Camino Frances Spring 2008

Introduction to this blog

2008-07-03T10:13:00.012+02:00

This blog records a pilgrimage, the Camino de Santiago (the Way of Saint James), made from St Jean Pied-de-Port in France to Santiago de Compostela in the north-west of Spain, in May and early June 2008. I had travelled from Sydney via New York where I visited one of my adult children. Hence, the first blog post is from New York, on 28 April 2008.

Apart from this first post, the text of each post is as written on the Camino--the temptation to update them at journey's end was resisted. (I have had stronger temptations.) However, the photos were added at the end of the Camino, numbered and captioned. They relate to the stage of the journey covered in the blog post to which they are attached.

The posts are shown in reverse chronological order, that is, the most recent is first and the first last. That seems scripturally appropriate although I doubt that scripture is the driver of that design.

The purpose of the blog, and an invitation to readers

The blog was principally written to describe for those whom I had left behind in Australia something of what I was seeing and doing, to share the experience more fully with them and to feel closer to them. Hence, the blog has a strongly descriptive character. Writing this publicly available blog more than satisfied my instinct for exhibitionism and so the blog is less a personal reflection on the experience than a record of the journey itself. It is inevitably only part of the story and experience. If anyone reading this blog is interested in learning more, especially if they are planning to make the Camino, I am happy to respond to their queries by email or the Comment facility on this blog.

I should add that I made the Camino alone in the sense that I did not set out in company with any other person. However, it will be apparent from the blog below that I was never alone. The Camino Frances especially can be an intensely communal experience as well as a meditative one. That was my experience of the Way of Saint James.

Camino resources

Online resources

There are many online resources available on the Camino Frances and the other Camino routes to Santiago de Compostela. The following are some that I found especially valuable.

The Confraternity of Saint James (UK): http://www.csj.org.uk

The Pilgrim Forum hosted on the CSJ website but independently moderated: http://www.pilgrimage-to-santiago.com/board

The website associated with the Pilgrim Forum above: http://www.pilgrimage-to-santiago.com

A valuable collection of satellite etc maps of the Camino routes: http://www.godesalco.com/maps

Caminolinks (a useful collection of sites): http://www.caminolinks.co.uk

Mundicamino: http://www.mundicamino.com

Books of value on the Camino

There are many books of great value in preparing for the Camino and reflecting upon it afterwards. I recommend the following.

John Brierley, A Pilgrim's Guide to the Camino de Santiago (Findhorn Press, 2008) (a valuable guidebook that I carried with me on the Camino)

William Bisset (ed), Pilgrim Guides to Spain 1, Camino Frances (Confraternity of Saint James, published annually) (a valuable nuts and bolts guide)

Alison Raju, The Way of Saint James (Cicerone Press, current edition)

David M Gitlitz & Linda Kay Davidson, The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago: The Complete Cultural Handbook (St Martin's Press, 2000) (the subtitle is a fair description of a comprehensive, well-written work covering history, art, architecture etc )

William Melczer, The Pilgrim's Guide to Santiago de Compostela (Ithaca Press, 1993) (a translation of Book Five of the C12 Liber Sancti Jacobi, the first guidebook to the Camino; Melczer has added an excellent introduction on the history of the Camino and the medieval pilgrims who made it)

Jonathan Sumption, The Age of Pilgrimage: The Medieval Journey to God (Hidden Spring, 2003, reprinting his Pilgrimage first published by Faber and Faber in 1975) (looks at the meaning and purposes of Christian pilgrimage in the Middle Ages, to Jerusalem, Rome, Santiago de Compostela and Canterbury)

Joyce Ruff, Walk in a Relaxed Manner: Life Lesson from the Camino (Orbis Books, 2005) (an American nun, a well-known spiritual writer, reflects on her pilgrimage experience)

Tony Kevin, Walking the Camino: A Modern Pilgrimage to Santiago (Scribe, 2007) (an account of a pilgrimage made from Granada in the south on the Via Mozarabe and Via de la Plata)

Roads to Santiago: A Spiritual Companion: Twenty-Five Pilgrims Share Their Journeys (Confraternity of Saint James and Redemptorist Publications, 2008) (a heavily illustrated booklet of 36 pages only that captures briefly some individual pilgrim experiences)

Completing the post from Santiago de Compostela

2008-06-22T12:50:00.042+02:00

These photos relate to the post below and follow the (chronological) sequence of its narrative.
439. A monument to a pilgrim who died at this spot in 1993, just one day's walk from his destination. Two small bronze shoes are in the centre of the grotto.440. A small church in a peaceful grove
441. Here at last, at least in an outer suburb of Santiago
442. The chapel of St Mark at Monte do Gozo
443. The interior of the chapel
444. The closer we got to Santiago the more the cyclists emerged445. The sculpture at Monte do Gozo
446. The facade of the pediment showing marking the pilgrimage to Santiago that Francis of Assisi made in 1212
447. Detail of this facade. The flowers and stones have been added by the faithful.
448. Further detail of the stones added to Francis's basket
449. Another facade of the pediment. This represents the several Camino routes as the fingers on a human hand.
450. Just arrived in Santiago!
451. The Plaza de Praterias and the southern facade of the Cathedral
452. With Nicole (Switzerland) at the Pilgrims Mass
453. The Botafumeiro, the enormous incense holder, at rest454. Self-portrait of Master Mateo, creator of the Porta de la Gloria, at the rear of the pediment of the centre piece of the entrance, facing towards the main altar
455. Some happy pilgrims in Santiago. The three happy amigos had walked from Le Puy in France.
456. Marjolein and Manon (Holland) about to embrace the Saint behind the altar
457. A view of the Cathedral's western facade, reconstructed in the C18 in the Baroque manner
458. The Hostal de Reyes Catolicas, a state owned luxury hotel in the Plaza de Obradoiro on the western side of the Cathedral. The building was constructed on the instructions of Ferdinand and Isabel as a pilgrim hospice in 1492. The hotel's name refers to them.
459. Celebrating arrival in Santiago: Erica, Gerhard, Gudrun and Angela, all from Germany
460. More celebrations!
461. Farewell drinks: Gabor (Hungary), Slawomir (Poland) and Marjolein and Manon (Holland)
462. Swinging the Botafumeiro in the Cathedral at the conclusion of the Pilgrims' Mass
463. With Di (Daylesford) and Annette (Fremantle) in the Pilgrims Office
464. Courtyard of the Colegio de San Jeronimo. The statue is of Bishop Fonseca.
465. Three lively women in a Santiago park. Pick the interloper.
466. The view from the Quintana of the Living onto the eastern facade of the Cathedral. The Door of Pardon is immediately behind the young woman using the mobile phone.
467. Looking back at the fishing village and port en route to the end of the world, Finisterre
468. Erica resting en route to Finisterre
469. The coast leading to Finisterre
470. Approaching the lighthouse at Finisterre
471. The end of the way
472. A pilgrim monument. The lighthouse at Finisterre is in the distance.
473. A last view of the Cathedral, looking into the fading western light down one of the outer aisles

This post belatedly completes that commenced in Santiago in early June but abandoned because of difficulties in using the computer in my hotel.

Azrua to Monte de Gozo, Tuesday 3 June 2008

My last post had taken the journey down to Boente on Monday 2 June when I had planned to walk onto the lovely riverside xunta albergue at Ribadiso but, impatient to push on (and to find a farmacia for my cough), I went onto the larger Azrua. Stayed at the fine xunta albergue there and had dinner with Franz and Celia, the lovely Dutch couple with whom I had shared much of the journey on and off. Franz is a retired plumber, enjoying in retirement gardening, walking his dog and spending time with his three daughters (not necessarily in that order). English is his third language, German his second. Celia, who reminds me so much of my sister in law, Betsy, has stronger English. (I have no Dutch, of course!) Indeed, I do not think that there is another native English speaker in the albergue tonight or last night either. Tonight, the dominant tongue is French (including from Quebec). They are mostly new faces to me since I have, in a footling impatience to be in Santiago, have left a few friends, including Thomas from Heidelberg, behind.

I awake on Tuesday a little unsettled. On the previous night group of Spanish school kids had talked long after lights out lin the area just outside the dormitory. They were friendly, happy kids without a word of English, I suspect. I didn't give them any gratuitous advice about beauty sleep as I threaded through them in my underpants (who wants to carry pyjamas 800 kms?) en route to the toilet. It seemed too risky. Anyway, I woke finally at 6 am with the Frenchman in the lit next to me, who had studiously avoided eye contact, breathing over the back of my neck and snoring loudly. (All beds were pushed together.) This was not a welcome spooning. Time to get moving.

Again, as yesterday, the walking was not especially memorable, mostly through small hamlets and farms, a lesser version of what we had seen before but diluted by increasing modernity, urban landscape and the built environment. I even missed my beloved cuckoo this morning--it has been such a treat to hear his/her call. This is post-cuckoo Spain. It hit me this morning why the Compostella is given only for the last 100 kms to SdC: the previous 700 kms do not need any further reward. There was nothing today of great historical interest except for the delightful chapel of San Marcos at Monte del Gozo (see below). But, like yesterday, there were stands of eucalyptus forests imported for pulp timber production. Any Australian would feel at home here.

I had planned to walk on only to the albergue at Arca do Pina, completing Brierley's (my guide book) second last stage (20 kms). A heavy cold made that seem prudent, with only 21 kms then remaining to SdC. However, I'm afraid that I missed the turn off to the Arco do Pina albergue (who says you can't get lost with the Camino's generous signage?) and kept going some way before I realized my mistake. No backtracking! I kept on going until I reached Monte del Gozo (the Mountain of Joy), from which medieval pilgrims might, on a clear day, see the Cathedral at SdC, a mere 4 kms away. Nowadays, the view is obscured, including by a football stadium. The albergue at Monte del Gozo is an enormous, ugly xunta albergue that houses 800 pilgrims in barrack style huts that have 8 persons in 4 bunks per room. Brierley calls it a "modern grief", not a joy, but it had a very friendly hospitalera and it is reassuring that there will be accommodation for all comers.

Looking back on the day's long walk to Monte del Gozo, some things stay in the memory.

The first was the hamlet of Lavacolla (literally 'washing one's loins') where medieval pilgrims washed themselves in preparation for their arrival in SdC.

Second, by the roadside on the way towards Lavacolla was a memorial to a German pilgrim who in August 1993 collapsed and died at the spot just one day's walking short of his destination. Tiny bronze shoes stand inside the stone grotto. There have been a number of other memorials to pilgrims who died en route to SdC including a fine sculpture to a German cyclist pilgrim near Molinaseca. (Both of these memorials are captured in photos on this blog.) To my knowledge, only one pilgrim died on the Camino in or around my cohort of pilgrims, a 60 year old Frenchman who had a heart attack climbing the hill to Cirauqui from Puenta la Reina in early May, a day before I made that climb. Death is not a constant companion on the Camino but the pilgrim demography and the demands of the road make it no stranger either.

Some reflections on expression of faith

In Monte del Gozo, there was a memorable Mass in the Capilla de San Marcos, celebrated by a young Latin American priest for a congregation of 7 only. He and I were the only males. The altar server was a girl of about 6 or 7 with her grandmother (they were locals, not pilgrims). The capilla is very simple and is the last physical connection with the site that medieval pilgrims would have known. There is a a stone pieta (Mary cradling the crucified Christ in her arms) behind the altar. A modern statue of Mary is adorned with the many pairs of Rosary beads. These add greatly to the simple beauty of the medieval capilla as a powerful, moving witness to the deep faith of the local and pilgrim communities that it serves. This was one of the most moving Masses that I took part in in Spain.

Indeed, it is impossible not to be moved by the faith of the church communities in modern Spain that add Rosary beads to a simple statue, stones to the numerous grottos, a plastic madonna to the base of a 200+ year old tree and a thousand other manifestations of a faith deeply held and comfortably expressed. Take one further example at Monto del Gozo itself. There is a large sculpture there commemorating Pope John Paul II's visit as part of his pilgrimage to SdC in 1992. At its pediment are four bronze sculptures. One shows St Francis of Assisi as a pilgrim. In the sculpture the saint's face is entirely bare--there is no representation at all of his features--but he is given a basket and a cane walking stick. The basket has been filled by pilgrims or other faithful with stones and the stick festooned with flowers. These additions are deeply moving, for this pilgrim at least, for their spontaneous expression of affection and belief.

So also is the thought of the privations suffered by the millions of pilgrims to SdC who, unlike their modern successors, turned around and walked home. Many would have carried from Tricastela to Castanuela the large limestone blocks used for the production of lime for the mortar in the construction of the Cathedral at SdC. Their spiritual relief was hard earned.

Monte del Gozo to Santiago del Compostela, Wednesday 4 June 2008

At about 8 am I arrived at the Praza Obradoiro, the square on the western side of the Santiago Cathedral and the traditional pilgrim entry point to the Cathedral. It was a grey day but that did not dampen the joy of completion.

Pilgrim rituals in Santiago

Pilgrims would ritually enter through the Cathedral, the terminus of the pilgrimage and the site of the remains of the Apostle in shared belief, through the interior portico created in the C12 by Master Mateo, the Portico de la Gloria. To do so they would first climb the steps of the Cathedral and enter via the external portico (the present exterior portico was rebuilt in the mid C18). The entrance and both porticos are both closed for restoration work, presumably in preparation for the Holy Year in 2010 when the feast of St James, 25 July, falls on a Sunday. (This would not be a good year, and July especially not a good month, for a pilgrimage unless you are the Pope.)

The pilgrim ritual involves attending the daily Pilgrim Mass at noon at which the celebrant announces the countries of origin of the pilgrims who have just obtained their Compostella (the certificate of completion of the Camino) from the Pilgrims Office. At the conclusion of that Mass, the botafumeiro, a giant incense burner, is swung across the altar, from transept to transept by a team of 8 men. (Transepts are the lateral arms of the cross that with the long nave make up the church's design.) It is great theatre and rather steals the show. The botafumeiro's original function may have been to fumigate the pilgrims or the smell and contagion they introduced despite loin washing at Lavacolla. Now it is the entertainment de jour. Cameras go mad, including mine.

The more individual elements of the pilgrim ritual in the Cathedral include putting your hand in the Tree of Jesse, the central column of the Portico de al Gloria. (The portico itself tells the Bible story in stone.) Holes have been worn in in marble by the millions of pilgrims who have done this over the millennium. The pilgrim then touches her or his brow to that of Master Mateo, the creator of the portico, whose statue stands at the pediment of the central column but facing the altar. (The hope is that his genius is contagious. Sadly not, in my case.) When I arrived both actions were formally denied by Cerrado signs and barriers although some determined peregrinos were sighted crossing them in a quiet moment to complete these rituals. When one elegant woman in high heels, who had walked clearly no further than a car or tourist bus, jumped the barricades to be photographed, the guards intervened and added a further barrier and heavier policing. One pilgrim is happy that he got there first, and placed his hands with those of earlier pilgrims and shared their journeys more intimately.

Another element of the pilgrim ritual is to climb the stairs behind the mail altar of the Cathedral and "embrace the saint", that is, hug the large gilt covered statue of St James from behind. Brierley's guide says "Perhaps lay your head on his broad shoulders and say what you came here to say."

Finally, you may proceed to the crypt under the altar and kneel before the gilt casket containing the relics that inspired millions to make the pilgrimage to Santiago, far from their homes, often in inhospitable conditions, and then turn around to make the return journey. It is not clear how many modern pilgrims believe these to be the remains of the Apostle beheaded by Herod in Jerusalem in 44 AD. Even for those like the writer, whose motivation for the pilgrimage has a substantial religious component, the authenticity of the relics need not be the core underpinning for the journey. Uncertainty does not diminish either the pilgrimage experience generally or that of prayer in the crypt.

In one sense it is fortuitous that I was unable to enter Master Mateo's Portia de la Gloria. This means that my pilgrimage remains incomplete, unfinished. That is utterly apt. Even if I had crossed the portico, the pilgrimage, my Camino, would have continued upon my return home to Sydney and in the years beyond. Not entering this portico, not making the entrance to the Cathedral that so many pilgrims made before me, emphasizes the Camino's incompleteness. All who leave Santiago as pilgrims remain such; some of us have this reminder of our continuing pilgrimage with an interrupted journey through the Portico de la Gloria.

Meeting old friends again

I spent a few days in Santiago that I had originally planned to spend in London catching up with someone very dear to me. (Plans changed with her return south.) That gave me time to catch up with old friends from the way as a new wave of pilgrims arrived each day and to meet new pilgrims such as Chris and Jean from NZ. Some friends are shown in photos above. Others who are not include Terry (Dublin), Jennifer (Rhode Island), Thomas (Heidelberg), Deiter (Germany), Franz and Celia (the Netherlands), Harry and Lisa (the Central Coast, first met at Orisson and not seen since Roncesvalles), Francois and his buddies from Le Puy, also met at Orisson, Greg and Annette (Fremantle), Serano (Byron Bay) and a number of the German women from La Faba. Jennifer and I were looking out for Sallie (Ontario) whom we had farewelled in Leon, hoping that we might see her one last time on the Camino that she had been reluctantly forced to relinquish because of the risk to her health. We did not. She had been in our thoughts then and is in mine now as I write this.

There is a great sadness in knowing that I shall not see most of these people again. However, we have the tie of the shared journey and fellowship. These greetings and partings are bitter sweet.

Journey to the end of the earth

The extra time in Santiago also allowed me to take the bus to Finisterre (Fisterre in Gallego), literally the end of the earth, some 90 kms west of SdC. This pre-1492 nomenclature expresses the medieval belief that the (flat) earth ended here and that the pilgrimage took you to its outer limits. Pilgrims returned home the better prepared for another journey beyond this world's limits. Some burned their clothes to mark the rebirth. Francois of Quebec told me that he intended to do so--he had lost so much weight that they no longer fitted him, anyway, he said.

At Cape Finisterre where I walked the 5 kms from the bus terminus with Erica (Koln) and Francis (Belgium), some did burn clothing but none that they were wearing and none to the extent of Brian Sewell in his documentary The Naked Pilgrim. But then Sewell made the Camino almost entirely in his Mercedes (the closing portion was on horseback) and so some extravagant gesture might have been expected as a compensatory mechanism.

De Santiago de Compostela

2008-06-07T14:31:00.005+02:00

These photos relate to the blog post below. That post covers the journey from Palas de Rei to Azrua on 2 June 2008. The photos follow the (chronological) 0rder of the narrative in the post.
423. Navigating the watery path from Palas de Rei
424. These raised boxes on a stone plinth seem peculiar to rural Galicia
425. C12 Iglesia de San Xulian do Camino
426. Medieval Magdelana bridge over the rio Seco leading into Disicabo
427. Medieval Ponte Vehla leading into Furelos
428. Romanesque church of San Pedro in the main street of busy, industrial Melide
429. The doorway of the church of San Pedro
430. C14 stone cross adjacent to San Pedro. It is reputed to be the oldest in Galicia.
431. Detail of the Cruce de Melide: on one side, Christ in Majesty
432. The other side of the Cruce de Melide: Christ crucified
433. Iglesia de Santi Spiriti, now a parish church but in the C14 an Augustinian monastery serving pilgrims
434. Iglesia de Santa Maria, leaving Melide
435. Eucalypt stands. We might be in the Australian bush.
436. Peaceful crossings
437. The interior of the simple parish church of Santiago at Boente. The parish priest greeted us personally as we passed (and mostly entered) his church.
438. The albergue at Azrua

This post is sent from SdC where I arrived early on Wednesday morning, 4 June. It updates the journey since my last post, from Palas de Rei. That seems so long ago. This post completes the narrative of the journey for any interested, patient readers. [In fact, that narrative was completed in a following post sent after my return home. See below for explanation.]

Palas de Rei to Arzua, Monday 2 June 2008

After dinner on Sunday night with Angela and her father, both from Koln, it was a passable night in the xunta albergue in PdR. The most interesting cultural aspect was the contest for some fresh air between some Germans and a forthright Spanish woman who immediately got out of her bunk and closed the window that the Germans had presumed to open a little. She did so with a strident "Yo tengo frigo" (I am cold). The Germans muttered but said nothing although they seem to have had the last word, thank God, since the window was open during the night.

The walking to Azrua was not especially memorable, through ancient oaks and great stands of eucalyptus forest imported for timber production. It is a lesser version of country passed in the last few days. There was a long entry into Melide via its charmless suburbs. On the main road in Melide is the church of San Pedro with a C14 stone cross with Christ in Majesty on one side and Christ crucified in the other. It is thought to be the oldest cross in Galicia. There is also a memorable parish church of Sancti Spritu, originally a C14 Augustinian monastery.

In Boente the parish priest greets us to welcome us to his church of Santa Maria. It is near the ancient village of Castañuela where the lime for the construction of the Santiago Cathedral was made from the limestone carried from Triacastela by the pilgrims. We modern pilgrims are finding it tough enough without carrying limestone blocks!

I think that I might end this post now--it´s not a convenient place in my hotel to be sending it from, a little too busy and intrusive. I´ll complete the log when I get home next week and add photos. For now, it will have to suffice to say that it is wonderful to be in Santiago with the pilgrimage complete and catching up with follow pilgrims. Tomorrow, Sunday 8 June, I´ll go to Finisterre by bus and on the next day fly to London. On Tuesday 10 June, I take the plane home.

Thanks again for your company and support.

A further post from Palas de Rei

2008-06-01T17:52:00.007+02:00

These photos relate to the blog post below. That post cover the journey from Sarria to Portomarin in 31 May 2008 and from Portomarin to Palas de Rei on the following day. The order of the photo follows the (chronological) order of the blog's narrative.
387. Nicole (Switzerland) and a German peregrina from La Faba leaving Sarria bound for Portomarin 388. Somewhere on the section between Barbadelo and Ferrerios
389. In the same section, a typical rural Galician sight
390. A popular sign. Just 100K to Santiago!
391. A little further on
392. A small grotto on the way
393. The stones enable walkers to rise above the flow
394. A little further on
395. The Romanesque Iglesia Santa Maria de Ferrerios
396. Its cemetery in the distinctive Galician way with stacked, above ground, vaults
397. Galicia, green and moist
398. And rocky and shaded
399. And with constant devotional marks
400. The running of the bulls neat Moutras deserves to be better known. (Where is Hemingway?) I had a nanosecond in which to decide whether take this shot and run the risk of the automatic flash engaging and spooking these bulls with such long horns. Happily, it didn't.
401. Advice is always welcome, don't you think? (Yes, that is a women of mature years doing the digging. Reminded me more than a little of the division of labour at the Yenda Estate except that I'm not so generous even with advice.)
402. Approaching Portomarin
403. The bridge across the reservoir to the relocated Portomarin
404. Iglesia San Pedro whose Romanesque doorway (see #405) was relocated from the old church
405. That doorway in more detail
406. The C12 Romanesque church of San Nicolas at Portomarin which was reconstructed after the relocation of the city to higher ground to make way for the creation of the reservoir in 1962.
407. Iglesia de San Nicolas at Portomarin
408. Iglesia de San Nicolas at Portomarin
409. The interior of the beautiful church of St Nicolas
410. Recrossing the reservoir on the way out of Portomarin, around sunrise, bound for Palas de Rei
411. On the way to a cup of coffee for breakfast at Gonzar
412. A form of affection, homage and respect, leading to the beautiful cross (see photos following)
413. C17 cross by the roadside near Eirexe. Thomas (Heidelberg) is in the foreground.
414. One side of the cross
415. The crucifixion on the other side
416. Marvelling at the 200+ year old oak next to the cross: Celia and Franz (Holland) with Thomas in the centre
417. More of the same but with a minor change of personnel
418. A simple church by the way
419. Its adjacent cemetery in the Galicia way with plots stacked above the ground. In some cemeteries they stand 3 or 4 high.
420. Antiquity and rebirth as constant companions
421. The parish church at Palas de Rei
422. Dinner in Palas de Rei with Angela and her father, Michael, both from Koln. He had rejoined Angela only that day to complete the Camino.

As soon as I left the one bar with Internet access in Palas de Rei, I found another across the square. This one updates the story so far. Hope you find it interesting.

Saturday 31 May 2008, Sarria to Portomarin (23 km)

It was very pleasant walking through farmland--cattle and sheep grazing and crop cultivation. The wheat was as high as 5´ in parts but was only 15" or so just two weeks ago in the Meseta. (Michael and Helen would understand this difference--perhaps the seed was just planted at different times.) There are no vineyards here--it´s just too wet (Galicia is Spanish for "even more rain" although to be fair we have had two days free of rain, today and yesterday, the first in almost two weeks.) There is the smell of animals in all built areas. Cattle share the roads with pilgrims--I can´t wait to load a photo of the running of the bulls yesterday near Mourtos; Pamplona eat your heart out. If my flash had been activated ...

The city of Portomarin has been moved to higher ground--the old city is under the reservoir. The beautiful C12 Romanesque church of San Nicolas has been reconstructed stone by stone. (It´s priest is unreconstructed, quite Romanesque in his own way--see my last post re Misa last night.) The Romanesque door of the old Iglesia San Pedro (only) has also been retained. Wait for the slide nights--one for churches, another for dinners, another for running bulls etc.

Sunday 1 June 2008, Portomarin to Palas de Rei (26 kms)

It was pleasant, if unspectacular, walking today across similar terrain to yesterday. Highlights? Probably the two sided cross by the roadside, with Christ crucified on one side and cradled by Mary on the other. I need to read in Gitlitz and Davidson (awaiting me in the Correos in SdC) about its provenance etc. It was next to a wide oak tree that a knowledgeable Dutch pilgrim, Franz, thought would be 200 + years old. These oak trees would (will?) delight my brother Tom (whom I am missing). Again, wait for the photos which I´ll upload when I return home [see above]. There is no facility to do so here.

Today´s walk was made the richer for being shared all day with Thomas, a medical doctor from Heidelberg who was a delightful and knowledgeable companion. He was converted from Catholicism to Protestanism by, among other influences, the music of J S Bach. I can understand that. We agreed that we both missed Bach a great deal on the Camino. Not newspapers, news, TV, email, but Bach. (I´m also going to miss a concert of Anna Jacobs´s music in Sydney on 9 June, I think. Anna and JSB. Both much missed.)

Albergues in Galicia and food

I should say something about the albergues in Galicia. The xunta (government) of Galicia runs albergues in each major and many minor towns. The charge is 3 Euros ($AU 5). They are crowded but good. There are also private albergues charging about double that which tend to provide little extra things like toilet paper and sometimes soap in the soap dispenser. Six Euros is about the average price I paid for albergues before Galicia. The menu del dia is about 8 Euros here in Galicia (about 11-12 E elsewhere). The food is generally good although the meal in Sarria challenged but did not defeat my system. The communalism of the albergue is very attractive, to me at least, but not to all, I suspect. I shared a bed (bunks pushed together) with 76 year old Maurice last night, one of my Camino heroes for his determination. Wish he had some English (and that I had not stopped French at 14 years of age).

Santiago is not far away. Today we saw in the distance the hills behind SdC, from a place called Monte Rosario since at this sight medieval pilgrims would fall to their knees spontaneously and say the Rosary. I´m afraid to say that Thomas and I kept walking but heartened by the prospect of being there soon. 69 kms away.

Thanks for your companionship on the journey.

Fondly, Paul

De Palas de Rei

2008-06-01T16:29:00.014+02:00

These photos relate to the blog post below. That post covers the journey from Triacastela to Sarria via Samos, on 30 May 2008.
369. Dinner at Triacastela, with Terry, Marjolein and Manon370. Entering San Cristobo, a traditional, small village
371. The mill at San Cristobo
372. Companions on the green way
373. Mary is powering on towards Samos
374. The Benedictine monastery at Samos
375. Our guide at the monastery and some of his appreciative audience. Not all were travelling to Santiago on foot.
376. The tranquil monastery courtyard
377. Another perspective
378. A view of the courtyard from above
379. A corridor mural in the monastery
380. More detail with our wonderful guide
381. The path from Samos towards Sarria
382. An iglesia on the way in a remote valley
383. The interior of my private albergue at Sarria. It was very pleasant, unusually comfortable and uncrowded.
384. The mural on the wall leading to the Iglesia de Santa Marina. In the central image, a young strong, tall pilgrim is supporting an older one. I do not know the significance of the image on the right, whether the child is in the nature of a protective angel or, more likely, protected by the pilgrim.
385. The church itself
386. One of the pilgrims' heros, Maurice from Chambery, France who told us proudly that he was 76

This blog post is sent from Palas de Rei, some 69 kms from Santiago! The reference to the Palas is historical (or perhaps aspirational--it´s now a minor administrative centre!).

It´s some three days since my last post. Here are some updating notes. At last I have a proper keyboard.

Thursday night in Triacastela, 29 May 2008

This night was memorable for a lovely dinner with Terry, a retired school counsellor from a Christian Brothers school in Dublin who is continuing the Camino after his wife was sadly forced to "retire hurt", and two very engaging Dutch women documentary and program makers, Manon and Marjolein, from Amsterdam.

We joined up after the Pilgrims Blessing to which we went in pouring rain. That is perhaps worth recounting. The priest welcomed us with a printed sheet in our own language, albeit with a rather didactic tone, on the true meaning of the Camino. He then said Misa with frequent liturgical digressions entirely in Spanish at a pace that few non-native Spanish speakers could follow. Native Spaniards made up less than 10% of the congregation. He was given to exhorting us (berating is a better term) to respond more loudly in Spanish. At least he gave us Gospel texts to read in four languages (I did the English version, from Luke, on the journey to Emmaus which had a Camino message perhaps of seeing Christ in fellow pilgrims) and we did a Pilgrims Blessing in six languages. He spoke only in Spanish and assumed our facility with it.

He was a lot better than the priest who said Misa last night in Portomarin. Misa was scheduled for 8.30 pm, a little late for pilgrims. The Rosary finished at 8.45 and we moved into the Misa. The priest faced the people but otherwise it was pre-Vatican 1. There was no lay participation at all beyond a single elderly crone acolyte whose role was much less than that of a 1950s Australian altar boy. Pilgrims made up half of the congregation (and greatly lowered its average age despite the fact that it was not the younger pilgrims attending Misa) but there was no reference to them, and no blessing. We came out shaking our heads with bemusement. (Young Spaniards do not clog up the churches, unsurprisingly.)

Friday 30 May 2008, Triacastela to Sarria via Samos

There are two routes to Sarria from Triacastela. The one via San Xil is 6.5 kms shorter and the traditional pilgrim route. Despite these considerable attractions, I went via Samos to see the Benedictine Monastery there. The monastery was originally founded in the C6 although it has been extensively rebuilt over the centuries. From the C11 it was a pilgrim hospice and in the C12 it was given to the care of the Benedictines of Cluny. We had a guided tour from an elderly, tiny, lovable monk who spoke with such passion and affection for the monastery, its history, art, cloisters etc, entirely in quick Spanish. But it did not matter at all since we got his drift and his heart was pure and his ego invisible. The monastery was just splendid and memorable.

I walked to Samos with Mary, an interesting US woman of Korean background, recently retired from a senior executive position based in Asia. Her blisters forced her to be hospitalised in Burgos and resulted in a continuing bone infection from which she suffers. She had to have her boot cut off in hospital, poor thing. She has a large spirit in a tiny frame. And was a great source of chocolate. (We generally walk for 2 hours or so before taking food or coffee and so chocolate is always a welcome gift. (I try not to start the day with it from my own supply but save it for the last few hard kilometers of the day.)). Mary was planning to stay overnight at the albergue attached to the monastery and attend Vespers etc.

After Samos, there was a beautiful walk via the Rio Ouribo which we had followed from Triacastela, through numerous river valleys, up green hills etc. It was a hot sunny day, the first for some time and I got burned before twigging to the need for sun cream. The trip was also much longer than the guidebook indicated but worth it.

Since crossing into Galicia, on Thursday morning at about 8 am, just before O´Cebreiro, there has been a stone post every 500 m stating the name of the town or village and the distance from Santiago. These have become welcome friends, marking distance travelled and the identifying the tiny village we are passing, usually imperceptibly.

Crossing into Galicia I thought I smelt the poverty almost immediately. Perhaps it was just the ubiquitous cow shit, in solid and liquid form, that we pass over and through or the heavy moisture that holds the odour. But there seems to be less comfort and affluence than in the other, sunnier, autonomous regions that we have passed through before Galicia. Terry thinks it reminds him of rural Ireland in the 1960s before European money modernised it and greatly increased rural incomes. Like Navarra, Galicia has its own language, Gallego. English does not take you far here.

I thought that Sarria would be crowded since it is the city closest to SdC from which you may commence the Camino and still qualify for the compostella of completion. (You only, but must, need complete the last 100 kms to SdC-the rest of the Camino doesn´t count at all!). It wasn´t busy in the evening and my albergue was empty. However, there were more Spaniards on the Camino on the next morning, Saturday. But that is another day and another post since I´m running out of time and there are other claimants for this single machine. Internet access is not a priority here in Galicia.

More as soon as I can get access.

De Triacastela

2008-05-29T17:20:00.014+02:00

These photos relate to the journey described in the post below. That journey was from Ponferrada to Triacastela via Villafranca del Bierzo and La Faba, from 27-29 May 2008. The photos follow the (chronological) of the narrative in the post itself.
316. Making a relatively late start from Ponferrada317. In the suburbs of Ponferrada, an unidentified iglesia of special interest to me for its modern murals (see below)
318. Another view of the church. Its special devotion seems to be to Mary.
319. The modern mural of the Annunciation at this church
320. A detail depicting two especially dear to me, at least in their shared names
321. The nearby (at Compostilla) former hermitage Iglesia Santa Maria de Compostilla
322. The Ermita (Hermitage) San Blas y San Roque in busy Columbrianos. This town is an outer suburb of Ponferrada and not therefore a dedicated pilgrim village as so many other, more urban remote villages, are.
323. Another view of the Ermita at Columbrianos
324. A view of the market gardens around Camponaraya
325. Catching up with old friends at Camponaraya. Ana is tending to Alex's swollen knees.
326. The way to Cacabelos
327. Groves on that way
328. And more vineyards
329. On the beautiful section from Pieros to Villafranca via Valtuille de Arriba. The serious rain held off for this relatively deserted section. Many took the carreta route because of the rain threat and the prospect of more heavy mud.
330. The Romanesque C12 Iglesia de Santiago in Villafranca still welcomes all, whatever the size of your ears. The Junta sign announces its restoration.
331. Another view of this beautiful church
332. The albergue where I stayed in Villafranca
333. Palacio de los Marqueses in Villafranca
334. The portal of the Romanesque C12 Iglesia de Santiago in Villafranca
335. Detail of that portal
336. Dinner at Villafranca. From left, Lars (Sweden), Tomas (Germany), self, Nathan, Will, Justin, Nicole (Switzerland), Sandra (Switzerland) and Mary (USA).
337. The three Calgary pilgrims, Nathan, Justin and Will, and Mary, on their way back to the albergue from dinner. The church is illuminated in the central background.
338. Others were still enjoying the night outside the albergue
339. Early morning at the albergue at Villafranca, with pilgrims preparing to head off
340. You have been warned! Informal, and no doubt well intentioned, advice to those tempted to take the Ruta Pradela rather than the Ruta Carretera but I do not regret the decision to press on even though I could not describe myself as a bueno caminanto.
341. The path up the ridge in the slowly enveloping mist
342. The mist accentuate the colour variety of the vegetation
343. Even cyclists such as Tomas from Germany, with whom I had shared a meal in Villafranca del Bierzo the night before, might take the high road. He was doing it with ease.
344. A view onto the distant road below and the less fortunate pilgrims who opted to take it
345. The vegetation in the higher reaches has such rich colouring
346. These may be called chestnut trees. Whatever their name, they are delightful especially in the soft misty light at the top of the ridge on the Ruta Pradela from Villafranca.
347. The road out from Vega de Valcarce before the slow climb to O'Cebreiro 348. The slow climb up the Montes de Galicia towards the crossing at O'Cebreiro
349. Approaching La Faba en route to O'Cebreiro
350. The restored medieval Iglesia San Andres (why did the first church to this Apostle on the Camino so draw me?) at the La Faba albergue run by a German Confraternity. The pilgrim sculpture in the foreground is modern.
351. Dinner at La Faba
352. Pasta is the go all round
353. The early morning climb from La Faba to the peak at O'Cebreiro in increasing mist354. Galicia's waymarks for the pilgrim with the distance to Santiago de Compostela
355. We are in Galicia now
356. It's lonely up here in the mist
357. Mist and moss
358. Beginning the descent from O'Cebreiro in clearing conditions
359. The valley below emerges slowly
360. Iglesia San Esteban at Linares
361. The weather is clearing to show the view below
362. Pilgrim monument at the Alto de San Roque
363. The descent into Triacastela through the green fields of Galicia
364. The descent into Triacastela
365. The descent into Triacastela continues
366. The moss is everywhere
367. The parish church at Triacastela with its C18 bell tower
368. More of the approach to Triacastela

This blog is sent from the medieval village of Triacastela, about 143 kms from Santiago de Compostella which I hope to reach next Wednesday.

There has been limited internet access since my last post from Ponferrada. Here´s a brief update of the highlights for anyone interested.

Tuesday 27 May, Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo

It was rather dull walking out of Ponferrada enlived only by naive external murals on the Inglesia Santa Maria in suburban Compostilla that had a beautiful Annunciation that included, along with Mary and Gabriel, Santa Ana. Fully captured digitally.

We then passed through peaceful but largely unmemorable market gardens until reaching Cacabelos with a population of 5,000 and a couple of lovely churches: only the more modern, parochially active, was open (there is apparently theft of art, gold leaf etc from the altar pieces etc of these medieval churches and so they are usually cerrado).

Then the daily rain came. Many pilgrims clung to the highway into Villafranca but a few of us stuck to the longer recommended route through vineyards. This 5 km stretch was the best walking of the day, in empty, remote green fields and though the tiny village of Villaturba de Arriba. Farm tracks mostly. Beautiful as the rain lifted and the birds resumed their song.

I stayed at the Albergue Ave Fenix. It has a great reputation for its care of pilgrims although the English vicar Robin had warned me that it was in great decline. That was my experience entirely. It was unwelcoming, graceless and with a slightly mercenary ambience. Perhaps it is under different management or ownership. Jesus Jato, the scion of the traditional owning family, is said to have this saying on the albergue wall (although I did not see it): "El Camino es tiempo de meditacion interior, no itinerario turistico." That captures the spirit and character of the Camino nicely.

Villafranca is rich with religious (including pilgrim) sites although most are inaccessible. The albergue is adjacent to the C12 Romanesque church of Santiago which was happily open. It is very plain with a hemispherical altar space (can´t recall the technical term) rather like the pilgrim churh of the same period at Eunate. There is said to be a Puerta del Perdon (Door of Forgiveness) through which pilgrims too ill to continue might enter and receive the same indulgences as for completion of the Camino. The church of San Isidore in Leon has the same Puerta. Both churches are at the foot of major mountains which pilgrims must cross to reach SdC. They became end points for many in the Middle Ages, I expect.

Nine pilgrims, not well known to each other beforehand, had dinner together in the local restaurant all for the standard price of 10 Euros (about $16)! This was a great night with great food. Three Canadian young men were especially interesting and impressive--two brothers, Nathan and Justin, and their friend Will. They are experienced hikers. Will said he thoght the Camino would be a cakewalk after the Rockies but it was harder he said, because you only do 4 or 5 days in the Rockies. This just goes on, day after day, for 20 or 30 days. That takes a peculiar toll.

Wednesday 28 May, Villafranca to La Faba en route to O´Cebreiro

There are two principal Camino routes out of Villafranca to O´Cebriero. The first is by the roadside, the Ruta Carretera . The second. the Ruta Pradela, has you climbing a mountain range, an ascent of 480 m according to the Lonely Planet guide and trek fo 8 or so kms, before descending to rejoin the road. My guidebook recommends it although it adds 1-2 hours to the journey. A graffiti sign at the base of the mountain route says: "Camino muy duro. Solo para buenes caminantes." I took a punt and it was the highlight of the day´s walking. There were very few up and we could look down on the ants on the road below. There was rain and mist but the view was spectacular.

The Camino follows the road which I rejoined after the descent and after a long, flat, unspectacular walk begins the ascent to O´Cebreiro (from 600 to 1300 m). This is said to be the toughest climb of the Camino. The climb up was steep but not as steep as in the morning. The rain also stopped and the quality of the light was spectacular. I broke the climb at La Faba, taking the bed on offer there rather than risking missing one in O´Cebreiro where there is only a single albergue (there were two, pretty full, ones in Villafranca the night before!). That was a lucky decision. The albergue was just great and the night was memorable.

The albergue is run by a German confraternity, a voluntary association of friends of the Camino, mostly returned pilgrims putting something back into it (just like the English confraternity´s albergue at Rabanal). The hospitalera was a late 60s woman from Koln doing a two week stint there. Together we repaired the broken plastic panel on the women´s shower. (There was more talent available but I had offered to do anything needed and she came back to me with something that required skill!! Still, we got it done!) The sisters are showering again.

There was a service for peace in the chapel of the Albergue at 8 pm. It seemed the right thing to do to go even though I was to join some young friends for a communal dinner in the kitchen which they were cooking. (They didn´t start to cook until later than I expected.) Anyway, the service was conducted by a Spanish Franciscan who explained, via the hospitalera as interpreter in German and English, that he and a fellow Franciscan looked after 14 villages all on the Camino in this region. After thoughtful reflections, including from each of us (all of much of the same age), he called for five volunteers to come forward for an exercise to show how to make peace. Three German women immediately came forward to sit at the front of the church facing the congregation. The hospitalera gave me a wink to go forward and so did the only other non-German in the congregation, Peter from Kent in the UK. The priest then produced the Maundy Thursday basin of warm water, a jug and a towel and indicated to Peter, sitting at the end of the row of five, to remove his shoe on one foot. The priest washed it. I expected him to do the same to each of us, as on Maundy Thursday on commemoration of Christ´s action on the Last Supper. Instead he motioned to Peter to do the same to me, sitting next to him. I then did the same to the German woman next to me. As I did so, I looked up at her to give her a smile and saw that she was crying. The whole experience, including the warmest, tightest hugs I have ever received in the exchange of the peace greeting, were extraordinarily memorable.

Then there was dinner waiting for me, spaghetti prepared by Gregor from Poland and pancakes made by Alex from Spain. It was the happiest end to a lovely day in the company of special people. It only lacked Ana.

Thursday 29 May, La Faba to Triacastela

Finished the climb to O´Cebreriero after a 7 am start and made the slow descent over these mountians to Triacastela, about 26 kms. These mountains are where the winds from the Atlantic hit the hills for the first time as in western Ireland. It´s extraordinary green and lush and wet and windy. Now the most flattish last stage to Santiago remains, across the autonomous region of Galicia that produced both Fidel Castro and Generalisimo Franco. (Like Ireland before, poverty forces it to export its younger sons.) More follows soon.

Fondly, Paul

A further post from Ponferrada

2008-05-26T19:53:00.004+02:00

Some afterthoughts while I´m waiting for the kitchen to be free to share in the making of pasta in a joint enterprise this evening. My input, beyond the provision of some wine and oranges for dessert, is not crucial happily.

Rabanal, Saturday night, 24 May

There were memorable Vespers (7 pm) and Compline and Pilgrim Blessing (9.30 pm) led by two tall, bearded German Benedictine monks in long black cloaks and hoods, rather like medieval pilgrims on the Camino, for that matter. They have established the religious community of San Salvador del Monte Irago in Rabanal. They sang in Gregorian Chant and five of us read from 2 Peter (1, 19-21, from memory if anyone is interested--this is for you, Mum!) in different languages. I did the English reading. It was quite moving especially with a full church on both occasions. The church is the tiny (C12?) Iglesia de la Santa Maria that may have been established by the Knights Templar, an order formed to protect pilgrims. (Not having read any of Dan Brown, I´m not full bottle historically here.)

In between the two services, we went to the Bar/Restaurante for dinner. Being Saturday night in Spain, the ubiquitous plasma screen was showing the bull-fighting. The only ones not preening are the bulls against whom the dice are thoroughly loaded. There´s an unsettling mix of blood lust and plain vanilla lust in the stands. It´s global social function must be to legitimize the local unspeakable football code. I´m feeling better about (Lethal) Leigh Matthews and the Sharks forward pack already.

Ponferrada, Monday 26 May

The Knights Templar, at the height of their power and perhaps because of it, were disbanded by Church decree in 1312. Their great castle on the Camino is at Ponferrada, completed only in 1282. It´s the centre of this town but sadly closed in Mondays!

The pasta is cooked. Must run. I never keep a kind cook waiting. Ask Ana.

De Ponferrada

2008-05-26T13:53:00.008+02:00

As with other posts, these photos illustrate the journey covered by the post below and in the further post of the same day from Ponferrada. That journey was from Rabanal to Ponferrada, crossing the Montes de Leon at Mt Irache, on 25-26 May 2008. The photos follow the (chronological) order of the posts.
285. Beginning the serious climb to Mt Irache, the point at which we cross the Montes de Leon286. Stone walls frame the fields even here, in these high rises
287. Looking back on the valley as we climb
288. On the way up
289. The mist rolls in as we climb
290. The way ahead in an enveloping mist
291. Stark companions on the climb to the top292. The rich colouring of the vegetation is accentuated by the mist293. Entering Foncebadon
294. Roofing in Foncebadon. It seems to work. They have experience with rain.
295. The Cruz de Ferro
296. Some of the contributions to the Cruz
297. Those elements take many forms
298. It's a popular photo opportunity
299. Scenes from the descent in easier visibility
300. Tomas maintains an iconic albergue at Monjardin just below the pass. A pilgrim's hospital existed here from the C12. It is a remote, misty, moist site with beautiful views of the valleys below.
301. Helpful if you were curious
302. More such scenes on the descent
303. It is spectacular to look down on the clouds of mist well below
304. The golden bloom that flourishes in the high country
305. The bellringer at Acebo descends
306. A sculpture memorial to a German pilgrim cyclist who lost his life at the spot outside Acebo. There are a number of such memorials on the Camino.
307. Robin and his son Tris after dinner in Riego de Ambros
308. With Robin
309. The albergue at Riego de Ambros
310. A pleasant reunion with Christian, Ana and Liam outside Ponferrada
311. A view of the albergue in Ponferrada
312. An early morning view from the albergue of its courtyard
313. The Templar castle at Ponferrada
314. The C16 Basilica de Virgen de la Encina
315. A farewell meal for Sandra (second from left) in the albergue. She returned home to Munich on the following day and will return to complete the Camino in another tranche of holidays.

This post is commenced just before 2pm on Monday 26 May in the parroquial albergue of San Nicolas de Flue, a Swiss saint connected to the Camino, in the town of Ponferrada. It has a population of 60,000.

I´m staying here because Ponferrada has a physiotheraphy clinic. Indeed, I´ve just been treated for my achilles tendon inflammation and all is well enough with it. It´s bandaged for 2-3 days and afterwards it´s a regime of ice packs from time to time. It´s behaving itself and I´m trying to do so too, by not walking too far or too long each day. Everything is on track for a comfortable completion. (Hubris, you say? We´ll see.)

Rabanal to Riego de Ambros, Sunday 25 May

This was a spectacular crossing of Monte Irache (part of the Montes de Leon), the highest point on the Camino, 55 m higher than the top of the crossing of the Pyrenees. The climb from Rabanal was just splendid. First, there was direct sunlight and beautiful fields of spring wildflowers, of yellow bloom, and lilac red and white (like Australian flannel flowers) vegetation everywhere. Then, after 6 kms, before Foncebadon, we hit a heavy mist that reduced visibility to 50 m or so. Still beautiful but a very personal, subtle beauty, as if made for each of us individually. At the peak, the Cruz de Ferro, an iron cross mounted in a huge cairn of stones carried by pilgrims over the decades, the sun cut through the mist. I left on the cairn some stones I had been carrying for those dear to me. They are your presence on the Camino.

We then continued to walk across the pass and begin the descent that really ended for me at 11.30 am today in Ponferrada.

It was very cold yesterday although we had little rain. My rain jacket, gloves and beanie kept me warm. It was just freezing in the albergue last night although we had blankets to augment the sleeping bags. I wore thick sox and the heavier Icebreaker also. It is seriously cold in the montes even in late May. There seemed to be a fall of frost in the morning.

Perhaps because of this cold and the other sources of beauty, I took over 100 photos. It was as if Gabe were here and everything just had to be photographed, being so beautiful. Indeed, it was too cold to stop walking all day and it was only when I took a photo that I stopped walking.

I had a lovely dinner last night with an English vicar, Robin, and his son Tristan who has just finished an English lit degree at Birmingham. They are quite delightful. I said good bye to my other recent English friend, Duncan, yesterday although we´ll catch up in London shortly.

There is a queue forming for this Internet and so I´ll finish now but try to do another shortly.

De Rabanel del Camino

2008-05-24T15:06:00.021+02:00

These photos accompany the blog post below and follow the (chronological) sequence of its narrative. They relate to the journey from Villar de Mazarife to Rabanal del Camino via Astorga on 23-24 May 2008.
258. The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain. Oh, yes? Leaving Mazarife. 259. The remarkable bridge at Hospital de Orbigo
260. The bridge seen in side perspective
261. The constant spontaneous pilgrim and other constructions
262. Earlier pilgrim messages and remembrances
263. The road to Astorga, still distant
264. Sunshine makes the way easier
265. Cruceiro Santo Torbino overlooking Astorga
266. The descent into Astorga just before the downpour
267. Gaudi's Archbishop's Palace in Astorga
268. A further view of Gaudi's Archbishop's Palace
269. Detail from the entrance to the Astorga Cathedral
270. The extraordinary portal
271. The twin, joined towers of the Cathedral
272. An albergue in Astorga
273. Astorga Cathedral by night
274. Beautiful snatches of early morning sunlight on the landscape before the pilgrim around Santa Catalina de Somoza. The Montes de Leon are always in the distance.
275. More early sunlight projections ahead of the walker
276. Guidance is always there in formal or informal forms
277. Duncan from London heading into El Ganso
278. He was not alone
279. Abandoned stone houses dot these Maragoto villages
280. El Ganso's Cowboy bar brings an unexpected touch of Mexico/Texas to the Maragoto village
281. Home on the range inside the Cowboy bar
282. Makeshift spontaneous crosses
283. Refuge Gaucelmo, the CSJ refuge where I stayed
284. A view of the Rabanal streetscape. The C12 Iglesia de la Santa Maria is on the left

This post is sent from a noisy bar across the street from Refuge Gaucelmo, the albergue run by the Confraternity of Saint James (CSJ), the English association of friends of the Camino of which I am a member. Our hospitaleros are a couple from New York City, Tom and Jo-Anne. I'm sitting under the plasma screen that is showing a Formula One race somewhere to a languidly interested full bar. All the other pilgrims (apart from me) are sensibly sitting around the fire in the albergue. It's that kind of day.

My last post was sent from Villar de Mazarife on Thursday afternoon. Despite my assertions of a monastic life on the Camino, I immediately went to the a bar with Duncan, an interesting English psychotherapist, for a few beers. We got on very well and I´m with him in Rabanel again today. His mother and aunt are active in the CSJ. After that drink, we shared a lovely communal paella dinner, toasted Ana for our 37th wedding anniversary, and struggled to bed. My nearest sleeping neighbour, a large, delightful non-Anglophone Italian guy, might fruitfully have been harnessed to one of the ubiquitous wind turbines. C´est la vie Camino.

Friday 23 May, Villar de Mazariffe to Astorga

I set out early, pre-dawn for Hospital de Orbigo (15 kms) in the first instance. It has an extraordinary, multi-span C13 bridge that replaced an earlier Roman one. It has seen decisive battles, between Visigoths and Swabians (C5) and Christians and Moors. In 1434 a Leonese knight, rejected in love, assuaged his lost honour by taking on all comers from Europe in 300 jousts. (I don´t get it either.)

In the end, I walked onto Astorga (31 km) to have a better chance to find a physio for my Achilles tendon. This I did last night with an appointment with the delightful Danny at 9 pm. He taped me up, approved an itinerary for the next few days and told me to see another physio in Ponferrada which I´ll do on Monday afternoon.

I stayed last night in an albergue near the Cathedral and Gaudi´s Archbishop's´s Palace. The albergue was tastefully renovated but incredibly noisy and a fire hazard.

The walk out of Astorga was delightful, often beside quiet roads but especially beautiful in the section between Santibanez de Valdeinglesia to Cruceiro Santo Torbino, through orchards and woodland with holm oak and citrus trees. The last 4 kms into Astorga were in driving rain. The twin towers of the Cathedral guided us in.

Saturday 24 May, Astorga to Rabanel del Camino (21 kms)

Today marked the transition from the meseta, the tableland that began around Burgos almost 300 kms ago, and the montes de Leon. Rabanel is in their foothills, 1150 m above sea level. Tomorrow we climb to Cruz de Ferro (1505 m) before descending sharply. I´ll stop at Acebo after 17 kms [actually, I went on further to Riego de Ambros]. Discretion. I´ll go to Ponferrada the next day.

We have Vespers tonight at 7 pm with Gregorian Chant by Benedictine monks in the local church. I´ve volunteered to read in English. Then dinner and later, at 9.30, the Pilgrim´s Blessing. This monastic life!

Climate

It is unseasonably cold and wet here. All the locals remark on it. (Well, not all.) It rains 2 out of 3 days and was just freezing today. I wore my rain jacket for wind protection, red beanie, buff and gloves. The Icebreakers are in reserve. On most days, even on the meseta, I wore my fleece all day. Despite the present cold and rain, the cool weather has been good for walking mostly.

Photos

I´ve taken over 1000 photos and have capacity on the 8G card (thanks to Luke) for 400 more. Be prepared for the slide night to end slide nights.

Outlook

10 of 35 stages of the Camino remain, and 15 days. There´s scope to take it easy and avoid unnecessary pressure on the tendons. I´m enjoying the Camino the more for its contingency--the reality that it might end at any moment if the tendon problem gets worse (it won´t)--and the unexpected difficulties, including the blister on my heel (healing well , if slowly). Being harder work than I had expected, the Camino has a greater sense of accomplishment, and of my relative good fortune among fellow peregrinos many of whom have had to finish their journey early.

Onward with joy--ultreya.

From Villar de Mazariffe

2008-05-22T14:59:00.011+02:00

These photos relate to the blog post following. They are in the (chronological) order of the post's narrative. That post covers the journey from Leon to Villar de Mazarife on 22 May 2008.
249. Leaving Leon before sunrise, outside the ancient monastery of San Marcos, now a luxury hotel
250. The modern church at La Virgen del Camino
251. The Camino en route to Chozas de Abajo
252. More rich red mud
253. Icing the tendon at Chozas
254. Michael from Siegen at Chozas de Abajo
255. The storks make themselves and the family at home in the bell tower at Villar de Mazarife
256. The bell tower without the stork focus
257. Ah! The perils of pilgrim life. St Anthony never had it so good!

This post is sent from the Albergue San Antonio de Padua, in Villar de Mazariffe, 23 kms from Leon. If you think that I have chosen this refuge for its spiritual connections (St Anthony was a great Franciscan saint, the great aid in finding lost objects), its main rival in this pilgrim town is El Refuge de Jesus!

Today´s journey

It was such an unexpected joy to be back on the road again today at 6.30, walking through the streets of suburban Leon to the outer suburb of La Virgen del Camino (we don´t do suburb names well in Oz, do we?). There was a striking ultramodern (1961) church there on the site of a C16 pilgrim apparition that itself became a pilgrimage destination. The church was so interesting in its architecture with large bronze statues of the Apostles above the church door. The altar paid artistic homage to traditional Spanish retablos (altar pieces) but with a distinctly modern slant. It is under the care of the Dominicans. When I think of the ugly churches built in Australia in and around 1961 ....

The Camino followed the road for quite a bit until the quieter route that I chose lead through rich red-soil fields from Oncina de la Valdocina to Chozas de Abojor where, resting my Achilles tendon on a bag of ice kindly supplied by the bar (I had the bag!), along comes the delightful young Michael from Siegen near Koln whom I had not seen for several days. We had said goodbye in Hotonas, I think. He is about to start a career in teaching, at 25 in the German system of lengthy academic preparation. He had welcome news of other young friends not far away.

We walked on together to Villar de Mazarife where the voice of discretion told me to stop for the day. He planned to go on to Hospital de Obrogo, 15 kms away, since he has to finish the Camino by 2 June. I might break the 30 km next stage to Astorga there tomorrow night. Again, discretion rules. One of the lessons belatedly taken from the Camino.

This evening´s meal in the Albergue is salad for primero followed by paella. It will be a communal meal, at 7 pm. With vinotinto, agua, pan and postre, of course. We´ll fall happily into bed by 10 pm, ready to rise at 6 for tomorrow´s walking. It´s a medieval, monastic life in many ways. No one will go to the pub afterwards. There´s no disco in this town. Just a church with two nests of storks in its tower. The storks were stalking the noisy frogs in the pond as we walked into town. Other life goes on and on.

The future outlook

The montes de Leon, with snow on their peaks, beckon in the distance, about 50 kms away. Santiago is itself about 300 kms away. There are two ranges to cross, the second into Galicia wiht a climb on one day, to O´Cebreiro (from memory), from 600 m to 1550 m.

The next big town is Astorga, 30 kms away. It is where the Via de la Plata (or the Camino Mozarabe, the route taken by the Australian author Tony Kevin) from the south joins the Camino Frances for the journey to Santiago. The pressure and pulse will quicken with more and more pilgrims on the Way. Astorga also has a famous Gaudi building and other great religious and cultural sites.

I´m being strategic about my resources and will not rush the rest of the journey. It has 12 natural stages but I may subdivide some, if necessary. I do not want to risk permanent injury. I´ve promised Ana not to overlook the bus and I won´t. I´m also conscious of the disappointment that many fellow pilgrims have suffered in having to pull out, and my relative good fortune in continuing.

Ultreya!

From Leon

2008-05-21T13:07:00.013+02:00

These photos cover the period described in the post below, from 17 to 21 May 2008. As before, they follow the (chronological) narrative sequence of the post itself.
191. Sunrise behind the pilgrim's back leaving Hontonas
192. The hospice of San Anton and its Arco de San Anton on the approach to Castrojeritz. It was founded in the C11 to cure the pilgrim scourge St Anthony's Fire ofteh leading to gangrene.
193. The Arco de San Anton
194. Detail of the Arc
195. Entering Castrojeritz
196. Medieval cross
197. Possibly the Collegiate Church of Our Lady of the Apple (Nuestra Senora del Manzano) in Castrojeritz
198. Another of the significant medieval churches in Castrojeritz
199. The ruins of a castle in the distance from Castrojeritz
200. Intimations of mortality offered to the pilgrim and others
201. Another of Castrojeritz's churches, built to support and nourish medieval pilgrims 202. Welcome material provision for the medieval and later pilgrim
203. The climb ahead, to Alto Motelares
204. The view back from Alto Mostelares
205. The descent from Alto Mostelares onto the well cultivated plain and the path to Boadilla
206. The Meseta as the Spanish breadbasket
207. Three French pilgrims
208. The 11 arched Romanesque Puenta de Itero
209. It pays to advertise, even to pilgrims.
210. Mary's mother is a more central figure in Spanish religious practice and devotion. Queens Park could use such a calle.
211. The courtyard of the albergue at Boadilla del Camino
212. An interior view of the dormitory at the Boadilla albergue
213. The C16 church of Santa Maria at Boadilla, happily opened for us by a kind parishioner
214. Its treasure is this C14 stone baptismal font
215. Detail from a side altar-piece in the church
216. The rollo (gibbet?) in the square at Boadilla. 'Tis a caution against misbehaviour still.
217. The sunrise casts a orange-pink hue over the canal leading to Fromista
218. The Fromista canal lock gates
219. Outside Fromista en route to Carrion de los Condes
220. A view on the way from Fromista to Carrion
221. Hermitage of the Virgin of the River [Ucieza]
222. In these bodegas in the hillside where the locals store their personal wine collection secure from the summer heat. They seem to make themselves at home. And to think that some people go on about a man's shed.
223. A modern monument to the medieval pilgrim in Carrion
224. From the C12 Iglesia de Santa Maria del Camino in Carrion
225. The surviving Romanesque facade of the C12 Iglesia de Santiago in Carrion
226. Further detail of the Santiago facade
227. The private hotel operating in the former Monsterio de San Zoilo (see further photos below)
228. The C9 (and later) Monasterio de San Zoilo has had many uses since its original ministry to pilgrims. It is now operating as a private hotel. This is part of its original facade. 229. The modest parroquial church in Carrion with its own Rubens adoration of the Magi (see next photo)
230. The attribution is to Rubens (see previous photo)
231. Alex, Ana and Rosie, studying communications together in Madrid. Spanish communications could not be in better hands.
232. Dinner in Carrion with Richard and Renee (Quebec)
233. Monasterio de Santa Clara in Carrion
234. The church of the C11 Monasterio de San Zoilo, now part of a private hotel in Carrion
235. The altar piece in the church
236. The cloister of the Monasterio de San Zoilo
237. The San Zoilo cloister
238. The C12 Iglesia de Santa Maria in Carrion
239. The Cathedral at Leon
240. The extraordinary rose window in the Cathedral at Leon
241. Sad farewell dinner for Sallie (centre) on her last night as a pilgrim. Her great Camino friend Jennifer (USA) joined us for dinner in Leon.
242. The Benedictinas albergue in Leon
243. Antonio Gaudi in bronze in the square before his great Casa de Botines (see next photo)
244. Gaudi's Casa de Botines, with its nod to traditional Spanish architecture. The statue of the great man (see previous photo) is in the left foreground
245. The cloister of the Iglesia de San Isidore
246. The Door of Forgiveness at the Iglesia de San Isidore (see also #???)
247. Detail of the Door of Forgiveness in the C11 Iglesia de San Isidoro. In the Middle Ages, pilgrims too ill to proceed further might enter this door and obtain the full indulgence applying to completion of the Camino.
248. Farewell meal in Leon with mostly Italian pilgrims

Sorry for the silence. A mixture of reasons but too tedious to relate and to read.

Context of this blog

I´m writing from Leon to which I reluctantly travelled by bus (!!!) yesterday from Carrion de los Condes after problems with right Achilles tendon and foot over the past 10 days or so. I have not burdened readers with this information before, partly because I´ve been hoping it would self-correct. It won´t but I´m back on the Camino tomorrow for the remaining 326 kms, I hope.

On the basis of my self-diagnosis of Achilles tendon problems, my personal physician in Brisbane gave me expert advice to rest for a couple of days. That was on Monday morning, my time. Later that afternoon, I went to the Centro de Salud in Carrion who told me that it was not the evil Achilles tendon but ligament damage in my foot. That sounded better. I took the bus to Leon yesterday and today went to a physio who told me that what I have is a typical Achilles tendon problem. She treated me, put on a strip to stretch the tendon, told me to see another physio in 2-3 days, apply ice and Voltaren (not together) and walk slowly. I´ll do that.

It´s a pity to miss the 90 kms between Carrion and Leon but it´s the least interesting stretch. Perhaps it will give me time for the Camino Fisterre at the end, to Finisterre.

Hontanos to Boadilla, Saturday 17 May

It was a lovely dinner in Hontonas on Friday night with a young crowd of Germans, Hungarians, and three students from a Spanish university studying Communications, one Spanish, another from Switzerland of Iranian parents and the other from Mexico. Michael from Siegen played the guitar in the courtyard and we sang Beatles and other songs. Lovely night. Slept in a room with Sallie from Canada, Di from Melbourne, Catherine from Belgium (just defended her PhD in psychology of the emotions of guilt and shame at the Louvain. A 30 year old who reminds me so much of my Sophie). Also there were a German father and son, a lovely pair, and also a few non-Anglophone German snorers. (This is not Eden.)

The walk the next day was like much of the Camino, a walk to and through medieval villages formed to support pilgrims and leaving the remnants of a pilgrim infrastructure. There are few of the old pilgrim hostals left but the churches remain, often 3 or 4 in a town of no size of no significance (a permanent population of 200 or so would not be unusual). Sadly, the churches are usually closed as we walk through but the bars are open, usually in old buildings, with coffee, Coke, bocadillos (baguettes) of ham and cheese and los servicios, toilets. (There are no public toilets to my knowledge in Spain.) The gathering of pilgrims at the bars is part of the communal life of the Camino. More on that later.

Anyway, the walk from Hontonas leads through Castrojeritz. Before Castrojeritz is the remnant of the Gothich Convento de San Anton, built to care for pilgrims suffering from ergotism (leading to gangrene) in the 10 and 11th centuries. Then we climb the summit of Mostelares, walk for 500 metres and then descent steeply, walk across the Meseta again until the tiny village of Boadilla where I spent the evening at a lovely family owned albergue. We had an exceptional communal meal. The Iglesia of the Anuncion was open that afternoon. It is a lovely C16 church with a beautiful C14 stone baptismal font and outside it, in the square, a C15 rollo (gibbet)

Boadilla to Carrion de los Condes, Sunday 18 May

Set off at 6.30 for Carrion of the Counts (the rulers of the town, the Leonese Beni-Gomez family). Lovely sunrise behind me while I walked by a canal and, after Fromista, by the banks of the river Ucieza where the bird life and music was so rich and beautiful. 27 kms.

On Sunday evening I stayed at the Monasterio de Santa Clara where Francis of Assisi is thought to have stayed (but sadly not in my modern quarters). Lovely peregrino dinner with Quebec couple.

Carrion is rich with C12 and later churches most of which I see the inside of over Sunday and Monday. Had Mass on Monday morning at the Monasterio with its cloistered nuns singing from behind the other congregation of 5, three local women and two peregrinos.

Carrion de los Condes, Monday 19 May

Deciding to follow the wise advice from Brisbane, I stayed in Carrion for Monday, at the Real Monsterio San Zoilo, where there has been a Benediectine (Cluniac) monastery from the C10 serving pilgrims. Now it is a private hotel of some luxury and unspeakable beauty in its Inglesia and Renaissance cloister. All for 54 Euros for the night! I had dinner with peregrino chums in town. (Not sure that the hotel is ready for my green and yellow thongs at dinner.)

Carrion to Leon, Tuesday 20 May

Had a lie in, a smorgasbord brekkie at the hotel, my beard removed at the hairdressers and took the bus to Leon with Sallie from Canada. (Friends just keep recurring--I ran into so many on Monday around Carrion.)

Sallie and I settled into the albergue at Leon run by lovely hospitaleros for the Benedictine nuns. In the afternoon I went to the extraordinary cathedral in Leon. Its internal light with 125 or so stained glass windows is extraordinary. Only Chartres stands with it overall. I shall never forget it. Went to Mass in a side chapel that was once a library before Napoleon´s forces sacked it.

Sadly, just before Mass at 6 pm, Sallie has her runes read by a fellow Canadian, a paramedic, who told her that she was facing serious risk of a clot etc if she continues with her distended veins. She was teary, of course. She wanted to finish the trek to SdC and she is made of strong stuff in a tiny frame. (She reminds me of both Merle and Bernice, two great troopers who have also had their losses.) We had a farewell dinner (we are a day ahead of most of our cohort still on the trail). Happily, I spotted her great friend, Jennifer, an Episcopalian Minister from Rhode Island, who joined us for the meal. Jennifer also has Achilles tendon problems and has been resting in a lovely pension in Leon. She arranged for me to take it over for one night- tonight - before I get back on the road tomorrow. She set off again this morn.

Wedding anniversary

Tomorrow will be my 37th wedding anniversary. It´s a great pity to be celebrating it away from Ana but I shall be home in 3 weeks. I shall ask friends at the Camino meal tomorrow night to raise their glasses of vinotinto to her. May they share some of my joy.

Ultreyia tomorrow. Farewell, friends.

From Hontonas

2008-05-16T18:02:00.009+02:00

The photos below were taken during the period covered by this blog post, that is, from 14-16 May 2008. Indeed, the post is silent with respect to 14 May when I walked from Belorado to Ages. As before, these photos are added well after the blog post and roughly follow its (chronological) narrative sequence.
160. An early start from Belorado
161. A view of the C12 hermitage of Our Lady of the Rock, seen while leaving Tosantos 162. A view from the Camino
163. Approaching Espinosa del Camino
164. The church at Espinosa
165. Local art
166. Ruins of the C9 Monasterio de San Felix
167. Approaching Villafranca de Montes de Oca ('Villafranca' indicates the French influence in the village's foundation)
168. The church in the square in Villafranca
169. The road out from Villafranca
170. Two Hungarian pilgrims making the climb up from Villafranca
171. A view back on the valley below
172. One of many impromptu devotional grottos along the way created by the local residents or visitors
173. Monumento de los Caidos: a monument to the victims of the Spanish Civil War 1936-1939
174. Sepulchre for San Juan de Ortega in the church in the village that bears his name. His remains are, however, buried elsewhere. I had intended to stay at the adjacent albergue. However, the death a few days earlier of its legendary parish priest, great provider of onion soup and other hospitality for pilgrims (and the consequent, hopefully temporary, closure of the albergue), forced us to travel on to Ages.
175. Approaching Ages
176. The main street in Ages with its two albergues
177. Dinner in the albergue at Ages. From left: Gabor (Hungary), Agata (Hungary), Michael (Germany), Edina (Hungary) and Phillipe (France)
178. The Puente Canto between Ages and Atapuerca (not in current use)
179. Looking back on Atapuerca en route to Burgos
180. A cross, presumably the result of spontaneous religious devotion
181. Circle of stones, provenance unknown
182. Burgos cathedral
183. Tympanum detail from the Burgos cathedral
184. Dinner in Burgos: Erica (Koln), Rodney (Brazil), Fernando (Valencia) and unknown pilgrim
185. Pascal (Switzerland) and Serano (Byron Bay)
186. En route to Hornillos, 16 May
187. Erica on the Camino towards Hornillos
188. Approaching Hontonas where I stayed on the evening of 16 May
189. Entering Hontonas, classic Camino village
190. Michael leading the music making outside the albergue in Hontonas after dinner

Greetings from Hotonas on the Meseta, the flat tableland plateau in northern Spain. It runs, more or less, until Leon.

Ages to Burgos, Thursday 15 May

I left Ages yesterday morning for Burgos. We tramped along a very muddy path through fields of wheat with rain threatening but never really developing. Poor signage took us through villages whose bars were not always ready to welcome us. Then we trekked through the suburbs of Burgos to its historic centre. Many pilgrims went onto the municipal albergue 2 kms onwards. I stayed in a very congenial hotel in the centre. I did some more shopping for a gaitor and extra pair of sox and posted more stuff on in disgrace to Santiago de Compostela for collection at journey's end.

I had intended to stay an extra day in Burgos to revive but found it unnecessary and a distraction. A few others are staying a night to explore. I did not even see the interior of the beautiful cathedral, the town's centrepiece. Not as good as Koln's, the loyal Germans say. It shares common design and artisan inputs. That experience can be shared with Ana when we travel here together. Burgos is a wealthy, lively, energetic, stylish and beautiful city. It takes itself seriously. It was firmly on Franco's side in the Civil War, I understand. Much of this region was.

I had a great dinner last night with fellow peregrinos, the best of the peregrino meals I've had on the Camino. All for a modest 12 Euro.

Burgos to Hontanos, Friday 16 May

Trekked through the suburbs of Burgos from 7 am to join wheatfields with some oats and barley, and the slow climb to the Meseta, the start of a new geographical phase of the Camino. This is the bread basket of Spain and makes for peaceful and reflective walking. It is muddy still--such water and rainfall, and the dense green, is wholly unfamiliar to Australian eyes.

Many peregrinos stopped at Hornillas after 20 kms. I want to stay at Boadilla and Carrion del Condes and so went on to Hontonas, a total of 32 kms. It is a classic pilgrim town based largely on the Camino. I'm staying at El Puntido, a comfortable private Albergue.

Other pilgrims

There are so many to mention but a few stand out. I walk quickly with my long legs but was amazed to arrive today just after Sallie, a Canadian widow at least 5 years older than me and much smaller in frame. We left so many youngsters behind. Maurice from France, at 76 and with a slender frame, is just outstanding. We slept cheek to jowl in Logroño-"Bon soir, Paul", "Bon soir, Maurice". Phillipe from France is also so memorable, a horseshoe maker and horseman, but a fuller note here might breach confidences and not do justice to him and his interesting story. The Camino holds many heroes and they each have their undisclosed reason to be here. Some, I suppose, are just masochists.

Death of a Camino hero

The albergue at San Juan de Ortega was closed as we came though it a couple of days ago. Its parish priest served garlic onion soup nightly to pilgrims and is justly famous on the Camino. Sadly, he died a few days ago. He will be greatly missed.

Must run to dinner with friends. Sorry for typing etc solecisms. No spellcheck and unfamiliar keyboard. And pressure on the single computer in the albergue.

De Ages, en comunidad de Castille y Leon

2008-05-14T16:42:00.010+02:00

The following photos were taken on the days covered in this blog post. As with the post itself, they are mostly in chronological order.
105. Taking coffee in a bar in Torres del Rio. Another Australian has left his mark. 106. The C12 Iglesia de Santo Sepulcro in Torres del Rio.
107. The cross-ribbed dome of the cupola of the Iglesia de Santo Sepulcro
108. The Iglesia de Santa Maria de la Asuncion in Viana
109. A wider view of the Viana church
110. The delightful Gudrun and Gerhard after lunch in Viana. Our paths happily crossed many times. Note the ubiquitous plasma screen in the background.
111. Vineyards, leaving Logrono for Navarette
112. The rich mud of La Rioja that produces the remarkable local vinotinto (red wine)
113. Crosses made from bark from the local paper mill added as a makeshift devotional site
114. Approaching Navarette. The Camino is essentially a series of walks between small medieval villages.
115. The ruins of the C12 monastery of San Juan de Acre formed to care for pilgrims
116. Cemetery outside Navarette. Its most striking feature is the entrance door which was taken from the pilgrim hospice at San Juan de Acre (see #115)
117. A side view of the cemetery
118. A view from the Camino approaching Najera 119. A welcome to pilgrims entering Najera: "Pilgrim, In Najera, you are one of us [one born here]". Irrestible.
120. Late afternoon, around 4.30 pm, in the albergue at Najera
121. The zona natural leaving Najera, in early morning light
122. The way ahead 10 minutes later
123. Another early morning Camino view on 12 May leaving Najera bound for Santa Domingo de la Calzada
124. Another early morning Camino view
125. Gert (Belgium), Marie (Sydney) and Chris (Brisbane) taking an early coffee at Azrofa. This is breakfast for most pilgrims.
126. Agata and Edina (Hungary), Michael (Siegen in Germany) and Gabor (Hungary) doing the same.127. A morning view from the Camino
128. A further view from the Camino en route to Santo Domingo
129. This roadside medieval structure between two small villages is known as a picota or rollo. Their medieval funcitons were as signposts but also possibly to punish law breakers. Some may have been used as gallows. The carvings on the arms of this picota are so worn as to be unrecognizable.
130. Looking back towards Azofra, but making for Santo Domingo de la Calzada 131. The slow climb towards Santo Domingo de la Calzada
132. Approaching Santa Domingo de la Calzada 133. A procession for the feast of Santo Domingo de la Calzada. The delight taken in children is captured in the right rear. Saints must wait!
134. In the procession a statue of Santo Domingo is carried through the streets before the bishop in his mitre and carrying his crook 135. No bunk beds in my albergue in Santo Domingo! Unrolled sleeping bags claim the bed. This albergue has been run by the Cistercian nuns in the Calle de los Monjes (street of the nuns) for centuries.
136. A statue of Santo Domingo, carer for pilgrims, in the Cathedral
137. The Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) at siesta time
138. A square in Santo Domingo just before siesta time
139. The sign on the albergue door that pilgrims fear: ""Completo. Full. Complet". Franz from Holland, on the left, is undettered.
140. Gathering for a service in the Cathedral as part of the festival of Santo Domingo
141. Another view of the Cathedral
142. The bell tower stands separately from the Cathedral
143. The medieval streets of Santa Domingo at siesta time
144. The interior of the Cathedral at Santo Domingo
145. The day ends congenially with dinner with Fernando from Valencia.
146. The church at Granon, 7 kms on from Santa Domingo. Its albergue is justly for famous for its hospitality and the communal experience shared by its pilgrims.
147. This sign tells us that we are entering the Junta de Castilla y Leon, the largest of the autonomous regions on the Camino. (The next is in far off Galicia.) Here we leave the region of La Rioja. Before that was Navarre.
148. A view from the road towards Redecilla de Camino 149. Entering Viloria de la Rioja (the reference to Rioja is to the Rio Oja and not to the autonomous region we had just left behind)
150. En route to Belorado
151. En route to Belorado
152. The church of Santa Maria at Belorado. Note the storks nesting in the bell tower. Ah, spring in southern Europe! The parroquial (ie, parish run) albergue where I stayed is next door on the right of the church (obscured).
153. These caves were once occupied by hermits but have been converted for more comfortable modern (religious) living.
154. The parish church of San Pedro in the main plaza of Belorado. The church was built in the C18 although it replaces a C13 structure.
155. A processional statue of St James in in his martyred state, in the church of Santa Maria
156. A processional statue of St James in pilgrim dress in the same church
157. After inspecting the church none of us is in a hurry to make the dash in rain to the albergue next door.
158. A happy French pilgrim enjoys the ministrations of the Swiss hospitlero and a German pilgrim.
159. Some peregrinos in the albergue at Belorado. Karl, the Swiss hospitalero, is third from the left. On the right are three impressive Dutch women.

It is quite a while since my last post in Los Arcos. So much has happened since and many kilometres covered. Sorry for the silence. Not all albergues have Internet connection.

Logroño, Saturday 10 May

After Mass in the sumptuous (de trop--mix of extravagant styles but breathtaking nonetheless) parish church of Los Arcos the night before and its following Pilgrim´s blessing from the rather charismatic priest, I set off early morning for Logroño, 28 kms away. It was a punishing day in the rain and rich red mud, brightened by a Mother´s Day call (!!) from Mum, Mark and Chris (she´s in good hands) and the simple elegance of the tiny C12 church of the Holy Sepulchre in Torres del Rio. We had to walk on the highway for some of the way since the path was so wet. At Nuestra Senora Del Poyo, a mist rolled in and visibility was low. Trucks roared towards us. I met the delightful Fernando from Valencia (among others) gently sauntering. [We were to get to know each other well over the coming weeks.]

Just before entering Logroño. we passed into the comunidad (autonomous region with some devolved government functions) of La Rioja. Great wine growing region.

Had a delightful lunch in Viana with Gerhard and Gudrun from Bonn making the Camino on foot but staying in hotels with reservations. Gerhard has done it before on bicycle from Bonn but Gudrun has some standards. They warmed me with their unfussed urbanity and grace. Mr Gore's waterproofing failed at one spot on my left boot and it felt miserable for much of the time--the same foot as my ulcerated blister. Had it dressed in the evening in Logrono by a young Spanish doctor. Wish I could have understood her instructions for dressing but Marie saved me the next night (see below).

I stayed at the municipal albergue, the second last person to get in. (It´s ridiculously crowded on the Camino, not the track itself but the demand on accommodation.) Spent the night, after a delightful dinner in the Cafe Moderna with Jack from Holland (he is making the Camino for wife who died 7 months ago), sleeping at very close quarters between Utte from Germany and Maurice from France. Maurice´s English is so bad that we converse in French (yes, that bad).

Nahera, Sunday May 11

Made the long 29 om trek to Nahera. Wet, tiring day but the sun came out in the afternoon and I got some washing done. Welcoming hospitaleros in the albergue.

I stayed in the municipal albergue where one of the Australians, Marie from Summer Hill, saw my blister which I was airing. She told she was a nurse and give me great directions on how to dress it. It started to mend almost immediately. Still doing so some days later. It was great to catch up with pilgrims from previous days. I had dinner with Francois in the evening. We had first met at Orisson. He commenced the Camino at Le Puy.

Santo Domingo de la Calzada, Monday May 12

It was great to be in town for the last day of the annual festival for the name saint of the town who did so much for the Camino´s development in C12. His statue was processed through town on the shoulders of carriers before the Bishop. Everyone followed in suits and formal dresses. Bells tolled and dancers and musicians added to the festival. It was a public holiday, of course. (Christmas must be big in this town.) I had dinner and a passeo, a wander around town, with Fernando. A wealthy town very tied to the Camino and tourism.

Belorado, Tuesday 13 May

Stayed in the parish albergue of this lovely town. Two beautiful churches, one with storks nesting high above it in its bell tower. Welcoming hospitaleros, Carla and Karl, from Germany and Switzerland. I set off early for Ages, 30 kms away.

Must run. There is pressure for the Internet.

De Los Arcos

2008-05-09T15:59:00.020+02:00

The following photos were taken on Friday 9 May 2008, the day covered in this blog post. They follow the order of the blog, mostly chronological order.
85. Leaving Estella for Irache in the dull early morning light 86. Three Brazilian pilgrims at the Pilgrim wine fountain at Irache. Alex from San Paolo in the foreground is tempted to exchange his water for wine but shows remarkable restraint. The hour perhaps helps--it is 8 am.
87. The parish church at Irache
88. Heading out of Irache
89. The muddy track en route to Azqueta. It was to get much worse.
90. The view from the Camino a little further on
91. Approaching Azqueta
92. Entering Azqueta
93. Inglesia de San Pedro 94. Approaching Villamayor de Monjardin. The ruins of St Stephen's Castle can be seen on the top of the hill overlooking VdM
95. Villamayor de Monjardin
96. The church in Villamayor de Monjardin
97. Seeking shelter in wet and windy conditions on the way to Los Arcos
98. A view from the Way
99. Another view on the way into Los Arcos
100. The C12 Inglesia de Santa Maria de los Arcos
101. The church's cloister
102. Inglesia de Santa Maria de los Arcos
103. The conclusion of the Pilgrim Blessing in the church at Los Arcos
104. The altar piece in the church at Los Arcos

Today

Today I walked from Estella to Los Arcos, a distance of 22 kms. The path went through the heights of Villamajor de Monjardin (650 km), mostly through ultra green fields of grain. It was another soft day--a slow drizzle that got stronger but never heavy. It was good to have the rain jacket and pants. It is incredibly peaceful and calm. Too much so at times that I need to watch carefully for the painted yellow arrows. At one stage today, I thought I heard my name being called and indeed it was, by three young women in chorus 300m behind me, to tell me that I was taking the wrong way. How grateful I was. The Camino is long enough as it is (over 800 kms from St Jean with my voluntary detours to Eunate etc).

Tonight I´m staying in Albergue La Fuente, a private albergue run by a group of Austrians. I´m not sure if they are volunteers or not. I´ll enquire. There is a good spirit among them and it's a lovely place. The word on the Camino, confirmed by Anne who has been looking at posts on Pilgrim Forums, is that there is great pressure on the albergues. It´s my 9th night in one and every one is a bonus. I just took the first I could get today (the rain was getting heavier) and it´s great. An Englishman with a caravan 4 kms out of Los Arcos was offering coffee and cake for a donatavio. He told us that we were getting into Las Arcos late (news to some of my fellow pilgrims there since it was only 1 pm) and that 100 people had already been past him, the first shortly after he had set up at 7 am (this fellow was coming only from Villamajor). He told us that the municipal albergue would be full already. We had to be out of our albergue in Estella this morning between 4 and 7.15 am!!

There will be a time when I do not find accommodation in an albergue but that is something I´ll deal with, probably by staying at a hotel or hostal. I do not want to get into a race for a bed--it is against what I see as the spirit of the Camino. In a very limited sense, it gives you a feeling for those who have no home, especially in rainy nights. Expose yourself to feel what wretches feel, said Lear, to show the heavens more just. My situation now, far removed, is probably the closest I´ll get to that felt daily by homeless people.

Today´s highlights?

The fuente del vino at Irache offers pilgrims free red wine from a fountain. Had it not been 8 am and cool, I might have been tempted to take more, perhaps a bottle full. There are as always beautiful churches on the way but almost invariably closed. I met a male pilgrim from Hailifax in Yorkshire today walking in the opposite direction who had started in Finisterre to the west of Santiago de Compostella. He was on his way to Venice. On foot!!

Companions

Companions are always a highlight of the Camino. Last night I had a great dinner with the Irish 5 who left for home this morning. I miss them since they were funny, welcoming, big-hearted people. Poor Laura, who was to have walked to Loa Arcos today, fell ill during the night and was unable to walk. She will made her way back to Bilbao by bus and home by Ryanair tomorrow.

But as soon as one chapter closes, another begins. Today I met three Australians--Marie from
Summer Hill, Romeo from central Sydney and a third in this albergue [there were three others in the albergue, Serano from Byron Bay, Marie's brother Mick and his friend Chris from Brisbane]. Don´t know his name yet. Alexandrse from San Pâolo and Jana from Berlin are also here in the albergue. Young folk from Orisson. Marie was walking with two other young women, Lindsay from Colorado and Gert from Belgium. They were the chorus of three who rescued me from an even longer Camino. They are also in this albergue. Marie´s brother is also on the Camino. They are grand folk (I'm slipping again into Irish). And some folk from Casa Paderborn in Pamplona are also here tonight.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a longer section, if I proceed as I hope to, to Logroño. Almost 28 kms. It´s day 9 of walking and a longer section than any other. I´ll take it easy. Like many (most) others, I´m carrying some foot discomfort, in my case from the drained blister, and soft tissue pain on the right hip and shoulders. Nothing major. Part of the Camino. I used the Voltaren today for the first time and will do so more regularly from now on. I´m not used to this muscle inflammation. Exercise at last, at age 60!

Fondly.

Ultreya. A Logroño (or Viana at least).

En Estella

2008-05-08T21:23:00.014+02:00

The photos below cover the single day, Thursday 8 May 2008, the subject of the blog post below. The photos are in the order of the narrative in the post itself, mostly chronological order.
66. The bridge that gives Puenta la Reina its name 67. The Irish crew on the climb to Cirauqui68. A view en route to Cirauqui
69. The hilltop village of Cirauqui, about 8 kms from Puenta la Reina
70. This bridge on the way out of Cirauqui on the way to Lorca is certainly medieval and may even be Roman 71. Another view of the bridge
72. Brendan photographing his nephew Padraic before the bridge
73. Snatching lunch in the sanctuary of the church (well, not in the sanctuary)
74. The church at Villatuerta Puente
75. Entering Estella during the siesta. Only the albergue (on the left) is open.
76. A view from the bridge at Estella
77. Inglesia del San Pedro de la Rua
78. Detail of the entrance to San Pedro
79. C12 cloister attached to the church of San Pedro
80. Detail of the cloister
81. C14 Inglesia del Santo Sepulchro
82. A closer view of the Gothic tympnaum and entrance door of this church
83. Further detail of the tympanum
84. Dinner in Estella before the Irish crowd go home. The movement of the shot catches the the delight and fun of the evening. In the background are Angela from Koln and her father Michael who accompanied her on two sections of the Camino. Our paths crossed constantly.

Notes written after a long days walk and a boozy, craic-filled dinner in Estella.

It was a great 21 km walk from Puenta La Reina to Estella, still in Navarra. It was, as the Irish say, a soft day, a day of light rain drizzling down. We passed fields under a variety of cultivation-grapes, asparagus and wheat-like crops. It was very muddy underfoot. It´s more than a little like Tuscany and Umbria with green fields leading up to mountain ridges in the distance, and brown, medieval houses with tile roofs dotting the landscape. We walk from one village to another. The churches and the bars are the highlights.

We had a lovely lunch on the porch of one church, the Irish family of Michael and Rita from Kilkenny, Michael´s brother Brendan and M and R´s youngest child, Padraic, and their friend Laura who introduced me to them. We were joined by Jana from Berlin and Alex from San Paolo, whom I had met at Orisson. We shared bread, cheese and sausage, and lots of laughter.

We passed through Lorca with its beautiful church and finished at Estella (Spanish for star) where I just squeezed into the municpal albergue. (I walked separately from them in the afteroon since I was feeling my blister wound.) Happily, there was a Red Cross clinic in Estella where it was dressed and I was told not to wash it before tomorrow night.

It´s busy on the Way although it may be that it settles down a bit as people break the journey to return home. I know of 10 Irish who will go home in the next day or so, finishing the Way later on, perhaps over several years. I shall miss the group. They are great fun and so welcoming, Each is so delightful in an individual way. Padraic is just so bright and lively and Brendan so knowledgeable and generous. I shall miss them all tomorrow, travelling to Los Arcos without them. We´ve just had a great peregrino dinner together.

Estella is very wealthy. So many antique shops! And beautiful churches with such a distinctive style. So different to Italian churches.

The hospitalero is closing me down (early). Must run. More soon.

From Cizur to Puente La Reina

2008-05-07T18:17:00.020+02:00

The photos below relate to the single day, Wednesday 7 May 2008, the subject of the blog post below. The photos mostly follow the order of the story in the post itself, that is, chronological order. The first photo is an exception.
65. This dinner shot should appear below at the bottom of this sequence (if only I had the wit to move it)
48. Leaving Cizur Menor, passing fields that were not always so peaceful. 49. Changeable early morning light
50. The church of St Andrew at Zariquiegui, 6kms from Cizur Menor
51. The Romanesque doorway of the church at Zariquiegui
52. The Alto del Perdon in the distance, the task ahead
53. Looking back on the way up the Alto del Perdon
54. The flat iron silhouettes of medieval pilgrims at the top of the Alto del Perdon
55. The Gothic church at Uterga
56. Happily, the church at Uterga was open since women were setting out the altar
57. One of the highlights of the Camino: the C12 Romanesque church of Santa Maria de Eunate
58. Laura at Eunate
59. Another pilgrim at Eunate
60. The remains of the portico at Eunate
61. The arch of the doorway at Eunate
62. The church at Eunate
63. The Church of the Crucifixion at Puenta le Reina
64. Dinner at the albergue outside Puenta la Reina. From left: Brendan, Paul, Laura, Padraig, Rita and Michael.

Today´s journey

Today I made the journey from Senora Roncal´s albergue in Cizur Menor to Puente La Reina (the Bridge of the Queen), with a detour to see the beautiful 12th century church at Eunate.

I made an early start at last, about 6.45. It was glorious making the slow climb out of CM across peaceful green fields that were once the site of a major 8th century battle between Charlemagne (Charles the Great of France) and a Muslim army. The climb continued up the Alto de Pardon (the Hill of Forgiveness), a slow climb up the top of a mountain range that is covered with wind turbines. It was a climb of 300 m. Then we descended, at first sharply and then more easily, onto a flat plain. That took us through villages, whose principal feature at least architecturally, was often its church. These have often been modest but always extraordinarily beautiful.

A particularly beautiful church was that at Eunate. It´s a 12th century church that was built to receive pilgrims and many are said to be buried there although there is no formal grave that I could see. The church is a small octagon with a cupola for the altar. Very simple. This detour added an hour to the journey and about 3-4 kms. I got into PlR at about 3.30. About 25 kms in all. There was a light fall of rain today and I got to put on the rain jacket (it works, Mum) and rain pants (ditto, Mark M). Thanks to you both. A big fall held off but rain is forecast for Friday. Indeed, it has been unseasonably hot and particularly fine and sunny for this time of year.

Companions

It was good to meet some old friends from previous albergues and to meet some new ones today. There are a few Irish families here since its a non-teaching week in their universities. I met Laura from Greystones, a suburb south of Dublin, at the top of the Alto del Pardon. She hails originally from Enniscorthy, close to Wexford on the east coast where my father´s folks hail from. She was a contemporary and friend of Niall Toibin, the younger brother of the writer Colm. Niall died of a condition contracted while on volunteer service in Africa. The Toibin kids, Laura said, are lovely and ¨did not lick it off a stone¨ (ie, they got it from their lovely parents).

Laura introduced me a few other Irish and I´m off to dinner with them in a few minutes in the albergue. They go back on Friday and Saturday. Two of them have a son, Padraig, of about 12 or 13 who is doing just great on the Camino. [A photo of this dinner has been added above.]

General mood and conditions

No one is in a hurry to rush into town from our albergue a little outside it--there are a few hobbles among the pilgrims who are now feeling aches and pains from the constancy of the walking. I´m feeling OK although I´ll apply some Voltaren to my shoulder muscles to ease the discomfort from the exercise in using the walking poles. They are great, however.

Online resources

I cannot upload photos from my camera to these computers. However, there are online resources that have photos and Google maps of the Camino route. See www.godesalco.com/maps/frances for the Camino Frances and www.caminolinks.co.uk/4814.html .

A Estella! Following the stars.

News from Cizur Menor

2008-05-06T15:30:00.060+02:00

The photos below relate to the blog post that follows and covers the same period, 1-6 May 2008. They are, however, in reverse chronological order. The numbering is a guide to the proper sequence. (This ordering problem is corrected in the following posts.) The photos were added after I had completed the Camino.
47. The Roncal residence seen from the albergue's garden 46. The courtyard garden in Albergue Roncal, Cizur Menor
45. Albergue Roncal in Cizur Menor
44. The Pamplona Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) with some young citizens
43. The same square that contains the Hotel Perla. The awning protects patrons in the Ernest Hemingway Bar.
42. The Hotel Perla where Hemingway stayed when in Pamplona for the running of the bulls in 1923 and where he later spent time writing Fiesta, his first novel, based in Pamplona.
41. A plaza in Pamplona at 5 pm after the siesta. Many public squares and churches provide play equipment for children.
40. A statue of St Francis of Assisi on the plza outside a school in Pamplona
39. The Puenta de la Magdalena into Pamplona
38. The bridge into Trinidad de Arre, an outer suburb of Pamplona
37. En route Pamplona
36. Looking back on the route towards Pamplona
35. The bridge before Zalbadika, en route to Pamplona (5 May)

34. Dinner in Zubiri (4 May). Gabor (Hungary) is on the right then, anti-clockwise, Raymond (South Africa), Brian (Belfast) and a Koln man and his sister in law. 33. Alberto and his grandfather. Alberto reminded me of someone with thickening legs in Brisbane.
32. More of the same crossing as #31.
31. Mixed woodland on the climb over the Linzoan pass to Alto de Erro.
30. A French pilgrim and friend at Viskarret.
29. Leaving Burguete for Espinal.
28. Entering Burguete.
27. On the road to Santiago again. Next stop Burguete (4 May).
26 The C12 Romanesque chapel of the Holy Spirit. it is though to have been a medieval pilgrim burial site.
25. The C13 chapel of St James at Roncesvalles. Its bell has tolled lost pilgrims home for 800 years.
24. The Royal Collegiate Church of Saint Mary at Roncesvalles.
23. Pilgrims waiting for the albergue at Roncesvalles to open. It was originally a medieval pilgrim hospital.
22. The much loved yellow arrow guiding pilgrims.
21. Isabel and Fernando in the chestnut groves on the descent to Roncesvalles.
20. A glimpse of Roncesvalles with Burguete in the distance.
19. On top of the world!
18. Taking a break with Nicole, a French pilgrim who commenced the Camino at Le Puy.
17. Only 765 kms to go!
16. On the way to Roncesvalles with Fernando. Isabel's photo.
15. Fernando and Isabel take a break before the descent to Roncesvalles. Note the French and Basque renderings of "Roncesvalles" in the sign behind them.
14. The view back on the upward climb to the Cize Pass.
13. The statue of the Virgin seen more closely. It is just one of many sites of devotion on the Camino.
12. At Pic D'Orisson, the statue of the Virgin.
11. Refuge Orisson looking back from the track leading up and over the Pyrenees.
10. Dinner at Refuge Orison, the private refuge where I spent the night of 2 May, breaking the journey across the Pyrenees from SJPP to Roncesvalles.
9. Much the same view as #8 but not obscured by pilgrim.
8. At the end of the first day's walking, at Refuge Orisson, looking back towards SJPP.
7. The view back to SJPP from near Honto about 4 kms out.
6. The bell tower in SJPP tells the hour of exit.
5. Contented companions on the road out of SJPP.
4. Heading down towards the Porta de Espanga for the Pyrenees.
3. Setting off on 2 May.
2. The church is on the left. Note the two languages in the sign on the
right and the preference expressed in the top line for Basco (the Basque
language) over French
1. Late afternoon in SJPP. The municipal albergue where I stayed is
in the right foreground.

This is a rather slow in the gestation second post. It´s taken me a bit of time to get the hang of things generally and the time to write this.

Crossing the Pyrenees: St Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles, 1-3 May 2008

It´s been a heady trip so far. My first night on the Camino was in Saint Jean Pied de Port on the French side of the Pyrenees. This is the traditional confluence point for pilgrims entering Spain via France, from the north via Paris and Tours or from the mid and south of France via Vezelay or Le Puy (depends whether they were walking from Germany, England etc). Saint Jean is a basque village of great beauty. It has been receiving pilgrims for over 1000 years.

On the evening of 1 May, after a flight from London Stansted to Biarritz on Ryanair and a shared taxi to SJPP, I stayed in the old stone albergue (dormitory refuge for pilgrims). Others stayed in a variety of private albergues and some in the local sports pavilion. There were 490 pilgrims who registered in SJPP on 1 May, a very high figure reflecting the public holiday that day in much of Europe. The surge is on and I do not have a feeling yet whether it will be full all the way to Santiago de Compostela. The albergues have been full so far.

Anyway, back to SJPP. The climb up the Pyrenees is very steep especially in the first 8 or 9 kms to Orisson. I stayed the first night there in a private refuge. It was a pleasant, mixed bunch of pilgrims, a good number of French, some of whom I have gotten to know from the communal dinner and meetings since on the Camino. You do keep running into old friends on the road. It´s a sadness, however, to know that, because of different speeds of travelling you, will not see some again. A real warmth is sometimes generated between groups of people on the Camino despite language differences. I mean the lack of a shared tongue. Some people in Europe just dont realise that English is the world language!! A few of them are French.

On Saturday, May 3, I completed the climb over the Pyrenees and the descent into the pilgrim hostel and church community at Roncesvalles. It was another spectacular day with wonderful views, blessed weather (it can be treacherous if a sudden squall sets in) and with a brisk challenging wind. The 12th century writer of the Liber Sancti Jacobi, the first of the many guide books for the Camino, says that at the Cize Pass the mountains seem to touch the sky. While it was a climb for the medieval pilgrim, it avoided the dangers of the lower route where the road now runs, that of brigands etc. Napoleon took the high route in his two crossings, the second an excursion into Spain with uncivil intent. The crossing is now called the Route Napoleon, perhaps a French initiative.

The trip down was made even better for me by meeting Fernando and Isabel from Barcelona. We met in the usual pilgrim way, when they asked me to take their photo at Pic D'Orisson, a statue of the Virgin above Orisson. (We took many photos of each other that day.) I made some comment on their famous names, Ferninand of Castille and Isabel of Aragon, and that started a marvellous conversation on Spanish history, politics and life. They met when Isabel, a student activist in the last phase of Franco´s regime, was one of a group involved in protecting Fernando from arrest in 1975 via a barricade of students. (Fernando was organising a major national general strike.) Fernando said, that´s my girl. Isobel explained that students in that period did not give their names to peers but used nicknames lest they be subjected to torture by police. She was arrested twice. Sadly, I fear that I shall not meet such interesting, generous and warm hearted people again on the Camino. Perhaps I am being too pessimistic. We´ll see. However, Im confident that I´ll see them again since we have exchanged email adresses. Like many Europeans, they are doing the Camino is stages only and covered the section this time from SJPP to Burguete only, before returning to work on Monday, May 5.

Roncesvalles is a small cluster of pilgrim buildings. The pilgrim hostel-hospice is 800 years old, a large, high roofed stone building. Dutch (volunteer) hospitaleros run it now as a 120 bed (60 bunk) dormitory. The overflow is housed in the Albergue Juvenil. There was Mass at 1800 hours followed by a pilgrim blessing by pilgrim country in the medieval church. (The Pilgrim Mass has been offered daily for hte past 800 or so years, I understand.) Then, a pilgrim meal in the two inns that survive (together these buildings make up the whole of Roncesvalles). By chance I was seated at a table of 4 at the meal with two Australians from Freemantle, Greg and Annette, and their friend Gabe from Arizona and Glascow. Great people and great craic with the last bottle of wine taken outside after our meal setting ended. The pilgrim meal was trout--this is still high country (800 m above sea level, the peak of the Pyrenees is 1450m)--and the fishing here attracted Hemingway in 1923, in the little town of Burguete, 3 kms from Roncesvalles. He transferred much of that fishing trip (and his own life at the time) into his first novel Fiesta (aka The Sun Also Rises). There is something of a small Hemingway industry here. Thus, the Hotel Burguete has a piano signed by him, the Ernest Hemingway Bar is still the flashest in Pamplona and the Hotel Perla where he stayed there is the most expensive in Pamplona.

Roncesvalles to Pamplona, 4-5 May 2008

On Sunday, I set out from Roncesvalles for Zubiri or Larraoaña. You first pass through Burguette, where I stopped for breakfast in a bar and then headed on. Disaster (of a minor sort) hit me within a short time. I felt a soreness at the back of the left heel and, following Adrian and Catherine´s advice, put on a compeed but it was too late, the blister had formed. A generous self-styled Blister Doctor drained it for me that evening in the albergue in Zubiri and all is well with it now. I think that the blister was caused by the new, unwashed sox I was wearing. They´ve been given a second chance to prove themselves, and a thorough washing.

Back to the Camino. Day 3 (May 4) was generally a descent through villages below Roncesvalles, through beautiful woodland with a couple of climbs. A pleasant enough albergue in Zubiri and a good pilgrim dinner with people from 5 different countries. I met Gabor at this dinner and this friendship grew throughout the Camino to my great advantage.

Thence on Monday 5 May to Pamplona. There had been rain overnight and I was expecting to have to put on the Paddy Pallin rain jacket, a gift from my mother, and the borrowed rain pants from Mark. Happily, the rain held off and the walk to Pamplona was clear and dry. It was firstly through beautiful bushland wet and fresh from the evening´s rain and then through the suburbs of Pamplona. I received my first Buen Camino that morning from a non-pilgrim (pilgrims are always saying it to each other). Being the first, I decided to pull out a big response to the man. ¨Gracias¨ alone would not do. I said to him ¨Dios te bendiga¨ (May God bless you). He looked a little non-plussed but, passing the next bulding, I realised that he was probably the parish priest, more used to giving hte blessing than receiving it.

In Pamplona, I stayed last night in a highly recommended albergue, Casa Padeborn, run by a German evangelical group of hospitaleros. Ernst and Doris were my delightful hosts. Every other pilgrim there was German I realised--this albergue is really for German pilgers. But they were very happy to receive an Australian and the other pilgers, especially over the communal pilgrim dinner in the nearby sports complex, were very friendly. (A friendly Brit emerged at the end of the day, just before lights out at 10pm to take the bed in the top of the bunk above me.) Germans seem to make up the principal pilgrim group at the moment by some margin (the German comedian Happe Kerkeling´s recent book on his Camino experience sold 3 million copies and each reader seems to be on the Camino at the moment). French pilgrims perhaps make up the second biggest group presently but there is, of course, a big Spanish cohort.

Pamplona to Cizur Menor, 6 May 2008

Today, May 6, I spent in sending ahead to Santiago de Compostla in disgrace 5 kilos of stuff been carrying these last days. I weighed the pack leaving Roncesvalles and it was 15 kgs without my second water bottle!! 8 kgs is optimal or desirable for me. It´s hard to know what you will need until you get here--I've bought a lighter and cooler sleeping bag (it´s warm inside the albergues) and I jettisoned the sandals and big cultural guide book, thermals and some undies. I also purchased a Spanish mobile and that took a while. Thence I covered only the short distance to the village of CizurMenor and am staying at an albergue run by the Roncal family who have a reputation for great care. Senora Roncal has offered to check my feet this evening. Brave, dedicated woman. I´ll look out for a pilgrim meal in this tiny village tonight.

Since I didn´t cover much ground today, I´ve been left behind by those whom I started with. It´s a new start. Tomorrow I plan to walk to Puenta La Reina and then to Estella on the next day. Neither stage is too lengthy or demanding.

Some early thoughts on the Camino experience

Something on the culture and life of the Camino might be interesting. Some people walk in the groups in which they travel, including as couples. However, many walk alone, finding their own pace and rhythm and keeping to it. Finding it is a skill that the novice walker like me needs to find but it comes easily enough, I think. It must be difficult if you are in a group of unequal individual pacing. Í think that there are distinct virtues in travelling alone in that you meet new people. That does not compensate in my case for the absence of Anne by my side. I do miss her and carry the pilgrim´s conch shell for her and another for my mother.

Sleeping in a communal dormitory orchestra of sleepers each with his or her own distinctive contribution and timbre. There are inevitably strong soloists. And quite a few favour discharges from more than one orifice during the evening, again with distinctive signatures. There is a strong preference for some reason for keeping all windows closed.

There is a daily pilgrim cycle of getting up at or before 6 am and getting out onto the road early. They try to finish walking by 2 or 3 and then get down to washing etc. Early to bed is the invariable norm.

I´m writing this in the communal area of the albergue and a German group is cooking a meal. Some others are cooking eggs and others reading. A group fo young people behind me are having a cosmic discussion that seems to be of the Paolo Coehlo genre.

Must run. Or walk anyway. Another post beckons or threatens in due course.

Ultreya!

First post, from New York

2008-04-28T17:52:00.027+02:00

This blog post is made in New York, from Luke and Anna's welcoming apartment in Williamsburg in Brooklyn. Luke and I have been exploring NY, NY for two days, on foot, by bike and subway. Three of the shots above were taken yesterday in the Museum of Modern Art in its (new for me) premises. The first photo is the start of the NY camino on Saturday one of whose highlights was seeing Anna sing the national anthem at a ANZAC Day gathering organised by the New York Magpies (yes, the Collingwood Magpies doing the 'sidere mens eadem mutato' thing here (the same mind under a different sky or 'see the men eating potato', as you prefer, both appropriate here (thanks, James McAuley)).

This post is made on Andy's birthday. Happy birthday. Hope the Big Pirate spoiled you.

More news to follow, especially on the Camino itself.

Best, Paul