Those were the days

[capecorps]

Hi,

Fellow adventurers, intrepid travelers and good Roman Catholics.

If you happened to be near the main road from France to San Sebastian in March of 1969 you may have seen an individual strolling into town. Bathed in hope and that bright Spanish sunshine, he is young, confident, happy, carefree and in perfect physical condition with nary a penny to his name. He is fresh from the Summer of Love: the Funny Farm, a commune in Erbsville, Ontario and good times in Yorkville, Toronto. His world is a banquet awaiting his pleasure. There is a light in his eye anticipating a year in Spain with wine, women and song on his mind, peace and love in his heart, a flower in his hair, and a spring in his step. The unknown is rich with promise of earthly delights and a glimpse of the Eternal in those incredible star studded Castilian skies and in the as yet unmet, beloveds’ eyes.

If you happen to be at the SJPP train station in March of the year of our Lord, 2012, you may observe, a weary, hollow eyed, anxiety ridden and more than likely, severely hung over individual getting off the train in the dark of the night. He is old, wavering and in poor physical condition, albeit with modest means. His world, duty done: three happy and successful children raised, 30 year plus sentence with Salt Mines Inc duly served and a shaky marriage survived. His eyes are dimmed, anticipating a walk into the unknown with unease, rejection and trepidation on his mind, dread and conflict in his heart, grey hair on his head and a halt in his tread. The unknown path is strewn with danger, dark threatening skies overhead and inexorable loneliness within.

Never could resist a bit of poetic licence.

But seriously, I think I was much older, far wiser and certainly a lot happier when I was a long haired hippy forty years ago than I am now. It’s odd but, through the long hard years of my conventional business career, that mindset dimmed, but was never completely extinguished.

Probably lying dormant to be brought back to life by the rains on the plains of Spain.

Hope to see you then,

Derek

 

[MichaelB10398]

Peace to you Derek and may you find your Camino the love of the Savior most cherished and true. We age to humble ourselves and to learn the value of our bodies. I hope that with each step you burn your brightest with the fascination of life; that you grasp each day as if it is your last and squeeze every bit of joy out of it. Know that to serve others you are only serving God. Within each person you meet may you find the face of Jesus. Be know broken by the trials of life, but wise from the choices you have made. The young are buoyed by the wisdom of the old. When sought or when appropriate share yourself with those around you. Remember to pass on all that has been given to you.

God bless you with the choicest of Caminos. Let us know what happens as you tread the Way of thousands of pilgrims past.

 

[Deleted member 3000]

On the practical side and as a fellow survivor of the Summer of Love, one of the toughest tasks facing you will be letting go each day. From the first step you will meet fascinating people who you want know better.

Don't.

You will have to match their pace, and it may be too much for your age and physical condition. You will meet more such people every day, and as your pace improves over the first two weeks, you will be in a group that moves at your speed. You are likely to catch some of the early folks who have collapsed from a pace beyond their ability.

If 12km is your limit at the start, don't walk 20. You will regret it!

 

[Nandy61]

Love that poetic license!! Keep it comin'!

 

[Arn]

Derek...welcome to the Forum and the Class of 2011!

As so often, Falcon has the right of it...let every day be a new day, with new friends buffered with past memories...at our age...those are memories in the past 24 to 48 hours.

That said, on my first day I walked with a fantastic Frenchman who cautioned me to walk...slowly.

At my first pilgrim supper at Orisson...I met a lovely Swiss Miss that increased my pace and my heart beat. By Estrella we were both injured...she with a knee malady and me with a bruised heart and a bad knee.

See...there's so much more to the Camino and all it holds in store.

Buen Camino

Arn

 

[nellpilgrim]

Hola Derek,
" of happiness the crown and chiefest part is wisdom, and to hold the gods in awe. This is the truth that, seeing the stricken heart of pride brought down, we learn when we are old” ...
Though the years may have humbled our youthful braggadocio Derek hopefully one gains just a little wisdom in return :?
Welcome and congratulations on escaping the Salt mine!
Nell

 

[skilsaw]

Derek, you have just busted my perception of tax auditors as boring and unimaginative.

March can be quite cold and wet on the Camino. For the "Boots or Shoes" debate, I would choose boots for March.. Start walking with your boots soon, and find the right choice of socks to keep your feet blister free. Later you can walk with your rucksack and get accustomed to that.

Buen Camino,
David, Victoria, Canada

 

[methodist.pilgrim.98]

David, I agree about anyone connected to taxes; you do not expect to meet a poetic soul.

Derek, there is an outside possibility I might be in SJPP in March.

Boots.

But buy walking sandals as they are kinder to the feet and there will be days when you can wear them instead. The weight of boots on your back is a pain, but I find that better than the weight of boots on my feet. But wouldn't walk in March without my Brashers.

Always walk the Camino at your own pace. It doesn't matter of little old grannies with a zimmer frame rocket past you; go to the comfort of your own body.

Derek, welcome to the world of the Holy Fool.

 

[+@^^]

Derek
.
as my recently crossed over mum used to say to me
"now get off your fat ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself
youre the only one that can put the sparkle back in your eye
and the spring in your step"
.
so there

 

[capecorps]

Jou ma is reg.

As mothers always are.

 

[Debinq]

Altho' not a good RC'lick Derek (not even a lapsed one!) I'll respond anyway...

My Ma's saying -a variation on the Tim/tamplin's theme- was about making the bed you sleep in, 'if you don't like it sonny-jim, make another one, you're the only one who can' (sij had het aan het regte end! Ziezo!)

Moving along, so yes, you deserve congratulations for making it out of the salt mines with apparently some semblance of a poet's take on the world in tact! Thankfully i was warned off that path -yep, during that long summer of love- away from a career that would have seen me "adding up someone else's figures" (thanx Lynette for that insightful way of putting it, wherever you are!) So I changed subject area (finance and accounting to History!) and when in Spain on my 'camino' (Yipes ... 5 years ago now, almost to the week) I found out that in Spanish my metier is called being an "historiador" ... how good is that? I never wore a tie for professional purposes, not once!

Anyway, hope you have an exceptional, 'buen camiono' ... in March 2012 I will be starting again, this time from Granada (hope to get as far as Merida on ther VdlP in approx 21 days)

and happy trails too

Peter

 

[mmm042]

Haven't been following this thread, but saw the "Now get off your fat ass" saying and love it! Kudos to your mom. I'll remember that one for sure and start passing it off to my own kids!

Melanie

 

[+@^^]

Derek -
? hoe is dit dat jy Afrikaans praat en sulke mooi engels skry
en dat jy innie summer of love groot geword het
my brein is ge-frazzel deur all die excesses van 60s free lovin
ek kan skaars uitwerk of dit vrydag of woensdag is
in elk geval - beste
ek sou wou saam met jou die camino geloop het
Tam

 

[Arn]

Tam,
So you think a 60's type can verstand Afrikaans?
Tot Siens,
Arn

 

[capecorps]

Tam,
Sorry for the delayed response, but I was hoping that my Afrikaans, like riding a bicycle, would come back to me. South Africans are few and far between in Canada. As a result, I’ve lost it because I’ve had no one to speak it to. This is an omission I hope to remedy because I note there are South Africans on the Camino.

Ek was geboord in Kaapstad, maar grew up for the most part in Canada. I know that our paths will cross and I look forward to it.

Derek

 

[jennysa]

Tam,
Sorry for the delayed response, but I was hoping that my Afrikaans, like riding a bicycle, would come back to me. South Africans are few and far between in Canada. As a result, I’ve lost it because I’ve had no one to speak it to. This is an omission I hope to remedy because I note there are South Africans on the Camino.

Ek was geboord in Kaapstad, maar grew up for the most part in Canada. I know that our paths will cross and I look forward to it.

Derek

Derek - I could not let this one go - I am sure you will be amazed at how many South Africans are doing the Camino now. You will definitely get a chance to polish up your Afrikaans. I walked in May and met many of my fellow South Africans, and what is more, saw the South Flag draped around the Cross at Cruz de Ferrs. I am sure the increase in the number of South African pilgrims can be attributed to a large extent by the inspiration of our most esteemed veteran, Sylvia (Sillydoll), who has encouraged and mentored so many of us. We are all so proud of the fact that her book that she has just published 'Your Camino - on foot, bicycle and horseback in France and Spain ' sits 48,638 in Amazon's best sellers ranking and appears to be number 1 in the Speciality Travel/Ecotourism category!

 

[capecorps]

Many thanks for your kind response to my musings ranging as they do from the Sacred through mental and physical well being to practical, essential matters such as boots and socks. It has motivated me to prepare for the Camino.

In regard to mental well being, we all want to be happy. And I note from your response that it really does not take a lot. Certainly not fame, fortune and all the other false gods who sidle up to us seeking to beguile us with empty promises. All it takes is to take it easy. Relax. None of it really matters. We are all on this hand full of stardust together and not one of us ... is getting off alive. Nothing to worry about. Feed the mind a steady diet of good fellowship, good cheer, good deeds, a “hail fellow well met” attitude, extreme tolerance for others; spice it up with the occasional good time and leaven it with a bit of suffering for others, …. so, in this company, no need to send to ask for whom that bell tolls.

I was also inspired to improve my physical condition. While mental well being requires nothing more than the capacity to do nothing, have lots of good buddies and to be here now, physical well being can be approached with military precision and detachment.

The first order of business was to schedule a full physical with all the trimmings. To my surprise, the physician gave the lad a clean bill of health. Although I queried him closely on this, given the lad’s inordinate fondness for tobacco, strong drink, fat, sugar, and generally dissolute lifestyle, he was adamant, adding that I was a lucky man. Well, the golden mean: moderation in all things, including moderation. Which means you’re allowed the occasional excess. And that, in the lad’s case may be the rub. Ever weak, he promptly lit a cigar, raised a Scotch, and drank to happy days, reasoning that if a solid six decades of indulgence did no harm, the next six should be a piece of cake.

Next on the agenda was: a healthy Diet. A quick search of the internet advised feeding the lad low fat, high carb, high fat, low carb, low GI, high protein and other dubious delights. And eh, don’t forget his forget his supplements. After this nutritional merry go round, the conventional wisdom today ala Pollan is to eat food as close to its natural state as possible. Ye gods - shades of “Diet for a Small Planet” - hie thee back to the commune, lad for a hearty bowl of brown rice, beans, home grown veg. and good cheer.

Next was the Dread Exercise: Walk along the Boardwalk: sluggish blood slowly flowing, limbs stiffly moving, assorted aches and pains, contemplative smoke halfway, beautiful lake, spectacular sky, fresh air, moving better - not too bad….

Two hours march a day, Soldier! Full field pack, double time! And get rid of that sissy idealistic hippy BS and start pumping some iron, fer chrissake!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlS9XUGbBlg

In regard to the Sacred, I was never particularly religious. But, I was baptized a Roman Catholic. And strangely, now that I see the Church beset from all sides, her cathedrals deserted, her clergy aging and her precepts ignored, I find my faith growing in direct proportion to the calumny heaped upon her. Probably time for the four strong winds to sweep through her empty pews bringing her children home. I was motivated to attend mass at my parish church. The church was practically empty.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjfTDPhMdTk

Thinking of her legions of lapsed Catholics (including myself), I drank a bottle of wine and wrote:

She Waits

She waits at the church gates
longing for her lost babes
Hers the hand that anointed
their infant brow with holy waters
their youth with chrism oils
Hers the heart that loves them
and forgives them all their sins
Where are they now
Gone, all gone
Leaves blown in the four strong winds

Her bells call unheeded
All over the land
the demons cavort
and gleefully gloat
They all ours now
two thousand years it took us
and you never getting them back

The long years come and go
the cold bitter snows of Winter
follow the hot burning suns of Summer
Her walls crumble and fall
Saints and martyrs lie in the dust
amidst the stained glass and faded vestments
The Holy Cross hangs by a thread

She waits at the church gates
Forsaken forgotten
Her tears fall in the snow
Her Sacred Heart breaking
She gazes down the long lonely overgrown path

But no one comes…….


And so, my friends, from a far distant land across the high seas I awaken to her faint call, and to my surprise, I take up my staff and bend my first faltering steps back home to her on that long, lonely, overgrown path.

Had a look at some of those Camino videos. Truly inspirational, the sirens call. I am sorely tempted to cast caution to the winds, leave on a jet plane and start walking with never a thought for my yesterdays or even my tomorrows.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLBKOcUbHR0

And it is doable. But on balance, March is probably a better bet: walking into the brightening skies of Summer rather than the darkening skies of Winter.

But boy, I want it now and am I ever tempted.

Derek

 

[Una]

: Wonderful post! Buen Camino as the days lengthen next spring! Una

 

[newfydog]

Hi,
If you happened to be near the main road from France to San Sebastian in March of 1969 you may have seen an individual strolling into town.

Derek

I may have, but as they say, "if you remember the 60's you weren't really there."

 

[sillydoll]

In the 60's I was a very different person to the one I am now.
Not so brave,
not so adventurous,
not so fit,
not so daring,
and if you had told me then that I would walk many thousands of kms in my old age, with a backpack on my back in 5 different countries (not counting my own) I would have though you were smoking something!!
Viva to my golden years!!

 

[Deleted member 3000]

"if you remember the 60's you weren't really there."

or, "There are none so blind as those who cannot see."

 

[capecorps]

Thanks Una. We had our first snowfall here in Toronto yesterday and I am already longing for the lengthening days of Spring.

The freezing days of Winter would be academic for you, Sillydoll. I had gathered from Jennysa’s reply above that you were a fellow South African and therefore going into the hot sun of summer. I’m sure that you were always as brave, adventurous, fit and daring as you are today and I hasten to assure you that I am merely enjoying a cigarette with my wine. I also am in my golden years (sixty today): years more precious than diamonds, because in short supply.

Newfydog and Falcon. Please bear with me. I’ve never been smart enough to understand the cryptic one liner quote. Would you enlighten me?

 

[capecorps]

The fire burns brightly in the grate, the tobacco is mellow and the coffee, hot and strong. Just the ticket after a two hour hike through a winter wonderland. Snow as white as…..snow, ice crystals sparkling in the bright sunshine, the sky a deep azure blue, waves crashing on the frozen shore.

It doesn’t get better than this….. And to think I would have missed this study in contrasts had I not been in deep training for the Camino. No warmth without cold, lad.

Back on the road again to Yasger’s farm, Woodstock, Santiago…..the Garden. Staggering on the brink of my “golden years’’, I reflect that maybe, this time around, after a forty year detour, I just might find that hidden gem of ambrosial delights:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sH0uR2u7Hs

Training progressing well as I grow physically stronger with each passing day.

Went for a four hour hike in the woods with a local hiking club. As is their custom, they adjourned to an English style pub for potations, while I lingered behind for a much needed smoke. As I joined the assembled company the aging beauty cozying up to me recoiled in horror: “He’s a smoker!!! I can smell it on his clothes.” Twenty pairs of eyes swivelled as one, aghast, as I mumbled something about it not being agent orange all the while quaffing my beer with the practiced ease and evident enjoyment of the habitual drinker. And I saw in my mind‘s eye a time when individuals in long raincoats masking incipient corpulence, furtively slither down long dark alleys to houses of ill repute under pain of imprisonment, to tuck into chorizo, spareribs and Viennese pastries far from the watchful eyes of the dread Health Police.

A smoker is a pariah. And no one likes being an outcast. And I did read in one of the posts that the Camino could reset long established habits. I can kinda see how when you down to basics like food and shelter, you can alter ephemerals like quitting smoking. On the other hand, I don’t see smoking listed in the Ten Commandants, or even in the deadly sins. Nor is it, I would boldly posit, a venial sin. Somehow, I can’t see St Peter pointing to a no smoking sign as I hike up to the pearly gates after my relatively blameless life.

Perhaps we are too wedded to this mortal coil. Spain had the right of it when I was there seven years ago. As I exited Customs, everyone in the airport was smoking. On the road to Madrid, I noted motorcycle riders without helmets, construction crews without safety equipment and big holes in the ground without guardrails. Stopping for lunch, I noticed everyone including grandmotherly types, swilling wine and eating sweets and fatty foods as if there was no tomorrow. Be here now. Unlike Pamplona, the only bulls I see charging down Bay street, Toronto are the stock market boys riding a rising market.

Took the advice of my drill sergeant and started pumping iron. Body responding well. Rather enjoy the camaraderie of the weight room and particularly the social club upstairs where for the price of a pint (or five) of Guinness, you can soar to the heights of your imagination to the suspended belief of your fellows all to the accompaniment of hearty laughter and good cheer. The pub: a much maligned and misunderstood institution. Our minds crave convivial social interaction as much as our bodies need food.

On the spiritual side, I have not strayed too far from the tree. Roman Catholicism kept me safe in the dark as a child and I see no reason to change. Sure, my reason can poke a ton of holes in its scripture and practices. What the heck. Our reason has taken us from caves deep in the ground to luxury condos high in the sky, but it has always failed us in the end. Once the surgeon has given up, the priest is sent for to administer Extreme Unction. Aristotle, Newton and Einstein have all been superseded while Matthew, Luke, Mark and John have soldiered on for two thousand years unchanged. Be this as it may, I derive great comfort as I sit in my empty parish church surrounded by the sights, sounds and liturgy of my Church.

The fire is burning low. Time for another log….. And maybe I’ll have a glass of port.

 

[Deleted member 3000]

Most of Spain is now non-smoking. Bars seem to have a choice. Restaurants do not. Albergues are non-smoking. In dry years, most of the fires are from smokers, so it is discouraged along the trail.

Tobacco did not make it into religious writings because it was a New World crop brought back around 1492. God was not speaking to indigenous peoples at that time through the various scriptures, so Moses omitted it from the tablets. The New World didn't get the wheel, either, though if the Mormons are correct and the American Indian is a lost Jew, one would wonder why.

I am one of those who will yield to smokers, and let them move downwind. I just don't see the point of inhaling their smoke.

 

[David]

You'll be fine - though you might get your poetic licence endorsed with a few points ..


How can you explain that you need to know that the trees are still there, and the hills and the sky? Anyone knows they are. How can you say it is time your pulse responded to another rhythm, the rhythm of the day and the season instead of the hour and the minute? No, you cannot explain. So you walk. ~Author unknown, from New York Times editorial, "The Walk," 25 October 1967

"The moon & sun are eternal travellers. Even the years wander on.
A lifetime adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years, every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
From the earliest times there have always been some who have perished along the road. Still I have always been drawn by windblown clouds into dreams of a lifetime of wandering."
Matsuo Basho (1644-94) Zen Abbot

:wink:

 

[Rebekah Scott]

These are the days.
This is the place. We are the people.

There are good places for people like you to stop along the Frances. South African camino-head Gordon Bell has a little place right before Puertomarin called Casa Banderas. You will see the SA flag outside the gates. Be sure to stop in there if you pass by in the busy season... I think he may have his albergue license by now!

And stop in at Peaceable Kingdom, in tiny Moratinos, just after Terradillos de Templarios. We are not South African, but we (think we) can speak Afrikaans after a couple of tintos. Camino Forum members get a special welcome.

Reb.

 

[fraluchi]

...It doesn’t get better than this….. And to think I would have missed this study in contrasts had I not been in deep training for the Camino.
...No warmth without cold, lad.
...Our minds crave convivial social interaction as much as our bodies need food.....
...On the spiritual side, I have not strayed too far from the tree. Roman Catholicism kept me safe in the dark as a child and I see no reason to change.

There is a saying "a Dios rogando y con el mazo dando".
Put your timely worries and considerations in a drawer, lock it and throw the key away.
Give yourself a fresh "Camino" (the Camino Francés in Spain is recommended). "Play it by ear" (a preferred expression of AnnaKappa)
Ultreya!