Parting Shot

Before we left, I was reading a book about the Camino in which the author was going on at length about "being in the moment." He related a story about how he had completed the first half of the hike up the Pyranees when he realized that he had not been paying attention to his surroundings, but had instead been fretting about a problem at home. After consulting with the group with whom he was travelling, it was agreed that he should walk back down the mountain and start again the next day as he needed to get himself "into the moment." And I did not think "Wow, what an inspiration" - I thought "Wow, what an idiot".

I have always used my hiking time to think. I´ve thought about past problems, I´ve plotted out business strategy, I´ve pulled together shopping lists - a hike is simply a great time to sort things out. But I really didn´t think about much of anything on the Camino. In spite of myself, I have to admit that it kept me pretty much in the moment. The thing about walking the Camino is that everyday it slaps you way down on Maslow [Remember Maslow´s Hierarchy of Needs? He stated that if you are deprived of basic needs such as food and shelter, your brain will be totally focused on filling this void and you won´t be able to focus on things like intellectual and emotional growth.] Every morning you get up and don´t know what is ahead of you - what the trail will be like, what new aches and pains will emerge, where you will sleep, what you will eat. This is especially true for the first couple of days. I was totally absorbed in making sure that we saw every waymarker, lest we get off the trail and end up in Sweden. When we hit a village, I scoured every face to see if the locals were friendly, or hostile or indifferent. I looked at every little shop to see what kinds of things they had to sell. When we were walking by the farms, I looked for familiar foods. My mind just took in everything around me. What happened five years ago, or will happen six months from now, was irrelevant. And it was very peaceful. I finally understood the concept of "being in the moment." As the days went by and I began to have more faith that we would be provided for, I opted to keep myself in the moment. I just observed what was in front of me, listening to the rhythm of my breath and Mark´s footfall by my side. I can honestly say that I spent of month on the road and didn´t think about a damn thing.

On the Camino, you learn that it doesn´t really take that much to move up on Maslow. After all of those years of absolutely insisting on a non-smoking, king room with wi fi and not near the elevator, I realized that I really don´t need all of that. I will never forget pulling into the albergue in Hornillos at 5:00 and being told that there were no more beds but that we could have a matress on the floor. I was elated! Not only did we not have to walk another 6 miles to the next town, but the room with mattresses only held five people, so it was better than the crowded dormitory. Life doesn´t have to be so complicated - you can be happy with very simple things.

The other thing about being on the Camino is that everyone is equal. It doesn´t matter how much education or money you have. You don´t get treated any differently because you have accrued an inordinate number of frequent flyer miles or platinum cards. Everybody experiences the same highs and lows. There are moments of true elation and tremendous pain. And your fellow travellers can see what kind of day you have and will empathize because they have been there too. There are people from all over the world on the Camino with different political points of view, different religions, and vastly divergent lifestyles. But on the Camino, you focus on the common experience - not the differences - and you feel a deep kinship with each other. As one hospitaliero told us, his greatest joy is watching 20 strangers come together for a meal every night and become "a family of the moment." I really think we ought to consider strapping backpacks on our Congressmen and White House officials and sending them out on the Camino together for a month. We´d be a better nation! (I´m leaving the Supreme Court out of this because, quite frankly, they´re pretty frail, the trip is rigorous and I don´t want to give Bush anymore appointments).

I´m a great believer in Life Lessons and since you have all hung in there for this long blog, I´ll share my Camino lesson but spare all of the details. The lesson I learned over and over again on this trip was that I really need to slow down. I have spent the better part of my life in a business where we were consistently being asked to move faster. I spent long hours trying to move as quickly as I could and I pushed those around me to do the same. What I didn´t get was that, while this is the right thing for business, it´s not necessarily applicable to other parts of your life. There are too many precious moments you miss when you´re going at 90 MPH. There are so many opportunities to enjoy, learn and share that you lose when you go too fast. The true winner in life is not the person who gets there first, but the person who gets there with a smile on their face. For those of you who know me well, you may be smiling. Quite clearly, I´ve got my work cut out to get my self to slow down but at least I´m aware of the goal.

Tomorrow we take off for Morocco for a week and then home to Boulder. We really want to thank you for taking the time to read the blog, and especially those who posted comments and sent us e-mail. It was such a joy for us to hear from you. We´ll post some more pictures when we get home. Until then, Buen Viaje.

In the moment

When you walk, and keep walking, you get into a different zone. Like a long backpack-- you can't just take yourself there as it takes several days and a routine that gets you to "in the moment".The first few days you are still giving up the normal 21st century world and you adopt and appreciate getting to a simpler world.

We realize how little we really need, and how liberating it is to give up the big city and most of the "modern luxuries" and enjoy a simpler yet perhaps more essential environment. Auditory and olefactory senses are peaked. Walking by different plants and fruits you really notice the changes. The power of observation takes over. We stop thinking of all the little details of life at home, world news and in one sense go very low on Maslov`'s hierarchy but also realize that it does not take much to get to wonderful thoughts and observations of what you are experiencing around you. This is life in the moment.

Walking 20-35 KM or 12-22 miles a day seems like a lot but it goes by very quickly and not sure where it comes or goes but is incredibly pleasant-- I often remind Joanna that we need to take a break or she might walk 20km without stopping. We find it interesting that we have so much to talk about even though we are walking side by side.The simple things "in the moment" include our end of the day routine of arriving at an Albergue taking a nice warm shower and then a hand wash of our clothes. Much of it is not different from a pilgrim of 400 years ago--yet with our modern footwear we can cover more ground in a day (some may say that the slower pace had its advantages) and our modern fibers dry quicker than cotton and woolen vestments. We stay in Albergues instead of a church like a mideval walker. But in the end of the day, both the modern or medieval pilgrim, cover the ground and enjoy the sights. One of our favorite times of the day is early morning. We are so far west in the time zone (actually about the same longitude as Greenwich but in Centeral Europe time for those that track these items). We start walking by headlamp. It is only light enough to turn off the headlamp at about 8:10 am and the sun breaks the horizon around 9am. We watch the colors change from the dark of night (if we are lucky with wonderful stars- not fog) to the predawn pinks and yellows. These are some of the in the moment memories with no other cares in the world.

We realize that there is another world out there but for now most of the day we suspend it. It takes a while to get there but it is a wonderous place to be.

Good Morning Santiago!

Believe it or not, we strolled into Santiago at about 10:00 this morning! This last week has been just crazy. For starters, when we came out of the mountains we transitioned from Castillo y Leon´s sweeping wheat fields to Galicia, which has a rich Gallic tradition and actually does look a lot like Ireland. It seems like over night we moved from endless flat plains to grassy fields full of livestock and beautiful country lanes shaded by chestnut and apple trees. The farmers in Galicia make liberal use of the Camino to move their cows from the pasture to the barn for milking. We have had so many close encounters with cows that I´ve actually learned that if you and a cow are on a collision course and you stare the cow straight in the eye, the cow will move over to make room for you. I´m not sure how I´m going to use this information, but it will undoubtedly come in handy at some point. I am also really glad that this methodology worked because there were cows on both my left and right and I had no where to go . . . and those are really big animals!
The other major change in Galicia has been the number of people on the Camino. To get a Compostella (the certificate from the church that you walked the Camino), you only need to walk the last 100 km (60 miles). The 100 km marker is right after you come down the mountain. So we emerged from this etheral experience of tranquil mountain mist and quiet hiking into busloads (and I mean busloads) of tourists doing the shorter walk. They ranged from Swiss school children to a herd of British geriatrics. And unlike the cows, they will not move out of your way no matter how hard you stare them down! The restaurants and albergues were overrun! Not too worry - it didn´t take long to figure out that their sheer numbers limited their stays to the larger cities so we just adjusted our itinerary to stay in the smaller places. And we had such a great time. When you read about Galicia, the adjectives most often used are things like "stormy" and "rain sodden." But we hit a high pressure front and walked to Santiago under beautiful blue skies and moderate temperatures. What a fantastic finish!
And I can´t tell you it felt to walk into Santiago and end up at the Cathedral. It´s a national holiday in Spain and the city is full of people. The square was alive with pilgrims, tourists, and families out enjoying the beautiful weather. There were street musicians and performers everywhere. As we walked through the square, we ran into so many of our Camino friends, everyone excited to have reached Santiago and to see each other one last time. It was just one big, tremendous party. Both Mark and I got teary as we walked through that square.
I got a little wistful watching as the pilgrims began to mainstream into the crowd. A couple of people had sent traveling clothes to Santiago, and to see them in blue jeans and street shoes looking just like any other traveller was a little sad, as we all shared this special identity over the past month.
As we got down to the last few days of the trip, we noticed two different types of behavior. Some people were pushing hard to get to Santiago because they just wanted to be done. Others were slowing down to savor their last few days. Mark and I were torn - we were feeling strong and liked putting in the 20 mile days but we didn´t really want it to end. So we´ve decided not to stop! There´s another 54 mile route that takes you from Santiago to the ocean. It´s called the Camino Finisterra (translation: End of the Earth) because back in the 14th Century, this really was the end of the known land. Since we´re in a week early, we decided to take the three days to walk it. Between you and me, this was really more of Mark´s idea. I had envisioned spending the free time sitting in a cafe wearing comfortable shoes with a good book and an unending flow of cafe con leche. But he has his heart set on it and the weather is so beautiful . . . so I´m game. I did, however, negotiate an early termination option. I promised to walk the first day, but if anytime after that I exhibit any signs of potential physical and/or mental breakdown (or it starts raining), I have the option to hop on a bus and meet him there. Hopefully this won´t be necessary, but it´s always good to have options!
Mark thinks he has the photos figured out so look for some pictures. We´ll post one more time when we get back.

Follow the Yellow Arrow

The Camino is really a patchwork of paths crossing Spain. Sometimes we´re on dirt paths winding through vineyards, other times we´re on sidewalks in crowded cities, and sometimes it´s led us up onto the asphalt of very busy roads. You figure out where to go by following the waymarkers, which vary from ancient stone stele with a carving of a scallop shell in rural areas, to brass shells embedded in the sidewalk in the nicest parts of the big cities, to government-produced blue and yellow traffic signs showing the silouhette of a hiker and a scallop shell. By far, the most common marker are arrows that have been spray painted on whatever surface is available, pointing you in the right direction. We´ve seen them on old stone walls, trees, curbs - everywhere you can think of! For the first couple of days, we would point them out to each other, excited each time we saw one. Now that we´re old pros, we almost don´t need the markers. You can begin to intuit which way the Camino will curve, and the arrows are nice to see but basically a non-event. The one thing you can be sure of - if you´re going through a city, no matter what size, the Camino will take you past the Catholic church. It doesn´t aim to minimize the kilometers you need to walk - you´re feet are expendable and it will go out of its way to take you to a very small town if there´s a church to be seen!
Now, for those of you who are data driven, here are a few statistics. On this trip, we´ll pass through over 150 cities, ranging in population from two to 180,000. But the median population is a little south of 200. That´s an awful lot of very small towns. Before arriving, I was most excited to see the most famous sites in the towns like Pamplona and Leon. But I´ve gotten to the point where I dread big cities. When you´re used to rural areas, it´s pretty oppressive to walk into a city. It seems outrageously noisy, the cars pollute the air and the sidewalks are so hard on your feet. And it takes hours to walk through the industrial sprawl to get to the sites in the city center that you´ve seen in the books. So you really begin to cherish the days where you´re on dirt paths walking through the countryside and you´re very grateful that the Camino still takes you through those very small towns.
When we hit our first couple of hamlets in Navarra I was amazed at the shape that they were in. Most of them were founded in the 10th or 11th century. They generally have one main street lined with really old stone townhouses in various states of repair (disrepair?). There´s always a church and a bar or two, and more abandoned buildings than occupied ones. If there´s an albergue in town, there will be somewhere for the pilgrims to get a meal and often a little store. I kept telling Mark that Spain is ripe for flipping property as there seems to be a lot of inventory for sale, but he rightly pointed out that you could definately renovate here, but selling them may be a different story!
The one thing you notice as you walk through these villages is how friendly the people are. They always say hello and often wish you a ¨Buen Camino¨ as you walk by. If you are lost at a crossroad in the early morning dark, they will stop to point you in the right direction. The shop owners let you come in and use the facillities with a smile, even if you aren´t buying anything. I can´t tell you how wonderful they have been. And over time, we´ve come to really enjoy these seemingly dead towns. We happily walk a couple of extra miles to escape the towns of two or three thousand in order stay to an albergue in a small town.
The other night, we had dinner with a couple from Majorca. They were doing the Camino a week at a time over a couple of years and were talking about how much these small towns seemed to be growing! They also said that the albergues and small pensions that now dot the Camino remind them of how Majorca was when they were growing up. They told us that Majorca is now dominated by large hotels and upscale B&B´s, their implication being that if the Camino keeps attracting more people, this is the way the Camino will go. This was a pretty hard concept to wrap our minds around given what we´d seen which didn´t seem to be a lot of growth given that the Camino has been around for 1,200 years! But there may be something to their argument. While we´ve been walking, we´ve met Pilgrims on bikes and motorcycles. We´ve seen Pilgrims who pay to get their backpacks transported between towns, and now that we´re nearing Santiago, we´re seeing busloads of Pilgrims who walk a few choice miles each day but mostly ride. We´ve met Pilgrims who don´t stay in albergues, opting for private rooms in pensions.
We bought the 2007 edition of a guidebook and have been surprised by how many more albergues and pensions have been in some of the small towns than were listed by our guide, most of them opening up in the last six months. And that makes sense. The towns may be small but they have over 100,000 people walking through their backyard. There is definately money to be made. And it´s wonderful to enter a small town after a hot dusty section and see the red tables, chairs and umbrellas outside of a cafe signaling that this is a nice place for a cold drink, a little something to eat and a little rest for your feet.
But from our perspective, we really hope that the Camino preserves its ancient roots, focusing on the countryside and small towns, and doesn´t become a really long tourist trap. We´ll see.
One more quick note, Grant Dodson, if you´re out there, you are one of the few people who can tolerate my rambling stories. I´ve got one that´s way too long to blog - it involves a Spanish vegetarian (rare thing), a pot-smoking mountain hermit and some Woo Woo salve that they gave us for Mark´s shin splint. If you and Sui come back to Boulder, we´ll pop open a bottle of La Rioja and spend the evening telling you the story!

On The Road Again!

Well, we´re into day two of the Post Shin Splint part of the trip and all is well. Yesterday, we decided to try our usual 15 miles and stopped when we reached our designated end point, even though the village wasn´t very pretty. Mark was having no aches or pain, and we didn´t want to push our luck. As it turns out, this was a very good decision! The albergue we stopped at had the regulation large dormitory room laden with bunk beds, but it also had about 12 rooms with only two beds. Since we were one of the first pilgrims to arrive, we were offered one of the private rooms, which we snapped at. We did our wash and had just hung it out to dry when the sky opened up. It had been spitting on us most of the day, enough to bring out the pack covers and the jacket, but not enough for the rain pants. About an hour after we stopped, however, there was an absolute downpour. This is very bad news for our fellow travellers still on the road and deadly for our poor clothes hanging on the line. But miracle of miracles, it turns out the the albergue had a clothes dryer (very rare) and that the dryer actually worked (almost unheard of). I cna´t tell you how happy we were. The Pilgrim´s Dinner started at 7:00 so we were able to eat early and get ready for bed. Since we had total control over the lighting situation in the room, it was lights out before 9:30 and we slept solidly until Mark´s alarm went off at 6:00. It´s amazing how tired we were after a relatively normal walk after our slovenly Leon lifestyle!
Today we had one of the best walks of the trip so far. The sun finally broke through and we had lovely weather most of the day. The temperature was warm, but without the humidity that we had in the beginnning of the trip. The sky was a deep, fall blue with large, puffy, Georgia O´Keefe clouds in the sky. We walked on a beautiful path through some really spectacular villages. We´re walking considerably more slowly than we did before the shin splint episode and, in a way, it´s better because we´re taking more time to enjoy the scenery. We logged 21 miles, pulling in at around 4:00, again no aches, pains, blisters or ancillary swelling.
There is a long line for the internet so this is all I´m going to write. Just wanted everyone to know that we´re back on the road and in good health. We´re heading back up to the mountains tomorrow and probably won´t have internet access for a couple of days. We´ll post again as soon as we can!

Cuisine de Camino

I´ve had a couple of e-mails from people asking about the food situation on the trip, so while we´re still hunkered down in Leon with this very nice internet connection, it´s a good time to tackle this one. It´s amazing how this trip brings you down to the basics: can I move myself from Point A to Point B, will I find a place to sleep and a take a hot shower and will I find anything to eat? That´s pretty much the daily agenda. So far, all has been well on the food front. Unlike most of Spain, dinner is the big meal for the pilgrims. When you´re reading up for the trip, you don´t find a whole lot of kind words for Franco with one exception - he instituted a law to protect pilgrims from financial exploitation by the local shopkeepers. If a town is going to provide sleeping accomodations for the pilgrims, it also has to provide reasonably priced meals. As a result, every town that has an albergue has somewhere that´s offering a Pilgrim´s Menu. It´s a three course meal, including bread and red wine, that costs about 10€ ($14). Sometimes it´s offered by the albergue, sometimes by a taverna or restaurant; sometimes everybody sits at one long table, sometimes they have multiple tables for four; sometimes you´re asked to help cook, sometimes the meal is served; sometimes you´re handed a menu, sometimes you eat what´s placed in front of you. But regardless of the form, a hot meal is always welcome at the end of a long day. The first course is usually a mixed salad (lettuce, tomato, tuna, onion and corn - that has been so consistent I suspect that it was embedded in Franco´s legislation!), or a bowl of soup. The second course is meat or fish almost always in the form of a stew or grilled with a side of patatas fritas. The last course is some type of dessert: ice cream, a piece of fruit or a slice of flan. The food is very simple - no sauces or sides. The wine is local and rustic and wonderful! And the funny thing is that you don´t really get tired of the food, even though you mostly eat the same thing every night. You´re so glad to be able to sit in a warm place and compare notes with the other travellers, that it always tastes absolutely delicious. Dinner is a little celebration every night.
You may note that there isn´t a lot of vegetable action going on with dinner. Unless you get the salad, you won´t get anything green and crunchy. For that reason, Mark and I have been packing picnic lunches to eat during the day. Each night after taking a shower and washing our clothers, we go down to the local market and pick up next day´s lunch. For those of you who know Mark well, it won´t surprise you to learn that even in the smallest, one aisle market, Mark entices the shopkeeper into a lengthy discussion about what is the best produce or meat or cheese that they have to offer. He is in heaven with all of the chorizos, cured hams and pork loins and the wide variety of cheese. We´ve been pretty lucky in finding locally grown fruits and veggies and equally lucky in finding beautiful places along the Camino to serve as a backdrop for lunch. If you don´t want to carry the extra weight of a picnic, you can just buy a bocadillo (small sandwich) in the town that you hit closest to lunch.
By far, our favorite source of snacks has been the Camino itself. As we walked through Navarra and La Rioja, the Camino wound through vineyards, fields and gardens. There were plenty of fruit trees where we found plums, figs, and apples. We also scored several days of blackberry bushes just as the berries were hitting their peak. The grapes were plentiful and we tested the ´07 vintage pretty liberally. The one thing that really just about drove Mark over the edge was the red peppers. We literally walked along acres planted with peppers. They were just getting ready to harvest and truly looked delicious. But everytime we went to market, we couldn´t find them! Finally, Mark broke down and bought a jar of roasted peppers. You should have seen us - we fussed over them like a Frenchmen would a fresh truffle. We commented on the sublime smell, we examined their perfect color and finally we gushed over the exquisite taste. It wasn´t until after the meal, fully sated and examining the jar, that we discovered that the peppers had been imported from Peru!!!! Globalization hits the Camino.
Mark seems to have mended well so we´re going to hit the road again tomorrow. It´s cold and wet and we can´t wait to get out there again!

Houston, We Have a Problemo!

So remember Mark´s little shin splint that caused us to cut our day short on the last post? Well, he rested all afternoon and then we went to stroll around the town to see the sights. We were in Castrojertz, a very beautiful village with a population of about 1,000. About 10 minutes into our walk, Mark had to stop. He had apparently developed the monther of all shin splints. We went back to the albergue and started researching shin splints on the internet. While there was a diversity of opinion about whether to ice it, compress it or massage it, each site agreed that the most important thing to do was rest it. We went back and forth on whether to try to push on, walking shorter distances and more slowly, but when he stood up and put weight on the leg, we knew that we were done for. This was not an easy decision. We really want to walk every inch of the Camino and there was this terrible feeling of failure, plus a bigger fear that if we stopped, we wouldn´t ever start again. But, hey, he really couldn´t walk so we just had to put on our best faces and take a break.
After much discussion, we decided to leave Castrojertz and head onto Leon. The main thinking was that if we got waylaid for three or four days with nothing to do and nothing to read and feeling pretty depressed, we would do permanent damage to the marriage. Leon is the next big city, so there would be enough to keep me amused on the layover and a more comfortable place for Mark to rest. We asked the hospitaliero (albergue owner) about the bus and he told us that we could catch the 8:00 back to Burgos and from there, go on to Leon. So the next day, when all of our fellow travellers strapped on their packs and headed out for their day´s journey, Mark and I headed down to the town´s sole gas station to catch the bus. You´ve never seen two such dejected and sad souls as Mark and I as we got on that bus, exiled from the Camino!
Oddly enough, things got better in the Burgos bus station. First, we met a woman from Luxemberg who was catching a bus to Madrid. She told us she had gotten a shin splint, kept walking and burst a blood vessel. She went to a doctor who told her that she needed a minimum 10 days bed rest, so she was heading home to take care of herself. That at least confirmed that we were doing the right thing, despite the disappointment.
Next, we met two wonderful Australian woman. One was a working Mom from Tasmania. The other was a very flamboyant woman from Brisbayne (polka dot hat - you have to love it), who had lived all of the world with multiple husbands. She was telling me that she was loving the Camino although she really didn´t like to walk (huh???) and so they were basically doing the Camino via bus. Mark was talking to the lady from Tasmania and, bless her little heart, found out that she was a physiotherapist. She gracefully offered to take a look at his leg and said that if he really was careful, he could probably be back his feet in three to four days. She gave him a regimen to follow and wished us luck. We boarded the bus to Leon in considerably better spirits and decided that we really ought to try to make the best of being in Leon instead of beating ourselves up for having to interrupt the Camino.
When we arrived in early afternoon, the city had already shut down for siesta. We walked the half mile from the bus station to the information booth to get a map of the city and some clue on hotels, but it was closed. Mark was pretty much in agony at this point, so I went off to walk the neighborhood and try to find a hotel. Now let me be very honest that I have absolutely no linguistic skills. Despite clear intentions, my Spanish is basically non-existant, so unless the desk clerk is either bilingual or psychic, I can´t make myself understood, and on the rare occassion that I manage to string a couple of words together correctly, I have absolutely no idea what they are saying in response. I took my fractured Spanish to five hotels only to be told that there were no rooms available. I was totally frazzled when I finally found a room in a one-star hotel but for one night only. The kindest thing that I can say about the room was that it didn´t have bunk beds, but nonetheless, I was grateful to find something. I went back and got Mark, found some ice and we spent the afternoon icing down his shin.
At 5:30, we headed back to the information booth to get the map and figure out where we were going to stay for the rest of our time in Leon. I have to digress a little here because this is truly miraculous. Over the past two weeks, Mark has somehow learned Spanish. He knew a few words when we came over and totally hated the Spanish tapes that we had studied. But all of sudden, he´s speaking Spanish incredibly well. I´m sure his grammar is lacking, but we had dinner the other night with a man who only spoke Spanish and Mark engaged him in a conversation for a full three course meal. I don´t get it - it´s like he´s been touched by Berlitz. In any case, within an hour of leaving the information booth, he had managed to find a cozy room in a charming pension on a sun flooded square for the rest of the stay. He had also found me the English version of Anna Quindlen´s latest novel, had a lengthy consultation with a pharmacist en espanol on the benefits of ibuprofen versus feldene for a shin splint (600 mg of ibuprofen won out - less chance of stomach irritation), found an internet cafe and had purchased a large slice of local apple tarta for a bedtime snack. He´s the best person in the universe to travel with even when he´s totally gimpy! By 7:00 that evening, we were comfortably sitting with a beer in a cafe in front of the cathedral bathed in sunlight and watching the Friday night work crowd pour through the streets. He looked at me and said "It´s hard to believe that only 12 hours ago, we were so miserable standing in front on the gas station. Life seems pretty good now.¨ Point well taken - lesson learned.
So now it is Saturday afternoon. We have moved to our pension (corner room with five windows - score!) Mark is upstairs with a cold compress on his leg and has been off of his feet for most of the day. I´m sitting in the hotel bar with a cup of cafe con leche and a flat panel monitor (double score). We´ll see what happens with his leg. If it heals, we´re headed straight back to the Camino. If it´s not better by Monday or Tuesday, we´ll probably have to stop here and try to pick up the trip again next year. While we´re really hoping for the former, we also know that we´ve had a fantastic experience up to this point, and if we have to abort, it won´t be the end of the world. So if you have any good wishes to spare, please send them our way. I´ll let you know what happens!

The Spirit is Willing, But the Body . . .

It's a funny thing when you take a couple hundred highly enthusiastic, slightly neurotic hikers and tell them to go take a 500 mile hike. In the beginning, everyone is going all out, albeit at different speeds. Inevitably, however, everybody hits a wall. Doing a 15 mile hike isn't that big of deal for most of these folks, but after doing a 15 mile hike ten times in a row, the body starts to protest. The ace bandage has now become the fashion accessory of choice for those of us who started in France. We met several 30 something males (sorry to stereotype), who spoke of their intent to knock off the Camino in 25 days. We have been surprised to see each of them recently as they should be miles and miles ahead of us. But there they were, back in the pack with us, nursing various ailments.
Personally, I have been somewhat of a medical mess. After hiking 30 miles in my new boots before we left, they turned on me and I immediately had blisters on both heels. I've got tendonitis, an edema on my ankle and something funky going on with my knee, and that's just my left leg! So you may be wondering how does one get medical attention on the Camino? Well, it's pretty simple. You get medical advise from anyone in the vicinity that speaks your particular language. My primary care physician is Mark. Not only can he do magic with a square inch of mole skin and an ace bandage, but he is carrying every medicine known to the Western world in his backpack. As a consultative staff, I have a trio of Canadians who we've befriended - a barber, a school administrator and a social worker. While they tend to have one prescription for all ailments (put a cold bag of ice on whatever hurts, and a c0ld glass of beer in your free hand), I must say that I admire their approach!

The physical impact of the Camino has led to a wonderful concept called the Rest Day. It's where you pick a city of interest, get a hotel room (note: not an albergue) and spend a full day with NO BACKPACK. For us, the Rest Day occured in Burgos. Burgos is a really beautiful place - full of life. One funny thing about Spain is that most of the churches have been locked (apprarently, there have been some pilferings). There's something very disheartening about a locked church. One of the first things we noticed about Burgos was that, not only are the churches open, but when we ducked our heads in for a peek, most of them had some kind of service in progress. The whole city felt open and welcoming. Burgos is full of beautifully maintained gothic buildings, the centerpiece of which is a 12 Century cathedral, There are several large public squares around the cathedral with lively cafes and tons of comfortable benches. There is a tremendous mix of visitors and citizens milling around. It is the perfect place to spend a sunny fall afternoon. And so we did. And as we strolled about, we ran into about a dozen people we knew - the sisters from Australia, the Welch locksmith, the French singer from Granon along with her little entourage, the three Italien students. We knew more people in that square than we do when we walk down the Pearl Street mall in Boulder . And everyone was so glad to see each other, and everyone was luxurating in the glory of a Rest Day! Top it off with dinner in a nice restaurant and a nice bottle of wine, and you've pretty much discovered heaven on earth.

So now we're back on the road. We woke up planning to go for 18 miles, but Mark developed a shin splint so we stopped after 12 miles. Although he is resisting it, I am the only native English speaker in this albergue, so I get dibs on being his primary. We'll see what I can conjure up - I'm thinking
another Rest Day may be in order!

Sleeping Arrangements

One of the big lessons on this trip is that the old adage about judging a book by it´s cover also holds true for albergues. There are basically three types of albergues - municipal, private and church sponsored. The municipal albergues tend to be very well equipped and efficient. They almost always have internet, sheets on the mattresses, and sometimes even have a washer and dryer. And they´re cheap (about 5 euro or $7). But they put as many people in a room as they can cram in, which usually means that you´re sleeping with 20-30 people. As you crawl into bed (generally lights out at 10:00), you lay in the dark praying that there are no major snorers in the group. I actually read a British pìece on Snore Rage (the uncontrollable urge to put a pillow over a fellow travelers face to cure his or her snoring issues) in a church-sponsored bulletin! The private albergues are owned by a family. They charge a few euros more, but you get more creature comforts - less people to room, colored paint on the walls and an occassional pillow. Then there are the church-sponsored albergues. While the others look after your comfort, the church looks after your soul. No internet, less modern showers. They don´t charge anything (just ask for donations) and include both breakfast and dinner in the deal. But you have to participate in the cleaning of the albergue and the preparation of the meals. Any takers on which type we like best? Well, I´ll answer that by telling a little story.
We stayed in a very small town in Navarette that had two albergues - one private, one church. We came to the church one first so it´s the one we went to. (Side note: after walking for 6-7 hours with a 22 pound pack on your back, you have no idea how grateful you are when you go to an albergue and ask about space and they tell you that the have room for you. The other option is to keep walking until you come to the next albergue, which could be another five six miles down the road). When we were shown the sleeping accomodations, I was literally shocked. It was a room with a platform built onto three of the walls. Mattresses had been placed side by side on the platform so that you were in really close proximity to your neighbors on both sides. No personal space in this albergue. The matresses looked like they had seen better days. Last year, there had been a bed bug breakout on the Camino and I immediately knew where it had started. This place looked like a flop house. But, as I said, you´re always grateful that there a space at all for you, so I chose a mattress in the corner next to the wall and hoped for the best. After our showers and clothes wash, we went outside and discovered that there was a winery a couple of hundred yards from our albergue. A couple of us went down to see if we could get a tour - we couldn´t but they sold us a couple of bottles of wine which we brought back to the albergue. Everyone staying there was sitting at the tables in front of the albergue just reading or writing in their journals and soaking up the late afternoon sun. We broke open the bottles and soon had a little cocktail party going. Our hosts were a brother and sister from Montreal who volunteered to run the albergue for three weeks. They were unbelievably hospitable and had made friends with some of their elderly neighbors. The neighbors came out and joined us, so we had the marvelous mix of people from all over the world, people who were traveling and people who were staying, the very young and the very old. After that we all ate our evening meal. The next morning, the Canadian couple put out not only the manditory bread and jam for breakfast, but blackberrys and figs that they had picked the previous day. We left the albergue with such a warm feeling. From then on, we´ve stayed at the church albergues whenever possible.
By far, our most special evening was in a very small town called Granon. Another church albergue, this one with no mattress - just a pad on the floor. It was located in the church building. We hung our wet laundry in the bell tower to dry! After dinner, they walked us through a dark corridor into the church. Although Granon is small, it has a very fine church that is in good repair. The altar is typical Spanish - very ornate and very gold. I believe it was 15 or 16 century - massive stone blocks repleat with beautiful arches. Our corridor led us to the top of the church to the choir chairs. There were no lights on in the church - just votive candles on each arm of the carved wood choir chairs. We took our places in the chairs and they started a little service consisting of a Travellers Prayer, which was read by each group represented in their own language - Spanish, French, Italian, Japanese, English, Danish and German. An older Danish couple sang a couple of hymns (in beautiful harmony) and then this French girl got up and announced that she´d like to sing for us. Instead of singing towards us, she turned towards the altar and sang to the front of the church. She had an outstanding voice and the church was filled with some of the most beautiful music I¨ve ever heard. Her voice just resonated off the stone walls. When she was done, most people in the church were crying - it was just one of those wonderful moments!
Just one last albergue story - when we were in Vianna (wonderful larger village with beautifully maintained historic buildings) we stayed at a municipal albergue. The modicum of efficiency, it had bunk beds stacked three high with very clean sheets, multiple showers and two internet terminals! There were probably 80 people in the albergue in total spread over five rooms. After lights out, one poor woman got the giggles. She simply could not stop laughing. The more she went on, the more obvious it became that she had had one too many glasses of wine at dinner. After about 30 minutes of this, others in the albergue started to get angry. We´re all pretty tired at the end of the day and you have to get up at 6:00 so sleep is very important. One man finally got up and asked her to stop. He tried to reason with her but that´s very difficult to do with someone who´s overdone the wine. Next, a woman got up and pleaded with her to be quiet as we all will have a long day tomorrow. That too was to no avail. The first man then went back in her room and basically threatened her. That led to a brief exchange where it was deteremined that it wasn´t the individual character that was causing the disruption but an issue with everyone of her nationality. Then all hell broke out. Strings of curse words that made me blush (impressively, the whole argument occurred in English), the woman´s husband trying to broker peace - it just went on and on. It ended with the woman (Sheila) being escorted out of the albergue by her husband who was yelling at her the whole way. So now when Mark asks me where I want to stay, my answer is always the same: I don´t care as long as Sheila isn´t there!

Six Degrees of Separation

A quick post script to our night in Cirauqui, it turns out that the night we were there was their annual festival. Now this is a very small town - about 500 people. When we came into the city, we could hear music blaring. There was a live band playing very wonderful Spanish music in a small pavillion but we weren´t sure what the occassion was. Just before dinner, the person running the alburgue sent us down to the town square to watch the Basque Strongman competition. The town had set up a mini-arena in the center of town and had manned two teams to compete in various feats of strength. It started out with a best 2 out of 3 tug-of-war and ended with a localized relay race. The contestents ran around the perimeter of the arena with 20 pounds of rice, followed by other team members sawing a log with a two-man saw and ending with a speed race based upon running to pick up blocks of wood and tossing them into a basket. They did three rounds, each time wearing down the contestants pretty substantially. The crowd was wild with cheering. The whole town was in the square and the sangria was flowing. Two ladies dragged me into the arena and told me to pick up a rice bag so I could see how heavy it was. It was an unbelievable experience and those of us who were guests felt very lucky to be part of the crowd! After the races, we went to dinner and then to bed. The rest of the town stayed in the town square for more live music and dancing. It went until 4:00 AM. As you can imagine, those of us who were desparate for sleep were pretty miserable as the music was so loud. But we managed to catch a couple of hours of solid sleep in the early morning hours.
Now, Eric Harrison, if you´re out there, we had dinner that evening with Gerard Brosnan from your London office. I´m not sure if you know him, but he sure knows you! Not to worry - I didn´t tell him any stories that he can use in future discussions to negotiate an unmerited career advancement. He was very nice and we enjoyed talking to him. We decided that he´s a Type A Private Equity Pilgrim . . . a Pilgrim with a Blackberry!
We walked 19 miles today - it was beautiful but we´re beat. We´ll catch up soon!

Oh The People You´ll Meet

When I was in 6th grade, my best friends family put in a koi p0nd that ran the length of their backyard. I remember spending the summer sitting by the pond, drinking lemonade, plotting out our lives and watching the fish. The fish had very different personalities; some swam up the length of the pool and then back down, while others meandered from side to side. I had a flashback to that koi pond as I watched people attacking the Camino. Some people are on a mission to get through the walk quickly - they walk long and hard. Others meander down the path, stopping to nose around the villages and grab a coffee whenever it´s available. When we first started the trip, everyone was on the same schedule because there was no choice but to make it to the next albergue. But now that we are four days in, the villages are getting closer and people are beginning to spread out amongst the towns. Tonight, we are in Cirauqui, about 20 miles west of Pamplona. We read a lot about how hard to find rooms in the albergues during the summer and people started hiking competitively to ensure that they´d find a bed for the night. There's been none of that in our trip - everyone is walking at their own pace and there's always been a couple of beds to spare.
We´ve met a lot of people so far from all over the world, but most from France and Spain. The albergues are getting smaller - tonight we're down to 12 in a room. By far our favorite encounter has been with a trio who we call the Rolley Boys. They are three septagenarians from Oregon who have eschewed backpacks and are pulling roller board suitcases down the Camino! We spotted them on the first day (you couldn´t miss them) and were seriously worried about them. They looked a little odd among all the backpackers. But we had dinner with them a couple of nights ago and they actually did this before three years ago (and made it into the Compostela news for the feat!). They have been friends since high school but went very different ways: one into academia, one into the clergy and one into the military. They have remained steadfast friends and still vacation together. I can´t help but admire a 70 year old who still has the will and the strength to walk 500 miles so even though they look a little odd, I say "Roll on, gentlemen!"
Thanks to everyone who sent on best wishes to Mark. He has totally recovered - in fact, today he sang me his complete repetoire of gospel music (I know, it was scary). It´s day four and we haven´t had to walk in the rain yet - keep your fingers crossed!

Hola From Spain!

We´ve had a couple of very busy days. Our flights were non-eventful (truly a good thing), but it still took us 24 hours from leaving Boulder to checking into our hotel room in Biarritz, France. Biarritz was supposed to be the place that we crashed after the long journey, but it turns out that it´s (a) a really fun town and (b) we felt fine when we got there so we spent a very sunny afternoon walking around the city. It´s basically a tourist town right on the Atlantic. There were still lots of visitors sunbathing on the beach and swimming (yes, we managed to go stick our toes into the ocean and it was very pleasant!). This is the Basque region of France so there´s a significant Spanish influence. Many of the hotels put out gigantic paella pans on their patios and made the night´s dinner in full view of all the passers by - it was a gorgeous sight! We passed on that, though, and settled for some al fresco dining on moules and frites!
This morning we set out to Rouncevalles, walking over the Pyranees. It was a 15 mile day and we climbed more than 4200 feet . . . and just when our feet and legs were screaming, we had to come down about 1200 feet. All told, it took seven hours. But it was a really beautiful climb - the weather was just sparkling. All along the path, we cut through the Basque farms, repleat with herds of long-haired sheep. At times, their bells were so loud it almost sounded like a musical performance!
Unfortunately, Mark wasn´t feeling too well (a bad Biarritz moule, perhaps?), so I didn´t get the usual rendition of Climb Every Mountain. That´s okay - he´s feeling better now and we have more mountains to get over.
We´re all settled into our albergue with our 118 closest friends. It´s a massive room filled with bunk beds - brings me back to traveling though Europe when I was in college. Except most people traveling at this time of year are our age or older. Lots of moaning and groaning as people lay down on their bunks!
We have some awesome pictures but they´ll have to wait - Mark has the camera and he´s otherwise disposed at the moment. I promise we´ll have them ready to share on the next posting.

Off We Go!

First we tell you that we’re leaving California for Colorado and now we’re on the move again! You may be thinking “What are they doing?” Really, it’s just another hike - but a very long one that will take us along one of the ancient routes used by religious pilgrims for centuries to pray at the remains of St. James, housed in the cathedral in Compostela, Spain. We’ll be walking the Camino Frances, from the foot of the Pyrenees Mountains in France and continuing across Northern Spain to Compostela – 496 miles and almost five weeks to be exact. And we definitely won’t be lonely in this venture – over 80,000 people have walked to Compostela so far this year. We’re not in search of St. James but out to experience a slice of Iberia on foot reasonably far away from the modern daily grind. But as 21st Century pilgrims, we’ll partake in the modern pleasures and vino of Spain!
“Why are you doing this?” We’d actually been talking about doing something like this for quite a while. When we hung up our corporate shoes and put on our hiking boots last spring, an extended trek was the first thing that we put on the To Do list. We’ll be walking through beautiful countryside, staying in small, picturesque villages, sampling Spain’s great food and wine and enjoying Spain’s temperate (hopefully) climate on foot.
“How exactly does this work?” The trek will take us through small hamlets across Spain. We carry our clothes, a sleeping bag and our lunch in a backpack. Most nights, we’ll stay in an albergue; a dormitory open to registered pilgrims along the Camino. We’ll register with the Camino Office in France as cultural pilgrims and will be given a passport, which will give us access to the albergues, as well as a scallop shell, the symbol of the Camino de Santiago, which we carry on the back of our packs. Most albergues will give us a bunk with a mattress, and a hot shower, and occasional internet connection. From our reading, ear plugs are a must as there will be up to 50 people sleeping and snoring in the same room. We’ll be bunking with people from all over the world, diverse in age, background and motivation for making this journey. So we expect to meet a lot of interesting people! We’ll average about 15 miles a day, passing through three to four villages, mostly founded in the 15th and 16th centuries. The path takes us across a lot of farmland, and we’re looking forward to watching and dining on the harvest. This is the Spain’s version of a hut to hut. As you can imagine, there is a real incentive to bring as little on the route as possible and packing has been a semi-traumatic experience as we come to grips with the idea of a very limited wardrobe selection. No doubt, we’ll look like true pilgrims when we pull into Compostela!
We’ve been working hard this summer to prepare for the trip, taking advantage of building up our legs and lungs in our new backyard of the Rocky Mountains. We made an attempt to pick up some of the language (hours of Spanish tapes on a Wyoming road trip) and we have our Berlitz phrase book handy! We’re going to celebrate our completion of the trek by meeting up with our friend Katie Zoglin who’s spending the year in Morocco with the American Bar Association. We’ll be going on a safari in the Sahara and are looking forward to riding instead of hiking, even though our "wheels" will be in the form of a camel
Tomorrow we start by walking out our door in Boulder to the bus for the plane, to the train and then giving up public transport and climbing the Pyrenees on Saturday. We'll keep you posted throughout the trip!