Monday, June 9, 2008
Back again
Well, my time in Europe is over for now. I've discovered that I like being a pilgrim much more than being a tourist, so a stopover in New York to get past jet lag and begin speaking English again, and then back to Toronto until the travel bug hits again. See you soon.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Portugal
It took a while for me to get to Portugal. Part of the integration process involved leaving Spain slowly and consciously, and the best way for me to do that was to walk. I wasn't sure how far I would need to walk for that to happen ... turns out it was the 100 km to Portugal. A very healing process to follow a Camino in reverse, meeting many pilgrims on the way who were going to Santiago. There are of course many stories from this too, but you´ll have to wait for the book.
For now, there is one story in Portugal waiting to be told. My second day in Portugal I hopped on a train to a town on the coast. My research had shown me that hotels there were either unavailable or very expensive there, but I went anyway, reasoning that there were likely accommodations available that weren't written up on the internet.
Two stops later, a woman got on the train and asked me if I was going to Viana, and told me that she rents out rooms in her house and would I like to look. I told her I would, and she sat down beside her friend for the rest of the journey.
When we got to the town, she walked me to her house, enthusiastically pointing out all the attractions along the way. She was dressed up, ready for mass, walked in tiny steps, and spoke very melodramatically. She seemed very much like a character from an Agatha Christie movie. She told me about her husband who had died 10 years ago, and spoke as if it had happened yesterday. I have no idea what language she was speaking ... sometimes I thought it was French, at other times Spanish, or it may have been Portuguese. Somehow I understood what she said, and she understood my Spanish answers.
At her house, she showed me my room, overlooking the river, and told me how tranquil it was. The price was right and it was easier than looking for a hotel, even though I realized my privacy would be compromised, so I took the room. She then proceeded to scrub the entire house from top to bottom because she had a house guest.
A while later when I returned to my room, ready to rest, she showed me pictures of all her nieces and nephews and grandchildren. Then she told me how tired she was from cleaning all day, and she went to eat. After eating, she retired to the room next to mine and turned on her TV and loudly cheered for the soccer team of her choice. This seemed so incongruous with an Agatha Christie character.
I decided this was not exactly tranquil, so I went down to the river to find a seat for the concert which was to happen that evening. I was quite excited to have found another festival, and watched the parade come in, led by men firing rifles, and followed by all the performers. Lots of music and dancing, and I enjoyed watching the festivities. When I was tired, I returned to my room to find the windows had been closed and the bedsheets turned down. This tranquil room was within easy earshot of the stage, and I was lulled to sleep by the sound of accordions and bagpipes.
For now, there is one story in Portugal waiting to be told. My second day in Portugal I hopped on a train to a town on the coast. My research had shown me that hotels there were either unavailable or very expensive there, but I went anyway, reasoning that there were likely accommodations available that weren't written up on the internet.
Two stops later, a woman got on the train and asked me if I was going to Viana, and told me that she rents out rooms in her house and would I like to look. I told her I would, and she sat down beside her friend for the rest of the journey.
When we got to the town, she walked me to her house, enthusiastically pointing out all the attractions along the way. She was dressed up, ready for mass, walked in tiny steps, and spoke very melodramatically. She seemed very much like a character from an Agatha Christie movie. She told me about her husband who had died 10 years ago, and spoke as if it had happened yesterday. I have no idea what language she was speaking ... sometimes I thought it was French, at other times Spanish, or it may have been Portuguese. Somehow I understood what she said, and she understood my Spanish answers.
At her house, she showed me my room, overlooking the river, and told me how tranquil it was. The price was right and it was easier than looking for a hotel, even though I realized my privacy would be compromised, so I took the room. She then proceeded to scrub the entire house from top to bottom because she had a house guest.
A while later when I returned to my room, ready to rest, she showed me pictures of all her nieces and nephews and grandchildren. Then she told me how tired she was from cleaning all day, and she went to eat. After eating, she retired to the room next to mine and turned on her TV and loudly cheered for the soccer team of her choice. This seemed so incongruous with an Agatha Christie character.
I decided this was not exactly tranquil, so I went down to the river to find a seat for the concert which was to happen that evening. I was quite excited to have found another festival, and watched the parade come in, led by men firing rifles, and followed by all the performers. Lots of music and dancing, and I enjoyed watching the festivities. When I was tired, I returned to my room to find the windows had been closed and the bedsheets turned down. This tranquil room was within easy earshot of the stage, and I was lulled to sleep by the sound of accordions and bagpipes.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Onward
I am on my way to Portugal to reflect on my journey. This is an inward time for me, so I probably won't be blogging for a while.
Thank you to all of you for your encouragement and support.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Finisterre and Muxia
I couldn't stop walking after Santiago. Last time I was here I had wanted to walk to Finisterre, to the end of the world, but hurricane-like weather prevented me from making the journey on foot. So this time, I walked it. Only got soaked one day ... the others were surprisingly sunny, or at least a mix of sun and rain.
It felt wonderful to walk to the ocean, and to meet many other pilgrims from the other routes. Lots of camaraderie, and a new energy for that part of my journey.
I then walked from Finisterre to Muxia, a small fishing village which is a great place to rest after a very long walk. Beautiful, relaxed, on the ocean. Still lots of peregrinos celebrating the walk, resting, a quiet energy. And today is sunny, so I shall enjoy watching the waves.
It felt wonderful to walk to the ocean, and to meet many other pilgrims from the other routes. Lots of camaraderie, and a new energy for that part of my journey.
I then walked from Finisterre to Muxia, a small fishing village which is a great place to rest after a very long walk. Beautiful, relaxed, on the ocean. Still lots of peregrinos celebrating the walk, resting, a quiet energy. And today is sunny, so I shall enjoy watching the waves.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Santiago de Compostela
I'm here in Santiago ... 1000 km!
I arrived yesterday, in a light rain. The people I'd been walking with for a couple of days walked in on the highway, 2 km shorter, but I chose the Camino, for I wanted to experience one more time the view of the magical forests, the sound of the birds, the smell of the herbs as I brushed against them, the beauty of the spring flowers in full bloom. I didn't recognize many of the plants I'd been seeing because they are so large here ... rosemary bushes and aloe vera, both as high as a house.
The way in to Santiago from this route provides the best view. I'd been expecting Santiago to feel like just another city, as it did on the Camino Frances, but I was pleasantly surprised. The cathedral was in full view about 1 km in advance, after climbing a hill, and then the path led straight to the cathedral. On the way I encountered several pilgrims I had met earlier, and they gave me a warm welcome.
The way took me past the tourismo, who reserved a room for me, and then to the cathedral. As I walked up the steps, the bells sounded to indicate that the pilgrims mass was just starting. The nun with the nightingale voice was singing, and the service included some of my favourite Taize songs. And then the botafumeiro ... the large incense burner which is swung on ropes across the cathedral, historically to mask the scent of pilgrims who have walked for thousands of km to get to the cathedral. It's wonderful to watch, and very unpredictable as to when they will choose to swing it ... it keeps people coming to mass, hoping to see it.
I have met more pilgrims in the last day than in the entire two months of my walk. Many pilgrims from the Camino Frances, eager to hear stories about the Via de la Plata, as they arrive in Santiago eager to walk again. And everyone with huge smiles on their faces. It feels wonderful to be here, and I am just soaking it in, relaxing, and enjoying being here.
I arrived yesterday, in a light rain. The people I'd been walking with for a couple of days walked in on the highway, 2 km shorter, but I chose the Camino, for I wanted to experience one more time the view of the magical forests, the sound of the birds, the smell of the herbs as I brushed against them, the beauty of the spring flowers in full bloom. I didn't recognize many of the plants I'd been seeing because they are so large here ... rosemary bushes and aloe vera, both as high as a house.
The way in to Santiago from this route provides the best view. I'd been expecting Santiago to feel like just another city, as it did on the Camino Frances, but I was pleasantly surprised. The cathedral was in full view about 1 km in advance, after climbing a hill, and then the path led straight to the cathedral. On the way I encountered several pilgrims I had met earlier, and they gave me a warm welcome.
The way took me past the tourismo, who reserved a room for me, and then to the cathedral. As I walked up the steps, the bells sounded to indicate that the pilgrims mass was just starting. The nun with the nightingale voice was singing, and the service included some of my favourite Taize songs. And then the botafumeiro ... the large incense burner which is swung on ropes across the cathedral, historically to mask the scent of pilgrims who have walked for thousands of km to get to the cathedral. It's wonderful to watch, and very unpredictable as to when they will choose to swing it ... it keeps people coming to mass, hoping to see it.
I have met more pilgrims in the last day than in the entire two months of my walk. Many pilgrims from the Camino Frances, eager to hear stories about the Via de la Plata, as they arrive in Santiago eager to walk again. And everyone with huge smiles on their faces. It feels wonderful to be here, and I am just soaking it in, relaxing, and enjoying being here.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Ourense
I'm in the home stretch ... just over 100 km to go.
There are many more pilgrims on the trail now. It seems it all depends which day you go as to how many people you meet. In over a week, I saw only 5 other pilgrims, but two days behind were people who said they had 25-30 people in the albergue every night. I am staying an extra night in Ourense, preparing for the last stretch, and allowing the group to get ahead, hoping for a smaller group tomorrow.
The landscape is also less isolated here ... little villages every few kilometers. It still has plenty of ups and downs in terrain, though not quite as intense as the previous few days. After one of the steep stretches there was a lovely pilgrim-friendly bar, where the owner gave everyone a scallop shell on which we wrote our names and he nailed them to the wall, to the ceiling, wherever he could ... there are hundreds, but very few from Canada. There was a warm fire there, a friendly cat, good food, and wonderful camaraderie as we shared our experiences and prepared for the next stretch.
There is a festival happening here in Ourense ... the guidebooks said it was yesterday, and I was disappointed not to find it, but in reality it is happening today. A parade went by my hostal as I was waiting for the room. Lots of floats made of spring flowers, music of bagpipes, children dancing with flowers in their hair. It's great to soak in the energy of another Spanish festival ... light and airy, welcoming spring. And the 29 degree weather welcomes it too ... a pleasant surprise for Galicia.
There are many more pilgrims on the trail now. It seems it all depends which day you go as to how many people you meet. In over a week, I saw only 5 other pilgrims, but two days behind were people who said they had 25-30 people in the albergue every night. I am staying an extra night in Ourense, preparing for the last stretch, and allowing the group to get ahead, hoping for a smaller group tomorrow.
The landscape is also less isolated here ... little villages every few kilometers. It still has plenty of ups and downs in terrain, though not quite as intense as the previous few days. After one of the steep stretches there was a lovely pilgrim-friendly bar, where the owner gave everyone a scallop shell on which we wrote our names and he nailed them to the wall, to the ceiling, wherever he could ... there are hundreds, but very few from Canada. There was a warm fire there, a friendly cat, good food, and wonderful camaraderie as we shared our experiences and prepared for the next stretch.
There is a festival happening here in Ourense ... the guidebooks said it was yesterday, and I was disappointed not to find it, but in reality it is happening today. A parade went by my hostal as I was waiting for the room. Lots of floats made of spring flowers, music of bagpipes, children dancing with flowers in their hair. It's great to soak in the energy of another Spanish festival ... light and airy, welcoming spring. And the 29 degree weather welcomes it too ... a pleasant surprise for Galicia.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
A Gudiña
I have scaled the highest mountains on the trip. Didn't get to touch snow, but it was on the next mountain over. It was all melting on the mountains I climbed, the trails looking and sounding more like waterfalls than like paths for pilgrims to walk on.
Walking sticks are extremely useful when climbing and descending waterfalls ... they are helpful for checking which stones are sturdy, testing the depth of the water, balancing, giving me a head start on leaping those stones that appear just a bit too far. It requires constant concentration, and walking through mud is such a pleasure by comparison.
When the paths are a bit simpler, I am able to admire the beauty ... the pink and yellow flowers on the hillside, the streams and waterfalls, the old trees and interesting rocks. Some of the trees have been there for hundreds of years, and have a character all their own, and it is easy to see how fairies and other such creatures must be living there. This is even easier to see when I am walking with a professional story-teller, as I have been off and on for the past few days. It is really an ideal setting for hearing fairy tales, complete with idyllic landscapes and old castles.
The way was really empty for quite a while ... I met only five pilgrims in over a week. But now, a big group more, all walking at different speeds, but it is good to know that there are others on the route as well, and nicer albergues now that we are in Galicia ... places with kitchens and heat.
The weather has been wonderful for the past week, no rain until today, and quite warm. One evening I stayed at Teresa's place. It's not written up in any of the guidebooks ... there appears to be a long stretch with nowhere to stay. But the hospitalero two towns back said to just go to the town and ask for Teresa ... and it worked. A couple of men outside the bar came to meet me and walked me over to her place. It included an unfinished room which was used as an open air terrace ... the evening was warm and an ideal place to watch the sunset.
I am very excited to have entered Galicia today. I have now walked as far as I did on the Camino Frances, and I can eat all my favourite foods once again ... I shall describe them another day, after I have savoured them once again.
Walking sticks are extremely useful when climbing and descending waterfalls ... they are helpful for checking which stones are sturdy, testing the depth of the water, balancing, giving me a head start on leaping those stones that appear just a bit too far. It requires constant concentration, and walking through mud is such a pleasure by comparison.
When the paths are a bit simpler, I am able to admire the beauty ... the pink and yellow flowers on the hillside, the streams and waterfalls, the old trees and interesting rocks. Some of the trees have been there for hundreds of years, and have a character all their own, and it is easy to see how fairies and other such creatures must be living there. This is even easier to see when I am walking with a professional story-teller, as I have been off and on for the past few days. It is really an ideal setting for hearing fairy tales, complete with idyllic landscapes and old castles.
The way was really empty for quite a while ... I met only five pilgrims in over a week. But now, a big group more, all walking at different speeds, but it is good to know that there are others on the route as well, and nicer albergues now that we are in Galicia ... places with kitchens and heat.
The weather has been wonderful for the past week, no rain until today, and quite warm. One evening I stayed at Teresa's place. It's not written up in any of the guidebooks ... there appears to be a long stretch with nowhere to stay. But the hospitalero two towns back said to just go to the town and ask for Teresa ... and it worked. A couple of men outside the bar came to meet me and walked me over to her place. It included an unfinished room which was used as an open air terrace ... the evening was warm and an ideal place to watch the sunset.
I am very excited to have entered Galicia today. I have now walked as far as I did on the Camino Frances, and I can eat all my favourite foods once again ... I shall describe them another day, after I have savoured them once again.
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