Life's a Stitch

Being retired, this Camino is our new work of sorts for awhile. It hit me though, that we have had no days off. In that regard we've made a compromise: two short days = one day off. And that's our plan for today (3.5 hours) and tomorrow (2.5 hours).

Last night's accommodation was excellent, a family run pension, El Olivo, that was a veritable watercolour museum, paintings done by the father of the clan.

Today's path lead us through wine country with many ups and downs, some steeper than others.

Tonight we're in a basic pension in the middle of the town of Viana with lots of happy people sounds below. We toured the ruins of the 13th century San Pedro Church, located a block away, which was demolished during the first Carlist War of 1844.

C and I reviewed our expectations vs reality of our Camino experience so far. For me the amount of elevation gain/loss was far more than expected. The guide book seems to be off in that regard. C was surprised at how absorbed he is in the scenery and its changes, rather than in spending the time in any thoughtful reflection.

I've noticed the difference in the sounds of the church bells, town to town. Last night's sounded like a giant cowbell. Another like the ding ding ding on a miniature train in Disneyland or Vancouver's Stanley Park. The frequency of ringing differs, most chiming the hour, then a single stroke on the half hour and some that mark every 15 minutes. Then there are the towns with more than one church so it's all of that multiplied. I missed church bells when we moved to Vancouver, but I hear that Christ Church Cathedral is installing them as part of their renovation.

Have to do some Camino shopping. We've already left behind my toiletry bag and Chuck forgot is phone charger somewhere along the line. It's tough unpacking and repacking every day.

More tomorrow.

Ah, the Camino has many parallels to life, today's being plans are made for changing. What was to be a half rest day turned into 19 kms in the scorching sun.

We left Villamayor de Monjardin at the leisurely hour of 9:30, an hour later than usual, anticipating an easy day.

For some reason this stretch through wheat fields must have been longer than the 10k we were expecting. It takes us an hour to walk 3 miles at home, and 10k being 6 miles should have taken 2 hours instead of three plus.

Halfway through there was a snack stand set up with many shaded seats. My approach to the Camino is to remain positive, however, it was difficult to do so when the proprietor asked people to leave if they weren't spending money. Such Camino spirit. It bugged me to spend money there, but his freshly squeezed orange juice in the scorching sun got the better of me.

Finally arriving in Los Arcos, we checked into Austrian alburgue where we had reservations. It was not as romantic as it sounds. The 35e room was filthy and when I sat on the bed I was greeted by a bedbug.

We couldn't get out of there fast enough.

The town was fully booked and a very nice Robin Williams-esque hotel manager helped us find a room in the next town, two hours away. This one was only 10e more than the nightmare above.

Hopefully no more alburgue rooms for these pilgrims. This is the view from our window in Sansol:

The good part of this story is that we trimmed a couple of hours from tomorrow's very challenging looking day.

Excuse the absence, wifi and even cell reception is sporadic.

It was a 6.5 hour day, pretty reasonable until the end, but all in all a good day on the Camino. Our weather has been exceptional, quite warm balanced with a cool breeze. We're usually on the path at 8:30a.m. While the shadows are still long.

What do you do to while away the hours of walking? I spend time singing to myself: Broadway, Mozart, hymns, songs from high school concert choir and Girl Scouts. Nonsense songs that have a good walking beat: What Does The Fox Say (thanks Mari for gifting me that ear worm), the Ants Go Marching, and Follow the Arrow from Sesame Street, most appropriate for the Camino since yellow arrows and scallop shells guide you along.

That was the largest one we've seen. Most of the time they're small and sometimes you have to search for them like a geocache. Thought we had walked as far as the Pyramids but the yellow arrow assured us we were still on the Camino.

Today we walked by the Irache wine fountain. The company keeps up the tradition of the Benedictine monks, supporting pilgrims with wine and water to fortify their strength, vitality and happiness. The winery gives away 100 litres per day. C says they didn't know I was coming or they would have had a Diet Coke spout as well.

C posing for another tunnel picture. Yes that was after the wine stop:

We've planned for an easy half day tomorrow as I want to take some time to explore some old churches along the way. Besides, the two days after that look tough.

I think the Camino honeymoon feeling is close to over. Today's walk was a brutal seven hours. I had to remind myself of yesterday's "I can do this" feeling. Over and over again. Many ups and downs, maybe not the total gain of yesterday, but far more steep.

It started out OK. You might describe it as fun.

I spoke too soon when at the halfway point I said I couldn't believe that we had covered six miles in two hours. It went downhill, so to speak, from there. We crossed a Roman bridge…

for the opportunity to go way way way up to a medieval hilltop village…

to go way way down an ancient Roman road where the rocks weren't loose, just pitched in all directions…

only to go up and up and up again, through a not so ancient tunnel under the highway…

to finally arrive at our comfortably old world room at the alburgue in Lorca. We are appreciating our decision to go with private accommodation in hostels after seeing a woman wading in the river, her thighs covered in bedbug bites.

I can do this! That's how I felt at the end of today.

I was so worried about today's stretch. Our five hour trek wasn't going to cover a lot of ground, but the ascent was 350 meters (almost 1200 ft) over a short distance. The way up was tough but I took it slow and steadily. It helped to adjust my hat so I could only see four steps at a time then I could concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other without thinking about how steep it was. And there we were on Alto de Perdon, feeling on top of the world.

Looking into the distance one way we could see the mountains from where we started. Facing the other, there were the mountains to come. We thought about the settlers coming across the plains and spying a mountain range in front of them. The heck with that, they said, we're not going over those, and that's how we imagined that cities like Denver were established.

You know what they say about what goes up. Going down was a bear. The same 350 meters in reverse, described as ankle breaking, steep and covered in loose rocks in a variety of sizes. Each step required concentration and strategy as to placement. Chuck says his strategy of a couple of beers at the peak worked for him.

We've arrived safely at the alburgue in Uterga.

Plans for tomorrow included a detour to visit to a renowned 12th century church, however it's closed on Mondays so we'll head straight ahead for 20K (12 miles).

We said goodbye to the peaceful Pyrenees, with it's chalet style architecture and cowbells, and walked right into the urban bustle of a colourful city.

Many people take a rest day to explore Pamplona, famous for its bull run during the July festival of San Fermin. We decided to combine Camino walking (the trail goes by most of Pamplona's main points of interest) with sightseeing, plus a late start gave us a rest. We took advantage of the fact that we were staying in a hotel rather than an alburgue where you are tossed out onto the trail by 8:30 a.m. The hotel was basic but very comfortable with hot water and wonderful water pressure. Simple pleasures.

Saturday was a perfect time for our visit, coincidentally timed with a Medieval Festival. There were costumes and music in the streets.

We're experiencing difficulty adjusting our pilgrim activities with the eating schedule in Spain. It wasn't a problem when we were staying in El Vendrell as something was always open and we didn't have the opportunity to become "hangry" as the result of extreme activity. The afternoon siesta is taken seriously with stores closed from about 1-5:00. Restaurants don't open until 8:30pm and by that time we'd prefer to be snug in bed. We wonder how children handle that schedule with school.

Besides that glitch, support for pilgrims seems a regional goal. For days when you need a lighter load Jacotrans will transport your backpack to your next destination for 7e. The pharmacies have an excellent supply of foot care products and services for feet are available in the more populated areas.

When you walk down the street you'll be wished "Buen Camino" by perfect strangers. Crossing a road high in the mountains a driver came upon us honking his horn. I thought he was warning us not to cross as they had the right of way. Instead the car's occupants were cheering us on. It's amazing the boost that provides.

Despite a bad night, where the town's teenage girls sat in circles on the sidewalk squealing and shouting until after 11:00 pm, we got in a good day of hiking. I figure they were trying to attract the attention of the young men staying at the alburgue across the street.

It was a day of perfect hiking, although once again it started with a take your breath away uphill. A total of 11+ miles, about a third was comfortably flat.

Feeling a need to exercise the faith aspect of the Camino I dragged C into what appeared to be an old church near Zubiri, called the Abbey. There was a collection box for the restoration, but things inside the building looked inaccurate, more like Halloween decorations. Turns out it's an endeavour of two friends who want to turn it into a Camino rest stop, not really anything to do with a church. Felt a bit ripped off, would have liked the real story. The guys and the establishment reminded me of the Jimi Hendrix shrine back home, a quirky place run by well meaning hippies.

At the halfway point, in the middle of nowhere there was a pizza place set up for hungry pilgrims, complete with wood fired oven. No kidding it was one of the best pizzas we've ever had, similar to Canada's Famoso, but with an acceptable amount of cheese.

The Camino more than anything is about the people and their intentions for their pilgrimage. Each individual's Camino is a personal and often private experience. We've noticed lots young people and many of our age and older. I guess it's difficult to take the time in the middle stage of life, although some do sections over the course of years.

There is a man we've seen leading another older man with severe disabilities across the Camino, physically supporting him along the way. Today we saw a Mom with her three children experiencing their Camino as a family. The youngest at times was like the Pokey Little Puppy, lagging behind, then playing catch up. Exercising his own Camino made us smile.

Another short day to get our feet used to the drill, before we start our first full length day tomorrow. Lots of uphills and corresponding downs, except for the last one that was a longer down into town. It was the kind if descent on loose rock and shale that encourages the loss of hiker's toenails. Ours look good so far.

Sometimes up feels better than down, but not those heart pounding, breath taking, sweat dripping ups that started our day today. There is a fine line between the feel good ascents and the ones that feel meant to kill you. Some day I'll find an app that measures degrees of ascent and figure out that line.

A significant part of the Camino experience is the people. Today we met Diego, 28, from north central Mexico. He, like our three, spent summers as a camp kid (in Minnesota) and then went on to become staff. He's now a chef for a cruise line and will be starting a contract on the Alaska circuit in May. We will meet again in Vancouver.

Our innkeepers have been exceptional. We are trying to stay in reasonably priced hostels and pensions that offer private rooms and shared baths in consideration of C's REM sleep disorder.

Last night was at the Pension Corozon Puro in Bizkeretta, run by two Hungarian former pilgrims, whose goal is to provide pilgrims with a positive experience. 18e each included a home cooked dinner and breakfast. An alburgue (dorm) would have cost the same after paying for meals. Barbara and Istvan were gracious hosts.

Tonight in Zubiri was $32e, no meals, but a beautiful communal living room, kitchen and laundry. The innkeeper is an expressive woman who speaks not a word of English but communicates well with her heart and her hands as well as a constant patter of Spanish and Basque.

I know it's bound to change, but I've been on the Camino for two nights with the luxury of a hot bath on each of them.

The Camino de Santiago pilgrimage has a religious or spiritual history. It's namesake is St. James, whose remains are buried in Santiago, Spain, the end point of the trek. The starting points are from all over Europe and there are seven designated routes across Spain. Some believe the route originating in France, located under the Milky Way, has magical or divine powers.

My original intention, when I first heard of the Camino six years ago after hearing violinist Oliver Schroer's interview on CBC (http://www.oliverschroer.com/about/camino_journal.html) was to do the Portuguese route.

I should warn you. This is a long story.

For some reason the plan migrated to Spain, either from Roncesvalles, just over the French border or from Pamplona, a popular beginning point for Spaniards. I don't know when the plan changed to start from St. John Pied de Port, France, which requires you to take the mountain route up and over the Pyrenees.

Maybe it was the seductive scenery from the movie The Way with Martin Sheen (it's worth a watch to learn more about the pilgrimage). We compromised and agreed to take the valley route through Valcarlos, which has one strenuous day of incline rather than two on the mountain route. Some people actually do the mountain route in a day, but they haven't broken two ankles in the course of a few years.

Last night we stayed in St. Jean, Camino tourist trap par excellence. A beer, which costs 1.90e in Spain was 6e. A diet Coke was 3e and the same can today in Spain was .60e. The couple who ran our pension have strong feelings in support of the mountain route. They include a mountain manifesto on their website. Before you can say "decisions of such nature should be discussed with your spouse," C agrees that we are changing our route and a reservation is in the process of being made at the rest point, a third the way up. Now I can do simple math and that tells me that the second day will be on the hellish side.

Words were exchanged and after attracting the attention of those sitting across from us at the tourist dive restaurant, we agreed to leave the decision up to the Camino. If our hostess was able to reserve a bunk at the inn up the mountain, then it was decided.

Enter divine intervention. Alas, there was no room at the inn and we would hike the valley way, saving 500 meters of elevation. Done.

Not really. In the morning we met another Canadian couple planning on cabbing it over to Roncesvalles to avoid the mountain. The fog up there was so bad you could only see 20 feet in front of you. Camino Magic. Did we want to share the cab with them? You bet. In the end we started 350 meters down the slope for five hours of glorious hiking.

Packing our packs, this is the real thing, our Camino is happening. Weighing each ounce I'm sure everyone has one weakness they can't live without. That is unless you're C who apparently has nothing he can't live without and is willing to let me know it regularly.

I've read what people bring. iPads, books and Kindles seem to be common weight takers. There was an Italian guy who couldn't manage without his tiny espresso pot and the coffee of home. The jury is out on carrying one change of clothing vs two. I'm willing to forego the second set of clothes for 13oz of art supplies. Even a Pacific Crest Trail ultra light through hiking watercolour artist allowed himself a pound of supplies. I will suffer for my art, she says with some trepidation.

I thought about knitting my way across Spain, but it's too darned hot. That project, which is accumulating considerable mileage including crossing the Atlantic three times by air and ship, will have yet another voyage come the fall.

You know how I love to paint old stone structures. Spain is full of them. This is a sample from one day:

Right before we left I participated in a workshop where we painted a 200 year old Swiss farm building. My instructor snapped the photo and it really included the chicken and the cat peering out the windows.

I mentioned it's hot. We expected heat here, near Barcelona, but not in the north especially in the mountains. The common Camino starting point in St. Jean Pied de Port, France, was in the 90's this week. I'm not liking hiking in the heat. For the first time I've developed blisters. Better now as those toes have two days to heal and toughen up prior to our start. Tomorrow is the long trip to St. Jean where the weather forecast is three days of rain and cooler temperatures.