Camino 2

“Donde esta el camino de santiago” I ask a few times a day. The response is usually a long string of gibberish that I don't understand with some pointing. People repeat numbers twice but they are the only part of the explanation I understand. “yes 2 something in that direction, gracias” I have met a fairly large number of people who speak some English. In fact they speak a fair bit of English, enough for me to be able to converse with them fairly easily. Well easy for me, I'm the one speaking my native tongue. The camino really is quite scenic. The northern part frequently takes you to the water and the shore has been compared to the shore of Ireland. Big rocky cliffs that yield to short stretches of sandy beach. One such beach was carved out by a small stream that feeds into it and after swimming in the ocean one can rinse off in the fresh water of the mountain stream. The water is cold but very refreshing after a day of walking. When not along the water the camino takes to the hills, walking up and down the hilltops you can look out to see nearby green fields, red roofed towns, grey mountains poke out of white clouds and if one can ignore the physical difficulty of the hike, the scenery is quite beautiful. I can no longer ignore the pain I've been feeling. Every day my knees get worse and I fear they will actually suffer permanent damage. The camino has beaten me, for now. But one day I'd like to finish what I started. I'd walked about 160k and as I sit on a bus going south I admit defeat.

El Camino Del Norte De Santiago

The Northern Path to Santiago. I have been a tourist and a traveler but right now I'm trying something different. Right now I'm a pilgrim. I'm sitting in a dwelling provided by a church in some town in Spain who's name I don't care to know. Next to me is a sleeping cat. Around me on every wall are photos of some of the pilgrims who came through here. 2 rooms down is the room I will share tonight. It has about 30 beds, bunked. No sheets or anything. I asked, someone to ask, for a blanket without it the night would have been quite cold. My right foot hurts from knee to toe. A combination of aches and pains that leaves me considering the pros and cons of a wooden leg. Think about it, it's all I'm saying. Today I have sent a little over 6 kilos (~15 pounds) of stuff I don't need to a friend in Valencia. My pack should not have been more than 6 kilos total to begin with. I feel prepared for this now. I can do this. We started 3 days ago in Santander. We have walked about 60k. 35 on the first day. The pilgrimage requires a lot of faith. The path is marked by a series of arrows. They are found on the ground, on curbs, trees, signs, walls, benches, all over the place. Sometimes there are 6 arrows at an intersection telling you which way you should be gong. Sometimes there is one that a car has parked on top of. Other times it takes a leap of faith. These arrows don't take you via the most direct path to anything... other than a church. Have no fear ye of most pious faith, if there is a church on a hilltop 2 miles out of your way then the arrows will direct you to that hilltop. From this hilltop you can see another hilltop with another church and rest assured that it shalt not be missed. On occasion a local will point out a shortcut but do not fall into temptation. Sure, this shortcut will save you 3k of walking but you will miss both a church and an opportunity to cross a river on a bridge made sometime just past the roman era. These shortcuts require a different type of faith. For instance faith in my Spanish.... It's getting better. When not on the most out of the way wilderness trails possible you find yourself on roads not entirely made for pedestrians. The pilgrimage is a popular concept with the locals so they will honk and wave and sometimes it takes a little faith to assume they are saying hi as they drive straight at you honking at 50 miles an hour. At the moment it is taking a miniscule shred of faith to believe that none of the 30 people who I will be sharing a room with will snore too loudly. Maxine has faith that by continuing to do exactly what caused her legs to hurt will suddenly cause her legs to get better. I have faith that despite any preparation, prior research, experience, proper gear, or any idea of where I'm going, I will inevitably arrive where I need to be. So have faith my friends, I will return.

Post Pueblo

Soria bus station: Maxine, my travel partner de jour is reporting her camera lost at the police station. I don't want to hang around, I need to write while I have time. The bus will take me to a point along the el camino. A famous pilgrimage trail, we're doing a small piece along the north. Maxine says it should take 3 weeks. I just heard of the plan last night. We got a ride from the teary goodbye session at the end of Pueblo Ingles. I think I'm far too used to good-byes. The program its self was amazing as is to be expected from any program where you confine a group of 30 people to a ghost town and force them to interact in a one to one basis. Everybody leaves feeling like they have made a dozen friends. I make no speculations of the future but I had a great time. I was asked many times why I do it and what's in it for me and the answer is simple. There is no other venue that will allow me to have so much interaction with so many local people, from so many backgrounds, of a country where I don't speak the language. I've met everyone from house wives to business owners. They have told me about many aspects of Spanish culture, a little about the politics, much about Spanish business, and a large assortment of life philosophies, stories and viewpoints. I would certainly do it again.