Hommage to the Pilgrimage

One Year Later...

So here it is, September 26, and I realized yesterday that I began my Camino from Roncesvalles, Spain, at 6:00am on the morning 25th of September, 2012. It has been one full year, and memories of my walk still strike me every day. When I walk from my new house down along Wascana Creek, and into the Crescents of the Cathedral area, along McIntosh Street to my office in the Court House, I'm thinking of the time I spent following yellow arrows and scallop shells through the narrow streets and valleys of Northern Spain.

Yesterday, last year, I was taking my first steps in the dark of the Pyrenees, following the pathetic glow from my headlamp, wondering where my day was going to take me. That first coffee in some little Basque town, and the sunrise over the hills. The first sight of rolling hills and stone pathways, up and down the little valleys on the way to Zubiri.

That first day was such a pleasure -- and a pain (in the shoulders, the back, the hips, the feet, the knees) -- meeting new people who were just as giddy and yet unsure about what the Camino would be like. The excitement was brimming over, and I really had no idea what was in store for me over the next 6 weeks. I remember barely making it to Zubiri that afternoon after an 18km day, my knees and ankle (I'd sprained it a few weeks before my trip, silly me!) were aching from a 3km trek almost straight downhill on the roughest terrain I'd ever walked on. Little did I know that that would be one of the easier days.

I met some of the people that day that I would end up running into over and over again for the rest of my journey, and some of those people even stopped by to say congrats when I finally rolled into Santiago! It was the strangest feeling knowing I'd met them somewhere, but not knowing when or what town. Over the course of 6 weeks walking, you meet a whole lot of people!

That might be the most memorable thing of all -- the constant ebb and flow of strangers/friends you meet in a day. You stop in one town for a coffee and then bump into the same people when they stop for a coffee a few kilometers up the road. The constant "Buen Camino" that sounded like a broken record by day 4 was such a novelty in those first days. So many wonderful people crossed my path along the way, and I feel like I haven't done enough to keep in touch. But the truth is, I am in touch. They are in my memories and I wish them well every time I think of them. I wonder if they do the same.

So much has happened this year, and being home with my family has been a wonderful experience. I try to live day by day, not wanting too much, not taking too much. The biggest lesson I learned on the Camino was the pleasure of living in the moment. Life really comes into perspective when you focus only on your basic needs and the kindness that comes naturally to each of us. When life gets overwhelming, I think it is because I've let my desires take over and my wants have become too big for the world to accommodate, so it throws a wrench in my life. When I stop to reflect on why I'm overwhelmed, I usually find that a simple tweak to my perspective can change the game. I can handle anything when I take the time to reflect on my priorities.

 For the most part, I've chosen to live simply, without much need for flair or extravagance. That is not to say boring. Quite the opposite. I take pleasure in sitting in my backyard watching the birds or just listening to the leaves fluttering above. Even when I have to jump in my car and race around, I can still appreciate the sun on my face when I'm stopped at a red light, or I can take the time to smile at that pedestrian as he crosses the road, because, well, I remember what it was like to carry that heavy backpack and face crazy drivers from the side of the road. You see so much more of the world around you when you take the time to walk through it. The view from behind the wheel of a car or the window of a bus just can't compare to the connection you get from breathing the air and feeling the gravel beneath your feet.

So many things we take for granted in the busy world, but I remember those water fountains that appeared just when I needed a drink, or a bench that would creep up on me just when I thought my feet couldn't handle a single step more. I remember walking 35km on one of my last days before reaching Santiago, and never having wanted a bed so much in my life. I almost cried when the hostel came into sight. Wanting something so desperately after putting in such an effort makes the little things so much more precious and worthwhile.


 Life has a way of presenting us with what we need, we just have to be ready to work hard and be open to the gift when it comes. It helps, I think, to be kind to those around us and put our trust in the universe. Nothing could be simpler than that.

Toques and Mitts.

It always seems such a surprise these days when I find the time to write or just contemplate the day. Lately my world has taken me in a new direction, and just a few months ago I would have scoffed at the idea of moving "home" and starting a life in the city I couldn't wait to leave ten years ago. But the last six months have brought so many changes into my life that settling into a routine again,  surrounded by familiar faces, has been a real pleasure.

I've come back from an epic journey to the middle of a real Canadian winter - the kind that inspired the stories of our parents, those "back in my day, we had to walk twenty-five miles in minus fifty degree weather just to get to school each day" kind of stories. And no jokes, minus twenty has been a treat this week after a January filled with minus thirty or worse conditions. Coming home to that after walking through a Spanish autumn was truly a shock to the system.

My first weeks back were spent in the automotive shops getting my car ready for the harsh world it was now to drive in. A good friend of mine from the temperate coast of BC thought I was joking when I told her I had to plug in my car all winter. She had no idea what I was talking about since she knows I don't own a Hybrid. Then when I told her how much I spent on winter tires, she just about choked! All in all, my car conversion from Victoria summer to Regina winter has cost me almost $2,500 all told! And that doesn't even include all the gas wasted in warming up said car so my butt doesn't stick to a frozen seat and my breath doesn't fog up the windows! I'm surprised anyone can afford to live here in the winter at all!

But we humans are amazingly adaptable. From the first few weeks of my family laughing at my uncontrollable shivering in minus five degree weather to the seasoned prairie girl who wears her coat open and no toque or scarf in minus twenty, you'd never have guessed I'd been a pampered West Coast winter dweller for the last ten years. I can scrape windows with my bare hands! (To clarify for my Victoria pals, I've invested in a window scraper because no credit card would survive the inch-thick frost we get out here! But I do it without mitts.)

Anyway, the point of all this is to say that what I thought would be the hardest part about coming home, namely the deep freeze, has become one of my keenest pleasures about being back. The razor-sharp hoar frost clinging to the top branches, set against the icy blue sky, sun glittering off the ice crystals in the air, all in a 360 degree wedding-dress-white prairie skyline...well, I guess the beauty of this place is in my blood. I never realized till now how much I'd missed it.

Lessons learned

How time flies! It has been one month since I walked into Santiago with my 10 kg pack and my aching feet, heart full of wonder at all the sights and people and places I'd discovered on my way. One month later, I'm still processing the meaning of it all and trying to put into practice all of the lessons and thoughts I had on my journey. I'm 3 days from heading back to Canada, and my mind has started to switch from travel mode back to thoughts of reality, so while I still have a few minutes to contemplate everything Ive done in the last few months, I'm going to take advantage...

The Camino de Santiago took over my mind last Spring, and since then life has become momentous again. Leaving my job and friends and life in Victoria to walk 800km is not something everyone is prepared to do, but I'm not surprised to find there are a lot of people on the Camino that have done just that. There seems to be a real desire out there to escape reality for a while and take time to contemplate life. With the global economy the way it is and high unemployment rates, I wasn't surprised to find a bunch of people without work trying to decide their next step. Some were walking to get some distance from a bad situation, and some were just walking to fill the time before a new job or classes started. Lots of people were retired and walking to fulfil a dream. And there were even some who were walking to fulfil someone else's dream.

It seems to me that the majority of people were walking alone, or as alone as the Camino will let you. There are so many pilgrims that, as the saying goes, you can start the Camino alone but you will never finish it alone. I was surprised at how many couples there were, because I'd started to think of it as an extremely personal journey. For me, it was rare to spend more than a few days walking with any one person, because inevitably your natural pace or distance covered in a day would be different from anyone else's. That being said, I found that I had more confidence to walk longer hours and arrive later to hostels when I was with someone else. When I was alone, I wasn't as likely to push on an extra 5 km because those last 5 were always the most filled with thoughts of the pain in my feet; walking with someone usually meant the conversation was more interesting and distracting.

Even so, I felt like the couples I met were somehow missing out on a more personal experience. By the end of my own journey to Santiago, I admit to being jealous of the couples who were still happily walking together, because I realized that they were having this amazing experience with someone they could later share their memories with. They would have someone who understood the life-changing experience of it all. They would have someone to share their exhultation when they walked into the Cathedral or when they received their compostela. That was certainly on my mind the last few days before  Santiago, and I fully admit that catching up to a few special people who were ahead of me became my motivation for the 30km days I walked before arriving. A lesson learned: it is the people in your life that make the path worth walking.

So with that lesson on my mind, the Camino just confirmed my decision to relocate my life back to Regina, my hometown, to spent the next stage of my camino with those special people already in my life: my family and friends.

The next step

So, after having a couple of rest days in Santiago and having a chance to greet those pilgrims who I'd passed somewhere along the way, my feet were feeling strange. My legs felt restless, and my mind wasn't yt ready to deal with practical matters like bus or train schedules. I was in withdrawl. I'd decided the day I walked into Santiago that if I went to Finisterre, the end of the earh in medieval times, that I would do so by bus. I was SO done with walking.

But, two days later, there I was packing up my backpack (a couple of kilos lighter for sending a package of stuff to my friend Eunate's house near Pamplona, knowing I would bevisiting her again) and setting off to find those comfortingly familiar yellow arrows.

I can't really explain this need to start walking again...but I was feeling completely indecisive about my next step, and yet such a desire to move on, that Ifelt the only logical non-decision was to do what I'd become so accustomed to doing; follow the flechas amarillas (yellow arrows). It really couldn't have been simpler.

And that, I came to realize, is the real reason people choose to walkthe camino. There is nothing in this world simpler than following a well-worn path. There are almost no decisions to be made while walking. The arrows always show you where to go. Whenever you are tired, there is an albergue just around the corner and a bar just next door. The hospitaleros who volunteer there time to keep thealbergues running smoothly are quick to lay out the rules you need to follow. They'll even do your laundry at some of the private ones. Hungry? Have a pilgrim's meal for 10 euros (salad, soup or pasta to start; fish chicken, beef or pork with a side of french fries; finish it off with a desert of icecream, flan or possiblya local treat) and that concludes the extent of you decision-making for the day. Phew, that was tough.

But that is exactly what awaits you at the end of your camino: more decisions than you can deal with inyour weakened mental state. After so much time of just letting your mind go to think whatever thoughts it wants to think, the last thing it is capable of is deciding what comes next. And so, that is how I found myself following the arrows out of Santiago to the end ofthe world...my mind refusedto join the real world again. And so my reluctant feet took charge again.

**Note: Im using a tablet to write these posts, and cant be held responsible for spelling errors. Blogger refuses to let me tap in to the middle of a line to correct anything, and Im assuming the natural intelligence of my readers to figure out my true intentions. Thank you.

Pilgrim's Point of View

One month ago I was in Santo Domingo, writing my blog, with the intention of keeping it up every few days. Almost exactly one month later, here I am in Santiago already, my head full of ruminations about the experience I've just had and trying to decide what my next move is. What happened to my good intentions? Well, after walking 20km a day and spending most of that time thinking, the isn't much desire to sit at a computer (if you can find one) and compose a coherent blogpost. At that point, most pilgrims shower, wash their smelly clothes and try to take a siesta before the shops open at 5pm. Being one of the pilgrims who had chosen to disconnect a bit from technology, I was forced to find pay computers, which are becoming a thing of the past, much like public telephones and phone cards. So, all of this to say, Sorry for not writing in a while.

So where to begin? It feels like I'm in a bit of withdrawl since walking into Santiago on Sunday, November 4th, 5 weeks, 6 days after starting in Roncesvalles 800km ago! It is surreal to be sitting in a hostal (cheap hotel) room all alone rather than in a busy albergue (special pilgrim hostal in full dorm room bunk bed stylings). Another change is that I've finally reached my limit of pay computers, so I splurged and bought myself a Samsung Galaxy II tablet! Holy smokes! I've come back into the real world already! This of course is just so I can keep up my blog in a more timely fashion (yeah right). I was pretty envious of all those smartphone users on the trail who could check email and get directions without carrying a heavy guidebook! Oh how the pilgrim has changed over time.

And that might be a good segue into the topic of types of pilgrims one encounters on the trail. There are pilgrims, and then there are tourists. To me, the real pilgrims are the people who come to the trail with some sort of question they are trying to find the answer to. They are drawn to the camino because it represents the opportunity for change in their daily life and a chance to get back to a more natural rhythm, to reconnect with themselves. There are as many reasons for walking the camino as their are pilgrims, such as spirituality,  illness, a convenient holiday, but I believe that the frame of mind is what separates the pilgrim from the tourist.

At the beginning, in Saint Jean for many, or Roncesvalles for others (although I did meet many on the trail who had started way before that and had already been walking for a month or so!), we were all trying to figure out what the camino was all about, to find our rhythm in the mass of walkers and bikers, still learning that we had left the race behind and we just needed to settle in. But I believe that most of us started at that point with the idea of walking for a month and reaching Santiago. That, to me, shows a commitment to the trail and an intention to submit oneself to whatever the camino puts in the path. Not that any of us were aware of that then.

After a week or two of really finding my rhythm and feeling like part of the camino community, I started meeting people who were just joining the trail in Logrono and then Burgos. That was my first time realizing that people do this for holiday too. It hadn't crossed my mind that someone would want to just walk for a week or two, but not everyone wants to quit their job to fly halfway around the world to find themself. Fair enough. But their backpacks were so small, and they didn't have walking poles, and they carried enormous cameras. They joined the trail with such levity that it brought out my inner grump (more chocolate, please). And, hey, I have respect for those people who get the idea of the camino and choose to spend a couple of weeks finding their inner rhythm again, but at the two week point, I was in no mood to hear people complain of their first blister as though it was ruining their trip. I didn't appreciate watching them gallop ahead without a trace of tendomitis from the two weeks of constant wear on you feet. But hey, we each have our own path to walk. At least they were walking.

But the "pilgrims" who really got me were the groups who had all the gear for backcountry camping, who at the end of a 5km walk would get on their fancy coachline and cruise to their 5 star hotel at the end of the day, and who got picked up at lunch to go to a nice restaurant in the next town. All I can say about them was at least they weren't staying at the albergues and stealing my hard-earned spot. They even made the pilgrims who transferred their backpacks to their next destination look like hardcore warriors.

In the last days of the pilgrimage, a whole new set of tourists show up. They are the weekend walkers who want to get the fun credential full of stamps, proof that they were a pilgrim. They show up in the last 100km (because that is what the pilgrim office requires to earn the compostela certificate in Santiago) and race to evert cafe and bar to get the sello (a unique stamp in every place) even though they rarely bought anything to earn it.

Anyway, with a true pilgrim heart, all can be forgiven, or at least forgotten. Whatevrr the reason for walking, the camino is an opportunity to think about things in a new way. The trick, I think, is to carry the lessons forward and not get too caught up in the everyday worldin which we constantly find ourselves.

Buen Camino

Santo Domingo de la Calzada, you came into view just when my feet were about to give up, even though I´d only walked 15km this morning. I´ve found that there are only a few things that the pilgrim has control over on the Camino: footwear, how much they carry, and how far they walk in a day.

I´ve discovered that my hikers are in the mid range - they are light and breathable, but they have very flexible soles and no ankle support, making every rock and stone an obstacle in my path. Thank goodness for my walking poles (a definite asset)! In terms of how much I´m carrying, well, I´m on the heavy side for my body weight. I´m hauling around 10kg in a 55L bag. This is by no means unusual - I´ve even heard there are a couple of people carrying twice that - but I certainly am jealous when those few carrying 40L bags walk by without a care in the world! Although some of those are cheaters, and they´ve sent their real bag ahead to the next albergue! I prefer to know that I can carry my whole life on my back; when my life gets too heavy, I´ll lighten my load accordingly.



As for how far to walk in a day? I would say the footwear and pack weight should be the determining factors (not to mention the number of blisters!). I´ve met people who walk 30 to 40km each day. They must absolutely be flying. I mean, it is perfectly possible to walk that each day, by getting up early or walking later into the afternoon, but it´s dark until almost 8:00am, and it´s hot by 1:00pm. To each his own, certainly. But having said that, I find my best walking hours are between 7:00am and noon. I´ve had a few days starting out in the dark with my headlamp, nothing but the moon for company. The sunrises and solitude are worth the frosty air! I usually walk about 10km before I stop for a rest (except to take layers off or take a sip of water), but my feet are definitely sore already. By kilometre 15, my feet are protesting. I imagine I could walk more if my pack was 3kg lighter...

The farthest I´ve walked in a day has been 23km, and that was the very first day. I´ve had a few other days at 22km, and those were long, but I was so sore after I could hardly walk downstairs for a beer (now that is saying something! haha). I average about 18km a day, depending on where the towns are or if I´ve heard of a good hostel. There was one day I walked only 7km, and I must admit, it was a needed break after 4 days in a row of 20km+. It´s also tempting to try to keep up with friends you´ve met along the way, but I´ve quickly discovered that I feel better at the end of the day if I walk at my own pace rather than being swept up by someone else´s, either faster or slower. There is always a good chance that you will see them later anyway, either at the next cafe sipping cafe con leche or at the hostel at the end of the day. I´ve even met up with a couple of people a few days later when they chose to walk a short day and I walked a long one.

That is one of the most interesting things about the Camino; you start out alone in the morning and stop for a break in a few kilometres, and lo and behold, there are all of your fellow pilgrims just a few kms behind you, ready to greet you again and again with the oh-so-common "Buen Camino". It is a great thing to say if you don´t speak each other´s language. Sometimes it is the only thing you know they´ll understand! But let´s change it up a bit. How about "Happy trails" or "See you soon" or "Don´t walk your socks off"? A lovely Israeli guy I´ve met over and over again uses "Happy thoughts", which I like very much, since it has nothing to do with my sore feet, but everything to do with the reason I´m walking in the first place.

Happy thoughts, everyone.

Oh, my aching clavicle!

Hello to all! Day 4 of the Camino! I´m in Puenta la Reina, my first real stop to use the internet and send out a couple of postcards. Legs and feet and shoulders have all adjusted to the weight of my pack and the pain of the first few days has gone away with a good night of drinking wine with new friends!! Everything is great! I´m loving the lifestyle and haven´t been this happy in a long time!! The pace of the Camino is a curious thing to get used to. The first day or two was almost like a race. Everyone speeding past, trying to get to the next Albergue (hostal) before the whole pack, but by the third day, the pack has thinned out and we are all on our own pace. The first couple of days, everyone commiserated about the pains in our knees, toes, blisters, legs, shoulders, etc. Now that I´m on day 4, those issues have melted away and I´m focussing more on my thoughts, the landscape, my morning coffee and the present. The present, both in terms of time and in terms of the gift that is this period of my life. Everyday brings new and interesting people into my life, new landscapes and new adventures. It is an amazing experience. Puenta la Reina is the meeting point of two different trails of the Camino, and so the path becomes a little more crowded again, but it also brings more ideas and ways of life into contact with my own. Magnificent.