congested with commuters leaving and the locals convening. The closer one gets to the Cathedral, the harder it due to the ancient streets following the natural geography. You know the cathedral is “up”. Which “up” is the right “up”?
I had been advised after the park and crossing the street, the street in front of me would lead me directly to the Cathedral. I crossed the street and found I had three choices in front of me, two which were more likely candidates, but still no spires. The warm evening and multiple restaurants with outside seating had the evening party crowds packing into the area. I asked a gentleman which way I needed to go. He proceeded to lead me, stopping every few seconds allowing me to squeeze myself and my securely attached pack, through the throngs of people. After a bit he pointed at the illuminated spire. I thanked him, hugged him and with tears in my eyes, and I swear, jet propulsion out the bottom of my pack, headed up the hill. I was sobbing. I had done what I had no faith in being able to do.
A woman shop owner was standing outside smoking. She grabbed me smiling, laughing and crying too. Kissed me on the forehead, stared into my eyes, hugged me fiercely, twirled me around and have me a push to start me back up the hill.
I was now one of those stumbling, smiling, bawling pilgrims. I’d done over 27 km that day when I didn’t believe I had it in me to do a single step.
Knowing the rest of the way like the back of my hand, gallimped my way to the plaza, down the stairs, around the back to view the magnificent lighted Cathedral from the front. I was there just a tiny bit after eight. I wanted to see Joop and hear about his arrival and tell him about my magnificent day. One of the gals that I’d seen every day during our walk caught me as I entered the big plaza. She saw me crying and commented on my late arrival. “You walked all of it?!” “You did it!” And then she led me to the group we’d been crisscrossing with all week.
I figured Joop was with them. He wasn’t, but they had seen him after he’d arrived. He’d told them I was coming by bus. I tried calling him and messaged him again. The group began undoing my pack and relieving me of all things I’d been carrying. They asked if I wanted to join them for dinner. We had a wonderful celebration meal. Still no message from Joop.
Joop and I had planned to share the cost of lodging once we arrived in Santiago. I didn’t know where he was and there were literally hundreds of places surrounding the Cathedral commercial and private, where he might be. I wasn’t sure what to do next. My friends were worried for me.
Thomas, the you-take-my-breath-way handsome Austrian, said he had two beds in his place, to please consider staying with him. Which I did. And the answer to the question I know you’re all dying to ask out loud is, no, he didn’t snore.
We slept until it was full daylight, shared a coffee con leche and then headed off to do our own things. I headed to the Pilgrim’s Mass. This time I was free to accept Communion (I wasn’t on my last journey) – it was very special for me. Joop found me in the Church and greeted me with a fierce hug.
After Mass I headed to the line/queue for hugging the Saint James statue that resides on the alter and for viewing his tomb. This was a holy year due to his Saint’s Day falling on a Sunday (July 25) and they had opened the special Holy door on January 1. The queue/line snaked around the plaza and I chose to wait it out. I had arrived so late the day before, the entrance had already closed. I still needed to visit the Pilgrim’s office for my official Cathedral sello/stamp in my Pilgrim’s credential. Joop stood with me for awhile, but decided to run some errands instead of going in. He’d, unsurprisingly, done all the “rituals” upon his own arrival the preceding day.
He briefly asked if I’d found a place to stay the night before. He’d stayed at the albergue. I never thought of looking for him there as that was the one place he said he wouldn’t stay in Santiago. He hadn’t received my messages because he hadn’t looked for them. He’d gone off with a local friend for the evening before and was preparing to do so again. Hasta lavista baby.
I made reservations for my own place, retrieved my pack, thanked Thomas and the others and made my way back to the “hill” to drink in as much of Santiago de Compostela as this Pilgrim could possibly do.
Thinking about it later, I realized that much of my discomfort was mostly trying to figure out how to work out the logistics with my friend and that emotional toil was trumping up how my body was feeling. Stress is a great curtain for blocking a view of success. My shortcut commuting plan immediately followed when I learned that when I arrived in Padron later than my friend, and found him absent from the albergue , that he’d already seen all the sites listed in our guidebooks . I’m learning this while at the same time removing a plaster/bandaid that took the blistered top layer of skin off my entire pinky toe.
My friend woke me up at 5:30 on Tuesday saying he was starting to walk and that he’d left food in the kitchen for me to cook. I got up shortly after and went to the toilet and then the kitchen. I ate some fruit. I had no desire to cook, but left the food for other pilgrims that might want more fortification than they’d prepared for. I found myself packing fruit and the bread and cheese – for a taxi ride?
I’d dragged all my items and pack down from the sleeping area to the kitchen. I thought it best to put my boots on rather than to carry them separately. They didn’t hurt as I expected them to. I took my time gathering and packing and eating. Finally, all packed, I set out to find the bus station or taxi stand. I toyed with the idea of walking for a while, knowing Joop had a full day of walking ahead of him and that with wheels I could be there in a few minutes. I followed the arrows, consulted my directions, lost the arrows, asked questions and found myself at an empty taxi stand. The bus station was nowhere to be found, although I know I was very close to it. I didn’t pursue it. I gave myself a minute to collect my thoughts - I wasn’t ready to end my journey, I really wanted to walk for a bit. All the options were firing around in my head. I stepped off the main walkways, took a deep breath and asked God “what’s the plan for today?” As warm as a sunbeam and gentle as a breeze, the response was “walk”. So I did. I figured I’d find wheels the next town.
A few of the group that we’d met along the way passed me. They said “hello” and proceeded on.
I walked, alone with my thoughts. Since I now I knew I’d be walking alone, I immediately switched to my practice of thinking about the people in my life. I’d not had a chance to do this yet, this trip. It was so cathartic last time and I’d been longing for the solitude to do so again. I thought about each of my lovely daughters, my son in law and then my grandchildren. One by one, everyone got my full attention. Next came my present and “lost” friends, my lost loves, Robert, my precious sister in laws, my mother in law and each of my Camino friends. I spent time thinking of my relatives and friends who had died. This long list of angels took me out of Padron and into the countryside.
I walked through many breathtaking hamlets and eucalyptus forests. I saw roses and horreos everywhere I looked. My feet hurt but I was smiling. I cried from the velocity of happiness coursing through me. I was walking in magnificent Galicia AGAIN! The air was cool, the sky bright! I wished my friend could appreciate the joy I was feeling. I took pictures of snails and hawks, fall leaves and the ever-changing geography of the Camino. I felt so free.
The hamlets and villages offered me no bus services and nary a taxi was to be spotted.
I hobbled along and to the Teo albergue. I really didn’t want to call it a day and I wanted to get to Santiago to meet Joop. I was proud I’d made it that far, but thought I should stop. I could take the last “little” bit the next day. I had time. I could still see Joop before he went home. Not exactly according to plan, but doable. I’d sent my friend a text saying I’d probably stay there.
The albergue was empty. I found an unlocked door. A radio was playing. I knew at some point a hospitalero would come by, but I didn’t know when. I used the toilet, refilled my water bottle. Still no one. I rested a bit and then started working on my feet. I debated whether to press on or hunker down. Chances were, so close to Santiago, with so few pilgrims on the road and knowing every one of my “regulars” were ahead of me there wouldn’t be any other pilgrims staying there. I did not want to stay in an unlocked albergue, in an isolated area, in a foreign country, alone. I sent another text saying I wasn’t sure what I’d do next.
Maybe I could find a taxi in town. There was no town per se. On the other side of Teo, there was a man and his grandchild out walking. I asked him to call a taxi for me. He declined.
I began my cranky dialog to God. “I recognize this feeling of agony and defeat. I felt it before. And here I am again. I did this why? I’m tired. My feet hurt. I’m on vacation this time, not a real pilgrimage. I just ate the last of my food, and yeah I just saw the Cathedral and it’s all the way past that valley. Yeah, I know I’ve chanted a thousand times that if I can see it I can make it, even to other pilgrims to help them, but you know what, maybe I don’t wanna this time. “ He’d already talked to me once this day….and I expected him to respond to that tirade?
A young couple headed toward me and passed me. They stopped to ask a woman which of the two ways offered was the quickest. One was quicker and harder, the other longer but easier. The longer part didn’t appeal to me nor did the harder. When I asked which way would get me a taxi, they all said “noooooo”, not now”! We all chose the longer way and the couple offered to walk with me, but I was in the step by step mode now. I told them to go on even though I was a bit worried about walking through a dark forest with dusk approaching.
I received a reward immediately. A little crackling sound brought a tiny vole from the underbrush. He ambled toward my boot and stopped. I reached for my camera. He waited. I took his picture, thanked him for his presence and carefully stepped over him and went on my way.
I still had a couple of cities to maneuver before I would get to the Cathedral. My math had said it would be 8 or 8:30 before I made it. My friend had arrived hours earlier. I sent another text. I’d been expecting the waiting final arrival text from him or maybe a note asking me how I was faring.
Once in Santiago, the streets become very busy and the arrows are harder to keep track of. Post siesta, it gets very congested with commuters leaving and the locals convening. The closer one gets to the Cathedral, the harder it due to the ancient streets following the natural geography. You know the cathedral is “up”. Which “up” is the right “up”?
I had been advised after the park and crossing the street, the street in front of me would lead me directly to the Cathedral. I crossed the street and found I had three choices in front of me, two which were more likely candidates, but still no spires. The warm evening and multiple restaurants with outside seating had the evening party crowds packing into the area. I asked a gentleman which way I needed to go. He proceeded to lead me, stopping every few seconds allowing me to squeeze myself and my securely attached pack, through the throngs of people. After a bit he pointed at the illuminated spire. I thanked him, hugged him and with tears in my eyes, and I swear, jet propulsion out the bottom of my pack, headed up the hill. I was sobbing. I had done what I had no faith in being able to do.
A woman shop owner was standing outside smoking. She grabbed me smiling, laughing and crying too. Kissed me on the forehead, stared into my eyes, hugged me fiercely, twirled me around and have me a push to start me back up the hill.
I was now one of those stumbling, smiling, bawling pilgrims. I’d done over 27 km that day when I didn’t believe I had it in me to do a single step.
Knowing the rest of the way like the back of my hand, gallimped my way to the plaza, down the stairs, around the back to view the magnificent lighted Cathedral from the front. I was there just a tiny bit after eight. I wanted to see Joop and hear about his arrival and tell him about my magnificent day. One of the gals that I’d seen every day during our walk caught me as I entered the big plaza. She saw me crying and commented on my late arrival. “You walked all of it?!” “You did it!” And then she led me to the group we’d been crisscrossing with all week.
I figured Joop was with them. He wasn’t, but they had seen him after he’d arrived. He’d told them I was coming by bus. I tried calling him and messaged him again. The group began undoing my pack and relieving me of all things I’d been carrying. They asked if I wanted to join them for dinner. We had a wonderful celebration meal. Still no message from Joop.
Joop and I had planned to share the cost of lodging once we arrived in Santiago. I didn’t know where he was and there were literally hundreds of places surrounding the Cathedral commercial and private, where he might be. I wasn’t sure what to do next. My friends were worried for me.
Thomas, the you-take-my-breath-way handsome Austrian, said he had two beds in his place, to please consider staying with him. Which I did. And the answer to the question I know you’re all dying to ask out loud is, no, he didn’t snore.
We slept until it was full daylight, shared a coffee con leche and then headed off to do our own things. I headed to the Pilgrim’s Mass. This time I was free to accept Communion (I wasn’t on my last journey) – it was very special for me. Joop found me in the Church and greeted me with a fierce hug.
After Mass I headed to the line/queue for hugging the Saint James statue that resides on the alter and for viewing his tomb. This was a holy year due to his Saint’s Day falling on a Sunday (July 25) and they had opened the special Holy door on January 1. The queue/line snaked around the plaza and I chose to wait it out. I had arrived so late the day before, the entrance had already closed. I still needed to visit the Pilgrim’s office for my official Cathedral sello/stamp in my Pilgrim’s credential. Joop stood with me for awhile, but decided to run some errands instead of going in. He’d, unsurprisingly, done all the “rituals” upon his own arrival the preceding day.
He briefly asked if I’d found a place to stay the night before. He’d stayed at the albergue. I never thought of looking for him there as that was the one place he said he wouldn’t stay in Santiago. He hadn’t received my messages because he hadn’t looked for them. He’d gone off with a local friend for the evening before and was preparing to do so again. Hasta lavista baby.
I made reservations for my own place, retrieved my pack, thanked Thomas and the others and made my way back to the “hill” to drink in as much of Santiago de Compostela as this Pilgrim could possibly do.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Crocs
I have to post this before I forget!
Three years ago, I hooked my baby blue crocks to the side of my pack and used them as pockets for daytime food and as a boot escape at night. People would stare at them and endlessly comment on them.
Teri the trendsetter.
With a pair of socks, they were prefect for wandering around the villages in the evening. At night, they were the perfect eyeglasses, flashlight/torch and potty paper case. Shoes and necessary servicio items for the night, tucked right under the bed.
This trip? 3/4 of the men and women I met up with had them in tow! Mine, this trip, were a perky pair of ruby pink mary janes. And they'll go with me again.
Three years ago, I hooked my baby blue crocks to the side of my pack and used them as pockets for daytime food and as a boot escape at night. People would stare at them and endlessly comment on them.
Teri the trendsetter.
With a pair of socks, they were prefect for wandering around the villages in the evening. At night, they were the perfect eyeglasses, flashlight/torch and potty paper case. Shoes and necessary servicio items for the night, tucked right under the bed.
This trip? 3/4 of the men and women I met up with had them in tow! Mine, this trip, were a perky pair of ruby pink mary janes. And they'll go with me again.
Posting Backwards
For the Portugues Route journey, I'm going to post backwards. Starting with my time in Santiago. I love it there and the weather was lovely (until the day I left).
Once arriving in Santiago, one is free to wander around and take in the Cathedral area or the city. I never seem to get out of the Cathedral area as the whole reason I'm there is to be in the presence of St. James. I like to wader the streets or sit on the steps of the plaza and watch new pilgrims stumble-run to to the church or the Pilgrims office.
The pilgrim's whole body tells a story. Darkly tanned and lean muscled, indicates they probably did all or most of Camino Frances. Crying (almost always with smiles) pilgrims tell me they have conquered many fears and perhaps sorrows during their journey. Some stride in with a confidence of having been there before. Some look as disconserted as the day they began their journey, knowing they think this is the end of their path.
Having been a pilgrim twice now, I know there are emotions that unique to each journey and emotions that are common to the pilgrimage itself. I welcome both. I've learned things about myself that I now know I can count on from day to day, pilgrimage to pilgrimage. I know if, no when, I do it again, I'll have a new experience too. The same emotions arise when discomfort presents itself and the unbounding joy of arrival is no less bright. I know the journey does not end in Santiago de Compostela. It is usally the beginning of figuring out how to get back again.
My facination with Spain and the people of the countryside is only growing. The Camino is a place I can shed my material world of professional protocol and verbal tapdancing and immerse myself in the world of universal human interaction. Many times I have encountered people who speak no English and with me barely able to order a sandwich the way I want it, but yet we manage to have a meaningful exchange. I have had tiny bent-over women, when greeted with Buenas Dias, stop and bless me. Which makes me cry, which makes them hug me more. In one of my next posts, I'll describe my arrival into Santiago and the special people who guided my way.
I visited the museum and a few of the many churches that are clustered around the Cathedral Plaza. One I visited at the same time of day that I had the last time, as the woman in the fee booth reminded me of closing time. I feel like I have a race with the clock each time, although I get to see it all. One memorable moment was that after asking permission, I was able to photograph the actual remains of St. James that are housed in the reliquary. I asked if I could as long as I didn't flash. I was allowed to take one. I am there, standing three feet from the remains of one of The Apostles. That Apostle knew and loved Jesus. Kind of like a friend of a friend feeling. It was warm, fuzzy and very overwhelming for me.
Part of my arrival post will also include the story of my first night of housing in Santiago. Some things didn't go as planned and some people I'd met on the Camino let me stay with them. A seemingly nice place to stay, but it gave new meaning to "good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite"!
The remainder of my time in Santiago de Compostela, I stayed in a pension. I thought I would miss staying in the little apartment type place Estella offered me last trip. But folks, I'm going to say that after all that hiking, the extra bucks and the soft sheets and shower with all the hot water I want, is my new treat. I like being near the Cathedral and now have my "place of choice".
Something I did on this trip was totally brilliant.....really. I bought a lapel pin, the Santiago cross. I pinned it on the front page of my credential. When the alburgues or pilgrim or museum, gave me any paper, I'd stick it on the inside of the credential and secure it with the back side pin. All of my special items are with my credential forever. No more lost stork feathers.
There's my post journey summary.
Once arriving in Santiago, one is free to wander around and take in the Cathedral area or the city. I never seem to get out of the Cathedral area as the whole reason I'm there is to be in the presence of St. James. I like to wader the streets or sit on the steps of the plaza and watch new pilgrims stumble-run to to the church or the Pilgrims office.
The pilgrim's whole body tells a story. Darkly tanned and lean muscled, indicates they probably did all or most of Camino Frances. Crying (almost always with smiles) pilgrims tell me they have conquered many fears and perhaps sorrows during their journey. Some stride in with a confidence of having been there before. Some look as disconserted as the day they began their journey, knowing they think this is the end of their path.
Having been a pilgrim twice now, I know there are emotions that unique to each journey and emotions that are common to the pilgrimage itself. I welcome both. I've learned things about myself that I now know I can count on from day to day, pilgrimage to pilgrimage. I know if, no when, I do it again, I'll have a new experience too. The same emotions arise when discomfort presents itself and the unbounding joy of arrival is no less bright. I know the journey does not end in Santiago de Compostela. It is usally the beginning of figuring out how to get back again.
My facination with Spain and the people of the countryside is only growing. The Camino is a place I can shed my material world of professional protocol and verbal tapdancing and immerse myself in the world of universal human interaction. Many times I have encountered people who speak no English and with me barely able to order a sandwich the way I want it, but yet we manage to have a meaningful exchange. I have had tiny bent-over women, when greeted with Buenas Dias, stop and bless me. Which makes me cry, which makes them hug me more. In one of my next posts, I'll describe my arrival into Santiago and the special people who guided my way.
I visited the museum and a few of the many churches that are clustered around the Cathedral Plaza. One I visited at the same time of day that I had the last time, as the woman in the fee booth reminded me of closing time. I feel like I have a race with the clock each time, although I get to see it all. One memorable moment was that after asking permission, I was able to photograph the actual remains of St. James that are housed in the reliquary. I asked if I could as long as I didn't flash. I was allowed to take one. I am there, standing three feet from the remains of one of The Apostles. That Apostle knew and loved Jesus. Kind of like a friend of a friend feeling. It was warm, fuzzy and very overwhelming for me.
Part of my arrival post will also include the story of my first night of housing in Santiago. Some things didn't go as planned and some people I'd met on the Camino let me stay with them. A seemingly nice place to stay, but it gave new meaning to "good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite"!
The remainder of my time in Santiago de Compostela, I stayed in a pension. I thought I would miss staying in the little apartment type place Estella offered me last trip. But folks, I'm going to say that after all that hiking, the extra bucks and the soft sheets and shower with all the hot water I want, is my new treat. I like being near the Cathedral and now have my "place of choice".
Something I did on this trip was totally brilliant.....really. I bought a lapel pin, the Santiago cross. I pinned it on the front page of my credential. When the alburgues or pilgrim or museum, gave me any paper, I'd stick it on the inside of the credential and secure it with the back side pin. All of my special items are with my credential forever. No more lost stork feathers.
There's my post journey summary.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
26 Octobre, 2010
I arrived in Santiago de Compostela after walking from Redondela via Camino Portuguese. I will do this route again, hopefully from Oporto or Lisbon. It was beatiful. The last 100km seemed to me much less commercial than the last 100 on the Camino Frances route. I will write and post pictures soon.
I had buen viaje!
I had buen viaje!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Manana: Santiago de Compostela Dos
♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ My pack is packed, it's ready to go. It's standing there, right by the door. It's waiting for 3am to come 'round. I'm leaving on a jet plane and then practically walking home again. ♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Gathering The Important Stuff
I still haven't packed my pack. My pile of goods to go this time, is very small. No doubts about weight or volume. I hate to, but I have to, check my pack. It exceeds the ever charging Ryan Air's length. That's OK too, because coming home I'll have room for cans tuna fish with vegetables, almond cookies, a nativity scene, etc.
The important stuff is taking my thoughts of family. friends, current and estranged, my loves, my losses, my triumphs and my hurts and tucking them in a space in my bag. As I walk, I contemplate all these wonderful people and events, focusing on each one for an hour or two. With each step happiness grows, pain diminishes. At the end of the journey is an unbelievable peace.
I love my life. I am grateful for all the splendid opportunities that I've been afforded. I have the most wonderful children. All of these great and wonderful gifts will be rejoiced. I will reflect and rejoice in my sorrows too. For if any of them were absent, the journey would have been different, today's destination would be altered.
Peace, namaste, joy.
The important stuff is taking my thoughts of family. friends, current and estranged, my loves, my losses, my triumphs and my hurts and tucking them in a space in my bag. As I walk, I contemplate all these wonderful people and events, focusing on each one for an hour or two. With each step happiness grows, pain diminishes. At the end of the journey is an unbelievable peace.
I love my life. I am grateful for all the splendid opportunities that I've been afforded. I have the most wonderful children. All of these great and wonderful gifts will be rejoiced. I will reflect and rejoice in my sorrows too. For if any of them were absent, the journey would have been different, today's destination would be altered.
Peace, namaste, joy.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Preparing For The Journey
Today, I went through all the things I'd gathered to take. When I have a major trip or event of some sort, I start gathering or listing things that I think I might need or need to do. As the time gets closer, I weed out what isn't really needed and review what is. Having done the camino before, I did a LOT of weeding. My pack is going to be totally managable. (Not that it wasn't before).
Today, whilst walking in England's crisp fall air, I realised that I needed a converter for my phone charger. Chances are, I won't need to charge my phone, but that's one of those things, I just don't take a chance with.
I'm debating about my Kindle. I will have plenty of time to read on the plane (not as much as last time -hahahahaha!) I HATE not having a book to read when I travel.
I stood in front of the mirror whilst wearing my pack. Oh my dear friend, I have missed you. I'm so glad that I spent the $$ on a good one before. It was like putting on a favorite glove today. My boots, bought earlier this year in Scotland, have become part of my feet. I look forward to hiking with them. I'm strapping my walking sticks to my pack this time. I'm taking two, but learnt last time that one is better. I may even leave one behind. I wish I could take the one from my last Camino, but it didn't bring it to England with me. Too valuable.
I found the route to meet up with my friend. A train ride will get me there quickly and cheaply. I'll be there before he is that day. I may walk to him just to get some hiking the first day. I may go straight to the alburgue and take a nap. Who knows?
So close. I'm so anxious. I'm so ready.
See you soon my dear Santiago.
Today, whilst walking in England's crisp fall air, I realised that I needed a converter for my phone charger. Chances are, I won't need to charge my phone, but that's one of those things, I just don't take a chance with.
I'm debating about my Kindle. I will have plenty of time to read on the plane (not as much as last time -hahahahaha!) I HATE not having a book to read when I travel.
I stood in front of the mirror whilst wearing my pack. Oh my dear friend, I have missed you. I'm so glad that I spent the $$ on a good one before. It was like putting on a favorite glove today. My boots, bought earlier this year in Scotland, have become part of my feet. I look forward to hiking with them. I'm strapping my walking sticks to my pack this time. I'm taking two, but learnt last time that one is better. I may even leave one behind. I wish I could take the one from my last Camino, but it didn't bring it to England with me. Too valuable.
I found the route to meet up with my friend. A train ride will get me there quickly and cheaply. I'll be there before he is that day. I may walk to him just to get some hiking the first day. I may go straight to the alburgue and take a nap. Who knows?
So close. I'm so anxious. I'm so ready.
See you soon my dear Santiago.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Camino on my mind
I leave a week from today to do a little Camino on the Portuguese Route. I'll meet up with Joop and walk for a few days with him.
I received my 2011 Camino Calendar.
Ready for nature. Ready for my heart to swell. Ready to be filled again.
I received my 2011 Camino Calendar.
Ready for nature. Ready for my heart to swell. Ready to be filled again.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
13 Days
In thirteen days my feet will touch the Camino once again. My body is electric thinking about it. I'm wondering if it will feel the same or different. Whether I'll feel all novice again or "experienced". Will walking with a friend enhance it, ruin it, or just be different? Will the bedbugs bite? Etc., etc.
The different season will be interesting to see.
The Camino changed me. I'm excited to experience it again. (And without two days flying!)
The different season will be interesting to see.
The Camino changed me. I'm excited to experience it again. (And without two days flying!)
Sunday, July 18, 2010
All Roads Lead to Santiago
While back in Utah, I found some time and inspiration to pull a piece together. It was not to be a Camino piece, but, it happened anyway. The theme went deeper and deeper and linked things further and futher into my past.
Teri Cuts and Pastes
The irony or coincidence (don't believe in that any more) packing for my move to England last week, I was going through saved boxes. I have a special mementos box that every now and then I stroll down memory lane with it. This stroll landed on a sub-package that had my pictures and souvinirs of Portugal in it. (It was before my scrapbooking time....one of these days.) In the bundle was a National Geographic map that Dwidget gave me before the trip....to Portugal. The map is of Portugal AND Spain. On the "cover" is a drawing of St. James/Santiago and many places that I passed during my Camino. It has all the places we visited in Portugal.
And I thought it all started in a bookstore in Seattle.....
Teri Cuts and Pastes
The irony or coincidence (don't believe in that any more) packing for my move to England last week, I was going through saved boxes. I have a special mementos box that every now and then I stroll down memory lane with it. This stroll landed on a sub-package that had my pictures and souvinirs of Portugal in it. (It was before my scrapbooking time....one of these days.) In the bundle was a National Geographic map that Dwidget gave me before the trip....to Portugal. The map is of Portugal AND Spain. On the "cover" is a drawing of St. James/Santiago and many places that I passed during my Camino. It has all the places we visited in Portugal.
And I thought it all started in a bookstore in Seattle.....
Saturday, June 19, 2010
All Roads Lead To Santiago
Once one has journeyed to Santiago de Compostella, you will most likely find that the journey never ends. You will find to, on later journeys that the Camino is never far from your periphery, as shown below.
King's College, Aberdeen, Scotland and Colchester Castle/Museum, Colchester, England.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
One Foot In Front Of The Other
Gerry and Lilly begin to finish their Camino on Friday. Gerry to finish his. Lilly to start and finish hers. His stride is so long, Lilly's going to have to have to wear roller skates! He'd find me in the morning, walk a few kilometres with me and then stride off into the sunrise.
He's written with his itinerary and to let me know the little feet will be with them.
I hope their path is lined with a million roses.
Blessings my dear friend. I will forever remember your kindness and the prayer card you so gently pressed into my hand that morning.
Buen Camino
He's written with his itinerary and to let me know the little feet will be with them.
I hope their path is lined with a million roses.
Blessings my dear friend. I will forever remember your kindness and the prayer card you so gently pressed into my hand that morning.
Buen Camino
Another Camino
Sometime this summer, I'll be embarking on another Camino. A short one.
Joop has a credential for me and we're going to do a short run from Amsterdam. It's nice to be so close to the Camino - a short flight and I'm there.
I don't know how long I'll be blessed with living in the UK/Europe, but I sure am enjoying it.
Every day is a Camino of sorts right now.
Buen Camino - where ever it may take you.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Celebrate1
Easter in a "foreign" church prompts me to post here rather than on my personal blog. This is a holy place and I feel it is better suited for here.
I participated in Mass in at the Cathedral in Brentwood, England. It was moving and hovers at the top of my list of memorable and moving (my girls getting baptised and my husband joining the Church bring special meanings to Easter too) category.
The priest, being English, tends to look so serious, but his Homilies are moving and always make me smile, if not laugh out loud. He said it was an Easter "rule", up until about the 15th century for priests to bring laughter to the Easter service. After the seriousness of lent and the enormity of the Christ rising, spring springing, and all that, joy was required. After the priests became stand up comics, the Bishops he said, changed the rule.
His stories of this week were heartlifting. A first reconciliation where he raised his hand to grant absolution and the young lad high fived him. Asking a group of children what they thought Christ's first words were after He arose, a youngster thrusting her hand in the air and bouncing about, Ta da!" she responded.
Entertiwned with the words the priest was sharing and reciting, I thought about the Passion play I witnessed on Portobello Road on Friday, my Camino and the world it opened for me, my relationship with St. James and his relationship with Christ. I thought about Mary, who is my feminine advisor and fills my life with roses. The angels I know whom walk with me.
He made us promise to celebrate today. I am. All of the blessings. All of the love, all of the opportunities and challenges bestowed upon me. All of my family, both of blood and from love. My friends. My angels. I'm celebrating prayers answered, prayers unanswered (there's a great country song about this), and sending grace, and peace, and prayers out to all of you.
Inhale the Grace and the spring and the symbols of hope this Day and sason bring. It doesn't matter your faith or your beliefs. Renewal is all around us. Just take a moment and take it in. Celebrate!
I participated in Mass in at the Cathedral in Brentwood, England. It was moving and hovers at the top of my list of memorable and moving (my girls getting baptised and my husband joining the Church bring special meanings to Easter too) category.
The priest, being English, tends to look so serious, but his Homilies are moving and always make me smile, if not laugh out loud. He said it was an Easter "rule", up until about the 15th century for priests to bring laughter to the Easter service. After the seriousness of lent and the enormity of the Christ rising, spring springing, and all that, joy was required. After the priests became stand up comics, the Bishops he said, changed the rule.
His stories of this week were heartlifting. A first reconciliation where he raised his hand to grant absolution and the young lad high fived him. Asking a group of children what they thought Christ's first words were after He arose, a youngster thrusting her hand in the air and bouncing about, Ta da!" she responded.
Entertiwned with the words the priest was sharing and reciting, I thought about the Passion play I witnessed on Portobello Road on Friday, my Camino and the world it opened for me, my relationship with St. James and his relationship with Christ. I thought about Mary, who is my feminine advisor and fills my life with roses. The angels I know whom walk with me.
He made us promise to celebrate today. I am. All of the blessings. All of the love, all of the opportunities and challenges bestowed upon me. All of my family, both of blood and from love. My friends. My angels. I'm celebrating prayers answered, prayers unanswered (there's a great country song about this), and sending grace, and peace, and prayers out to all of you.
Inhale the Grace and the spring and the symbols of hope this Day and sason bring. It doesn't matter your faith or your beliefs. Renewal is all around us. Just take a moment and take it in. Celebrate!
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
It's Been Awhile
For lots of known reasons and many unknown reasons I've been away from the Church. Not away from God, by any means. I have a very close relationship with him. But I've not been to Church for a long, long time. Let me be more specific. I went to church/Mass all along the Camino. I've gone other times too. But not regularly and not with Communion.
The Catholic church is just across the river. I see it out of my window every morning and every night. I've gone every Sunday and to all of the Lenten services. Tonight I did my confession with a wonderful priest. This place has called me, ever so quietly, back to the place that I so dearly love.
Perhaps it is the building's gentle presence. Perhaps it is because it is St. Mary's. Perhaps because the likes of Joop and Gerry and Dwight and others, serve as mentors and reminders and callers and memories.
I'm never far from God. But I've not let myself get truly close for a very long time.
It's nice to be home.
The Catholic church is just across the river. I see it out of my window every morning and every night. I've gone every Sunday and to all of the Lenten services. Tonight I did my confession with a wonderful priest. This place has called me, ever so quietly, back to the place that I so dearly love.
Perhaps it is the building's gentle presence. Perhaps it is because it is St. Mary's. Perhaps because the likes of Joop and Gerry and Dwight and others, serve as mentors and reminders and callers and memories.
I'm never far from God. But I've not let myself get truly close for a very long time.
It's nice to be home.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Everywhere!
Earlier this week, I was caught by surprise. A gentleman at the paper I'm working at in Scotland, asked me if I had really done the Camino. First my surprise was wondering how he I had, and the second bit of surprise was just that I had found someone else who knew of it.
Here in Europe, pretty much everyone knows about it. When/if I mention it, I don't have to explain myself.
I sent off information for him, so he'll have the same good start I did.
And the part about how he'd known? He'd Googled me :)
Here in Europe, pretty much everyone knows about it. When/if I mention it, I don't have to explain myself.
I sent off information for him, so he'll have the same good start I did.
And the part about how he'd known? He'd Googled me :)
Saturday, January 09, 2010
My Steps
After getting to view the Camino Steps art exhibit in St. Paul I felt an additional kinship with others, knowing that the emotions and "guidance" I felt, was not in my head. I futher confirmed it this last summer when I was able to get back together with my friends. I needed to meet with them again. I needed to sit with them and ask about their experience, while looking in their eyes, and hear it for real. To know mine was real too. And that happened.
My collage work, about the Camino is still very literal. I have spurts of metaphorical creativity in other areas, but not with my journey. Meeting Kuch in December is helping.
My collage work, about the Camino is still very literal. I have spurts of metaphorical creativity in other areas, but not with my journey. Meeting Kuch in December is helping.
In the meantime, here is my small, but personally signifigant collection.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Update
A post from a friend spurred me to see when I last wrote. And then I saw Klaus' post about May being the last date.
Oh my heavens, I have not updated two, wait, no, three pieces, no wait, FOUR pieces of news.
One: I found Gerry! Or rather Gerry found me! Yes, Jerry is Gerry and Gerry will "finish" his Camino this summer with his lovely wife, Lilly. Just as planned! I will get to see him this year, if my planned trip to Ireland comes together.
Two: I met up with Joop and Harald this last September. At the end of a trip to Paris, I took the train to Amsterdam. Joop lives about an hour outside of the city and Harald came from Germany. We stayed in a hostel and spent a couple of days seeing Holland from a local's eyes.
Three: Virginia / "Ginn", whom I became cyber friends with from having read this blog, has made her Camino and returned home. Thanks to Facebook, we "face" nearly every day!
Four: Javier's daughter and I still converse now and again. She's working in Japan.
Oh my heavens, I have not updated two, wait, no, three pieces, no wait, FOUR pieces of news.
One: I found Gerry! Or rather Gerry found me! Yes, Jerry is Gerry and Gerry will "finish" his Camino this summer with his lovely wife, Lilly. Just as planned! I will get to see him this year, if my planned trip to Ireland comes together.
Two: I met up with Joop and Harald this last September. At the end of a trip to Paris, I took the train to Amsterdam. Joop lives about an hour outside of the city and Harald came from Germany. We stayed in a hostel and spent a couple of days seeing Holland from a local's eyes.
Three: Virginia / "Ginn", whom I became cyber friends with from having read this blog, has made her Camino and returned home. Thanks to Facebook, we "face" nearly every day!
Four: Javier's daughter and I still converse now and again. She's working in Japan.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
