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!