Remembering

[Dancing Rain]

A year ago today we started our Camino. It had been calling me for over twenty-five years and now we were in SJPP. At the last minute I'd left all sorts of things on our hotel bed that I decided I didn't need after all. Unexpectedly, my dearly beloved had decided to come too. He found climbing up toward Orisson very challenging with the 16kg pack he insisted on bringing. I realised as his lips turned blue and walking that 8 km took over four hours, that this was going to be a very different camino to the one I had imagined.

We stumbled into the bar at Orisson, and started the connecting with others that I had hoped for. What a relief we had a bed for the night at Kayola, even though we had to backtrack 1 km. Having had our dinner we were the last ones to stake a claim to beds. Top bunks of course, which creaked with every turn, and created an earthquake every time nature called. With hindsight I think that's where I got my first bedbug bites, but I had a lot to learn about them ahead. Then my beloved starting snoring loudly in this room full of strangers!

 

[james walter purdum iv]

A year ago today we started our Camino. It had been calling me for over twenty-five years and now we were in SJPP. At the last minute I'd left all sorts of things on our hotel bed that I decided I didn't need after all. Unexpectedly, my dearly beloved had decided to come too. He found climbing up toward Orisson very challenging with the 16kg pack he insisted on bringing. I realised as his lips turned blue and walking that 8 km took over four hours, that this was going to be a very different camino to the one I had imagined. We stumbled into the bar at Orisson, and started the connecting with others that I had hoped for. What a relief we had a bed for the night at Kayla, even though we had to backtrack 1 km. Having had our dinner we were the last ones to stake a claim to beds. Top bunks of course, which creaked with every turn, and created an earthquake every time nature called. With hindsight I think that's where I got my first bedbug bites, but I had a lot to learn about them ahead. Then my beloved starting snoring loudly in this room full of strangers!

i started out last year on the 1st after all the hail wind and rain i arrived with on the 31st...i stayed at orrisson and thought as i walked up that holy god what have i got myself into...but after a meal and good company and an early bed. i trekked on to one of the greatest experiences in my life

 

[Dancing Rain]

Our walk from Kayla (Orrisson) to Roncesvalle was one of mist and mystery. We felt immersed in history and blessed to have this opportunity.

We were clear that we were going to take the slow & gradual route down to Roncesvalle. The pilgrims office in SJPP had strongly recommended this, and given us a page with photos and instructions, so I was examining the trees that we passed, watching for the spot we would divert. I thought we'd found it, but was still unsure as the arrows very clearly pointed the other way. Out of the mist appeared a beret wearing Basque gentleman. With gestures & garbled French/Spanish our angel guided us on our way.

Gradually the sun appeared through the mist and we saw buildings in a valley. What I hadn't expected to see were ruined defensive fortifications in the ground as we made our way down. And then we found ripe blackberries! Well, my dearly beloved was in seventh heaven.

Wearily we arrived at the back of the massive buildings of Roncesvalle, not sure where to go, but sure this was where pilgrims stayed with all the washing on the lines. We entered a backdoor, and looked around somewhat helplessly and completely exhausted. It was warm, it was light, and people understood us without us saying anything.

We were guided through the enrolment process and sent on our way to temporary cabins. A hospitelero said to me there are three things to do when you arrive somewhere - find somewhere to sleep, and .... I wish I'd paid attention, I don't remember what the other two were. However, we had our bed!!

I walked around, found where to eat, and felt mesmerised and humbled to be here. It was also so cold! - I needed every layer of clothing that I had questioned whether I should include. Thus, snuggled up inside my layers, I participated in my first pilgrims mass, held up by a pillar every time we stood, with legs that could barely manage to keep me upright. So many people together in this place. Finally I was here after all the years of dreaming.

 

[Dancing Rain]

On the 4th of Sept last year we took care of ourselves and walked just a short distance, 6.7 km, from Roncesvalle to Espinal. We started early, the light was golden, and I came to understand that at that time of day lots of trees together do look like the "dark woods".

Arriving at the town of Burguete I was delighted with the conveniences at a local cafe on a corner, which were majestic in size for someone with a backpack. Feeling very grateful for this luxury I left 2 euros on the counter.

We were very used to having lots of people pass us, so it was quite a surprise and almost disconcerting when we realised that P. from the USA, who was over 70, intended to stick with us. She'd walked over from SJPP the day before, clearly fit from all her tennis practice. However, she was finding life challenging because her bankcard wasn't working, she'd run out of cash, and she couldn't figure out how to use the new mobile phone she'd been given by her family. From what we understood she hadn't eaten for a while as a result, and she was feeling quite muddled and confused.

Arriving at Espinal my beloved saw a sign pointing to a casa rural - Gertxada Basajaun. We decided to explore, taking P with us. We found the house and knocked on the door, A young woman answered who said her mother would be back soon. The daughter interpreted, and her mother & I connected with google translate. She took us all to a bank in her car, where P eventually realised that she had been exceeding her daily limit and so her withdrawals had been declined. We found a way to call her family from my phone and things were falling into place for her.

It was a Friday, and we were thinking a rest day was in order, so in consultation with the owner we made plans to stay on for the Sabbath. The aches in our legs breathed a sigh of relief. What developed from there was a wonderful interlude, where we were fed wonderful vegetarian food, with leaves, mushrooms & berries that had been collected locally. Our garbled language conversations ranged from the local wild life to Basque politics. Precious connections.

 

[Dancing Rain]

On our fourth day of the Camino we took a rest day in Espinal, while P moved on. We had connected, and I assumed we would meet again, but we didn't. I hope she went OK. This was a lesson I was learning, to make the most of the connection in the present, and not make assumptions about what was ahead. From then I became better at finding ways to maintain the link, as by then I'd also lost touch with LW who we met on the train & by a magical coincidence in the pilgrims office - never to be seen again. Another couple had told me of their blog - they moved on and I read their progress avidly as we followed further & further behind. However, again we did not connect again in person, and I didn't seem to have captured any way to get their attention.

We explored Espinal, slept, read, organised, and relished having our own room & own bathroom. We both had aching muscles and were pleased to stop. This small village was peaceful & quiet. While wandering around the town my beloved missed the edge of a raised footpath and felt flat on his face, much to his embarrassment. I thought he was a complete goner as it looked from behind like he'd face planted himself into the roadway with a whack. I've never known him to fall like that. He had a few scratches, but amazingly was OK. Fortunately he didn't have his backpack on at the time and neither did he do that again. Someone had told me it takes about ten days to adjust. Well we had a few to go!

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 5 of our camino - Espinal to Zubiri. The sun shone and we walked and it was magical! Along with this we started to hit the complications of our different walking styles. I like to stop at cafes, rest in beautiful spots, find people to talk with, meander and take my time. My beloved likes to start early, go for it without stopping, arrive by 1 pm and have a siesta. We wanted to walk together, so somehow we had to find a way to make these differences mesh. I was also wanting to carry our own stuff, not book ahead, and explore the letting go of seeing what happens - something my beloved found very anxiety provoking.

Well this day, after a long hot walk, we found that the the accomodation we had considered using in Zubiri was full. We had heard of people having to sleep on mattresses in a gym here because of the early Sept crowds, a prospect that didn't appeal at this stage of our camino journey. Well, my beloved had just had enough at this point. But we persisted and found our wonderful beds at El Palo De Avellano. This place has delightful wooden beams, was well run with a comfortable lounge area, and had a communal pilgrim meal. We had conversations that, little did we know then, were going to make the rest of our camino even more special. What was more challenging for me was that I was located on a very high top bunk which I struggled to clamber up onto big time with my very sore muscles. Such is life on the camino!

 

[Terrri]

Thank you for posting this, I am enjoying reliving the camino vicariously thru you.

My husband and I will be setting out next week and we appear to have similar travel styles as you and your husband. While we have been on our walks I bring up the subject of "slow travel" and he seems to be coming around but I know I will have to reel him in from time to time.

I googled your accomodations in Zubiri and that is the place I stayed at with my daughter a few years back. The dinner was wonderful and a great place to meet people - almost on par with Orisson for our experience there.

I look forward to reading more.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 6 - Sept 7. We had enjoyed Zubiri - the bridge, the river, the cafe on the corner with ceveza sin alcohol, aqua con gas, olives, fried potatoes with chilli sauce, and a shop to explore whether we needed anymore gear - a sleeping bag liner for him and rubber stoppers for our walking poles. A day for walking with the river, appreciating shade and enjoying the bounty of the fruits of late summer. For visiting "The Abbey" and enjoying a long cool drink & rest at the pizza cafe in Irotz.

Somehow I knew there was an albergue in Zalbaldika that was off the way now, due to some sort of local politics. Neither of the guidebooks we had mentioned much about this, but I just knew this was a place I wanted to go. The arrows pointed one way, and we went the other, up a hot dry goat track. My beloved was convinced we were going the wrong direction, but I persisted, although also doubting myself. And then the path opened out to a treed, shady, grassy area with table & chairs. We walked past the door to the church and entered the albergue. The welcome was amazing - helped off with my backpack, sat down at a table, offered grapes and lemon water, welcomed and listened to. People who understood the place our heads, hearts and bodies were in.

This was a special place - clean and light, with lots of single beds, and only one bunk!! I went to the mass, I rang the bell, we shared the meal, and we joined the evening sharing in which the four nuns translated our languages as we offered forward why we were doing the camino. I wept with floods of tears for my father who had died five years earlier. Those nuns had chosen to play in English his favourite hymn during the mass. It was deeply personal and very moving. Those who were close to me who had passed on were somehow very close to me. I am so grateful for the gift those nuns created with their holding of that space. This was why I was here.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 7 - Sept 8 This was the day we walked to Pamplona. After following the Rio Arga we arrived at the Puente de Arre. I knew some people we met had made a point of staying here. I was intrigued by the bridge and the building near the bridge, and went investigating. Another angel - " i.e. man with a beret" - beckoned us in, turned on a light in the darkness, showed us a chapel, and stamped our credentials, an unexpected find. It wasn't until later that I discovered that in fact this was part of one of the oldest albergues on the camino, I'm sure it was where all those others were going to stay, and apparently has a lovely rose garden. Here's hoping I get to visit in the future.

We carried on. All of a sudden I became very desperate "to go". We were near a park, and of course being in the city I couldn't just "go". There was a fairly impressive building nearby that I thought looked like a possibility, surrounded by modern sculptures and artworks, . Dearly beloved thought we weren't dressed for entering, but I was desperate. We had to hang around for it to open, and I didn't dare move anywhere. Finally we found our way in, and the women's facilities were fabulous!! With delight I then enjoyed our meal at the associated cafe. I'd have paid double price for the relief I'd just experienced .

We wandered into Pamplona, over the draw bridge and finding by a circuitous route the post office where I'd posted a guidebook about Spanish cities from SJPP. I was assured it hadn't arrived and probably wouldn't. Oh dear, I had been planning to use that as an accomodation and tourist guide in the cities we would be visiting. Feeling despondent and somewhat overwhelmed by it all, it took me a while to have a very simple brainwave - I have technology, I can download the book. And thus we found a bed at Hotel Castillo De Javier. That night we wandered around, loving the crowds, delighting in a live orchestra playing in the main square, and having fabulous pinchos at Bodegon Sarria. A very different night to the one before, with its own magic.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 8 - Wed, Sept 9, 2015. No blisters, no broken bones, no shin splints, no injuries, no tendonitis. But our muscles were sore!! and we definitely were walking with the "camino shuffle". Time for another rest day and a chance to indulge. We explored Pamplona, visiting the cathedral, following the path the bulls run, and delighting in the walkability of the old city. We ate, we slept, & we rested. On the road again tomorrow.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 9 Sept 10 - Around now was the time that our different styles began to take their toll. I had hoped to get to at least Ortega, but this was not to be. We knew we wanted to walk together, but this meant that between us we just didn't get as far. My beloved would start to become very anxious if we didn't have a bed by about 12.30, the closer to midday we were, the faster and harder he would walk. I could keep going much longer, but wanted to go slow and take lots of breaks. I was much more relaxed about what would be would be. Either of us on our own would probably have walked further each day, but the combination slowed us down. This was going to be a slow camino, a chance to savour each part.

We departed through the parklands of Pamplona, and across the fields to Cizur Minor. I spent time sitting in the peaceful simplicity of the chapel of the Order of Malta. I have a definite preference for undressed stone and wood. Then on to Zariqueigui. We found our beds at La Posada de Ardogi, early enough to have bottom bunks, and sat outside being part of the passing parade of pilgrims. That evening there was a guitar being played, and wonderful singing. Then a local young woman with Downs Syndrome came in with a woman, I suspect was her mother, and danced with the joy of life. This was a village gathering for the evening, enjoying their local bar and the simple pleasure of being with each other, and we had the privilege to be part of it.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 10 - Fri, Sept 11 Zariquiegui to Obanos via Eunate. The really special part of today was going to Eunate. Shortly after I heard about this pilgrimage in the North of Spain that called me so long ago, I read about Eunate. It also called.

We climbed Alto del Perdon, where the wind turbines impressed me. We passed a Mary statue in marble whose peaceful face absorbed me. And we neared the turn off I had intended. By this time it was hot and near mid-day and my beloved was not interested in more distance. I persisted despite his reluctance, and we made our way past fields of capsicums, a plain farming landscape with hot, treeless gravel roads. And we persisted.

Finally we arrived and by some blessing it was open. I went inside and sat, absorbing the quiet of this deeply centred place. My soul felt rested. There was a deep silence that filled me up. A blessed, precious time. I could have stayed for hours, but it was not to be, it was time to close. And yet nearby, in an orchard above it was possible to still feel the presence of this place.

I walked in peace, and arrived in Obanos, staying at the Albergue USDA de Obanos, my being resonating with where we had been.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 11, - Sat, Sept 12. Obanos to Cirauqui. Before leaving for this camino I had been following about a missing pilgrim, Denise. As we had walked there was more & more news about the camino on TV. On this day it had become fairly clear that her body had been found. We walked into Puente la Reina & a church bell started tolling. The grief shared seemed palpable.

We entered a church that we were passing. My beloved felt awkward in all our pilgrim gear, but we stayed. What I hadn't expected was how the acoustics of this old place of worship amplified the voices of the small congregation, creating the most exquisite pure music from just the human voice.

We went on to cross the bridge, met up with a lovely acquaintance from Germany who we kept crossing paths with, and ended up at the lovely Albergue Maralotz Aterpea. I had come to enjoy the variety of clothes washing facilities I found, the simple ritual of washing clothes with soap & water provided a structure to my day. Here there was a spacious outdoor balcony to appreciate while I washed, rinsed and found space to dry.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 12 - Sun Sept 13. A quiet day of simple walking, being on Roman roads & bridges, being in awe of what they created, appreciating the beauty that is created today by the builders of our era (an amazing pilgrim underpass), enjoying haystacks and sunflowers, and walking into the presence of Estella, where we found a comfortable place to stay at the Hotel Chapitel.

An earlier injury to my back was starting to play up and all I wanted was a hot bath. Instead I sat on the floor of our "private!" shower and let the water run over me, still wanting that bath. I was also craving an osteopath, or at least a healing massage. We were both missing our bed and the comforts of home. We were both feeling fragile.

I said something that really distressed my beloved. Unusually for him he began sobbing, and said we might as well stop now and go home. By some blessed impulse I suggested we focus on just the next week and then review. He agreed, we found a place of peace and resolution, and went to find food & explore Estella.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 13, Mon Sept 14 - rest day in Estella. I used this day to do some yoga & stretching, hoping that this, and not carrying a backpack for a day, would help my back. We also went looking for somewhere that could give me a treatment or a massage, without success. I just wanted some magic hands. However, it was still wonderful to have our own bathroom, with great towels & a bathmat. The simple things which gave such comfort.

A special part of the day was to visit the Church of San Pedro de La Rua and its special cloister. I wandered slowly, bemused and captivated. I was drawn back into the church by a woman reading the Rosary, followed by a mass in which the woman beside me had the most exquisite pure voice. I felt blessed by the grace of the feminine, followed by a meaningful, intimate pilgrims' blessing for the three of us that were there. The request to be remembered at Santiago felt real.

 

[KinkyOne]

We also went looking for somewhere that could give me a treatment or a massage, without success. I just wanted some magic hands.

Just a suggestion for next time on Camino - look for info on massage etc. on advertising boards in albergues even if you stay in other kind of accommodation.

Nice reading your rememberings, BTW!

 

[BonitaHolland]

Mon Sept 14 - rest day in Estella. I used this day to do some yoga & stretching, hoping that this, and not carrying a backpack for a day, would help my back. We also went looking for somewhere that could give me a treatment or a massage, without success. I just wanted some magic hands. However, it was still wonderful to have our own bathroom, with great towels & a bathmat. The simple things which gave such comfort.

A special part of the day was to visit the Church of San Pedro de La Rua and its special cloister. I wandered slowly, bemused and captivated. I was drawn back into the church by a woman reading the Rosary, followed by a mass in which the woman beside me had the most exquisite pure voice. I felt blessed by the grace of the feminine, followed by a meaningful, intimate pilgrims' blessing for the three of us that were there. The request to be remembered at Santiago felt real.

Today I'm reading your thoughts in Vianna having just experienced the bull run. I'm very interested in your experiences exactly a year ago today.

 

[BonitaHolland]

V

Mon Sept 14 - rest day in Estella. I used this day to do some yoga & stretching, hoping that this, and not carrying a backpack for a day, would help my back. We also went looking for somewhere that could give me a treatment or a massage, without success. I just wanted some magic hands. However, it was still wonderful to have our own bathroom, with great towels & a bathmat. The simple things which gave such comfort.

A special part of the day was to visit the Church of San Pedro de La Rua and its special cloister. I wandered slowly, bemused and captivated. I was drawn back into the church by a woman reading the Rosary, followed by a mass in which the woman beside me had the most exquisite pure voice. I felt blessed by the grace of the feminine, followed by a meaningful, intimate pilgrims' blessing for the three of us that were there. The request to be remembered at Santiago felt real.

Auberge Villa de Magica has a talented masseur

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 14, Tues Sept 15 - Estella to Villlamayor de Monjardin. My back was definitely feeling easier as we took off. We arrived at the famous wine fountain, which I was seriously underwhelmed by, but still made a point of drinking some wine from my scallop shell. Like many others we were too early to visit the Monasterio de Irache. We wound our way upwards, stopping to rest and look out over fields. We had a much greater sense of togetherness & purpose after our Estella catharsis.

This was reflected in a quiet day of walking towards an impressive looking hill which we discovered we were going to be climbing. In fact we ended up sleeping at the top of it, getting beds at the Albergue Villamayor de Monjardin. Top bunk again, in a small three bunk room with a beautiful flowering oleander outside, and at least one person coughing and spluttering! I loved albergues for the sense of connection they gave me with others, and the sense of being part of something greater. I missed that when we stayed elsewhere, and yet they definitely had their challenges.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 15, Wed, Sept 16 Villamayor de Jardin to Los Arcos. A long uninterrupted walk through the countryside, with a cold wind, and a back that was becoming uncomfortable again. It was very frustrating as the rest of me was comfortable, and my pack sat easily on me. However, resting and stretching were just not touching the pain. We arrived to get beds at Albergue Casa de la Abuela. After a siesta & a wander around the town we found ourselves craving pizza. We were unexpectedly ushered to a downstairs cellars. We waved a pilgrim who was alone over to our table. Turned out not only did she speak English, she came from our home state! She told us a tale of desperately needing replacement footwear earlier in the day, and the miracle of finding a pair of flip flops awaiting her, ready to step into, on a long deserted bit of road. Hoping for my own miracle, I'd seen a notice about a masseur in another albergue, so we tracked him down, but he was completely booked out. Was not to be.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 16, Thurs, Sept 17. Out in the country again, passing vineyards, almond trees & olive groves, enjoying the harvest season, and fascinated by the stone beehive structures. In the shade of an olive grove in a valley we rested. Internally I was calling out with some desperation for help from somewhere, my back was so uncomfortable, and intensely dominating my experience. My beloved was caring for me tenderly, assisting me with taking off & putting on my backpack.

He gently asked if my hip belt was tight enough. I felt a bit put out, I'd been hiking for years, and had had the fitting of my backpack checked before we left. However, I pulled it tight, thinking I had nothing to lose, and on reflection realised I really hadn't made much of an effort to adjust it since leaving SJPP. We carried on, arriving in Torres del Rio - where I just had to stop, and we found bottom bunks at the Albergue La Pata de Oca.

We enrolled and turned to see a woman we had been with in passing at several of the albergues we had been in. My beloved had seen her in the morning at our Los Arcos albergue, and commented I had been disappointed not to get a massage the previous evening. She mentioned that she did massage, and then they said good-bye.

Well, my beloved thought it was just supposed to be seeing her at this albergue, and promptly asked her if she would be willing to give me a massage. She said she hadn't done any massage since on being the Camino, or told anyone, but she would for me, and in fact it also just so happened she had booked a beautiful private room for the night which would be perfect to do it in. I felt somewhat awkward about all this, and yet was also desperate for something.

What this wonderful, caring angel did was give me the best massage I have ever had. Turns out she runs a day spa with a large staff, and has been doing massage and treatments for years. What a blessing!!!! I felt deeply healed and nourished. We spent the evening together, and found much to connect us. I still feel so deeply grateful for what she did for me, and the grace that brought us together.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 17, Fri Sept 18. A rest day in Torres del Rio. After getting a room to ourselves that had two double beds in it, we slept, read, rested, talked, ate, and did nothing much at all!!

 

[SYates]

... we slept, read, rested, talked, ate, and did nothing much at all!!

Sums up the Camino, after walking, doesn't it? Buen Camino! SY

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 18, Sat Sept 19 - a year ago. Torres del Rio to Viana. We walked with the sun behind us creating golden light, and making long shadows. Through rocky land, and past more stone beehive buildings. Arriving in Viana we found our way up the stairs to the Albergue Parochial Santa Maria de Viana. The welcoming hospitaleros were from South Africa, and warned us that it had been very full the previous night. We sat in the light filled lounge, looking out over the town square. My heart warmed to my beloved playing the guitar.

This was going to be our first night on thin mattresses on the floor, I was a little apprehensive. We prepared for the crowds, and they didn't arrive. Just four of us pilgrims enjoyed the South African cuisine and the convivial company. We ended up with a room of our own, and could have had five mattresses each! It was unexpectedly comfortable.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 19, Sun Sept 20. Somehow by some providence, we were walking into Logrono on the Sunday of Logrono's annual week long wine festival. On the way a group of dedicated pilgrims passed us, carrying a cross and a Mary statue, dressed in simple home spun clothes, singing and very focused.

We walked into the city not sure what we would find. On arrival all was very quiet. However, as we wandered the carousing was clearly beginning, as groups of people dressed in team costumes gathered in various locations. Shops spontaneously offered us large plastic glasses of wine. Gradually we found our way to the Albergue Paroquial de Santiago and waited outside in the street. Eventually a lovely lady opened the doors and we were able to choose bottom bunks!

After settling in we ventured out on the street, to much bigger, and much more inebriated crowds, who mixed, ebbed and flowed, all combined with family groups out for a great time. We never did manage to figure all that was going on. And I didn't get to participate in my dream of doing some barefoot wine-pressing. However, we followed our noses, explored, and found a really interesting museum in the old walls of the city.

Somewhere during the day we had decided we would definitely proceed for another week and review. We were both feeling much more settled, and my back was coming right. I was tightening my hip belt on my pack religiously, which I think was making a big difference. And I was still so grateful for that massage.

After mass we shared a convivial meal of many languages. This meal was followed by the priest guiding us through various narrow passages back into the church, now candlelit. There we sat in the choristry & shared some further readings. It was a space of quiet & spaciousness that contrasted significantly with the laughter, noise & singing that continued loudly all night outside. We were in an oasis of peace, held & nourished.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 20, Mon Sept 21. Logrono to Navarette. We enjoyed the experience of walking right through a city, and emerged out the other side of Logrono appreciating the way this city supported the pilgrim path. Eventually we passed wine pressings evocative of the previous evening. Passing through Parque de la Grajera, we appreciated the presence of the water birds. Settling into the cafe nearby, Richard from New York, who we'd met the previous night, sat down with us. I made a mess of a particuarly fabulous hot chocolate, the three of us connected, sat together in harmony, parted, and never saw each other again.

Further on, as I joined the ritual placement of a homemade twig cross on the fence by highway, a large group of pilgrims caught up with us. They were were doing a series of day walks of sections of the Camino as part of a tour. One woman walked with me for quite a while, really interested in my experiences and why I was doing it. It seemed strange, as I felt such a newby, and yet for her I was full of knowledge and a source of understanding.

Arriving on the outskirts of Navarette I was absorbed in the history of the ruins of a monastery that used to look after pilgrims, imagining the lives and stories embedded in the stones and land. Shortly after this we were offered a voucher to stop at a cafe by a gentle man. However, we ignored his invitation and pressed on to seek accomodation. With hindsight, we missed the promptings of the universe, and probably should have stopped at that cafe. Our gentle man had had the quality of an angel, and we ignored him. Stopping & resting, eating & drinking would have been a good idea.

However, my beloved was keen to have a room of our own for the night, and the Albergue El Cantoro and its double rooms drew my attention. We walked through the ups and downs of the town to find it. However, there was only a six bed dorm left and my beloved really, really wanted that room of our own. Big mistake turning down a bed! We headed back to a hotel we'd passed, no beds. We reversed, to a hotel on the outskirts of town. My beloved took one look and decided it was just too up-market. Reversed again, back to Abergue El Cantoro, to take anything, but - no beds left.

My beloved took off, while I pondered our next options. He went ahead of me, found another hotel, and booked it without consulting me. I'd had other albergue thoughts, and I'd had the feeling there were people we were supposed to meet. I was furious that he'd preempted a joint decision. The place he'd booked gave me the creeps. All my rage of times I'd felt ignored and discounted poured through me. It was potent.

And yet there was a treat in store. We were very close to the small central square and the church. We sat under the trees of the square, appreciating the shade, having some wonderful food, and watching life pass by. Then I went into the church. I sat there quietly, still processing what we had been through. I'm not into lots of gold, but the Mary of this church entranced me. Then someone turned on the lights and I was transported. There was something about this particular retablo that drew me in. It's a very precious memory, although, I do still wonder who was it that I didn't get to meet?

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 21, Tues 22 Sept. A short walk the next day took us to Ventosa. We had some debate about the route to follow to get there, but did manage to find our way. We kept looking for the 1 km walk of artworks that various signs had referred to. We found a few, but suspected the global financial crisis may have interfered with the completion of this particular project's efforts to put Ventosa in the map.

We arrived really early and decided to splash out and stay at the Hotel Las Agueda. This gracious place had an amazing lounge for us to settle into, and books for us to read! There were lots of curios collected over many years for us to wonder about, and in the evening the caring owner provided a wonderful dinner. It was all another side of Spain for us to experience.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 22, Wed Sept 23. A restful day in Ventosa enjoying comfort and ease. Towels, easy chairs, privacy, good food, books, and a really comfortable mattress. The owner of this hotel has walked the Camino and understands.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 23, Thurs Sept 24. As we continued walking we pondered how to plan our time. My beloved was craving some vacation time before we went back to our demanding full-time jobs. I was wanting to get to Santiago, and then hoped to walk to Finisterre. How were we going to integrate this? The first step of the decision that we evolved was that we would keep walking for five weeks, and then review where we were at.

Our walking today led us through the town of Najera, I loved the atmosphere that was created by the cliff walls this city is bounded by. I had hoped to visit the monastery here, and see their Mary in a cave. However, the app I was using misled me and we walked right past it. By the time this became clear we were on our 12.30 run to get a bed, so unfortunately no turning back. Somewhere else that I'm hoping to come back & see some day.

We did manage to make it to the Albergue Municipal de Peregrines at Azofra in time to get our bed, delighting in its two-bed rooms with space for our backpacks. However, I missed the communal camaraderie that I'd been finding in the shared spaces and simple accomodation of the parochial albergues. I sat in the courtyard and walked the main street of this small town, but somehow felt a stranger and out of touch with the path. Too many days of rooms with just the two of us. I hadn't realised how I'd miss having other people in my sleeping space.

 

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Day 24, Fri Sept 25. We left Azofra on a beautiful morning, with blue sky, white clouds & glowing light. We walked past a house with crooked brick pillars that intrigued me, rested gratefully at a roadside stall, wandered past a somewhat incongruous golf course where we found a cafe, then through a modern & somewhat abandoned housing estate, followed by fields and wide skies, arriving eventually in Santo Domingo de la Calzada.

We had hoped to stay with the Cistercian nuns, but they were full, so instead we found our bunk upstairs at Casa de la Cofradia del Santo - a very large albergue. Exploring the cathedral I hardly noticed the poultry. Instead my being was captured by a Mary statue at the very front of the church, in the oldest part. I just wanted to sit in front of her & gaze, but there were no chairs, so I found a pillar to lean on while I absorbed her still quiet beauty..

 

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Day 25 - Sat Sept 26.We decided that we would stay three nights in Santo Domingo & get two whole days in one place, a first for more than three weeks. I really wanted to stay a night with the nuns at Nuestra Señora de la Annunciation Abadia Ciercience, so we lined up outside early. Once this big heavy door opened we given a very cute alcove with two beds. I felt very cared for here, although the facilities were old and limited. That night we listened to the nuns singing in one church, then went on to hear a choir from Pamplona singing in the cathedral. Two masses in a row, blessed with voices that soared and echoed. A very special day.

 

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Day 26 - Sun, Sept 27. Treat day today. We booked into the Parador de Santo Domingo de la Calzada, and our room had a bath!!! I took several that day, the best part about the stay, although the solid stone of this old pilgrim's hospital was also impressive. We ate well, and explored the town some more - climbing the bell tower, sitting in the chapel of La Magdalena where the smell of lilies became my evocative camino fragrance, and eating candied orange segments dipped in chocolate. Bliss.

 

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Day 27, Mon Sept 28. On the road again. As I crossed over the Rio Oja on a bridge originally constructed by Santo Domingo, and passed a chapel remembering him, I was becoming intrigued by this man who did so much to support pilgrims. We were on a slow camino and decided to stop in Granon. With some direction we found our way to the Hospital de Peregrines San Juan Bautista.

We climbed up narrow stone stairs to beds that were mattresses close together on the floor. Here we felt welcomed, enjoying an afternoon of watching a giant pumpkin being carved into a jack-o-lantern, finding our way to the drying paddock for our clothes, participating in food preparation, singing for our supper and sharing in a candlelit church. Precious grace. Thanks to all who support this place.

 

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Day 28, Tues Sept 29. We left Granon in clear cool light. I was feeling very drawn to stay in the birthplace of Santo Domingo, this man I'd never paid much attention to, and who had so clearly been significant in the development of the camino. However, I felt embarrassed to arrive so early at the Refugio de Peregrines Acacio y Oritta in Viloria de Rioja. It wasn't yet open, and we didn't have a booking, but we really wanted to stay here.

We waited outside and enjoyed being with pots of lavender & rosemary while watching beans being harvested. We were joined by another pilgrim and began talking about his relationship stories and history while we sat in the sun together, not sure if there would be a bed, but feeling it was right to be there. A sense of spaciousness in a world that had somehow put us together in this moment in time and place with life stories that were supposed to connect.

Eventually we were welcomed in to Acacio and Oritta's home. We settled in, did our washing, and sat in their comfortable lounge with music, incense & books - layers of my being relaxing. Suddenly Orittta grabbed my wrist. I had been scratching it, thinking I must have brushed against a plant and reacted. She told me they were bed bug bites. I was mortified, but she reassured me, that it was part of the camino, and she had had them when she was a pilgrim.

Now I know more, these were the classic three bites that are common with bedbugs. What I also came to realise was that probably the odd bites I had been experiencing since we first started, and that I had interpreted as fleas or mosquitos were probably bedbugs bites. I never saw any in the places we stayed, and I don't know if I had them all the way through, or they came and went, or they gradually built up. What I was now worried about was passing them on. Orritta reassured me she would be washing my bedding really thoroughly.

That evening a journalist and camera man from Brazil who were doing a documentary about the camino joined our evening meal that Orrita had prepared. Ten of us were gathered around the table and Acacia and Orrita joined us, and gradually moved us into a discussion filled with depth from their own pilgrim experiences. The conversation was wide ranging and meaningful, and yet another way to connect with others on this camino journey. I don't know what came of the documentary. I'd love to see it some time.

 

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Day 29 - Wed, Sept 30. We woke up to breakfast being prepared for us. Thank you Orietta. Departing we passed the church that Santo Domingo was baptised in, right by the demolished remains of the house he was born in. I valued the quiet peacefulness of this place.

As we passed through Belarado we visited the Iglesia do Santa Maria. We were hungry and thirsty, but had passed by an open albergue that provided food, expecting to find more choices. They didn't appear. Instead we stopped and rested in a park near a bridge that had originally been built by Santo Domingo. Shortly after this we found food at a highway road-stop, a big contrast to our usual cafes. I gratefully used their conveniences.

We continued on to Tosantos. Here we were warmly welcomed by the hospitelero at the Albergue Parroquial de Tosantos. We enjoyed a shower, washed our clothes, put our things on the mattresses on the floor, and went to buy an ice-cream at the other albergue's bar.

Around five a local woman took us up to the chapel in a cave carved out of from cliff - the Ermita de la Virgen de la Pena. This woman visits with flowers every day to look after her Mary who she clearly adores. I sat with her and the others in this place of sanctuary, and learned, as we translated for each other, that once a year the Virgen de la Pena is brought down with great ceremony to the village.

We arrived back to a kitchen that had people working together to prepare our meal. As we sat around the kitchen table chopping vegetables, we also had a guitar and a hospitelero that encouraged us to sing. It turned out we were staying the night with two sisters from a group called the Railflowers from northern California. They had beautiful voices and we sang our hearts out with them.

After gathering around a long table for our evening meal, we went to upstairs room for a shared time of Taise type singing and prayers. The time included reading out prayer requests from previous pilgrims. The hospitalero here holds the energy and intent of this place with a conviction that promotes tranquility and caring. I felt blessed by the experiences of the past three evenings, each different, and each special in its unique way. And I was hoping that my bedbug bites would heal quickly as I hid them under long sleeves.

 

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Day 30 - Thurs, Oct 1. We left with the rising sun mysteriously lighting the chapel in the rock. After regathering with orange juice and frittata with some of our albergue roommates at a cafe in Espinosa del Camino we made our way onwards, past an intriguing ruined monastery, to another cafe stop at Villafranca Montes de Oca. I was feeling desperate and the queue for the conveniences seemed to take forever - I was praying for them to finish their business! Great relief was followed by a mineral water resting in the sun.

After climbing uphill, and resting for our lunch, we descended along a very long fire track through a forest of oaks and pines, the wide straight uninterrupted gravel road softened by pilgrim designs of hearts, arrows and initials. A cafe of coloured poles was a welcome change, but the presence of police and dogs made it all seem strange, unreal, and a bit daunting.

Eventually the monastery of San Juan de Ortega appeared and we found our top bunk beds upstairs in this albergue. I appreciated the sense of times past with an appealing two story stone flagged courtyard that was encompassed by verandahs and had a small font in the middle, but the fact the women's bathroom kept flooding became a challenge, with nearly every bathroom trip involving wet feet.

We joined the pilgrims' mass that evening in the simple resonant iglesia, surrounded by the familiar faces of people who we had shared the journey with over the last few days. There were a few tears. We then had the garlic and bread soup that was provided as part of a communal meal. I bedded down in my comforting lightweight down sleeping bag, only to find there was a couple sharing the single bunk immediately below me. However, either I was exhausted or they kept very still, 'cause I slept.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 31 - Fri, Oct 2. We left San Juan do Ortega in moonlight and cool air. Passing through more woods, on a woodland friendly path, we came to open fields that looked out over plains. My beloved wandered up to our left and found a small circular labyrinth - magically lit in the light of the rising sun. I circled in and found a white flat smooth stone at the centre which I impulsively picked up.

We carried on, quietly moved by this, to Ages where we were enthusiastically welcomed into the Albergue San Rafael for a morning orange juice and hot chocolate. A young man who we had seen several times over the last few days was arguing vigorously with the owners. We had no idea what it was all about, but it was very loud, and reminded us that he had been yelling in our room the morning we stayed at Tosantos. A concern that we didn't understand and couldn't sort out. A strange engagement.

Moving on some more, we were well on our way, feeling spacious and relaxed. Suddenly a man behind us called out. It was the owner of the albergue running after us. We stopped, he approached and revealed that I'd left my travel wallet behind. I was so grateful. Opening up this wallet I had a choice between a E5 & a E50 note. I knew we were were low on cash, and I wanted to give E50. But in that fleeting choice point decided not to. I still regret this - what he did was so caring and he looked so exhausted from pelting down the road after us. May the universe fill your days with wonderful things.

We passed through Atapeurca with a strong sense of the length of time that human beings had lived in this place. It was palpable as we climbed the Altapuerca range viewing a landscape that their eyes had also seen, looking out for miles in all directions provided an answer to why people had settled here over a million years ago.

Another circular labyrinth appeared. I walked in slowly and placed the white stone I had found earlier in the middle of the cairn at the centre. I have no idea what that was all about, but it was what I was moved to do. We descended into Villalval, seeing the Roman fountain, loving the stone and the workmanship, but disappointed by its white dirty water,

Making our way to Cardenuela Riopico, we found our night's accomodation at the Albergue Santa Fe. We took a private room, rested in the bar, and that night had a wonderful meal with others at a beautifully set table. This unexpectedly delicious pilgrims menu included an amazing seafood soup that I can still taste .

My worry here however was the presence of my bedbug bites, which I kept trying to hide. Although I didn't seem to have any new ones I was feeling paranoid about passing these on to other places. So I insisted that we both put all our things in one corner of our room, and showered everything, hair & all, before climbing into bed stark naked. I figured that Burgos would be where I could sort this out properly.

 

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Day 32 - Sat, Oct 3. Today we walked into Burgos by the river route. Again we began in the beautiful light of the rising sun. We managed to lose our way turning off, and were also confused when we got to Castanares. It all made sense with hind-sight, but its easy to misinterpret instructions, and we'd been very used to the simple task of following yellow arrows for 31 days.

All is well that ends well and the river route was lovely. I was counting bridges, really looking forward to a mesmerising entry into the Cathedral square. It was not to be. My beloved had been shrugging off a respiratory virus, and as we walked he struggled more and more. We were nearly there when I called it quits, deciding we needed to find somewhere for him to stop now. We crossed the river at an earlier bridge, and found our way to the Hotel Centro Los Braseros. They had beds available!! and our room had a bath.

We rested and then wandered around a town that we discovered was celebrating the life of El Cid. People were dressed up in medieval gear, and there was jousting and a medieval market. That night we ate in our hotel's restaurant only to find that we were sitting right beside the original camino way. In the dark, crowds of medieval celebrants with flaming torches, walking and mounted on horses, passed right by our window. We couldn't have planned a more special entry into the life of Burgos. Our random days, and unbooked accomodation had somehow come together to this.

 

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Day 33 - Sun, Oct 4. Today we hopped on the red toy train that takes people around the sights of Burgos - worth doing, although I missed walking. When we arrived back at the cathedral crowds of the medieval characters were hanging around the square. We stood close by & watched and waited beside them, taking lots of photos.

Then, low and behold the main doors to the cathedral opened, and all processed in accompanied by trumpeting and banners. We followed them - our first entry into this beautiful cathedral, which was filled to capacity by crowds attending a mass which appeared to be celebrating the life of El Cid. What an introduction.

That afternoon we explored the Museum of Human Evolution, a journey in itself, very evocative of Atapuerca. And then we heard trumpeters. They had followed us in, retreating from the pouring rain, and were parading, dancing, and flag waving inside the museum, with sounds that echoed around its huge spaces. A most strange juxtaposition.

 

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Day 34 - Mon, Oct 5. Today was to be our "once and for all, and completely, deal with bedbugs, day". I didn't seem to have any more bites, but I wasn't convinced that I had done all that we needed to. One of the great things with where we were staying was that they had really good wifi, so I had been reading absolutely everything I could find. I was also wanting to avoid using chemicals if at all possible, for a whole variety of reasons.

What I had been doing since arriving in Burgos was making the most of the bath we had in our hotel bathroom, and washing everything we had with us that could be washed in really hot water, including our backpacks. We'd also turned "showering and washing our hair before getting into bed with nothing on" into an evening ritual. In addition, we had divided the room into sections with big rubbish bags - what hadn't yet been "treated with hot water" and what had been well washed.

However, what I needed was a dryer, and the information I'd gleaned from investigating what was available in Burgos was that the only laundromat was a long walk away from where we were staying. With a sense of desperation I talked with the hotel reception staff as to where I could wash and dry some clothes, and they suggested the local municipal albergue - Albergue Municipal de Burgos. So we packed up all we had that could be dried in a dryer and made our way to this albergue before opening time. We lined up with all the pilgrims arriving and when the doors opened made our way in. I explained in garbled Spanglish, eventually managing to get it across, that all we wanted to do was use their laundry facilities, helped by showing our credentials.

I was so overwhelmed with gratitude when a lovely lady guided us to two commercial washing machines & a dryer, all of which looked really easy to use, and were part of a large communal eating and gathering area. We sat there for the next few hours, putting our dry, unwashed merinos and sleeping bags through the dryer, and washing and then drying all the rest of our clothes, etc. (The next day I came in with all the clothes we had been wearing today to wash and dry them as well.) Later I realised I could have just focused on the drying and saved a lot of time and some money, but I was a bit slow. It was the hot dryer that was the key. At the same time it was great to be in amongst pilgrims again, sitting and chatting and whiling away the time - being with our people.

We had no signs of any more bites from this time on while we were in Spain. A bonus was that I was feeling much more comfortable about the possibility of getting bedbugs again because I now had a very concrete strategy, that I felt comfortable with, for dealing with them promptly. They were just a possible part of a travelling life, rather than an overwhelming thing to somehow feel ashamed of. My one requirement - access to a good dryer. For much of the time we were in Burgos it was raining so we didn't do anything more with our backpacks than wash them really throughly with hot water. I was prepared to do more if we'd had further problems but we were fine. I'm still grateful for Orietta's caring and reassuring response when she first noticed my bites back in Viloria de Rioja.

However, my beloved's respiratory virus was getting worse, and I was feeling decidedly seedy, so it was looking like we would be staying in Burgos for longer than we planned. We both retreated to bed.

 

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Day 35 - Tues, Oct 6. My beloved was feeling very unwell, while I was picking up, so I went to have an in-depth exploration of the Santa Igleisa Catedral Basilica Metropolitana de Santa Maria de Burgos. I loved the light and whiteness of the dome. I was very drawn to some particularly old murals painted right on the stone walls. A small stained window looking out on the Calle de la Paloma appealed, and I went looking for Mary statues. I made the most of having the time and space to be with me.

However, I tired really quickly, and went back to our bed overlooking the camino, using wifi to watch and monitor a wild fire close to our home. I could listen to our local radio and hear well known voices; track happenings, maps & weather; and be as informed as I would have been if I was right there. A strangely disconcerting familiarity in a land that was still a stranger, where I regularly faced the challenge of how to understand & be understood.

 

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Day 36 - Wed, Oct 7. Today was review day. Five weeks since we started our Camino at SJPP. My plan had always been to persist and see where we got to, and come back another day. Doing this together and taking things very slowly was meaning that we were either not going to get to Santiago or we would have to do a leapfrog. We decided that we would catch a bus for 400km, and continue from Sarria. I had very mixed feelings about this, but it also seemed right. I was hoping that we would be able to add a walk to Finisterre onto the end.

My beloved was still very unwell, but fortunately I had come right, so I had a special day exploring Burgos on my own. I went to sort out our bus tickets at the bus station, then walked to the Monasterio de La Huelgas. I was initially taken aback by the very high level of security around this place, but what a special piece of history that is well worth visiting, clearly valued and cared for, with some beautiful cloisters.

I then walked through the walled gardens of the Parque El Parral to find where the camino leaves Burgos. From here I reverse walked the camino, back across the river, through the city gates, past the Municipal Albergue and our hotel, then to where the original camino enters the city. A sense of being blessed and engaging with those who had passed this way before was with me. I was ready for if & when we came back to do this next stage, God willing.

 

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Day 37 - Thurs, Oct 8. We had to get up really early for our 4am ride. We walked through the empty streets of Burgos in the dark. Travelling in our bus I could not see the meseta that I had been hoping to walk, and instead had to hope that this would be in my future.

Arriving in Sarria we made our up hill way up along confusing back roads to the Albergue Monasterio de la Magdalena. Going down stone flagged stairs to the laundry I passed through a wonderful small walled garden that brought home we were in new countryside.
After putting our washing in the sun, we headed back down the hill, this time by the more conventional historical route lined by stone houses.

Back down the bottom of the hill we investigated every pilgrim's dream shop - the Peregrinoteca, and then found a cafe-bar by the river. A couple ran it who welcomed us in, and fed us fresh walnuts. I felt deeply relaxed and at peace and wanted to stay, but my beloved had the impression she had been crying and they had been arguing. His view was so completely different to my experience of a warm, caring atmosphere and people who really wanted us around. It was very strange how differently we interpreted this place, as usually we are in tune. And it was a mystery that was never to be resolved because we left.

 

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Day 38 - Fri, Oct 9. It was strange starting again, finding that despite our big leap, the new pilgrims we met viewed us as experienced hands. They were full of questions and wonderings. I was struck by how much we had learnt in a short period of time. As we walked, sharing and connecting, I was also delighting in the wet green of Galacia, which reminded me of being in the Himalayas during the monsoons.

As we walked past Belarado an old man waved us into what turned out to have been the site of a very old monastery (874 CE). I'm so pleased I paid attention to him. It was these moments that meant so much - the mass that I had been to the previous night with a small dedicated congregation of nuns & priests, the grace this man showed in his place of worship. A sense of age, time and dedication to seeking the mystery of what is beyond.

There was lots of stone fences and buildings, fertile vegetable gardens, cows and multiple small villages to delight in. We stopped gratefully at a welcoming cafe in Morgade and were able to get beds in a six bed dorm. We watched the passing parade, and found that, unexpectedly, we were seeing faces we had connected with in the earlier stages of our journey. An Italian man who we had first seen at our very first cafe stop on our first day of walking up the Pyrenees, at Hunto, stopped for lunch. The pilgrims carrying a cross and Mary statue we'd seen near Logrono passed by, still singing. Like the walking of a labyrinth, we had come together, parted and were passing again. Somehow our apparently random decision making was being supported by the universe.

 

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Day 39 - Sat, Oct 10. A quiet walk to Portomarin, enjoying meandering in quiet and solitude. We hadn't particularly wanted to stay at Portomarin, but our preference for a bed in Vilacha did not work out. After a distinctly disorienting walk across the high bridge into Portomarin we made our way up the road to Albergue Ultreia Portomarin - for no particular reason other than liking the name. We felt welcomed the moment we walked in the door, embraced by the owner's warmth, but unfortunately no bed.

However, this lovely woman made a point of finding somewhere else, and arranged accomodation at the Albergue Manuel for us. There we gratefully received a small private room with a shared bathroom.

That evening I sat at a table in the common area with people who seemed wrapped in their own family stories. I felt like a stranger who was somehow out of place and not seen. The easy engagement I usually experienced did not come together. My efforts to connect and join in just didn't seem to work. I don't know if they even realised I spoke English - there seemed to be a vast echoing space between us. And yet I felt at peace and accepting of this, quietly enjoying the minutiae of life with children.

 

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Day 40 - Sun, Oct 11. More walking in green passing productive vegetable gardens. People pass us, and we have lots of time alone. I'm loving the school groups. We arrived in Hospital de la Cruz, and the private hostal we went to directed us to the Xunta Albergue. We weren't sure what that was all about, but what we found was a clean, well organised place.

And from this strange juxtaposition of unplanned accommodation we met someone who was to become a precious friend. I was curled up on our bunk, warming up in my sleeping bag and she came, sat down and started talking with my beloved, while I tried to hide in sleep. But she really wanted to engage. She really wanted to know about us, and understand what made us who we were. I was puzzled, why us out of everyone? And yet her interest seemed really genuine.

We went and shared a meal with her and others, valuing again a communal sense of pilgrim time. We talked and talked, and shared and reflected. And I'm still taken aback by the mystery of what brought this together, that I just wasn't seeking out. It was such an unexpected engagement at this particular time of our camino, like gigantic waves of oceanic force saying - pay attention - what you are is important.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 41 - Mon, Oct 12. We left in the dark, in mist and rain. We were quiet and present to what was. We had spent many years together, mellowing with time, and this walk together had further deepened that connection. We sustained and held each other in good times and in challenging times. We were there for each other.

We walked slowly and carefully, stopping in cafes enjoying the warmth and the dry. We filled our pockets with fallen chestnuts. Walking into Palas de Rei we were both drawn to the Igleisa de San Tirso, where a crowd was gathering, with lots of people in uniform. We followed them in and joined the crowded service in our pilgrim garb. It seemed like it was some sort of recognition of these people in uniform, but we had no real idea of what was going on.

Afterwards we found beds at the Albergue San Marcos just beside the church. A lovely clean modern room, and a place that filled with large groups of students later in the day. We were ravenous and discovered a cafe with "American burgers and fries" - which we wolfed down. They tasted so good.

I connected up with our companion from the night before. She was on a pilgrimage to get guidance about her family situation. She wanted answers and was using her long standing connection with the Catholic church and a short pilgrimage from Sarria, to wrestle with what to do and seek some resolution and clarity. She wanted to know and understand the values by which we lived our lives as we sat together over our hot chocolate. I experienced a quiet depth of understanding and knowledge, accompanied by an unexpected sense of wisdom, arising from the challenges and struggles we had faced over the years. It somehow made all we had been through worthwhile. Together we went to the evening mass and sat together in grace enjoying the music.

 

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Day 42, Tues Oct 13. The poignant smell of eucalyptus, and the spacious gothic chapels their high canopies create, accompanied our walk today. We still found chestnuts & oak trees, but gradually the landscape was opening out, with wide blue skies & heathers. Arriving at Furelos, just before Melide, we crossed over an old stone bridge and arrived at a small cafe tucked into a corner on our left.

We stopped for our familiar rite of "agua sin gas", "cervesa sin alcohol", "aqua con gas" and orange juice.. My beloved decided he wanted to try the pulpe (octopus) that was advertised on the blackboard menu. I wasn't too enamoured with the idea, but helped myself to some from his plate. Well before I knew it we had eaten the whole plate - it was absolutely delicious, beautifully prepared.

We made our way into Melide, passing shops which were loaded with the accoutrements of cooking pulpe. I found it all quite off-putting. However, we persisted on and located a room to ourselves at the Pension Berenguela. I'm not sure what got lost in translation, but somehow it seemed that the owner thought my beloved was asking her to come and join us in bed! Very confusing stuff.

Going out to take a look around we bumped into our camino sister within minutes, who we hadn't seen all day. Orange juice was not enough though, and after yesterday's hamburgers I wanted pizza tonight. Filling my face with Italian food we kept talking about all the permutations and challenges of relationships, and how to be true to oneself and one's beliefs. A circuit of lifetimes of thinking, reflecting and considering. I was fascinated by the clarity of the values I had come to consider were important.

 

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Day 43 - Wed, Oct 14. We took a rest day in Melide. We used it to explore the streets of the old town, visit the Iglesia de Sancti Spirtus, investigate the small multi-storied museum, and sit quietly in a chapel called Capela de San Antonio. Later in the afternoon we wandered a short way along the camino to another chapel called the Capela de Carme. It was closed, but we sat on the garden benches beside it, looking out over the town. We were at ease, peace filled and calm, deeply connected and blessed by the grace of this place. We felt in harmony with all. Our experience of this holy site was an especially clear & precious stone to put with the memories we had been collecting.

 

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Day 44 - Thurs, Oct 15. The Iglesias de Santa Maria - used by Templars, an 1100 yr old altar, a stone baptismal font. Blue skies. Green grass. Walking in peace. A red breasted robin singing his heart out. Yellow blossom. A woman knitting at her stall with her dog. Sitting in cafes. Meeting people we hadn't seen since Granon. Creeks with clear, cool, running water. Snapshots of contentment.

Arriving in Arzua to stay at the Albergue de Arzua - stone walls, a lovely courtyard, hot showers, and good clothes washing facilities. Bunkbeds pushed together so we have a shared bottom bunk. This is Galicia.

 

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Day 45 - Fri, Oct 16. Small towns, stone fences, & lunch at a stone slab table - we continued on our way. We hunted for "Pension The Way" in Brea but it seemed to be closed, as was the private albergue in Santa Irene. Then a pilgrim called down from a balcony inviting us into the Albergue de Peregrines Santa Irene - another Xunta facility. He tells us it's a really good place and we are welcomed in.

Again, the place is clean, with hot showers, & good washing facilities out the back, with the additional touch of stables for horses. Again, the comfortable bunk beds were pushed together so we could share a bottom one. There were even individual lights and power points for each bed. These Xunta albergues have been good with the facilities they provide - well set up to minimise bed-bugs and provide a good standard of basic comfort. However, I've been missing the quirkiness and communality of the parochial albergues. I've also been missing attending mass, and being part of that type of pilgrim connectedness.

We make our way up to the cafe bar, order a meal and share our table with others. Then my beloved notices some Frangelico liquor on the shelf. I'd been asking for some after a sudden craving the night before and here it was. I think the main appeal was the pilgrim-like friar shaped bottle, and it was a lovely touch of being provided for in the blended ease of these passing days. We are in an ongoing state of peaceful joy - light, calm, harmonious and attuned. The days blend and we are being present to what is.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 46 - Sat, Oct 17. We again walked though tall, cathedral like eucalypt forests and along paths that made us wonder about the millions of footsteps that had passed this way before. We stopped at the cafe in Amenal - taking pleasure in seeing familiar faces. Going past the end of an airport runway made it seem real that we were getting close to a big city. I'd had thoughts of stopping in Lavacolla, but my beloved seemed keen to keep going.

The thought that Lavacolla had been a place where people had a final cleansing before their final walk into Santiago de Compostela, had appealed to me, but I thought this would somehow not occur for me with us moving on. Then an "angel" appeared, an elderly gentleman with a dog, standing beside a spout of flowing water going into the stream. He gestured to me, and I had my symbolic wash. I was somehow the participant in an ancient and significant ritual, and felt truly blessed.

Shortly after this we began climbing. My beloved then revealed that his left shin had started hurting shortly after Amenal, while going downhill. He'd been hoping it would come right, but instead the pain was getting more & more intense. He wanted to continue and when I wanted to stop for a break at Vilamaior he carried on, a first in the whole camino. We connected up later, but then separated again.

My beloved found his way to an albergue at Monte de Goza, but when I went to the parochial albergue run by Dutch volunteers, they had no idea who I was talking about. We eventually connected at the Xunta albergue, which is massively huge, and in classic Xunta style is clean with all the basics in place. Turned out my beloved was beside himself with pain, and had just kept focused on getting to where we were going, whatever it took.

After this, I went back to the massive monument on the hill, spent time studying the murals, and then was still & quiet in the small chapel of San Marcos, appreciating the sense of arrival, and the presence of Mary in this place.

However, my quiet time was intruded on by being followed in & followed out. I was swarmed by men while I stamped my credential outside. Suddenly I realised this was the experience of a woman on her own, possibly flattering, but mainly very disconcerting. Someone asked if I was married, and they all disappeared to my yes. It was something I hadn't had to deal with at any other point of the camino, probably protected by the presence of my beloved.

That evening we made our way to a restaurant, meeting in the dark by chance a pilgrim from our home state, who had developed a food app I had on my phone. Another woman joined us. They had both walked from SJPdP but not met, and thus was created an evening of special connections on our last night before Santiago

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 47, Sun Oct 18. We approached Santiago de Compostela in early morning light. My beloved was finding walking challenging, but we slowly & gently persisted. Like so many others we arrived at the cathedral to the sound of bagpipes and tears streamed down my cheeks. This little square beside the cathedral touched me unexpectedly.

We passed through the tunnel under the Pazo de Xelmirez and entered the plaza. It was raining and my imaginings that I would lie back, look at the cathedral and take it all in were not to be!! Plus my beloved's shin pain was getting more & more extreme. We made our way around to the pilgrim's office and lined up for our compostelas. Our camino diners from the night before were there too. They had partnered up and walked down together - wanting to share this moment with someone. Others who we had passed time with were there too.

Then it was into a very, very crowded cathedral. It turned out to be a special celebration of some sort, with a crowd of young people with significant disabilities and their support people, who had completed the 100 km walk, being given space and honour. I was crowded in with them, and together gazed up at the swinging botafumeiro. We soared with it in awe, watching the smoke and flames, and gasping as it swung towards us. I couldn't have planned or imagined a more significant way to share this magical experience.

That evening I went back to the cathedral, where I connected with our friend who we'd met in Palas de Rei. She'd been to Finnesterre, and was moving onto a retreat in Bosnia. Somehow the universe timed us being able to share this one mass together in SdC & an evening alone. We wandered down streets together, loving our connection. She introduced me to the wonderful Malak Bistro where I indulged in amazingly delicious food, that seemed filled with love. And we talked, and talked, and talked .............

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 48 - Mon, Oct 19. This morning we awoke slowly at our albergue - The Last Stamp - relishing the late check-out. We headed off to our next bed at the Hotel Residencia Costa Vella. We had been told by a woman we met at the restaurant in our hotel in Burgos that this was a special place to stay, and it was. We had a delightful attic bedroom, and the cafe bar overlooking the garden was something special.

My beloved wanted to stay low recuperating, so I had the city to myself. I went to the mid-day mass at the cathedral, experiencing it all from another angle. Then I had the joy of meeting up with my massage angel from Torres del Rio who had just been to Finesterre. My dream of walking to Finesterre seemed to be on hold, and she gave me other ideas to explore. We connected, and shared, and talked, and talked, and talked ........ She introduced me to a camino book that became important for me in the week ahead - Redemption Road by Brendan McManus. Yet another blessed meeting timed to perfection with a very special lady.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 49 - Tues, Oct 20. Today we decided that we would go to Finisterre by tour bus, and stay there for seven days. A way to continue our camino in our own unique way, that fitted my long held dream of going there as part of my camino, and yet still looked after my beloved and the physical pain he was in. I wanted books for this new plan, and so found my way to a bookshop I'd read about on this forum that had some in English! - Liberia Follas Novas at Rua do Vilar, 68. I descended to their lowest floor and indulged myself perusing possibilities to escape into.

I spent the afternoon reflecting on my camino with Katherine from Camino Companions & one other pilgrim. This was a precious three hours that was nourishing and healing. As I journaled, pondering about the camino I had just done, and the camino of my life that was ahead, I wrote the following

Quietly step - feel the way - don't plan too far ahead. Take the step that is in front of me. The way will unfold unexpectedly, differently - it will unfold as it is.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 50, Wed, Oct 21. Our tour bus took us to the beautiful Muxia. We were then driven to the lighthouse of Finisterre. We stood beside the 0.0 km marker with the sun in our eyes, relaxed and proud. The person who commented in a loud voice about people who get a photo taken without even walking up the hill did not know our story.

My beloved waited while I clambered down the rocks to see this place. As I climbed back up a voice called hello, but once again I had the sun in my eyes. It took me a while to realise that this was a special Danish woman we had connected with in Zabaldico. We'd slept beside each other, talked & dreamed, but not exchanged contact details, and here we were meeting at the end of the world. It was perfect.

After a fresh seafood meal on the waterfront, we caught a taxi to our retreat - the Hotel Alen do Mar. Our bedroom looked out at the beach that pilgrims walk along before arriving in Finisterre. What a precious blessing - we were still part of the camino. I walked down, and, barefoot, stepped onto the sand and into the sea, joyful and happy, my own arrival at this special place. Sitting on our balcony I meditated and watched the moon - at peace.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 51 - Thurs, Oct 22. I'd been itching to get back on the road, so today I went by myself back towards Santiago along the Finisterre Camino, getting to Estorde. The sky was blue and the sea inviting. When I wasn't walking, I sat in quiet on sandy beaches. This was my chance to experience being on my own. I came to appreciate how much ease had been created by walking together - finding the route and looking out for each other. Yet being on my own had its own sense of spaciousness and freedom.

As I walked back I went a bit off route in Sardineiro. Getting back on I rounded a corner, and there - our two dining colleagues from our night at Monte del Gozo, just before arriving in Santiago de Compostela. A blessing received from the universe and a reminder of how we are interconnected.

Later that afternoon we caught a taxi up to the lighthouse. People were gathering -waiting. We found our spot on the rocks and as the sun set into the sea a didgeridoo played - perfectly timed. Afterwards we walked our way down the hill in moonlight. Unfortunately for my poor beloved there was not an available taxi to be found. We should have pre-booked.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 52 - Thurs Oct 23. We spent the day together in silence - appreciating the solitude. I used this quiet time to explore the Ignatian spirituality processes of examen & discernment - inspired by Brendan McManus' book. These days in Finisterre have been as much a part of our camino as the rest, reflecting, stopping, and being part of this land and this place. It's been different to what I had anticipated before our camino, but somehow even more precious. A spacious being present to what is, accepting, with a soul at peace. Yet again I feel deeply blessed.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 53 - Fri, Oct 24. A quiet day of reading and sleeping. We walked two km along our beach to find a meal. On the way there were lots of scallop shells and I searched for the one that felt right to take home with a sense of participating in a very old ritual. The restaurant we were heading to was Tiro do Cordel where we had a fabulous seafood meal, enjoying the delicious razor clams.

While we sat dining a face peered in the window at us and waved enthusiastically, - we were still on the Camino! We hardly recognised this young woman. We'd met her in our hotel at breakfast the day we left SdC. She hadn't been on a camino before and had lots of questions for us before she departed. Now here she was - a different person in just a few days - her heart filled with joy & delight.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 54, Sat Oct 25. This time of being completely stopped is what I'm needing. The cells of my body need to rest and restore. This was not what I expected, but the last few years have been very demanding, and I go back to something similar. Today I indulge in one of the novels I bought in SdC, reading, snoozing, eating, and reading some more. Looking out from our room I still cannot believe the perfectness of where we are - quiet, sea, sky, and being with the joy of pilgrims arriving at this beach. The wisdom of the gentle guidance of events that led us here warms my heart. I'm not walking today, but somehow we are still on our camino.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 55, Sun Oct 26. My beloved decided he was willing to have a go at walking again today. The shin splint he had developed shortly before arriving in SdC seemed to be improving. It was a misty, drizzly day as we set off for Finisterre. It was so good to be back on the road together. We walked along our beach again - the Playa Latngosteira, through the old town of Finisterra, and up to the lighthouse. Then we climbed further up to explore the rest of Monte Facho.

There was hardly anyone else around, and everything was muted, quiet & mysterious in the mist, despite the radio mast and roads. This felt like the real Finisterre - steeped in places of worship. We tried to find the moving Abalar stones, and ruins of the old hermitage that San Guillermo built, but were unsuccessful. Somehow this maintained a meaningful sense of mystery, and I felt particularly moved when I climbed one set of rocks and found a small pool hewn in the top, like an ancient place of blessing. As I dipped my fingers in the water, and touched my head and face with it, I seemed to be joining with women since time immemorial who had participated in rituals such as this.

We continued walking, exploring the amazing rocks, and gazing out at the blue-grey sea. Then we clambered our way back down to Finisterre by a very circuitous route. A local cafe provided a very welcome oasis of shelter and warmth. Then the lovely hosts of our hotel picked us up to take us back "home".

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 56, Mon, Oct 27. Another quiet day at our beachside retreat. Delving further into examen & discernment. Appreciating space & silence. Experiencing a quality and presence of wordlessness. Thankful for being able to have this time.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 57 - Tues, Oct 28. Back to SdC today, travelling there by rejoining the tour we had left a week ago. Because of using this way of leaving Finisterre we were able to see the longest horreo in Galacia. I fell for these storage places, designed to keep the rain & mice out, and yet be well ventilated. The intricacy of their design appealed. Slatted holes specially slanted & shaped to look after the contents. I'd like one in our backyard.

Arriving back in SdC we stayed in our attic bedroom at Costa Vella. I headed off to mass and saw another swing of the botofumeiro. This past week had been an unexpected addition to our camino experience, giving me a sense of solitude, reflection & integration that I needed. I was ready to start our journey home with an appreciation of so many simple aspects of our familiar life.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 58 - Wed, Oct 29. Our leaving day. We woke, packed our backpacks, had a final breakfast in the beautiful cafe at our hotel, and then boarded a taxi to take us to the station. I had become unexpectedly attached to this city, and was pleased that we travelled slower than a walking pace so I could keep absorbing its streets, its buildings, its essence. Sitting waiting for our train we watched pilgrims arriving and pilgrims leaving. I still had my shell on my backpack, and felt deeply connected to these strands of humanity congregating in this place.

Our time on this way had been different to the pilgrimage experience that I had expected. I had not thought we would be doing this together when I first felt called so many years ago. The reality of doing it together had tested us, and created more strands to the bond we share. Our relationship of many years had been mellowed, deepened, and strengthened. The significance of being kind and being a companion had come to mean much more. Somehow, the gentle, persistent presence of this camino in our lives for all these days had changed us. This was what we were taking into the days ahead.

What I didn't know on this day was that there was a final unexpected grace note to come in three days.

 

[Dancing Rain]

Day 61 - Sun, Nov 1. We had decided to spend our last few days in Spain visiting Barcelona, both keen to see Gaudi's works of architecture. However, once in Spain Montserrat began calling. So on this day, which was - All Saints Day, our wedding anniversary, a Sunday, and our last day in Europe, we made our way to these amazing rock formations and its associated monastery. La Sagrada Familia seemed like echoes of the presence of these.

As we walked towards the basilica, our guide suddenly stopped and pointed down. There in the pavement was a scallop shell. This man, who we had just met, had walked his camino from here. I had had no idea that this particular route existed. Connections of beginnings and endings flooded through me.

The basilica was filled with vast throngs of people as we listened to the pure voices of the boys choir. After the mass most people departed quickly, but I stayed and moved to sit near the front, gazing up and absorbed by a black madonna who had been discovered so long ago. Somehow, I had this vast space virtually to myself. I felt involved with something very special and was deeply touched by it.

On leaving I went to bless myself with water from the font. Another woman and I somehow connected wordlessly in the spaciousness of this experience, which stayed as we both lit candles. My beloved was waiting patiently and I went to join him. We both moved silently to stand in a circle at the centre of the quadrangle, looking at each other. This was an experience that marked an unexpected and very special final note for this camino.