The Handkerchief

   One of the decisions made as I prepared for the Camino was around blowing my nose.  Every morning I have to blow my nose.  I've assumed it's my sinuses draining, and that's a good thing, so I always try to have a tissue in my pocket.  Cold weather also activates my nose, and I knew there was a possibility of some cold mornings and nights in Spain.  I was going to have to take tissues with me - lots of them.
   But one day I noticed my husband pulling out his handkerchief.  The light went on and I saw a better solution:  take two handkerchiefs so I could wash one each day: a simple but great solution. 
    A couple of weeks before I made it to Santiago I fell into step with three pilgrims from Vancouver Canada.  One of them, Gail, noticed me hanging out my handkerchief one day and commented that she had brought her husband's handkerchief and thought of him each time she pulled it out of her pocket.  I realized I was doing the same thing only I thought of Richard as I blew my nose.  It sounded more romantic to say I thought of him as I went for my handkerchief, or as I pulled it from my pocket. 
    Now that I am home, I have made a change based on this Camino experience.  After my mom died I tucked away a large collection of handkerchiefs.  I think they came from at least of three of her four sisters from my grandmother also.  Now I have them out and am using them.  It's great!  They work better than tissue, never falling apart on me.  If I forget one in a pocket it does not make a mess of my wash.  My use of tissues is greatly reduced, and hopefully that will save some trees along the way.   And best of all, I carry wonderful memories of my Grandmother, Mom, and Aunts with me as I carry their handkerchiefs in my pocket.
     I've mentioned that part of my fascination with the Camino was walking a path that thousands have walked before me.  Now, a very ordinary part of my daily routine, putting a handkerchief in my pocket, connects me with some strong women who also walked before me.  Only they knew me, laughed with me, corrected me, sang to and with me and prayed for me.  May you be blessed by the memory of people who have enriched your life.  Buen Camino!

Sophia

    I'm going through my journal to see what stories did not get into the blog.  I wrote quite a bit about the ruins of the Convent of San Anton (shooting stars and hospitality), but did not share about a little girl I met.  She arrived with her father that evening.  I don't know if they drove or walked over, but he settled on a bench and was trying to get his young daughter (about 4?) to eat.  She was much more interested in everything else.  She had big blue eyes and a beautiful round face surrounded by black curls.  And she smiled constantly.  I asked her father her name.  He answered, "Sophia."
     I was sitting on a bench on the other side of the courtyard and she made her way to me.  She spoke to me in Spanish, then I told her "No hablo Espanol."  That didn't phase her.  I told her "Hablo Inglese."  She continued to talk away in Spanish.  I would love to have known what she was telling me as she turned around and began to look around among the rocks on the grounds.  She spied a feather and brought it over to me.  She made it very clear that she was giving it to me and I told her "Gracias."  She looked more and found another feather, and another.  I realized that a pigeon had probably met its end in this courtyard and wasn't sure I wanted all of the remaining feathers, but Sophia continued to gather and bring them over to me - always accompanied by a lovely string of explanation, narration, or maybe exhortation.  I continued to smile, tell her "Gracias" and every so often remind her that I didn't speak Spanish.
    It is a lovely experience to receive the gifts of a child.  She did not need a mall or a large department store.  She didn't have to know me really well.  She saw something that to her was special, and she saw someone she could give it to.  It was great for me to practice just receiving without feeling I had to give her something also.  It seemed that all she needed or wanted was my acceptance of her gift.   I don't know if Sophia's father takes her to San Anton often, or if they were traveling that night and he knew it was a good place to stop, but I am grateful for that short time with this lovely little girl and her gifts.
    May you cherish the simple gifts in your life.  Buen Camino!

The Good Shepherd

        I am still making the transition from the Camino, but I do finally have my photos dowloaded from my camera (Thank you, Jim!).   I think I mentioned that one of the computers I used in Spain fried the USB adapter that I put the memory card in.  Well, when I returned home I found that the memory card itself must have been damaged as I could not get my photos to download.   A friend who is a photographer was able to find the right piece of equipment to get the pictures out of the camera.  

    So I've added some of the pictures I had wanted to put in originally.   One blog I never wrote, but thought about often, was about sheep.  About 10 days into the Camino I was walking along and all of a sudden a bunch of sheep were moving in front of me- or I should say they moved in front of me, blocked the road, and stopped.  Their shepherd was in the place where they no doubt lived (a stable?  barn?).  He was yelling at them and dogs were barking at them as he tried to get them to move across the Camino path and into the field beyond.  But they weren't moving.  The ones in the front came to a dead stop rather than move beyond the path. 

   Now my friend Kelly tells me that sheep are stupid.  I didn't get to watch them long enough to confirm, but I certainly saw that they were completely unmotivated.  Or maybe they were just afraid about what was ahead in that field - was fear holding them back?  Whatever it was, the shepherd sounded very frustrated and was yelling loudly.  I wondered how often this routine was repeated - daily?  Had the shepherd not found a better way to deal with the sheep?  They did finally start to move forward and once one did they all followed, but it took a lot of shoving from the back and barking by the dogs.

     Less than a week later I saw another shepherd.  This time the shepherd was quietly walking along, the sheep following.  There were a couple of dogs, but they stayed towards the back and were quietly walking also.  Maybe the sheep were use to this routine.  Maybe it had been difficult getting them started in the morning, but it struck me as a different kind of shepherding.  He walked first, quietly and confidently, and the sheep seemed to be fine with following.

    After seeing the first shepherd I had started thinking about Psalm 23 with God described as "The Lord is my shepherd...".    Jesus is also seen as the good shepherd and we are to be the sheep.  I didn't like the idea of a shepherd yelling at me: pushy and noisy.  I was more inclined toward the shepherd who simply led the way.  But then, on the Meseta, when there were days that I had to keep walking even though my feet hurt, I was hot, I was tired...  well, maybe a shepherd yelling at me to keep moving might have been helpful.  I was certainly talking to God quite a bit at those times.  So I continued to think about these two shepherds.

    Then I saw still another one.  This time he was at the top of a slope, just sitting and watching as his dogs moved the sheep up the slope to the drinking troughs.

   





    Now that was an image.  I could picture God the Shepherd as the one with the big picture - the overview.  From the shepherd's place he would be able to see if any sheep went in the wrong direction and the dogs missed them.  If they did I'm sure the shepherd would be the one to go after that one sheep.  But here the dogs really had a significant role.  They were in charge of getting the sheep to move, of getting them to the goal.  And I tell you, they were working hard.   Besides the one that jumped into the trough the other one walked up behind the shepherd and just flopped on the ground covered with sweat and panting.  Hard work bringing sheep to water.

    Well, finally, towards the end of the Camino I saw my last shepherd - this time a woman.  I was on the side of the road resting when I saw her walking with the sheep.  I expected them to continue right by me, but instead she headed them into the woods.   That surprised me - both that they were going that way, and that the sheep actually turned and went!  I wondered how this shepherdess worked with the sheep to get them to head into the woods.  Was there something very familiar just beyond that I didn't see?  Were they smarter sheep?  Better trained? 

     While in Spain, where shepherding is a real occupation, I had the chance to see better why God might be called our Shepherd - why Jesus would be the Good Shepherd.  May the love of the Shepherd be present in your life today.  Bueno Camino!

Thinking about prayer

    I was going to call this a post script, but on second thought, I think I will continue writing for a while.  I'd like to share some of the things that were going around in my mind, but couldn't find a computer and by the time I did I was on to something else.  Also, I have pictures I'd like to share, but I'm still having some technical troubles in that area so that is yet to come.  So... if you like, you can continue to check this blog.  If you are having emails sent automatically and no longer want to follow the blog, well... good luck with that.  I have no idea how to get you off.  But I promise I will check on that at some point.  I'm still learning my way around this thing and at least I don't have to insert euros or hold up others waiting for the internet anymore.
    I've been thinking about prayer since I saw my friends John, Pat and Russell (from Australia) in Santiago.  Back on Sept 23 I had dinner with them.  We had been meeting off and on since we entered the region of Castilla y Leon early in the Camino.  John and Pat are married and their friend Russell had heard of the Camino years ago and felt drawn to it.  Russell had a lot of problems with blisters, but she was doing well since Leon.  Pat, though, had a knee that was causing her a lot of trouble.
   The morning after our dinner I walked four miles to Villafranca, then stopped for some breakfast.  There I ran into my three Aussie friends again.  At this point we could take the more scenic but difficult route over the mountain, or walk closer to the road on an easier route.  All four of us had decided to go over the mountain - the one I wrote about a while back that nearly did me in.  As I told them good-bye and headed out, Pat asked me to pray for her as she wasn't sure how her knee would do. 
   So I did, in fact as I realized what a long sharp incline I was on I prayed even harder for Pat.  I was throwing in some prayers for myself also.  On the descent I started to pray more fervently for both of us, but as I prayed I just couldn't imagine how this could go well for Pat.  I knew my own knees were feeling the stress of the constant downward movement-- how was Pat's bad knee going to manage?  What could God possibly do for her?
   It's interesting, I had no problem praying for Pat... for myself, for Russell and John also.  But I also have a feeling that God really has more to do than look out for a few people on one mountain on a particular day.  I pray though I just don't always know how all this works; why should God be involved in the small details of my everyday life?
    I heard from mutual friends that they saw John, Pat and Russell at O'Cebreiro the next day, so I knew they had made it that day, but I was very curious about how it had gone.  Finally, a couple of days after I had arrived in Santiago I saw them in the plaza outside the cathedral.  We had a joyful reunion, then I told Pat that I had been praying for her that day in September.  She said, "You did?  You really did?  Guess what happened?"  Then she told me about how John as their navigator led them onto what he thought was the turn for the mountain.  But he had made an error and too late they realized they were on the eaiser road route.  Pat gave me a big grin and said she did fine on that day and was ready the next day to go up O'Cebreiro.
   So did God listen to me and then micro-manage John so he missed the turn?  I doubt it.  (And besides, why didn't God make that descent easier for me if God really was listening to my prayer!)   But maybe God doesn't have to hear our particular requests - just the act of praying is important because we're connecting with our Creator and also with one another.  And maybe that opens the door for good things to happen:  people with weak knees take the wrong route, and other people tackle difficult mountains -obstacles they had thought impossible.
      My Pilgrim's Credential includes some short suggestions under the heading "Spirit of the Camino."  One says, "Sense the prayers of those who have gone before you, leave good will behind for those who will come after you, appreciate your companions who walk with you."  Another notes, "Give thanks at the end of each day."  The Camino had a spirit about it in which I truly felt the prayers of all those who had gone before in addition to those carrying me in prayer as I walked.   Early in this blog I mentioned a Korean woman that I met, Maria, and asked for prayers for her.  I never did see her again.  But I have a sense that the spirit of the Camino and all the prayers before have helped her in her own pilgrimage.  May our conversations with God continue and deepen as well as our concerns for one another.  Bueno Camino! 
  

Finistierre: The end of the world, and the beginning of new worlds

Looking out from Finisterre

   So yesterday I visited the end of the world: Finistierre.  It was a 2 and 1-2 hour bus ride from Santiago.  I must have taken the local coming back as it was even longer, but we followed the coast all but the last 30-40 minutes... a beautiful ride!

    Finistierre is a lovely town on the coast - beautiful ocean, beaches, fishing boats, piers...   After we got off the bus some of the pilgrims who were staying went off to settle into an alberque.  Since mine was a day trip I started following the signs for "Faro", the lighthouse and the true end.  It was a 2-1/2km trek uphill with grand views back to Finistierre, down at the ocean breaking into rocks, and to the mountains at our side.  Finally we reached the end.

Almost to the end

   I´m not certain if the lighthouse is still in service.  We weren´t allowed to walk around much there.  But we could climb onto the large boulders and rocks and sit and look out at the ocean.   I was at the farthest out point of land and all I could see was the blue of the sea mixing with the blue mist of the sky to the point that I could not tell one from another on the horizon.  I sat there and could easily see why it was thought that this was the end of the earth.  There was no telling from my view what might happen farther out in the ocean.

THE END

   

So as I thought about this I thought about sailors.  I personally would not head out into the ocean beyond where I could see land - and I know that even when I see land I get confused about what I am looking at from out on water.  Things just look differently.  I use land and landmarks for guidance, but sailors use stars and a larger picture for guidance.  It is the sailors from the norse country that made it to North America.  It was the sailors that helped Paul to set out to cover a larger area as he evangelized.  It was a sailor, Christopher Columbus, who finally broke the stalemate of living with what was known at one time and set out on an adventure to see if there might be a different answer.

     Edwin Friedman writes about this significant event that broke open a medieval world and pushed the world into the renaissance, new understandings about our universe and world, and a new age of learning.  It certainly meant adjustments for the church also as it tried to remain rigid with its teachings.  And then we have the peregrinos who for hundreds of years had been traveling to Santiago de Compostela, which could not have been anything but an adventure with that same possibility of death that Columbus and his crew faced.   All along the way we have seen ancient cemeteries for the burial of pilgrims.  But we have also seen crosses all along the way commemorating the death of modern pilgrims who died on their journey.   What was it like for those peregrinos - what courage they had but there must have been many fears.  But just as now, death can come at anytime, not just on a pilgrimage.

    In that way I guess I´ve always thought of life itself as a journey.  I don´t know when mine will end, but I can make choices about how I will live within this life.  Along the Camino I have learned a lot about what I can tolerate (cleanliness is greatly overrated), I learned about my own impatience and the great blessing of those days when I remembered to be patient with others.   I have learned that each person has a story - a reason for the fear, sadness, joy, peace in their face.  I have learned that the aches and pains of one day can heal with a good night´s sleep.  I have learned that we can communicate with others in many more ways than language.  As I continue to process my five-week Camino I continue to harvest other lessons.   I´m sure they will continue to come throughout the following months.

    So how shall I live in the years remaining?  I hope that I will look for and find the blessings in each day.  I seek to be patient with others and to encourage rather than criticize.  I hope to be one who will listen to the stories of others, walk with them in times of happiness and sorrow.  I seek the courage to speak out when I see injustice.  I pray that love and joy will lace through each of my days - and I know that it will be my own choices that will help to make that happen.  I will seek other adventures, pilgrimages, ways to break myself from my own routines, fears... those things that might keep me from changing and growing. 
   I´ve been to the end of the world, and I´ve returned.  The Camino is finished, and now I begin.  Thank you so much for traveling with me, I can not express how much it has meant to me to be held in your thoughts and prayers.  May your own Camino be a very special story - I know it already is for it is yours.  May God´s peace and grace go with you until we meet again.  Bueno Camino!

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Holding my Compostela, safe in its tube

   I write today from Santiago - finally found a bar with a computer.  Last Friday as I continued to get closer to Santiago de Compostela I heard a church bell tolling in the distance - someone had died.  I would not have known this, but the night before I heard a slow mournful tolling of the bell from the church in the little village where I was staying.  It would ring low twice, then a high, minor bell.  Low...      Low...   Higher...  Over and over for about 1-2 hour, very, very slowly.  It drew me to the church - but just as I arrived the tolling stopped.  When I walked into the church a young man came down from the balcony and though he spoke in Spanish I knew he was telling me that I needed to leave.  Sure enough, as I was walking past the graves in the cemetery outside the church I saw a car arrive, then another, and another.  The tolling was calling mourners to gather for a funeral.

   So as I walked on Friday I heard this bell in the distance ringing for over 45 minutes.  It did not have the low, low, high, but rather just one bell, over and over, and again... very slowly.  I wondered if it was calling people to a  funeral.  It was around noontime and I thought that was an odd time in Spain to schedule something.  It also went on for such a long time...  I started to wonder if it was just acknowledging that someone had died, or maybe it was a special person in the community?

   So as I was walking I was thinking about death.  I remember about 7 or 8 months before my dad died he told me he´d had a dream.  He walked into a room and the lights were low, but when his eyes adjusted he saw his brothers John and Roy (both deceased).  He looked around and then saw his dad and others.  Then he woke up just as his mother entered the room.  I asked him how it felt to be in that room.  He said "It was good."
   I don´t know what heaven or eternal life is like.  We certainly like to think that we will see our loved ones once again.  But it occurred to me that on Sunday when I enter Santiago I will experience a bit of heaven.  I was thinking, really hoping, that I would see people I have not see for a long time in my walking - people who were important to me on this Camino.  I had a preview of that on Friday night.  I was staying in Arzua and had just asked at the tourist kiosk how to get to the church.  As I walked down the street I glanced to my right and there was Leif (from Sweden) with some woman I didn´t recognize.  I hadn´t seen Leif and his wife Karin for at least two weeks or more.  I immediately crossed the street and we joyfully greeted one another.  He was having a glass of wine with Margit from Finland - another friend of theirs who they had not seen for sometime until that night.  So he took both of us back to their room in a hostel to see Karin who had been taking a nap (she had an encounter with many bedbugs and had an allergic reaction and the med made her sleepy). 
    We had a joyful reunion then went out to dinner together (and this time exchanged email addresses before separating again).  It was wonderful.  This lovely couple and I had been the only ones at a new alberque weeks earlier and had shared a dinner together that night.  We then saw each other twice again as we were visiting churches, then they disappeared.  I started to wonder who else I would get to see again.

    Saturday I walked 19 miles.  The guide suggested stopping in Arco but I arrived there at noon - to early to even go to the alberque.  I kept walking.  I stopped in a field and spread my poncho and ate cheese and bread.  Walked more.   Stopped again when I saw a woman sitting on a stone bridge with a lovely river underneath and nice shade.  She was  from Austria but now lives in Sacramento CA.  Soon Jean came by, from Los Angeles CA.   We talked about how unusual to have three people from the states together on the camino.

   Jean and I continued to walk together the rest of the afternoon.  It was hot and we kept looking for a place to stay.  In Lavacolla there is an airport so we checked at one of the hotels along the Camino.  They told us "NO ROOMS!"   We continued walking and when we saw a little bar in Vilamaior we decided to take a break - but wait!  There was a sign that they had rooms.  Jean and I shared a room that night, then the next morning we walked the final 7 miles into Santiago.

    There have been some reunions, but also there are those I have missed.  I never saw Cathy from Canda (who shares a birthday with me).  I know she had to leave October 3, so she is gone.  I will never see her again, but I share the memory of a lovely day walking with her as we went through Pamplona then headed up a mountain.   I didn´t think to say good-bye way back when - I didn´t realize we´d never see each other again.

A medieval festival is in Santiago the day we arrive

   So now that the Camino is over and I´m making the transition to prepare to return home.  Today I went to the end of the world.  I have some thoughts about that - I hope to share tomorrow.  (By the way, I think the last computer I used not only would not upload my pictures, but fried my adapter- hopefully I can add more when I get home).  Until then, Bueno Camino!

Having coffee with Jean and Ann Marie

Judgement Day

     A few days ago I went through Sarria.  Many people begin the Camino there as you must walk at least 100km to qualify for a Compostela and it is about 118-120km from Santiago.  The guidebook warns that it might be tempting to pass judgement on these new walkers.  Oh, he was so right.
    So as I sat in a town today eating lunch I noticed all the walkers going by with just day packs.  That means they are either on a tour and the bus will drop off there packs at the next lodging for the evening, or they have paid a service to send their packs ahead.  I look out and think, "Yeah you´re walking easily along... try it with a pa...  oh right, no judgement." 
    I´m walking along enjoying the quiet of the path when I hear lots of voices.  Another group with day packs, all excited, walking along and passing me, "Please, this isn´t another tourist attractions - I´m on a pilgrim... oh,  no judgement."
    I´m seeing new walkers with packs -- "They probably just started in Sarria, maybe back in Leon... either way... again I remember, no judgement"   It is very easy to judge others and note how they have taken the easy way - but I really don´t know that, do I?
   So I finally talk with one of the new faces - a young lady all in black including a jacket (how hard a walk could she be having if she still has on her jac... - no judgement).  I ask her where she´s from.  She answers Bogata Columbia.  Well, this isn´t just a day trip.  We talk a little more.  She does massage therapy, acupuncture and other alternative healing methods.  She was going to be in Santiago (she spoke english well, but I didn´t understand exactly why she was going there), so she decided she would take an extra week of vacation and walk from Sarria.  Her name is Carmen.  It´s really hard to pass judgement on someone when you talk with them a short while.  I liked Carmen.  I understood why she was taking this opportunity to experience what she could of the Camino.  Perhaps she will come back another time and walk more.
    Closely related to judgement is pride.  Someone passed me and asked where I started from.  I said Roncesvalles and the response was Ahhh! You could see my status rising in his eyes.  But claiming the pride of how far I walked seemed to be a judgement on his short walk.  As I finish this walk into Santiago I hope I can take personal satisfaction in knowing I have done well on my Camino, but not boast.  And may I look at each Peregrino as someone who is walking the Camino for their own reasons.  And who am I to judge?
Bueno Camino!

More Walking in Darkness

   When I left this morning the stars were shinging once again - what a difference!  Instead of feeling claustrophobia from the blackness it felt as if the stars were the doorways to the universe.  So as I walked this morning I thought about my other senses, how I use them while walking in the dark.
  There are smells.  So many lovely smells from the plants and trees growing on the side of the path.  Garden smells, herb smells...  But because there is so much farming in the area there is also the lovely smell of manure - a sign that I am approaching one of the small dairy farms along the way, the stable in the middle of a village, or the corn field that has apparently now been fertilized in preparation for next year´s planting.
    This morning I noticed how the temperature of the air continued to change from time to time, the way many lakes in New England have cold spots and warm spots. When I first left the air was chilly, but I took one turn and it was as though heat had been stored in this place throughout the night and it was now emitted from the brush along the road. A little farther and it was colder once again.
    And I hear the breeze.  One sound if there are trees nearby - the rustle tells me about the trees.  Or if it picks up more like a wind there´s the soft roar in my ears.  Every so often I will also hear water and know that there is a little mountain stream or possibly a fountain nearby. Sometimes I also hear other pilgrims.  This is a nice sound as it confirms for me that I haven´t missed a turn - others are on the path also.  In fact, the other morning I walked by two pilgrims having breakfast outside of a bar.  Just beyond them I heard a whistle.  I went back and they told me that the bartender had pointed them in the other direction to catch the Camino.  I went back to the turn and with more searching with my flashlight I found the yellow arrow.  I was thankful for there help.
   Other sounds include roosters crowing, cows mooing, dogs barking (many dogs barking), sometimes a lone cat´s meow.   A couple of times I´ve heard owls.  Bianca who I met a few nights ago said she heard the howling of a wolf one morning - I haven´t heard that yet, and that´s okay!
   I will miss the sounds, smells, sensations of walking in the dark on the Camino.  The time leading up to sunset approaches a certain reverence and the sunrise itself is the beginning of worship.  May the sun rise on a good day for you.  Bueno Camino!

Walking in Darkness

   I left the alberque about 6:45 this morning.  It was the darkest morning yet.  I was very thankful that I had purchased a new flashlight yesterday in Sarria to replace the one I dropped and broke.  The darkness is interesting.  I used my flashlight at first to see where I was walking and to follow the yellow arrows.  Then on the Meseta with its endless horizon I found all the stars, the Milky Way and the full moon.  The brightness of the full moon combined with the white stone of the path made it possible to follow my way with no flashlight (except when paths intersected and I needed to find arrows.
   But the moon has been waning over the past 10 days or so.  A couple of days ago it was just a sliver in the morning sky.  No more moon to guide.  And this morning there was cloud cover - no stars, simply pitch black as I stepped out of the light surrounding the alberque.  My flashlight on, I noticed a few things.  First, I could see nothing beyond the two feet in front of the circle made by my light.  I really had no idea what was ahead... and I didn´t really like that.
   Secondly, I couldn´t tell if the path was inclining up or down by my eyesight.  I could tell be the sensation of walking on it.  Now this was okay, I couldn´t glance ahead and see if it was going to be straight up for a long time, short time, or however it might change.
   Thirdly, I was very glad to have my little flashlight.  When I turned it off so I could check and see if there might be a star somewhere in the sky, I could see nothing... nothing!  I was so glad to have that light.
   But the night doesn´t last forever.  The first light finally came.  That´s the light that allowed me to make out the dark form of trees against the sky.  But the path itself was still dark.  Then the earth rolled a little more towards the sun and I found that I could see the path when it wasn´t covered by limbs of trees.  When it was, it disappeared once more.  The earth rolled a little more and at last...  I could make out the path even when under the trees and more importantly, I could see the dark mounds of manure (lots of cows in this area) enough to avoid them.  That´s when I turned my flashlight off.
    No wonder there are so many references to the "light of God" in scripture.  The darkness isn´t bad, its just...dark.  Nothing can be distinguished from something else and even after letting eyes adjust, things are still just different shades of dark.  But with light, even the soft light of the moon, forms start to appear and with the light of the sun we can distinguish objects from one another and see colors.  The light helps us to live together. 
    Yes, the sun came up this morning on a cloudy day on the Camino.  It´s been raining lightly all morning so I´m going to try to push forward a little more and take advantage of the coolness.  May the light of God shine throughout your day, rain or shine!  Bueno Camino!

Two Mountains

   This past weekend I had the opportunity to climb two mountains... and had two very different experiences.  I thought the first mountain on Saturday would be the easier one and would prepare me for the larger O´Cebreiro on Sunday.  I couldn´t have been more wrong.  Yes, the first one was not as high, but the climb was a huge challenge for me.
   I´ve been thinking about these two mountains.  How could two experiences be so different?  One difference certainly had to do with expectations.  The first was the middle of three options:  we could walk along the highway (and would still have to climb), we could take option 2, climbing one mountain and enjoying the beautiful views, or we could take option 3, climbing... I think, 2 mountains before heading to O´Cebrieiro (I did not even consider this one).  But because the mountain did not look to bad, and because the guidebook said it would be challenging, but come on, you´ve walked this far - you can do it, and because I wanted to see the views.
    So I made it to Triacastle and stopped for breakfast, then headed up the mountain around 10AM.   I should have had an inkling of what was to come when I turned onton the street leading to the mountain - it went straight up!  And up.  Then turned to a gravel path, and continued to go up.  Yes the views were wonderful, whenever I finally found a level place I could stand.  But the path just seemed to go up and up.  Every so often there would be a short level area and I´d think, yes!  now I can enjoy this.  But it would be shortlived as we would turn a corner and go up yet again.


I didn't need the arrow to tell me I needed to keep going up!



Yes, there is always a great view sooner or later!

    But be careful what you wish for.  At every turn I hoped we would start down, and finally we did.  And the descent was cruel.  It went down in the same way we went up.  I think I mentioned this is my last blog, but it really felt like we were going to descend right into hell.  By the time I reached the little town at the bottom I was done in.  And by the time I reached the Alberque a couple more towns over I was having doubts about even climbing O´Cebreiro.  Thank goodness for the angel of a hostess named Joanna.  She is from Holland and has been to Brazil a number of times so she is volunteering at "Do Brazil" an alberque sponsored by the confraternity of Santiago of Brazil.  I mentioned to her my long day and my concern about O´Cebreiro.  She told me she had hiked the mountain I just came down from and it is much harder the O´Cebreiro.  Oh?  Please tell me more.
    She drew me a picture.  She showed that I would walk about 4 or 5 km on level ground (that was good as it is always dark when I start).  Then I would have a very serious upward climb to La Faba, the first town.  But that was only one-third of the way.  Then I would have to continue to climb, but it would not be so intense, with some level places, really steep short places, then long, slow climbs on to the second village.  Then the climb would continue, but at the slow steady incline.  I hoped she was right.
   And she was!  The walk on Sunday was grueling on that first incline, but over all it was delightful.  I reached O´Cebreiro about noon and realized I still had energy to walk on.  The landscape, though was also changing.  While climbing I left the region of Castilla Y Leon and entered Galacia.  I was constantly hearing water as small mountain streams gushed by or water dripped right out of the mountain to the side of me.  I would come up to amazing vistas looking out over fields of many shades of green.  The air started to feel cooler and as we reached the peak there was a very cool breeze blowing.  But it was sunny and gorgeous and invigorating.
    We all have our ups and downs, but all mountains are not the same.   I continue to walk up and down as I move through the mountains of Galicia.  More about this region and its Celtic influence.  I´d add pictures, but there´s no adaptor here.  Hey - I´m glad I finally found internet!
   May your mountains be manageable and bring about wonderful things!  Bueno Camino!

Harvests and High Places

    Yesterday I was thinking about harvests.  It was a lovely walking day - about 16 miles, mostly flat.  That was great as there was a long tedious, rocky descent the day before.  All during the day I saw signs of harvest.  The grapes that I have been seeing in the vineyard all along are now being picked.  Tractor after tractor pulling trailers full of grapes went by yesterday.  I walked by a couple of bodegas where they are taking the grapes to start the process of making wine.

  As I walked I saw a man with a wheelbarrow picking apples, then a woman picking beans.  There were gardens with ripe peppers, tomatoes and many fields of melons.  It is that time of year and it made me think of Trinity UMC and our theme for this year, the scripture verse: "I am the vine and you are the branches."  We started with Vacation Bible Camp focusing on the fruits of the spirit and next year´s mission trip through the Society of St Andrew will have the harvest as it´s theme.  As I walked I was thinking about what I will harvest from my time on the Camino.  It is getting to that point - right now it looks like I will reach Santiago de Compostela next Sunday or Monday.   Time to reflect on what this journey has meant for me.  I´ll share some of my reflections later this week.

    One thing I´ve noticed is that we go back and forth from good days of walking to difficult days.  I mentioned the steep descent into Molinesca that was so difficult.  There was also a day when I was walking the Via Romana over large rocks, in full sun, no shade on the path.  The flies and gnats were so bad that for a mile or so I tucked my white handkerchief into my hat and had it fall over my face.  I was able to make out the road pretty well, but pulled it up every so often just to make sure I hadn´t wandered.

   Yesterday was a lovely, easy walk.  Today I went up a mountain.  I thought it was a small mountain, but this thing just kept going and going.  And going and going... and going.  I have to admit, the vistas were beautiful.  I even enjoyed some of the walking across the more level areas at the top.  But then the descent started.  It wasn´t as rocky as going into Molinesca, but it was much steeper at times - and it went on and on.  I was heading into the town of Trabadelo, but as I went down, down, down, I still couldn´t see the town.  There were very few of us on this option (many apparently took the route that followed the road).  I saw 4 other people.  I was by myself for the entire descent.  And I finally decided that I must be descending right into hell.  This was confirmed as I continued downward and the banks of ground on one side soared up into the air about a story and a half.  It really felt like I was about to go completely underground when I finally turned a corner and there was the fountain in Trabadelo.  I finally found a shady bench in town, collapsed and ate my cheese and apple, changed my socks, and headed out of town. 

    The reward at this point was a lovely (fairly flat) walk back and forth over the Rio Valcarce.  It was lovely, shady, and truly renewed my soul.  Today was a good preparation for O´Cebreiro tomorrow.  The guide book says allow 3 hours for the climb, but the hostess at the alberque assures me that while 1/3 is pretty steep the rest is more gentle -- and the descent is much better than todays!  I sure hope she is right.

   As I reach the peak of O´Cebriero I will enter into Galicia, the last of the regions covered by the Camino.  Tomorrow...  a new mountain, a new region, a new day.  Bueno Camino!

Walking with a Frenchman

    Yesterday after I posted I walked out into the courtyard of the alberque and who do I see but Danielle!  She´s a Frenchwoman who speaks very little English, but is delightful.  I met her at an alberque the third night of the Camino and have not seen her since.  We had a wonderful reunion.  She also let me know that she had Polly´s information so I love that she was able to help me to connect to Polly - even if we do not see one another again on the Camino.
    So today I headed out about 7AM.  Orion in the sky, Venus, I turn around every so often and watch another amazing sunrise.  The walking was easy in the coolness (luckily not as cold as the two nights before).  Stopped at the first town, then headed to the next.  I had now completed about 5 miles when a young Frenchman asked me if I knew the time.  I told him I didn´t and he noted that he had just posted a letter and it said 9:30 pickup so he wondered if it would go today.  Then he shrugged and said that it didn´t matter anyway - he´s on the Camino.
    We walked together the next 5 miles to Rabbinal and he talked the entire time.  He was very cute.  He told me he had started the Camino in Lourdes France and walked the Camino Avillia(sp?) which wasn´t very crowded, then it joined the Camino Frances.  He´s been walking for 4 weeks.  I asked him why he was walking the Camino and he told me, "Well, that is a very long story... I will try to tell you."  And the story began.
    Reason number 1.  For Adventure.  He loves the idea of adventure and so he has decided to just go whereever whenever.  He said "Sometimes it says the Camino is there... so I go there instead... a little adventure."  He said that if he doesn´t eat for 24 hours he´ll survive.  There will be a village with a market at some point.  If he has to sleep outside, that´s okay.  He likes sleeping under the stars.  He also said he enjoys seeing new places.  Plus he noted that he only knew a little Spanish, could not put together sentences, but he asks people words and is now speaking Spanish quite well.  Everyone who walked by who was Spanish seemed to converse easily with him.  He noted that many French do not bother to speak spanish, but since he is in their country he thinks it is nicer to speak their language, or at least try.
   He also noted that he has his cell phone, but put a message on it to not leave a message unless it is an emergency.  He checks every 4 days or so in case something has happened with his family.  He told them, to not expect him to call.  He did not bring a camera, instead if he sees something of real interest he is taking the time to draw it.  He said something like drawing is not efficient, but I´m on the Camino and it is not about an efficient journey.  He intends to take the time he needs to record his journey by drawing.
   Reason Number 2.  To step back and take time.  He had heard about the Camino before.  Then his grandparent died a few years ago and one of his uncles suggested the family walk the Camino de Puy (in France) one week each summer.  He went last year and really liked having that time set aside.  He added that he was a "Chief" at Boy Scout camp this past year and the training was at a monastery where they had time for training, but also for prayer and personal time.  He really liked that.  And he was at a place where he had time to do this "stepping" back.
   He talked about liking one aspect of the job he has had in Paris the last couple of years.  So he left his job and when he returns he wants to return to the aspect he liked.  He spent some time in the Monastery thinking about his work and got some clarity about what to do, so he thought, perhaps the Camino would also help bring some clarity.
    Reason number 3.  Hopes to reconnect to God.   He said he was raised in a Catholic family that is very involved with the church, but as he turned 21, 22 he started questioning and not taking it as seriously.  Now at 25 he feels very strongly that it is important to have God rather than for each of us to believe we are in total control of our lives.  I asked him about how he would describe God.  He thinks of God as a loving parent, someone who guides, but does not get upset if you go another way.  God is always there.
    In between the lines he explained and told stories that were great - like his mother has 9 brothers and sisters and each has 6-7 kids so he has over 50 cousins.  He made reference to a number of family meetings.  He talked about his grandfather who cared for acres of forests (he felt he should care for God´s creation), and now after his grandfather´s death how others in the family are stepping in to care for the land. 

Marc stops to help another French peregrino

One of many interesting cairns on the Camino

A Sheep dog earns a cool reward

A shepherd waits for the dogs to lead the sheep to him.

    So as we reached Rabbinal we parted as I stopped to eat my lunch.  We exchanged names. his in Marc.  I told him how much I enjoyed visiting with him and he said something like... "Yes, I know I really talked a lot."  But it was delightful, Marc.  May God be with you on your Camino.  Bueno Camino!

The temptations of half way - and I found the USB!

    Star log, Day 25.  I left the lovely alberque in Villares de Orbigo around 7:00AM.  I could still see the stars and just the very first hint of light.  Traveled on a lovely path over a hill to the next village.  I was going to show you pictures of this day, but this computer does not have a usb connection.  I´ll add them next time a computer does.  So here, imagine a picture of a thin red line of red sky showing through the church bell tower looking back at Villares.

   The walk was lovely, except people kept passing me.  It started bothering me.  I think that now I´m over the half way mark I´m more conscious of just how much time I have left.  In the evening I go through possible scenarios for day to day to see when I might get to Santiago.  In my sermon before I left I talked about my granddaughter continuously asking "How many more hours" as we traveled to Maine for clergy camp.  Now I´m asking, "How many more days to Santiago."  Time to get back into the journey.

   But it was hard.  Maybe I´m not walking fast enough and that´s why everyone passes me.  Maybe I´m not walking far enough each day (10 to 16 miles on average).  And now we´re going into the mountains, so it will take longer to walk each mile.  As I thought about this I found myself tempted with judging those who walked by me "He is walking way to fast...  he should slow down and enjoy the camino...  she´s rushing just like in real life".   And on and on.  Time to stop judging how others walk and pay attention to my own walking.

   About 9:00 I stopped and spread my poncho on the ground and enjoyed a breakfast of cheese and bread.  Traveled a little further and I saw a little place that my hostess last night told me about.  She said to watch for a guy about 8km away who would have coffee, juice, tea and a place to take a break - all for donations.  He also had a stamp (sello) for my pilgrim passport.  And there he was greeting everyone with a smile and an invitation to rest.  (picture next time)

    I moved on and arrived at the cruce above Astorga. (got a nice pic of that also with Astorga in the distance).  Nice to see where I´m going, but still another 45 - 60 minutes to walk.  Finally made it to Astorga and saw Steffie from Germany.  She was will us a couple of nights on the Meseta and is now taking two days in Astorga to let her leg rest as it has been painful.  I take heart in the fact that some much younger than I also have things to deal with.  She was disappointed (and maybe a little concerned that her leg might not get better).  We left with a hug and I gave words of encouragement.  I think she will catch up with me in a few days.

    On the other side of Astorga I visited the peregrino museum and the cathedral.  The museum is in a Gaudi building and it was nice outside, but spectacular inside with vaulted ceilings lined with tile, stained glass windows, and beautiful artwork.  The cathedral was also lovely, but after Leon... well...
   Time to continue on.  I got a bocadillo (sandwich), changed my socks, and was ready to walk.  But I had not gone far when my left foot started really bothering me.  I had expected a cool afternoon like the last couple of days (by the way, the morning has been freezing!), but it warmed up.  Not as hot as the meseta, but enough to mess with my feet.  I finally hobbled into Murias de Rechivaldo and got a bed at the lovely  alberque (pictures of it also - next time).  Now I´m recovered and I can see the Camino path right outside my door to the right.  I´ll start earlier in the morning, I´ll make it to Rabanal (in the mountains) and beyond I hope.  And I´ll look for a computer that has a USB so I can add some pictures next time.  Back to the journey, back to the Camino.   Bueno Camino!

Finally - the alberque!

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The courtyard of the alberque

The universe stays in balance

    So this morning Maria from England and I are waiting for the 7:50 bus to Leon.  We have made the decision to walk so we can enjoy Leon since we are not staying an extra day.  And we are talking about how we are working on the inner voices that say we should feel guilty.  The hospitalero told us we did not have to go to the bus station, the bus would stop for us at this plaza.  We saw the 7:50AM bus coming into the plaza, the driver saw us, and the bus continued over the bridge toward Leon.  So we walked to the bus station (plan B) and took the 9:05 bus (kind of 9:25).   Only 1,30€for the lovely 25 minute ride to Leon.
    When I got out at the bus station, my feet thanked me and all was well again.  So I started walking towards the old part of the city where I would find the Monastery Alberque.  All was great until I got into the old city - think Boston with even narrower streets, going in all directions.  I wandered for 45 minutes.  I asked an older man how to get to the Plaza Santa Maria and he helped me walk part way where another older man helped me to walk the rest of the way.  Only thing is they helped me to get to Plaza Santa Isadora on the other side of the old town.  But all was well again when Barbara and Carl for Germany called my name.  They were on the way to get a replacement battery for her watch so I stopped and ate breakfast at the plaza and when they returned they walked me to the alberque.  Wonderful people on the Camino!
    But then... I waited for almost an hour as the line crept very slowly to check into the alberque.  While there Joyce from Virginia arrived - I haven´t seen her in a week.  We visited for a while.  I found myself praying for patience as I could not understand how it could take so long to check in each person (write their name, country, age and where they started the camino).  Perhaps this was pennace for taking the bus?  Or just the universe staying in balance?
    But finally, I left my boots in the hall, put my sleeping bag on the upper bunk (they told me they´re saving the lower bunks for the older women - how could I argue with that?), and headed into Leon.  We had a thunderstorm last night and the air today is absolutely wonderful - sunny, little breeze, not the hot afternoon that we´ve been having this past week.

Plaza Mayor market

    First I walked by the Plaza Mayor where they were having a Saturday market.  There were loads of vendors with fruits, vegetables, garlic, you name it.  Also many apparel vendors: boots hanging up, clothing, tons of underwear, scarves and more.  I wish I could have videotaped the plaza as it was packed with people, lots of sounds, smells, movement.
   Later, as I sat at a square Joyce walked up and we got started talking.  She helped a couple of Canadians find their hostal on the map, then we helped another English speaking person with a question, then we headed down the street.  First stop, Gelato.  Mine was Trufa (even I knew it was truffle) and it was delicious.  We continued to walk, made it to a grocery store and picked up food supplies for the walk tomorrow.  Mostly we just enjoyed walking in this beautiful city with plazas, fountains, trees, parks.  It was lovely.
   It was also interesting to be in a large city on a Saturday.  People were out from about 10AM on this morning... markets in other plazas also, bars and cafes open, people everywhere.  Then about 2PM things started to slow down, shops closed, people disappeared and the siesta time began.  Around 6PM tonight people will start coming out again.

The main road into the old part of town

   I went to the Cathedral for only a short time as it closed at 1PM for a wedding.  But the windows were absolutely incredible.  I think I read there are 125 stained glass windows and I believe it.  In fact there are so many that it has collapse twice, once in the 17th century and once in the 19th.  I will return this evening - I want to drink in the light still more.  I believe the designer did bring a little bit of heaven right into the cathedral and it was such a delight after the darkness of most of the romanesque cathedrals along the way.

    I´m taking today as my sabbath and will go to the pilgrim mass at this monastery at 7PM tonight before dinner.  Tomorrow I must walk.  May your sabbath, however you take it, renew your spirit.  Bueno Camino!

One of the many plazas and fountains

The Big Day

   So today was the day I´ve been awaiting with a little dread - it was a 15.2 mile walk on the original Roman road (which means lots of rocks).  There is no shade along the way, no villages to stop in, no fountains, nothing, just a day of walking.  But I was ready for it.  Last night at dinner we heard the weather report and there was a dwindling possibility of rain - so we all hoped for a cloud covered day.

The Roman road less traveled

 This morning I was walking by about 6:45AM and I could see the moon, but also

a number of clouds in the sky - yeah!  There was a beautiful sunrise thanks to the clouds surrounding the sun.  (picture later, no usb adapter at this computer).  But around 8:00AM I started to notice that there was nothing but rain ahead.  I could see the rain shower directly ahead, but to the left was a very, very dark rain...  I kept my eye on it.  I started thinking about how we see trouble ahead.  Sometimes due to the choices we´ve made (did my easy day yesterday mean I´d be caught in a thunderstorm today).  Sometimes we see trouble and we try to avoid it - but when you have 15 miles to walk, you just keep walking straight towards the rain.  There´s no way I was going to add any miles. 

   Funny thing about trouble, as you continue towards it, sometimes you find it isn´t trouble at all.  I watched as this huge rainstorm continued to move in front of me from west to east.  At one point the sun broke out behind me - ahh, look for a rainbow.  Within a couple of minutes I saw the beginning color taking form.  I continued to watch this live slide show unfold as the color intensified, then changed, then arced downward, and finally there was a small part of a think rainbow with vivid colors.  It continued to show for quite a while.

   

Oh yeah - miles to go!

So I kept walking, very thankful that the sun was covered more often than not.  Finally about 11:30 I came to the turn to start the final walk into Mansillia de los Muela.  I thought I could see the town way in the distance...  My impulsive brain said "yes!  You´re almost there."    My reasonable brain said, "Don´t get too excited, you have miles to go."   So I have my goal in sight, but just had to keep on walking.  I was thinking about vision and goals that we set for ourselves as I walked.  We see where we want to go, but sometimes we give up before we get there -- does it always take longer than we thought it would?   I remember watching a video of the poet David Whyte and he talked about a woman who told him that she knew what she wanted to do in her life, but she took a job that was of only some interest and in the blink of an eye, twenty years had passed.  Yes, we do have to stay on the path towards our goals if we are going to get there.  And sometimes those paths go on a long time.

    I stopped and ate my apple.  Changed my socks for the 4th time (didn´t want to take a chance on my feet on this long day), then thought I´d be heading into town.  But the road went on and on and on.  At 12:45 I finally made it around the bend, only to see that what I´d thought was the town was actually a little suburb and the town was now another couple miles to the left.  The pathway narrowed and was surround by thistles and thorny bushes.  It looked like it had hardly been used (there´s something called a sendra, a gravel path that parallels the highway that apparently most of the pilgrims had used.)  So I plodded on.  Finally I could see the church steeple and after going through the underpass under the hwy and through the medieval gate into town (the last one in Spain if I understand correctly), I arrived.  My goal was reached, but I have to tell you it was not easy today.   Something for me to consider as I look at what my goals might be for my 70th, 80th and 90th decades of life.

      So stay on the path...    Bueno Camino!

Calzadilla de los Hermanillos

   Last night I indulged.  After walking all the way across Sahagun to the monastery I found that they no longer have just "beds" but only single or double rooms.  So for about $30 I got a single room.  When the door was opened I almost cried - it was such a beautiful sight.  Typical of Catholic retreat centers, it was a tiny room with a desk to the left of the door, then a small twin bed on the right under a window that opened to the terrace.  But to the left was a door to a bathroom, almost as large as the room and there was a BATHTUB in it!  I took a nice long bath and my feet greatly enjoyed soaking for a while.
   This morning I did not leave until 7AM as I found that the monastery has outdoors that had a padlock on them until that time.  But I still had a chance to walk in the cool of the night air as the sun was rising behind me.  It was a short day as tomorrow I have a 16 mile walk with no stops in between - it´s all or nothing!   Today I began walking on the Via Romana, an extensive road built by the Romans and still in amazing condition.  I can only imagine the labor that was involved as the heavy rock foundation did not come from this area.

This is Barbara from Germany waiting at the cross in front of the alberque

    Around 10:30 I arrived in Calzadilla de los Hermanillos and since the alberque would not open until 1PM I headed back to the cafe I passed.  I met up with Maria of England who I've met a couple of times recently and we had coffee and a chance to get to know each other better.  After a while Russell, a woman from Australia came by.  She´d been waiting for the bus for an hour and decided to see if the host at the cafe would call her a taxi (they did) so she could head to Mansilla to meet her two friends.  I had met all of them as we crossed in Castilla y Leon last week and we've been passing one another along the way.  But Russell had blisters form that got more and more serious and she had to have a doctor look at them a few days ago.  She´s traveling by bus and will do so to Leon.  She said they are healing and she hopes to walk once more after Leon.
    She told us about this little community after we said we were staying here.  They had stayed here last night and she talked about the lovely meal they were served at the cafe.  And as happens in the villages across Spain in the evening people all came out and she said that a lady took her arm and invited her to see her garden.  She noted that there are parks and little plazas with benches all over the town.  I went exploring this afternoon and she´s right.

The alberque (bed & breakfast) and cafe where I´m using the internet.  Notice the solar panel on the roof.

The quiet streets at siesta time.  Only an American or peregrino would be out this time of day!

This is in a little park and it shows how the Romans built their roads.  The road bed to the right looks like what I walked on this morning.

Other side of the park with aquaduct and the church in the back.

What a lovely place to hang laundry.