gerardcarey
Veteran Member
- Time of past OR future Camino
- CFx2, CPx1
I’m all rigged up and ready to walk.
I’m outside the albergue and it’s another fine dark chilly morning.
The stars are out in a dark blue heaven.
A crescent moon hangs low, behind me, away in the eastern sky.
I set off. Bugger. Forgot to get the headlamp out of the pack.
There’s a group of five or six pilgrims up ahead striding purposefully thru the village.
In the dark their headlamp beams swing back and forth across the road, lighting up trees and bushes, flashing across fences and buildings.
They’re looking for yellows arrows.
I’m too lazy to get my headlamp out. I’ll just follow them.
I wander aimlessly along in their wake as the sun slowly rises on a beautiful morning.
Early morning is a great time to be walking.
It’s a great time to be alone, with just your thoughts.
A reflective time.
The headlamps get turned off as the wheat and corn fields turn slowly from stalkily indistinct, to a light beige, then to that golden hue that they will wear thru the day.
Been walking for a couple of hours now, time for 2nd breakfast, a café con leche and a little tucker.
I hear a vehicle approaching from behind. A van pulls in ahead of the walking group. They all clamber in and off they go leaving me all alone in the countryside.
They were not proper pilgrims! Just folks out for a nice stroll!
Where am I?
I walk on to the next village and into a rustic little café.
The café con lechalero produces my brekky, then, after peering at my Brierley, shows me where I should turn right to take me back to the Camino.
I’m about 6ks out to the left.
20 minutes later I’m on a quiet country lane when a car pulls up alongside. It’s my café con lechalero and he’s holding my hat and sunglasses out the car window.
How kind is that.
Very muchos gracias senor.
His gentle kindness has my eyes tearing up as he returns forever to his life, and, I grieve, forever out of mine.
I'm along the road a way when I hear a noise over the wire fence, out to my left, in a grove of trees. Two deer explode out of the foliage straight for me. They easily clear the fence and split to pass me, one each side. A clattery skip and they are across the road.
Another bound clears that fence.
They move, with that wonderfully graceful high stepping movement deer have, through the field towards a forest in the distance.
Not as bad as cyclists but made my heart pound there for a second.
A little further on and here’s a little bridge. I rest and cool my feet in the clear water. Little fish appear and I waggle my feet, encouraging them to nibble my toes....like the fish in the glass tanks were doing in that funny ‘fix your feet’ shop in the Bilbao railway station.
My fish have more important things to attend to.
I see the sparse thin line of pilgrims in the long distance.
As I turn left onto the Camino again, here, he's paused to wait for me, is Paul, from Oregon. He was in the bunk above last night, still snuffly snoring when I left this morning.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“Well Paul," I say expansively, "today I decided to take the road less travelled. I thought to seek out new experiences, to go off piste."
He gazes at me silently for a few seconds, then nods.
“Right,” he says, “got lost did you?”
Can't fool any of the people any of the time can I.
Regards
Gerard
I’m outside the albergue and it’s another fine dark chilly morning.
The stars are out in a dark blue heaven.
A crescent moon hangs low, behind me, away in the eastern sky.
I set off. Bugger. Forgot to get the headlamp out of the pack.
There’s a group of five or six pilgrims up ahead striding purposefully thru the village.
In the dark their headlamp beams swing back and forth across the road, lighting up trees and bushes, flashing across fences and buildings.
They’re looking for yellows arrows.
I’m too lazy to get my headlamp out. I’ll just follow them.
I wander aimlessly along in their wake as the sun slowly rises on a beautiful morning.
Early morning is a great time to be walking.
It’s a great time to be alone, with just your thoughts.
A reflective time.
The headlamps get turned off as the wheat and corn fields turn slowly from stalkily indistinct, to a light beige, then to that golden hue that they will wear thru the day.
Been walking for a couple of hours now, time for 2nd breakfast, a café con leche and a little tucker.
I hear a vehicle approaching from behind. A van pulls in ahead of the walking group. They all clamber in and off they go leaving me all alone in the countryside.
They were not proper pilgrims! Just folks out for a nice stroll!
Where am I?
I walk on to the next village and into a rustic little café.
The café con lechalero produces my brekky, then, after peering at my Brierley, shows me where I should turn right to take me back to the Camino.
I’m about 6ks out to the left.
20 minutes later I’m on a quiet country lane when a car pulls up alongside. It’s my café con lechalero and he’s holding my hat and sunglasses out the car window.
How kind is that.
Very muchos gracias senor.
His gentle kindness has my eyes tearing up as he returns forever to his life, and, I grieve, forever out of mine.
I'm along the road a way when I hear a noise over the wire fence, out to my left, in a grove of trees. Two deer explode out of the foliage straight for me. They easily clear the fence and split to pass me, one each side. A clattery skip and they are across the road.
Another bound clears that fence.
They move, with that wonderfully graceful high stepping movement deer have, through the field towards a forest in the distance.
Not as bad as cyclists but made my heart pound there for a second.
A little further on and here’s a little bridge. I rest and cool my feet in the clear water. Little fish appear and I waggle my feet, encouraging them to nibble my toes....like the fish in the glass tanks were doing in that funny ‘fix your feet’ shop in the Bilbao railway station.
My fish have more important things to attend to.
I see the sparse thin line of pilgrims in the long distance.
As I turn left onto the Camino again, here, he's paused to wait for me, is Paul, from Oregon. He was in the bunk above last night, still snuffly snoring when I left this morning.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“Well Paul," I say expansively, "today I decided to take the road less travelled. I thought to seek out new experiences, to go off piste."
He gazes at me silently for a few seconds, then nods.
“Right,” he says, “got lost did you?”
Can't fool any of the people any of the time can I.
Regards
Gerard
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