Life's a Stitch

Oh that Brierly Guide! All pilgrims who use it will tell you their annoyance with the incline charts, and even the narrative stating hills so small they won't be noticed. Anyone can tell by the scenery that's it's impossible to go anywhere without tremendous ups and downs. So up and down we went. The occasional difficulty of the afternoon was surpassed by the beauty of the surroundings.

We saw a woman on the trail who appeared to be having great difficulty. We're guessing her to be about 75 in obvious distress, with seriously swollen ankles, carrying a huge heavy pack. We learned of her Camino reputation, that if approached, she would snarl "keep your distance!" So I bade her Buen Camino and kept going, hoping we wouldn't hear of her demise en route. Maybe that was her desire. We later heard that her day's destination was a town appropriately named Hospital.

After a very steep incline not mentioned by Brierly, we arrived in O Poio, a town of two buildings. The accommodation included something akin to the lodge from the movie 'the Shining' and an alburgue that the Shining lodge operator informed us was full of chinches (bedbugs) and cukarochas (no translation needed).

We chose the former although the ground floor looked as if it hadn't been swept in years. There was a promising sign on the building that breakfast was their especialidad. The owner informed us that dinner would be served at 7:00. It was not as if we had a choice.

Prior to the Camino I read many books in preparation. Just before our departure a high school classmate recommended "Walk in a Relaxed Manner: Life Lessons From the Camino" by Sister Joyce Rupp. She puts into perspective each challenge met on the Camino: hunger, pain, disappointment, travelling with others and many more. Tonight was an opportunity to practice a few of her lessons.

I retreated to the room for a sort of hot shower while C elected to warm up in his own manner. The actual texts sent to each other are as follows:
Chuck: How bizarre is this? I am sitting in total quiet on a mountain top in Spain smoking a Cuban cigar and drinking cognac?
Li: I am shivering in a room on a mountaintop in Spain with my gloves on. How bizarre is that? How about checking if we can get some heat?

My good spouse eventually left his perch on a beautiful mountaintop:

and managed to get the heat turned on in the room for a couple of hours and I shed the gloves in time for dinner.

The meal approached with trepidation, was amazingly good, cooked solely by the pension operator. Caldo Gallego, was followed by a saut��ed pork chop, boiled potatoes and a mound of delicious cabbage topped with a fried egg. So dessert was only canned peaches, but they were pretty good as well. Here is our innkeeper, cook, but obviously not a floor sweeper, with half a Rhode Island pilgrim couple we've met in recent days, another Hemmingway lookalike.

A very full 25k day, 10 on horseback. Starting in the dark, walking through sunrise, we arrived to meet our guide who would take us to O Cebriero, a Gallecian town steeped in Celtic history.

Seven of us, three coincidentally from Vancouver's North Shore, rode up the steep mountain over pavement, Roman roads, shale and rocky dirt paths, the guide all the while holding onto a horse's tail. Can you imagine the shape that guy is in hiking up to O Cebriero twice per day?

Those ears belong to my sweet horse named Moracita, which translated to Little Blackberry. And here is our shadow:

It took us two hours by horse, and it appeared most people walked up in about 2.5 hours leading us to believe it was not as difficult as legend makes it out to be, but happy to have chosen the horse option for the ability to take in the magnificent scenery.

The mountainside was plucked right from the Sound of Music where you'd expect the dimpled and wimpled Maria Von Trapp, in her convent days, to emerge from the trees and burst into song.

The town O Cebriero was out of any storybook, all stone and thatch with Celtic music in the background. There was no bagpiper as we've read about. Must have been his day off. There was a different form of hobbit type house built into the side of the hills, pallozas, in which locals lived until the 1960's. An early form of split level, the families lived in the upper parts and the animals in the lower, providing the warmth of their body heat.

Taking a break we warmed up with a bowl of Caldo Gallego, the regional soup made of cabbage and potato, very satisfying on a cool mountain afternoon.

Reaching the end of my posting-by-email size limit, I'll continue this tomorrow.

We spent the morning chasing rainbows:

This storm defied Accuweather, re-energizing itself again and again, dumping buckets of rain on our sorry peregrino heads. I've succeeded in keeping dry and happy from the waist down, but I have to work on the upper half. Stopping for lunch, even my bra was drenched. My poncho seems to behave like a wet tent, forming droplets of water on the inside.

Wonder what pilgrims look like in the rain? Multicoloured hunchbacks:

We parked ourselves at a bar for a lunch long enough to dry out the poncho. Two beers, two glasses of wine, a non alcohol cider, a diet coke and a sautéed pork loin and pimento sandwich big enough for two cost 12e ($18 Cdn). We're constantly saying "can you imagine how much that would cost in Canada?"

Arriving at our "pension" Casa Fernandez in Vega de Valcarce, we're finding that 30e buys a less than adequate accommodation meaning one bathroom for nine rooms. There appear to be four spares two floors down, outside the bunk room. I've noted that in case of emergency. One thing going for it are the amazingly comfortable memory foam mattresses.

Vega del Valcarce is an idyllic mountain town, but the European Union brought progress to Spain in the form of new superhighways. C says he wants to be nowhere near these structures during an earthquake.

Tomorrow we're faced with what is known as the hardest day on the Camino, the 700 meter climb up O'Cebriero. There is a general nervousness amongst the pilgrims, like a group of mothers-to-be awaiting their turn at induced labour. I'm opting for the c-section. C as in caballo (horse). Seriously, I'm choosing a wee bit of apprehension over a lot of pain. In reality it will be substituting one pain for another. The last time I was on a horse was a couple of years ago and as I remember, it involved an entirely different muscle set than used in hiking. Bring on the Voltarin cream!

This really is a knitting blog, disguised as a Camino blog. For the benefit of those seeking yarn and needles I present a yarn bombed tree in Ponferrada back when it was sunnyish.

When we returned to Ponferrada yesterday, our sweet woman cab driver, when told of the missing rainpants, drove us by the Decathalon super sports store, making sure we knew the location for when the store was open. I guess our Spanish is getting to an understandable level.

In terms of Spanish, C is responsible for making room reservations and I for ordering meals, due to my extensive food vocabulary. Go figure.

Back to the caper of the rainpants. C is convinced they were taken from our transfer pack. A little background: we are carrying items to get us overnight if necessary, plus all our medications, phones, chargers… When we made the decision to stay in hostels we no longer needed our sleeping bags, liners or towels. We've used one of the Camino transfer services for those items plus a few more not needed on a daily basis, such as our rain gear.

This is not the first time an item has gone missing. Our folding "Kitchen Sink," brought for foot and ankle ice dips, also never used, disappeared. We check our rooms thoroughly each day after I presumably forgot my bag of toiletries at the beginning of the trip.

Today C intentionally tied the transfer bag in a unique way and sure enough, when we received our bag, it was tied differently. I guess we should have brought Mari's PacSafe. A sad lesson learned. Can't pin the transfer service as the bag sits mostly unattended at hostels pre and post delivery.

Back to today, Decathalon was a 20 minute walk. I found some acceptable basic rainpants for 15e. Nothing like my fancy previous pair. Perhaps this is a lesson in pilgrimage simplicity.

Cabbing back to Camponaraya we conversed with the cab driver. After lightheartedly indicating his annoyance with a call from his wife I was able to tell him in Spanish that women are always right.

We walked in and out of rain today, over rolling hills and through vineyards, with a downpour in the final hour.

The positive side of rain is a rainbow:

It's still pelting with rain tonight and accuweather is predicting a change at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. We'll see how accurate a prediction it is.

Uh-oh. If you follow the Camino you know that this appears to be lack of progress; even a step in the wrong direction. After listening to a wild night of rain reminiscent of home, we called a cab to take us back to Ponferrada for a rest day with the intention of buying rain pants yet again.

It was disappointing knowing we probably won't be seeing Loula and Claude again, a couple from Ottawa we've gotten to know. As the Camino does, it gave us a chance to meet new people and reunite with Russ, with whom we've leapfrogged since week one. He walks longer days than we do, but takes more rest days so we're often running into each other particularly in the larger cities where he tends to spend more time.

Better rested after a night of sleep, C agreed to go to the castle, where since he is over 65 and I, as a retired person, but under that magic age, qualified as "officially unemployed," we were admitted for 4e, a bargain. It was more than a gallery of artifacts, it explained how the castle was built and gave a glimpse into life in Medieval times.

The upper levels of the castle offered views of both city and countryside.

This evening we shared a delicious milk fed lamb dinner, a regional specialty, the antithesis of the two veggie and vegan meals we've had recently. Isn't it all about balance?

We walked back to our room after dark enabling one more castle photo with the Camino shell and arrow at street level pointing the Way.

The long 25k day of frustration starting with 7k of downhill hiking including three long steep shale chutes…

…followed by 18k of pavement, with a weather forecast of four days of rain to discover that my rain pants are missing. I've only owned them for a week.

We both had our moments. After 17k we arrived in the city of Ponferrada, home to the beautiful Templar Castle and C had no interest in going in.

A case of the Berenstain Bears and too many museums crammed with historical artifacts.

There was respite in a coffee stop in the storybook town of Molinaseca

until C was scolded by an older women while trying to coax her dog to safety with his trekking pole instead of allowing it to be slowly run over by an approaching car.

I have faith that there are Camino lessons to be learned from this Alexander and the no good horrible terrible very bad Camino day. Like Alexander, we'd go to Australia today if we could except there'd be no people left there as it seems they are all here on the Camino. The plus side is that they are very pleasant and interesting.

Some days are like that you know.

It's hard to believe we are now onto our second month on the Camino. If years ago, anyone had told me I'd be hiking for an entire month, I would never have believed it.

Day 31 turned out to be the best day yet in terms of beauty and experience. We started by climbing to the pass near the top of Mount Irago.

On the way we heard the noise of 65 sheep and their two shepherds, two teachers and their huge flock of 14-15 year old students. Other pilgrims were attempting to out hike them so as not to be disturbed by all those kids, but it was touching to be bid Buen Camino by so many of them. I heard the teacher explain the tradition to the rest of the students. I had wondered how people are taught about the hundreds of thousands of people who invade their country yearly.

We arrived at the Cruce de Ferro, a solemn place where pilgrims place a rock or other item they have carried from home at the base of the cross, symbolizing a burden to be left behind. It was a place stacked with grief similar to the temple at Burning Man.

My rock:

I was particularly moved by a picture of a young man whose middle name was given for St. Patrick, as he was born on March 17th, but died before his 20th birthday. All the hopes and dreams of friends and family for that young person swallowed up in grief and carried to the Cruz de Ferro.

It was a day of ups and downs and pastoral beauty.

Paradoxically, while walking on the ridge of a mountain we could see wind farms on one side and a nuclear power plant on the other.

A group of us had a laugh when C mooed at a cow and the cow clearly mooed back.

Can't you hear the moo coming from that cow's mouth?

After 18k we arrived in Aceibo. We're staying at a vegetarian casa rural ironically called La Trucha (the Trout). They advertise it as the house of Feng Shui. The food was delicious, the hosts gracious, but we'll be skipping the lavender incense.

Tomorrow will be a longer day at 25k, taking us through the larger city of Ponferrada.

22k (13.6miles) it was a day for Camino angels, both on the receiving and giving end. The day started with banking frustration, three rejections at three different ATM's. Oh well, we said, we'll go on our way and call our bank when we take our break and hit the next ATM.

Next town: phone didn't work. A nice Guatemalan pilgrim lent us his phone. Angel #1. He also explained that only certain banks allow transactions with foreign cards. Then we discovered the nearest ATM forward was three days away.

We decided C would cab back to a bank in Astorga while I carried on. When C asked the bartender to call a cab, the bartender said no, it would cost 42e for the cab round trip and that we would be better off charging our MasterCard through him, paying him the 2.5% service fee he would be charged and he would give us the cash. Angel #2.

Now it was C's turn to be an angel. We were hiking when we noticed a group of Camino tourists distributed along the trail. They were from Germany and the bus driver let them off for a 5k sample walk on the Camino.

One woman, at least 80, was lagging behind. She was visually impaired, heavily dressed in the hot sun, sweating profusely and had no water. She was afraid to stop and rest because she had an hour to get to the bus. C walked with her while I went ahead to let the bus driver know if they didn't arrive on time or if C called for assistance. This story had a happy ending with the woman recovering with a cold beer in the garden with the rest of her group.

I forgot to say that in the morning two other pilgrims, people we had never met, offered to loan us money. As the Guatemalan man said, we are all pilgrim brothers and sisters, meant to support each other on the Way.

We saw lots of beautiful flowers in the sunshine.

This afternoon the wind kicked up and whispered eerily through a Hansel and Gretel pine forest. We then walked along a fence for 1k that held wooden crosses made by pilgrims.

We ended our day with a Pilgrim's mass and blessing with the monks at a 12th century Romanesque church. A simple church that we agreed was our favourite so far.

The German priest said the mass in English to accommodate the majority of those present, which was a nice and unexpected change.

Tomorrow is supposed to be cold, right in time for our 350 meter ascent to the highest point on the Camino 1500 meters (just under 5000 ft). Yikes!

Once again we started at sunrise, the moon still bright and shadows long.

It was a moderate day, but we are officially out of the Meseta and back to oak forests, farmland and many ups and downs. I can't tell you how many times I sang the Bear Went Over the Mountain. Chuck probably can.

Today we had another uncanny Camino experience. I mentioned that we had been thinking of Chuck's mother when coming upon occasional rocks signed by a pilgrim named Naomi. Sometimes there were many days without seeing one and then she'd pop up again.

Today Chuck called back to me that Naomi was back with us again. Then he said another name was with hers. We couldn't believe it when we saw the names Naomi and Axel together. Axel was C's father's name. It stopped us in our tracks.

As we were about to fade from too long without a break, what should appear? Healthy snacks for free. This woman knows what pilgrims need and we were happy to donate to the cause.

Later on we met a young man from Germany. Bryant's doppelganger?

He took our Taking My Parents to Burning Man card and now claims to be a filmmaker.

We toured the cathedral and Gaudi's Bishop's Palace.

It amounted to three museums and information overload. I was disappointed that there was no information on Gaudi and the story of the construction of the building as there is at Barcelona's Sagrada Familia.

Exhausted, we headed back to the hotel to make sandwiches for dinner despite a sign in the hall that asks you not to eat in your room. Aren't we the renegade pilgrims.

Tomorrow is a long day and we realize after today, that we have to do a better job of taking rest breaks while walking. The terrain is due to get more challenging shortly.

A day in our life on the Camino.

We've developed a routine, planning our routes few days in advance. 15k is a short day, 25 is long and 20 is just right.

The day starts with packing up and the preparation of our water supply, five half litre bottles. Foot care is next, toe pads, mole skin, powder and ankle braces.

If the local bar is open we'll stop in for a tortilla (frittata) sandwich. Once on the road we usually go for 10k before stopping for a rest and food.

Upon arriving at our destination it's shower time and then we'll do a hand wash or if there's a washer we'll consider major laundry.

Dinner is usually between 7 and 9:00. We spend time in the afternoon and evening blogging, checking emails and doing homework – planning and reserving our next destination. Once again I want to thank everyone for the encouraging comments and emails. This is no walk in the woods, so to speak, and your thoughts, prayers and positive words are most helpful.

We're usually in bed at about 10:30 and up again at around 7:00.

Today was a short day. We started out at sunrise. Before you applaud our level of motivation I should mention that sunrise isn't until 8:00. The moon is still bright:

We arrived at Puente de Orbigo, known for one of the longest and best preserved Spanish medieval bridges from the 13th century.

We're staying at what seemed like a sketchy place above a bar/restaurant. We've spent nights above many bars, but this is the first room that I'd describe as less than adequate. Everything is worn and tired and the bathrooms are outside on the building's roof and lack hot water. But like most others, they've been renovated nicely. It's only for a night. The hospitaleros are a lovely young couple and they play our kind of swing era music and soft indie pop.

Hasta Manana