Fog City Boy on the Variante Espiritual y Ruta Maritima del Camino

San Francisco, July 8, 2018

Translatio . . .

7 May 2018: Pontevedra to Combarro

The Variante Espiritual branches off of the more traditional “official” Camino Portugues (Camino Central) about three kilometers north of Pontevedra, and reconnects about three kilometers south of Padron.

Literature encouraging pilgrims to follow the route describes it thusly:

Follow the same route as the remains of St. James on his journey to Compostela and cross a place of great natural beauty. Discover water-mills, fountains, chapels and monasteries. Walk through forests, vineyards and beaches. Travel the only maritime Via Crucis [sic] in the world, where you can admire the 17 centennial cruceiros (calvary) identifying this part of the Camino de Santiago as the “Translatio.” THE ORIGIN OF ALL ROADS. [“Translatio” means “the transfer.]

After his execution in Rome, St. James’ followers secretly transported his remains to Spain by sea. In 44 AD the ship carrying his body sailed to the Bay of Arousa where his body was brought ashore and then taken by a small boat up the river and again brought ashore, near Padron, and eventually interred at Santiago.

The description of the Variante Espiritual is accurate. It is a less traveled route which gives the peregrino a measure of solitude not generally available on the “official” routes. The number of pilgrims on The Way varies inversely with the distance to Santiago! And, there were a substantial number of pilgrims on the road early that morning.

I fell in with two young women from Germany and a woman who was my contemporary from Switzerland. We chatted in German and in English (their English better than my German). When most pilgrims continued on the traditional Way, the four of us stopped where the Variante breaks off from the traditional Way and we took each other’s pictures. (Last photo in FCB #34.) Then I learned that they also were planning to take the Variante. We walked in tandem for the rest of the day.

The Variante has a distinct waymark – a concha (scallop shell) superimposed on a red cross of St. James.

After about two hours on the Variante, we came upon frisky lambs frolicking in a pasture by which we passed.

The faith is strong in Galicia. Cruceiros are common and often hundreds of years old. This one appeared to be quite new and the detail was impressive.  It was placed in the garden of the home in the background.

The Variante passes through Poio which is home to a substantial and active Monastery of San Xoan de Poio dating from the 7th Century.

Interesting and recent inlays decorate a court yard.  The staff, the gourd, and the cross of St. James – all symbols of the Camino.

We continued on along the coast. The peregrinas continued on, but I stopped at Combarro for a nice lunch and a restful afternoon. The hotelkeeper where I stayed was quite proud of his establishment and his town. He took me up to the roof deck and exulted in the vista!

8 May 2018: Combarro to Armenteira

Combarro is built on the side of a steep coastal range. The Variante breaks away from the main thoroughfare through town and goes . . . up!

Swiftly, the peregrino finds himself in sparsely populated, then very sparsely populated country. It’s a long, steep climb, but the views are great.

The Variante turns inland but continues to climb, eventually emerging from forested trails and logging roads to reach Armenteira, a pleasant community and location of the Monasterio de Santa Maria de Armenteira. Its nuns are of the Cistercian Order.

I stayed at an Albergue in Armenteira. It is newly constructed and municipally operated.

Laundry facilities were present. That’s my laundry hanging from a line – lower left.

9 May 2018: Armenteira to Vilanova de Arousa

Only a very light breakfast was available at the Albergue, so I broke out one of my cans of sardines – my failsafe comestible for situations such as this. The Variante continues through the town and then enters the Ruta de la pedra y del agua – the route of stone and water.

(The spelling on the sign is in the Galician language. Some would argue that Galician is a dialect of Spanish. But the Galicians hold that it is their own language.)

It was a fun walk – mostly downhill – with good signage and pleasant surroundings. There were a substantial number of abandoned stone buildings, and plenty of water along the way.

After emerging from the Route of Stone and Water, the Variante continues along side the Rio Umia . . .

. . . continuing into vineyards. The supports for the vines are built to support substantial crops!

A few minutes later, public art as a tribute to common folk.

A cruceiro in a vineyard.

I arrived in Vilanova de Arousa, situated on the edge of the Bay of Arousa, visited the municipal albergue where I bought my ticket for the swift boat transit the next day, and settled into my lodging. I explored the town, had supper, and went to bed . . . anticipating the the next day’s adventure.

10 May 2018: Vilanova de Arousa via the Ruta Maritima – to Padron

I was up timely, enjoyed a decent breakfast, and headed for the boat landing. Several of us looked around for the boat that was to take us up the river, but to no avail. Over the next half hour, about two dozen peregrinos gathered there, all a bit chilly and wondering if we were in the right place. Eventually the boat and the boatman arrived.

We all boarded, along with our mochilas and walking sticks which we held between our knees. It reminded me of riding in a cattle truck during Army Basic Training with my duffle bag between my knees.  The benches were not deep, but they were adequate.

We cast off and proceeded. The sun was not high yet; the scenery was lovely.

The boat was swift and provided an exciting ride!  I had almost a front row seat.

In time, we came upon a trio of cruceiros – depicting on the mount at Calvary, Jesus in the center and the criminals lower and to his left and right.

Not long after, we arrived at our destination, Pontecesures, a short two kilometer walk to Padron. The boat and the boatman returned to Vilanova. I and the other peregrinos now were back on the Camino Portugues.

I got a Café con Leche to warm up, and then headed the short distance to Padron. checked in to the Hotel Chef Rivera – the very same lodging I had when I passed this way in 2014. (Shout out to my friends from Alberta who walked in tandem with me then, and who also stayed at the Chef Rivera.)

I revisited Padron. The bronze peregrino is still walking toward Santiago.

It was a nice day, and families were enjoying the

11 May 2018: Padron to Santiago

On the way out of Padron, I noticed a recently constructed passenger shelter. Made of granite!

The Way avoids some of the heavily traveled highway by traversing country lanes and villages.

At Faramello, The Way passes a small church and shrine, and the Cruceiro do Francos, one of the oldest wayside crosses in Galicia.

Shortly thereafter, I came upon what I will simply describe as a lazy man’s way of herding sheep.

A handsome plackard in the town of Teo.

And here, the Fog City Boy is slightly over 10 kilometers from Santiago – sitting at the same bridge where a similar photo was taken in 2014. Different boots (the other pair wore out after 1,000 miles), a different water bottle, and Tilley hat a bit floppier, but the same Fog City Boy – boots, water bottle, hat, and peregrino – none the worse for wear!

I continued on, took a break for lunch, and reached Santiago in the late afternoon.

An obliging peregrina took my picture and interviewed me about my perigrenacion.

12 May 2018: At Santiago

I was up early and arrived at the Pilgrim Welcome Office about 7 am. The line had already formed. At precisely 8 am the gate was opened and eager peregrinos filed inside. A volunteer in the office reviewed by pilgrim passport, placed a final stamp in the next open space, and prepared a Compostela bearing the date of issuance, 12 May 2018, the point at which I had begun the pilgrimage, and my name – suitably Latinized. Although I have earned three other Compostelas, each one has special meaning for me. I am pleased, and honored, to have them.

I left the Pilgrim Office to return to my hotel for a good breakfast and then explored the Convento de San Francisco which was a block away. A handsome structure, the exterior recently renovated, with extraordinary religious art within.

I then visited the Cathedral, and as always, marveled at the grandeur of the structure, and the extraordinary art in the chapels and the main altar. I lit a candle in memory of a friend who had passed away shortly before I left on my pilgrimage.

I visited other venerated buildings and enjoyed just wandering the streets of Santiago.  And from a travel agency near the Cathedral, I got a map and a new pilgrim passport for use starting tomorrow!

There is always a sense of exhuberance in Santiago because when peregrinos arrive, they know they have achieved a major accomplishment – whether religious, spiritual, or simply athletic. They, and those who have come to welcome them, are in a celebratory mood.

There was dancing in the Praza de Cervantes.

I had a good dinner, including a long-standing local favorite – pemientos padron and vino tinto de la casa.

Tomorrow would be another day, and another journey. Tomorrow I would strike out on the 90 kilometer Camino Finesterre – the journey to the lighthouse that marks the place the Romans thought of as Lands End – the end of the earth.

Buen Camino!

More to come!

 

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Camino de la Costa

San Francisco, July 3, 2018

Hail to Spain, farewell to Portugal

1 May 2018: Ancora to A Guarda

I awoke to a pleasant, sunny day. A good day for walking to Spain! The Way was in good condition and beckoned me forward.

After about an hour after leaving Ancora, I came upon a herd of goats enjoying a seaside brunch. In the distance you can see Monte Tecla which dominates a peninsula on the Spanish side of the Rio Minho (Rio Min͂o).

About half way to the town of Caminha where there is a ferry to take pilgrims and others across the river to Spain; however, it is seasonal and was not operating when I passed by. The Senda Litoral branches off of the official Caminha route at Moleda. It adds about a mile to the walk, but is through a lovely park at Moleda Beach and Camarido Beach. Apparently they are favorites of the local surfing crowd. Unfortunately, not all surfers are welcome.

I arrived in Caminha, briefly explored the central city, and at about noon proceeded to the ferry. The ferry was a modern catamaran design and was moored conveniently to the town. A gentleman who appeared to be part of the ferry operation told me that the ferry wouldn’t set out again until 2:00 – however, there was a small boat that could take me now. Was I interested? I looked over the small boat. It appeared seaworthy. Already aboard were two peregrinos from Japan who were doing their perigrenacion on bicycles, also on board. We chatted briefly and the boatman cast off.

The boat was a fast one and the trip did not take more than 15 minutes. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t exciting. Part way across, the boatman feathered the engines only slightly and invited one of the Japanese fellows, and then the other, to exchange places with him and take the controls of the boat while he took their pictures. They accepted his offer. I considered whether or not I could swim to shore if the boat swamped.

He offered me the same opportunity but I declined and held fast to the side of the boat. In a few more minutes we arrived in Spain.

The Japanese fellows got on their bikes and went on – up and over Monte Tecla – the official Camino de la Costa. I continued around the mountain on the Senda Literal which skirted lovely beaches. I paused and looked back at Portugal.

While there was political graffiti in Portugal, it seemed both more frequent and more pointed in Spain.

In mid-afternoon, I arrived in A Guarda, a town with a population of 10,000 or so.

I checked into my lodging, and explored the town. On the recommendation of fellow Bay Area peregrino (a shout out to Emilio, and thanks!), I hiked up to the top of the town and visited the Castillo de Santa Cruz, the construction of which was begun in the 17th century.

It was strategically placed with a commanding view of the sea to the west . . .

The Spanish verb “aguardar” can mean variously, ”to keep,” “to watch,” to guard.” An appropriate name for the town that grew up beneath the castle!

The interior of the Castillo is now a sculpture garden.

The sculptures celebrate common folk rather than royalty.

A soldier in battle dress . . .

A mason . . .

A young woman in the wind, facing the sea, waiving to her lover . . .

I enjoyed my visit to the castle and, toward sunset, returned to my lodging and a good night’s rest.

2 May 2018: A Guarda to O Muino

It began as an overcast day and remained that way. Still, the views were stunning.

It was a pleasant walk, the highlight of which was following The Way into the small town of Oia which is host to the El Real Monasterio de Santa Maria de Oia dating from the twelfth century.

The monastery is of some considerable architectural interest and is unusual for having been built directly on the coast of Spain, rather than some distance inland.

The Monastery is closed to the public at present. A private development concern has undertaken to restore the monastery and adjacent buildings with the aim of establishing it as a 4-star hotel with meeting rooms and other facilities. They hope to develop year-round tourism which the locals accept with mixed emotions.

I got a stamp in my credencial  from a friendly café owner and continued on my way.

Along the way there were reminders that the economic challenges of recent years have not been wholly overcome. This handsome home has been under construction – or perhaps in suspended animation – for a number of years.

In the late afternoon, I arrived in Mougas and continued on a few kilometers to O Muino, a tiny community perched on a bluff overlooking the coast. One hotel had restored one of the many historic windmills that dot the coast in both Portugal and Spain.

3 May 2018: O Muino to Baiona

The weather improved although almost the entire distance today was along sidewalks and sendas adjacent to heavily traveled roadways.

Someone had built a lovely summer home that even sported a small swimming pool.

A little further along and on the other side of the road, no swimming pool, but a great view.

As elsewhere in Spain, the local authorities have taken steps to facilitate peregrinos and keep them safe from vehicular traffic. Note the granite peak in the distance.

Another coastal home. Note that it is constructed of granite blocks, an oft-used building material in this corner of Spain.

And, atop the granite peak, the Faro de Cabo Silleiro, built in 1924 and projecting a light 44 kilometers (24 nautical miles).

 

I continued on into the town center of Baiona, a community of about 12,000.

On the main thoroughfare I espied a welcoming café. They advertised a calamari sandwich in two sizes. I ordered the small size.

What would the large version have looked like!?! I enjoyed half the sandwich and saved the other for lunch the next day.

Baiona was windy that afternoon. The flags of many nations welcomed visitors to this coastal destination.

A handsome fonte dating from 1865 is situated near the town center.

The placard explains that the fountain was donated to the city of Baiona by Ventura Misa y Bertemati, a local entrepreneur.

I wandered the town for a time. The billboard below was not the first one I had encountered offering instruction in the English language.

4 May 2018: Baiona to Vigo

Again, the Camino de la Costa and the Senda Litoral diverge. I chose the Senda Litoral, passing a lovely chapel and adjacent cruciero on the way out of town.

As previously noted, political messaging in Spain is not uncommon.

A little further along, the Fog City Boy strikes a pose at seaside.

More beautiful scenery, but increasingly developed for visitors’ enjoyment.

In time, I made it to Vigo, an active seaport with substantial ship building and repair facilities. There was a lovely park near my lodging for the night.

5 May 2018: Vigo to Redondela

On the way out of Vigo, I again traversed the central park and came upon the dancing waters of a lovely fountain.

About two hours into the day, the Senda Litoral rejoins the Camino de la Costa. At this point The Way becomes quite hilly which is, on the one hand challenging, but on the other, affords wonderful views.

A delightful young woman has established a bocateria catering to peregrinos. A place to refresh and relax before continuing on.

I gave her the address for my blog. I’m hoping she is reading this now!

There were hundreds of mussel farming barges anchored in the river below.

The Camino de la Costa continues through a lightly wooded landscape. . .

. . . before reaching Redondela where it rejoins the Camino Central – the traditional Camino Portugues.

May 6, 2018: Redondela to Pontevedra and beyond

On this perigrenacion to date, I have only repeated one stage of The Way that I had walked previously on my first pilgrimage in 2014. That would be the stage from Matosohinos to Vila do Conde (plus a short segment at the end of the walk from Porto to Matosinhos. Today I will walk to Pontevedra and the day after, about an hour to the point at which the Variante Espiritual branches off from the Camino Central – rejoining in three days time the Camino Central shortly before Padron.

One of the attractions of this Way to Santiago was that the thrill of discovery was yet available to this pilgrim. New paths, new vistas, discovery, and a destination that, while not new, was to be reached by a new, coherent traverse. All in, all done, I will only have duplicated my 2014 pilgrimage on slightly over three days.

The Camino is about discovery. Discovery of space, time, and spirit.

With that, on to Pontevedra.

I recall that in 2014, I by design overshot Redondela by a few kilometers. This time I stayed in town. Meandering out of town, the peregrino finds a display of conchas and words of greeting and encouragement.

At Arcada, a Roman bridge still crosses the Rio de Vigo.

Once across, there are more than one challenging climb!

We are now well into Galicia. The frequency of Crucieros increases.

Later in the day, I came upon the Capela da Marta, dating from 1817

Shortly after that, I decided to walk a detour from the regular Way – the Senda Fluvial rio dos Grafos Tomeza. This was a lovely, shaded, and engaging walk through the woods along a babbling brook!

The Senda Fluvial rejoined the waymarked route and I continued on into Pontevedra. It’s a big city in that part of the world with a population in excess of 80,000.

A large town square with numerous restaurants seeking the attention of visitors – pilgrims or not.  And an extraordinary church – the Sanctuario de la Peregrina – dating from the 18th century.

The next day, May 7th, I crossed the Rio Lerez . . .

. . . and continued a little more than three kilometers, passing by a charming painted tile on a wall surrounding a suburban house depicting St. James, a Camino waymark, and the cathedral in Santiago. . .

. . . they were welcoming and acknowledging the pilgrims passing by . . . and I continued my perigrenacion to Santiago via the Variante Espiritual.

More to follow!

 

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Caminha da Costa

San Francisco, June 18, 2018

The peregrinação begins!

26 April 2018: Porto to Matosinhos

I was up timely, collected my pilgrimage gear, had a decent breakfast, and set out for Santiago de Compostela – about 173 miles on foot, and 17 miles by boat away. I had a sense of anticipation, and a certain exhilaration as well! It was good to be back on The Way!

I picked up the waymarked path just outside my hotel and walked down to the Rio Douro and followed the river for most of the rest of the day. I should clarify that there actually are two paths that meander north along the coast and often intertwine. There is an “official” Caminha da Costa (the Way of the Coast), and there is the Senda Litoral (Coastal Path). I began with the Senda Litoral and generally preferred it to the Caminha because it hugs the coast more closely than the Caminha, which often travels the coastal hills rather than the shoreline.

Porto once had a very extensive trolley system. A small portion has been retained for tourism purposes. The alignment is generally single-track with passing turnouts strategically placed. San Francisco borrowed several of the little, single-truck trams when it inaugurated the Trolley Festival in 1983 (replacing the cable cars while that system was rebuilt). I came upon one of the tourist trams that was attempting to reach the end of the line adjacent to the river. Its progress was blocked by an auto that apparently had been parked on the tracks for an extended period of time. The motorman and a policeman were trying to decide what to do.  I passed it by and continued along the river.

Porto is often compared to San Francisco – hills, water, and bridges.

Soon the river met the sea, and the vista became more dramatic.

Public art is common in Portugal and Spain. Shortly after arriving at the urban center of Matosinhos, I encountered “Tragedy at Sea” – a set of sculptures set directly on a sandy beach and facing the ocean. The nearby plackard read as follows:

Inspired by a painting by the famous Augusto Gomes, a great artist from Matosinhos, the sculptural ensemble “Tragedy at Sea”, by Jose Joao Brito (2005) remembers the greatest nautical tragedy ever recorded on Portuguese waters: the tempest of 1-2 December 1947, in which several fishing boats sank off Leixoes Port, causing the death of 152 crew members and pain and despair in the whole community. 72 widows and 152 orphans came out of this tragedy.

My first day of this perigrenacion was not a long one – slightly over 12 kilometers (7.5 miles). The decision to set Matosinhos as my destination for the day was a conscious one: Generally it is not wise “to launch out of the box too hard” at the beginning of a strenuous athletic endeavor. Hape (Hans Peter) Kerkeling, the German television personality who is largely responsible for popularizing the Camino, has observed that it can take 10 days “to get your walking legs.”

I arrived in time for a nice lunch, having dropped off my pack at my evening’s lodging. During lunch, I noticed two women who clearly were peregrinas. I greeted them and we talked for a time. They had set out from Porto that morning, but intended to go on much further that day. They were sisters and hailed from Slovenia. One seemed quite nervous – clearly on edge. She stepped out of the café for a smoke, and her sister told me that her sister’s boyfriend had died exactly one month before. She said she hoped that the Camino would help her sister come to terms with her loss. I hope so, too.

27 April 2018: Matosinhos to Vila do Conde

One reason I wanted to walk the Caminha da Costa was my one-day experience on that route during my first peregrenacion – the Camino Portugues – in 2014. It was the most beautiful day of all the Camino routes I had undertaken to this point. (See FCB #8 ) So today, I expected, would be a repeat of that experience. And it was in many respects, though the weather was much better on that day in 2014.

I departed my lodging and walked to the small port of Matosinhos. . .

. . . crossed the drawbridge and on the other side, saw a reassuring yellow arrow.

Continuing through the outskirts of Matosinhos along a heavily traveled roadway reminded me of San Francisco’s Great Highway that parallels the Pacific Ocean at The City’s Ocean Beach.

The Senda continues north, and though the day was overcast, the vistas were glorious.

As I had done four years previously, I approached the Boa Nova Lighthouse which alerts mariners to the “Black Coast” – the scene of many shipwrecks. It is the second tallest in Portugal at 46 meters. The white light from the lighthouse reaches approximately 28 nautical miles.

The weather improved during the course of the morning. I passed through a small fishing village, continued on along a network of boardwalks and accompanying views.

 

High on a bluff a cross reached out to the faithful.

Sometime after noon, I came to a small village and discovered a small café where a half-dozen young workingmen were enjoying a hearty lunch. I presented myself and the matron of the café asked, “peixe ou carne?” I responded “peixe“ (pronounced “pesche”). I could infer from her next query that she wanted to know “what kind?” I told her with gestures that she should choose. A few minutes later she returned from an outdoor barbeque manned by her husband with a wonderful a whole fish – expertly fileted, moist and tender. With boiled potatoes, cabbage, bread, sparkling water, it was the best meal I had in all of Portugal! The price? €7.50.

The restaurant was decorated with the Portuguese flag and a banner patterned after the flag of Angola, the former Portuguese colony.

I’m not sure what sentiments were conveyed by the display. Could it be support for what originally was a communist regime in Angola? Or rejection of such a state? Or perhaps a keepsake of someone who fought in the Portuguese Colonial War (1961-1974).  I’ll never know.

Later in the day, I came upon a shrine hosting what I found to be compelling religious art:

In the late afternoon, I reached Vila do Conde.

Just outside my accommodation for the night, there was more public art.

In the distance you can see an aqueduct built in the early 18th century. It supplied water to the entire city from the nearby hills.

28 April 2018: Vila do Conde to Esposende

This time, the day started out on the “official” Caminha da Costa. Leaving Vila do Conde, The Way is well waymarked and passes through developed districts eventually reaching Povoa Varzim which hosts a handsome church.

 

Back on the coast, I encountered a small windmill – not presently in service.  It was the first of many such structures (sans the arms to hold sails) that dot the coast.  I was unable to determine whether they were used to pump water, grind grain, or for some other purpose.

During my travels this day, I met a trio of peregrinas, two of whom were sisters hailing from London, and one of whom hailed from Slovenia. We walked together for several days. The sisters were raising money for a school back home. They had been sponsored by many friends and parents who applauded their travels on the Caminha da Costa.

Entering Esposende, I came upon a statue honoring the work of a local priest.

 

 

 

29 April 2018: Esposende to Viana do Castelo

The Way proceeds through some challenging country, and into every pilgrimage, a little rain must fall. . .

My Caminha friends from London offered to take my picture after we successfully exited a long wooded stretch with intermittent rain.

We passed by a lovely shrine en route.

Viana do Castelo lies on the north bank of the Rio Lima. The Caminha shares a bridge with a highway and a railroad. We made it safely across but swiftly became lost. The waymarking is not the best in Viana, however upon reaching the old town section of the city, we were greeted by a charming display of umbrellas.

30 April 2018: Viana do Castelo to Ancora

After an early breakfast, I met up with the peregrinas from London and Slovenia and we hiked up and out of town.  They were continuing on the traditional Caminha route and had farther to travel that day than I.  I accompanied them through the suburbs and into the small farming villages that form the “exurbs” of Viana.  After an hour, we set out on our separate ways.  There were hugs all around, and of course, wishes of “buen Camino!” I headed toward the coastal town of Areosa and the three peregrinas continued on their way.

I spent the balance of the day on the Senda Litoral, many segments of which have been greatly improved to attract the attention of, and footfalls of, peregrinos from all across the world.

It was a lovely day, and the views were rewarding.

The Senda passes the ruins of the Forte Paco.

The improvements to the Caminha include paved sections, graded sendas, and extensive runs of boardwalks.

Ancora is across the inlet which must be circumnavigated. The system of boardwalks is not wholly complete, requiring a final arrival in town by walking quite a way on soft beach sand.

After checking into my lodging, I explored the town – discovering a Festival of Flowers gracing the town square.

And many decorated bicycles!

A commuter railroad stops in Ancora.

 

I returned to my seaside lodging, enjoyed the vista, had a good dinner, and slept well.

The morrow would bring my last walk along the coast in Portugal. Tomorrow the Caminha da Costa would become the Camino de la Costa.

More to follow!

Knute Michael

 

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Fog City Boy Walks Through Hyde Park

San Francisco, June 3, 2018

The Fog City Boy has completed the Caminha da Costa (Portuguese) or Camino de la Costa (Spanish) and is happily back home in San Francisco, as the date line above discloses. I am preparing my blog ex post facto because the opportunity to report en route wasn’t there this time: The internet cafes and occasional hotel business center with a real computadora on which I have relied have all but disappeared. Wi-Fi is everywhere and readily available, but I can’t compose a blog entry on my iPhone! So, I will publish a series of posts over the next several weeks, but they will have been composed after my return.

Pilgrims on the Coastal Way generally begin their perigrenacion in Porto, Portugal. The Coastal Way proceeds north through Vila do Conde, Esposende, Viana do Castelo and Caminha where it crosses the Rio Minho and continues into Spain, eventually connecting with the traditional Camino Central of the Camino Portugues at Redondela. I followed this route – with the exception of a 3-day excursion via the Variante Espiritual. Details to follow.

I reached Santiago de Compostela, visited the pilgrim office to receive my Compostela – the certificate attesting to a pilgrim’s completion of his or her perigrenacion, and then continued on for an additional 90 kilometers to Finistere – where the Romans thought it was lands end – thus “finis terra.” But, more about that later!

However, before the Fog City Boy could walk these 250 miles, he had to get to Porto.

23 – 25 April 2018:  San Francisco to Porto

The flight from San Francisco to London Heathrow was the best kind: uneventful. Upon arriving and clearing customs and immigration, I had to make my way to London Gatwick for my next day flight to Porto. Being a closet rail fan, I eschewed the bus link between the two airports, and elected to take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station.

The train was comfortable and swift. Paddington was grand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I looked for Paddington Bear, but did not see him. Apparently someone was taking care of him, no doubt providing him sandwiches and marmalade.

 

I proceeded to the entrance to the Tube intending to ride the Circle Line several stops to arrive at Victoria Station where I would board the Gatwick Express and be whisked off to my destination. However, upon applying at a kiosk for a ticket to enter the Tube, I encountered a fare demand of £4.85 = $6.47 which seemed kind of a lot to travel for 6 or 7 stations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, since I had embarked upon this adventure for the purpose of walking places – and the day was young – I decided to save my $6.47 and walk to Victoria Station. That would take me through Hyde Park.

What fun!

It was a pleasant afternoon, and joggers were out in force.

The path took me across the Serpentine. . .

And then, I came upon a procession of mounted soldiers! And heard bells ringing in the distance! And later the report of artillery being fired!

The occasion was a celebration of the birth of young (but not yet officially named) Prince Louis and the arrival of his parents, the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, at Buckingham Palace. The Times of London reported as follows:

“Official celebrations were already under way, with the bells of Westminster Abbey ringing out from 1pm and gun salutes fired in London at 2pm.

“The King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery rode out from Wellington Barracks into Hyde Park for a 41-round salute, and the Honourable Artillery Company (HAC), the City of London’s Army Reserve regiment, fired a 62-round gun salute from the Tower of London.”

It was quite a show.

I continued my walk back into the City – past Harrods. . .

And past the Wellington Arch. . .

Through a small park. . .

And finally arriving at Victoria Station.

The GX – the Gatwick Express – delivered me promptly to that airport. I slept well, and next morning, flew to Porto.

The Cathedral was a few blocks from my hotel.

I applied for and received a new Credencial del Peregrino – the pilgrim passport that attests to the pilgrim’s commitment to his or her pilgrimage, and on which are recorded many sellas – stamps from hostels, hotels, restaurants, and points of interest along The Way followed by the pilgrim. A stamp from the Cathedral inaugurated this Credencial.

That evening, I took a walk down the hill to the Rio Douro – a popular attraction for both visitors and locals. I passed a monument commemorating the fifth centenary of the birth of Henry the Navigator.

I continued on to the river.

There were many people out for a stroll or otherwise enjoying a pleasant evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had a nice dinner, returned to my hotel, and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

My perigrenacion on the Caminha da Costa would begin in the morning.

More to follow. . . .

 

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

Dublin, September 23, 2017

The respite in Lugo was a welcome break – an opportunity for recovery before launching on the final stages of the pregrenacion. Lodging was comfortable. Food was good.

While wandering the old town in Lugo, I crossed paths with two young couples I had met along The Way. Both had walked the Camino del Norte which originates at Irun (Spain) near Biarritz (France). It proceeds west along the coast with the Camino Primitivo serving as one of two traditional routes that eventually connect with the Camino Frances. I met the American couple (from the Pacific Northwest) on the Hospitales Route. I met the German couple (she from Poland) a couple of days later. Reunifications are one of the most rewarding elements of the Camino experience. Though you may only have known a peregrino for a day or so, you share a common bond that makes you “old friends” when The Way brings you together again.

Both couples had experienced a fully booked town when they arrived in Berducedo (where this en suite peregrino was disappointed not to have his own room and an unlimited hot shower). Both had walked on about 5 kilometers to the home of a generous woman who undertook to provide shelter and dinner to them and to other peregrinos who could find no other habitacion for the evening. The price? Strictly donativo. All four spoke of their experiences with gratitude.

The Way proceeds past the cathedral, through one or another arched gateway (there are alternate routes out-of-town), eventually crossing the River Mino and casually traversing the suburbs of Lugo.

As The Way moves from suburbs to rural venues, it is clear that harvest is coming soon.

The peregrino traffic on the respective Caminos increases upon departure from Lugo (Camino Primitivo), Sarria (Camino Frances), or Tui (Camino Portugues). Each of these towns is a gateway of sorts – a point where the distance to Santiago de Compostela is a few kilometers over the 100 needed to obtain a compostela – the certificate attesting to one’s status as a pilgrim and to the completion of the peregrenacion – upon arrival there. Many pilgrims begin their pilgrimage from one of these gateways.

I was particularly pleased to set out on the last 100 km or so because guidebook references made clear that most of the elevation challenges were behind me. That meant that I would be able to “step out” – use my full stride rather than taking “baby steps” as I had done so frequently in the days before. Baby steps were my safety measure when dealing with ascents and descents. I marvel at the 20 and 30-somethings who blithely stride swiftly up and down graveled byways, many without walking poles.

In time, The Way returns to its usual farm road/byway character. Entrepreneurs capture the opportunity.

The Way follows secondary roads but also diverts into wooded paths. I took a break in a shaded spot, only to discover a waymark monument with a statement by a Canadian peregrino who had recently passed by. Exactly why this location commanded the peregrino to jettison his boots is unclear.

But also there are enduring reminders of the faith.

The Camino Primitivo presents an assortment of challenges (elevation being one, as previously reported). One of those challenges is the paucity of facilities between Lugo and Melide or alternatively Palas de Rei where the Primitivo joins the Camino Frances for the final distance to Santiago. The distance from Lugo is 46 km to Melide with very few albergue spaces or other habitacion available. The peregrino must plan carefully!

My plan was to break the Lugo-Melide stage into three substages. I had booked accommodations accordingly.

Unfortunately, I missed the cues as reported in my guidebook marking the edge of town at San Ramon da Retorta (population about 50, not including peregrinos staying at the two alberques) – the intended end of my first substage. I had planned to call for a taxi there, return to Lugo for the night (I already had booked and paid for my hotel there), and return to San Ramon the next morning to continue on. But I blew by the town and found myself a long way out of town before I was forced to acknowledge that my plans were superceded by a new reality!

Having no other choice, I persevered.

About one hour and 3 km later, I came to Burgo de Negral, a tiny farming village (population 37) that formed around a pilgrim hospital established in 1223. Burgo also was home to several 30-somethings who might best be described as latterday Iberian hippies. I assign that description with affection. They were most kind to me.

They had a display of leather goods, simple jewelry, and other souveneirs of the Camino assembled by she who was the leader of the family assemblage. Fruit and beverages were available, as well as a selle for the passing peregrino’s credencial. Everything was offered donativo.

I collected the selle, made a donation, and explained my plight.

She who was the leather artisan and leader of the pack volunteered her brother to drive me to Lugo (there were no known taxis for miles around). “How much would it cost?” “Donativo,” was the response.

So I climbed into Alejandro’s very basic little car (not his real name), and off we went to Lugo. I arrived safely about 40 minutes later. Actually, he was a far more conservative driver than any of the actual taxi drivers I had engaged in Spain.

Alejandro with broken English and I with broken Spanish talked as best we could. He communicated that he thought the Primitivo was more difficult than the other Caminos. I indicated agreement. He said that he had biked the Camino Primitivo at some point in the past. We arrived in Lugo, I made my donation, he was cordial and returned home.

The next day, there were no busses that would get me to Burgo de Negral. But the information office at the Estasion de Autobuses in Lugo directed me to a regional line that would get me to Guntin, a substantial town in the general vicinity of Negral. “Take a taxi from there,” was the advice. Ok. Today is a short day (because yesterday was longer than intended). Let’s give it a try.

I enjoyed the ride through rural hamlets, eventually arriving in Guntin. I exited the bus, collected my mochila, and looked for a taxi stand. To make a short story shorter, there was none, but the operator of a Repsol (petrol) station called a friend who had a local delivery service who was willing to take on the challenge of getting me to Negral. He only got lost once, but eventually – after receiving directions from a resident farmer – deposited me in the Bergo de Negral across the street from a Camino waymark.

I made a point of calling on my latterday hippie friends who were glad to see me. I was glad to see them! We all embraced, and I continued on The Way.

About 5 km farther along the Way, the path leads through the farming town of Ferreira. The Way crosses a Roman bridge part way through the town.

A little farther along The Way, there is a small parklet off to the side of the road. A stream has been channeled through it and a monument commemorates a local benefactor and hero.

The next morning, I came upon a very welcome sight – a small cafe/bar that was not reported in either of my guidebooks (published in 2013 and 2015, respectively). The Camino infrastructure continues to evolve!

[Strong advice to future peregrinos: Never rely on a guidebook more than one year old if you can avoid it. The Caminos are always changing.]

I had the breakfast sandwich – very welcome after the inadequate Continental breakfast that was offered at my lodging that morning. A Camino McMuffin?

The establishment was run by a cordial woman whose dress, carriage, and visage suggested she might not be a Spaniard. Another peregrino placing an order asked her, hesitantly, if she spoke English. She responded, “I’m Irish, but I speak English.” Several peregrinos present chuckled at that.

So, paying for my cafe con leche and Camino McMuffin on the way out, I told her that one week later I would be in Dublin. What should a peregrino do in Dublin? “I suppose you should sip a pint of Guinness!”

I told her I would, and have followed through on the promise!

Melide is 53 km from Santiago. It is the point of convergence between the Camino Primitivo and the very heavily traveled Camino Frances. There were peregrinos everywhere! Many albergues were there to house them. Many bars available to help them relax. A pleasant fountain graces the town square.

A cruciero welcomes the many peregrinos passing by and reminds them of the origin and purpose of their peregrenaciones.

By this time I had caught up with the German couple. I spotted them as they proceeded through town, I hailed them from my comfortable seat at a cafe. We acknowledged each other and compared notes. They were planning to continue another 6 km that day (it was early evening by that time) to Boente where there were two albergues that between them could accommodate 76 peregrinos – and hoped to complete their travel to Santiago the next day

That would be quite a long day, indeed! [Do the math: 53 km – 6 km = 47 km * 0.62 = 29.14 miles.] But, intrepid peregrinos that they are, off they went. I returned to my lodging and got a good night’s sleep.

From Melide onward, I was (largely) repeating several days I had walked in 2015 when I walked the Camino Frances. “Largely” because the Camino is always being rerouted for various reasons, one of which is peregrino safety. The many involved jurisdictions want to encourage visitors to walk the Camino. Among other things, that means keeping them off the highways and other primary thoroughfares.

The province of Galicia, within which Santiago is situated, hosts vastly more pregrenios than any other jurisdiction. The Junta de Galicia has appropriated over €500,000 for improvements to the Caminos that traverse Galicia. This includes improvements to drainage, construction of new sendas (track separated from thoroughfares) and waymark monuments and an occasional placard affixed to a wall.

The waymark monuments are noteworthy because they include a single incised (carved) arrow painted yellow indicating the direction of onward travel, and an incised “signature” logo of Galicia (painted black) at the bottom attesting to the authenticity and implicitly the validity of the waymark. These new (or updated) waymarks have been strategically placed at virtually every junction or crossroads on The Way in Galicia where a peregrino could get lost or be uncertain about The Way. Older waymark monuments apparently have been sandblasted to achieve the same “carved” and painted signatures.

The particular design is important because the carved arrow cannot easily be tampered with as is the case with a simple yellow arrow painted on a rock or other surface. That carved arrow, in accounting lingo, constitutes a good control mechanism.

I wondered whether the new waymark monuments would supplant the need for the ubiquitous yellow arrows that guide peregrinos on other parts of The Way. I think the answer is “no.” This collection is in Pedrozo.

Over the next three days, I walked in tandem with a peregrina from North Dakota. This was not her first experience on the Camino and would not be her last this year. She had injured herself during her first peregrinacion and completed it on crutches! That’s commitment!

In Boenta, the Igrexa Santiago welcomes pilgrims and offers a selle for their credentiales.

Other experiences along The Way from Arzua (where the Camino del Norte joins the Camino Frances) to Santiago:

A monument to a chicken graces the small plaza before the town hall in Arzua. (This is new since I passed through in 2015.)

Also, a barracks to the Guardia Civil, a paramilitary force with a complex history in Spain.

There were many cyclists along The Way. All were friendly, but alas, not all warned peregrinos on foot of their often high speed approach.

The monument identifying the outskirts of Santiago cheered all peregrinos passing by. This is where I left Elizabeth’s rock in 2015.

From here, it is all downhill!

The plaza before the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela is as grand as I remember it from earlier visits.

[wpvideo qwdmT61a]

The parador in the plaza.

Having had a day or so to reflect, here are my thoughts.

First, I was somewhat bemused and somewhat disappointed to observe peregrinos with earbuds in place proceeding along The Way. How can you be in the moment, how can you reflect, how can you have a religious or spiritual journey listening to something that takes you out of the moment. I don’t believe they were listening to Gregorian Chants or the Missa Solemnis.

And to add injury to insult, I observed quite a number of peregrinos holding their cell phones and actually carrying on extended cell phone conversations as they marched on. They were in their own moment, but it was not a moment on The Way.

Second, I was disappointed to observe that virtually all waymarks from Melide to Santiago had been “annotated” – to employ a term that gives too much credit to what, in fact, is simple graffiti.

Further, the “distance to Santiago” plaquards previously glued to an inset into the waymark monuments had all been removed. As were some of the ceramic conchas. I believe they were taken as souveneirs, rather than removed during the Galicia improvement process because they might no longer have been accurate. Some of the ceramic conchas were partly in place, a corner broken off, suggesting that it had been broken when a collector attempted to pry it off the monument.

So it seems that with the astronomical increase in the popularity of the Camino, and with the saturation of the experience with young people with characteristic exuberance, the quality of the experience has changed in just the four years since my peregrenacion on the Camino Portugues (2014). This should not discourage the gentle reader from walking the Camino. After all, in times gone by peregrinos encountered robbers and other brigands as part of their pilgrimage. Know that you make your own Camino experience. It is yours alone.

In Santiago, my Map App was unavailable because my cell phone was out of battery. Eventually I was directed by kindly merchants to my small hotel in the old town. There I discovered a new kiosk. . . central to a new-to-me business model . . . and cousin to the ubiquitous ATM.

Call it an ADCM – automatic desk clerk machine. Upon confirming your identity by scanning your passport or national identity card, and confirming your reservation, the ADCM vends a keycard that admits you to the property and to your room. The property in fact has an on-the-property desk clerk/manager during the morning and afternoon. Then the ADCM takes over! Actually the device is feasible for this property because the owners have five other properties in Santiago and several have all night desk coverage. Those non-automatic desk clerks can rush to the guest’s assistance if the ADCM is recalcitrant. Time marches on.

The next morning, I was up early and presented myself at the Pilgrim Office well before it opened at 8 am. I was third in line, received my compostela swiftly, and set out to enjoy the city. It was bustling with peregrinos arriving in large number, and others setting out for Finesterre and Muxia. And gaggles of tourists alighting from luxurious tour busses with guides leading them through the old town.

I attended the pilgrim mass at the cathedral. (There is one at noon each day and one at 7:30 Friday evenings.) The cathedral is undergoing external and internal reconstruction. As in the past, it was standing room only. The organ is an awesome instrument, and a work of art in its own right.

Even so, the mass included the swinging of the giant incense burner – the Botafumeiro. I did not photograph it this year, but see FCB #10.

I found a quiet chapel in the cathedral and lighted a candle for the late wife of a good friend. She was also my friend.

And outside, I looked for someone to take my picture with the cathedral in the background.

I waited for a time, and happily, I saw the Polish girl walking into the plaza. She was pleased to capture an image of me at our common destination. She was headed home that evening. I asked her to greet her friend for me. He was going on to Finisterre the next day.

I was sad not to see the others with whom I had walked in tandem. But all were off to their own adventures and, after all, so was I.

What’s next?

Hard to say. Perhaps another walk in the UK? The Camino Ingles? The Camino Portugues along the coast? Or somewhere in Hong Kong, Shanghai, or Chengdu or Tibet? Time will tell.

With that, I’m headed home. Thank you for following these chronicles. I’ll post again next year.

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy Returns to the Camino Primitivo

Lugo, España – September 11, 2017

 

The bus ride from Pamplona to Oviedo was long, but interesting. The intercity buses in Spain – most operated by ALSA – are comfortable and swift. They assign seat reservations which gave me a window seat for much of the journey. More beautiful Spanish countryside and a nice view along the coast for part of the way.

My lodging in Oviedo was directly across the street from the major retail shopping district. Very few restaurants there, but eventually several appeared as I strolled through town. The cathedral is illuminated at night. Truly grand!

The next day, ALSA took me from Oviedo to Tineo where I formally rejoined the Camino Primitivo by securing a selle (stamp) in my credencial del peregrino. The hotel there is a dual facility – a well appointed albergue in the basement with the usual communal bathrooms and sleeping cubicles. This en suite peregrino chose a room upstairs in the hotel. The staff was most helpful in reserving for me accommodation for the next night in Berducedo where I overnighted after walking the Hospitales Route. In fact, the accommodation was in the same casa rural that I stayed in last year when I arrived in Berducedo after walking the Pola de Allande alternate to the Hospitales Route. But. . . there were no private rooms for this or any other peregrino booking so late! I was grateful to secure a bed in the albergue in the basement of the casa rural. It was clean, the other peregrinos respectful of each other, and I slept well.

The gentle reader will recall that last year I walked to Berducedo via the path through Pola de Allande – longer than the Hospitales route, but easier on the legs and with the opportunity to overnight half way in Pola. This year, I decided to walk the Hospitales route – again like the Napoleón Route – over the mountain rather than around it.  Why engage these challenges? Like Sir Edmund Hillary said, “because it was there.”  I don´t fancy myself Sir Edmund, but the rationale seems to me to apply here.

I engaged a taxi from Tineo to take me to Borres, a tiny village not far from where The Way divides with one path to Pola and one to the mountain.

I had walked to that point last year before choosing to follow the route through Pola. The Way from Borres starts with a climb. Hey, this is the Camino!

The minders of the Camino, in this case the government of Asturias, were quite direct in informing peregrinos of their choices where the Way splits. Distance and elevation both were addressed.

The Hospitales Route is 16.5 kilometers (10.23 miles) in length from Borres to Montefurado and involves many ascents and descents. 

There are no facilities on the Hospitales Route. No food, no water, no connectivity! Peregrinos are well advised to be well provisioned before they start. I had three bottles of water of varying sizes, some bread left over from breakfast, and a can of prepared peas and meatballs I had purchased in Tineo. (I also had my trusty 3-in-1 dining tool – part spoon, part fork, and part serrated knife.)

Before launching on the first real ascent, the Camino Primitivo passes through a tiny village.  As is often the case, The Way passes by small chapels that are still in use.

After surmounting the first real ascent of the day, peregrinos were greeted by a solitary bovine who seemed unconcerned – perhaps bemused – by our arrivals and departures.

We saw many more cattle, sheep, and horses along The Way. We also saw beautiful scenery, sometimes partially shrouded in fog.

And the Hospitales.

La Parodiella.

Fanfaron.

Valparaíso.

Eventually the Hospitales Route unites with the route through Pola after a long climb, which ever route the peregrino has chosen.

From here it is a long way down from the mountain, but eventually the peregrino reaches Berducedo and – hopefully a place to lay one´s weary body.

Out of curiosity, as I massaged my feet after the day´s walk, I checked the “Health” App on my iPhone, mindful that I had walked not only the 16.5 km over the mountain, but an additional 7.4 km to get to Berducedo.  The App reported as follows. . .

Steps for the day:  24,484.

Distance walked:  8.9 miles.

WHAT?

Then the kindly App, seeking always to improve the well-being of its accolytes admonished me:

“Sit less, move more, get some exercise.”

Whereupon, mindful that I had just walked 15 challenging miles that day, I determined to delete that App.  Take that, “Hal.”

Peregrinos and those who attend them are not the only inhabitants of Berducedo.

Having walked from Berducedo to Grandas de Salime last year, I opted for a taxi that allowed me to continue my peregrenacion without unduly repeating what I accomplished last year. I sent my bag along to A Fonsagrada but asked the driver to drop me at Grandas de Salime where I could pick up where I left off last year. I began at the Collegiata  de El Salvador.

The Way traverses pleasant countryside which included this eucalyptus plantation.  It is a species of eucalyptus with which I am unfamiliar.  Eucalyptus can be raised for raw material in papermaking.

I returned to Pension Casa Monolo in A Fonsagrada, the same accommodation where I spent one night last year. I remembered the innkeeper, and he remembered me!

Down the block was a cruciero reminding the faithful of their faith.

There was a festival going on that weekend.

A caballero and his horse danced nimbly with a señora in traditional garb while the townsfolk watched approvingly.

[I am sorry that my intended longer recording did not take.]

Townsfolk in traditional costumes danced and others played Asturian bagpipes.

There were a selection of amusements for children. 

That evening the dancers and musicians called at Pension Casa Monolo and performed again.

From Fonsagrada, I continued until I reached O Cadavo.

Again, having previously walked the stage from Cadavo to Lugo, I indulged in onward travel by intercity bus the next day which brought me swiftly to Lugo, in time to return to the wall built by the Romans that rings the ancient city.

The gentle reader will recall that almost exactly one year ago, I was forced to curtail my peregrenacion because of delays I had experienced due to weather – hot, cold, and wet – depending on the stage along The Way. See FCB #26.

Well, I´m back, with the rock that I took then from the battlement way by the cathedral.

[Nothwithstanding possible technical issues in this presentation, I believe the video will play in the appropriate orientation.  FCB]

I spent a few minutes exploring, as I had done last  year, the graffiti posted near the cathedral.  Again, see FCB 26.  The one about Stalin was still there, and not challenged.

And nearby there was a new one, I believe (from the style), offered by the same anarchist.

And as I reported last year, there are many grand structures awaiting rehabilitation.

I will continue the Camino Primitivo tomorrow, making my way over several days to Melide where the Camino Frances and the Camino Primitivo converge.

I´ll post again after I reach Santiago.

With that, I´m off!

 

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Route Napoleón

Pamplona, España – September 4, 2017

The flights from Glasgow to Paris and  on to Biarritz were comfortable and uneventful. The  city bus from the airport to the Bayonne SNCF station – a  block from my hotel, cost all of €1,00 and I had a nice talk with an American couple who were about to launch on their long-planned and greatly anticipated first Camino.

I decided to sleep in that night since  peregrinos are generally ousted from their albergue lodgings by 0830 each morning. The sleep was good but the  logistics turned out not to be great. I had intended  to take a 1215 train to St. Jean but considered that getting on The Way earlier than mid-afternoon would be a good
idea. So I asked the hotel to call me a taxi. I inquired of the driver of the cost to take me to St. Jean. €100,00 was the response.

Yikes!

That was decidedly more than a poor pilgrim should spend on
the first day of the Camino.

So I apologized to the driver for the inconvenience – observing that I didn’t even have €100,00 – and walked a block to the railroad station. (And stayed on the outlook for an ATM.)  The  ticket to St. Jean cost €7,60, a bus was substituted for the rail service that day, and I didn´t arrive until about 1330.

Upon arrival in St. Jean, I proceeded to the Pilgrim Office, received a sello (stamp) in my Credencial del Peregrino – my Pilgrim Passport that verified my status as a pilgrim and that would verify my peregrenacion upon arrival in Santiago.

I was ahead of the crowd arriving at  the Pilgrim Office. When I left, a long line had formed.

I headed for the Porte D’Espagne, the ancient gateway into Spain, purchasing what would be the first of many bocadillos – Spanish for “sandwich” – that keep body and soul together midday on The Way. Bocadillos generally consist of a couple of thin slices of ham slapped inside a crusty roll without benefit of mustard, mayo, lettuce or tomato.

They keep body and soul together, but would not be confused with a culinary triumph.

St. Jean Pied-de-Port translates as “St. John at the Foot of the Pass.” The pass in question is a gap in the Pyrenees through which the Camino path proceeds, and through which Napoleón withdrew his forces in 1812 toward the end of the Iberian Peninsular War
(retreating back to France in the face of the assault by Anglo-Portuguese forces). Local signage identifies the path as the Route Napoleón. Since this is Basque country, all official signage is in both French and Basque.

The gentle reader may recall from my post from Pamplona on April 7, 2015 (republished on April 14) (FCB ·12.1) that I had intended to walk the Napoleón Route to Roncesvalles when I intially walked the Camino Frances, but was warned off by the hospitaleros at the Pilgrim Office who reported that the mountain was closed because of snow, and that pilgrims had sometimes become lost in the snow, and died on the mountain. (This is a premise of Martin Sheen´s movie, The Way.) So in 2015 I walked the alternative route through Valcarlos.

This year, I came back to take on the challenge of the Napoleón Route.

The time was 1420, definitely later that I had hoped to start, when I started  the climb – and what a climb it was. Up. Followed by more Up. Followed by more Up. No undulating pathways (until the very end of the hike that day).

But there were beautiful views along the way.

I arrived at Albergue Orisson at 1715. I was very glad to be there. I got the last bed in the albergue, fortunately having made a
reservation three months in advance of my hike.

The shower felt very good, indeed, though the automatic clock shut off the water at exactly five minutes. Thankfully, I had been forewarned!

As is always the case, the peregrino commaradarie is palpable. Dinner at Orisson that night was communal – a rich vegetable soup, roast chicken, mixed (albeit stewed too long) vegetables, bread, water, wine, and an assortment of small deserts. Yum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the way up to Orisson, I passed a group of Spaniards who were walking as a group. Two of them were blind – each walking with one stick and holding to the backpack of a colleague. The gentleman toward the  end of the table with the dark glasses was one.

The Camino attracts all manner of pilgrims. Some are quite courageous. These gentlemen are among that number. Their bravery recalled for me another pilgrim I met along the Camino
Frances in 2015. She was an older woman with no legs. She had a fifth wheel bolted to her wheelchair and was using her arms to “crank” her way to Santiago.
 
The bunk was comfortable and the other nine peregrinos in the bunkroom were considerate. Unfortunately, two  of the younger but lamentably overweight men in the room snored loudly until about 0300. No one else slept until the snoring stopped. There were quiet hushed conversations to this effect at day brake. This is not unusual in the albergues, and accounts for my determination to proceed as an “en suite peregrino” whenever posible. It´s darn hard to hike if you haven’t had a good night’s sleep.

Dawn from Orisson. A beautiful vista, but rain clouds on the horizon!

After a characteristically inadequate Continental breakfast the next morning, we all set out to complete the 14 km trek up the mountain and through the pass. I shared part of The Way with an American couple.  We would cross paths several times over the next days.

We were met with more beautiful vistas, and a statue of the Virgin Mary at Pic de Orisson atop an outcropping of rock along  the way.

Further along there was a simple shrine to a peregrino who died on The Way.

The rain came later that morning and obscured most photo opportunities.

A fellow peregrino took this picture of  me just on the “other side” of the pass.

From here, the trail was generally level or slightly undulating,
eventually crossing a cattle guard that was strategically placed at the border between France and Spain. Pilgrims welcomed. Cattle, sheep, and goats, not! There were no other formalties.  A bit farther along, The Way passes the ruins of a customs house long ago abandoned.

The total meters ascended over the two days was 1390! The highest point – Col de Lepoeder – is 1450 meters above sea level.

I overnighted at Roncesvalles at a hotel there. Good thing I had a reservation – all 120 spaces in the albergue were taken and there were no vacancies at any of the other facilities. The number of expectant pilgrims overwhelmed the capacity of the entire town.

Dinner was good and I slept well, “en suite peregrino” that I am.

The next day, I embarked again on The Way From Roncesvalles  it proceeds through a gentle Wood.  Rain was falling.

As the wood opens into a nearby village, it passes a cross,  one of many to be encountered on The Way.

A nearby post had been annotated by a supporter of Basque independence.

Murals greet the passing peregrinos welcoming them to the village of Burguete Auritz.

The early morning rain created challenges along The Way. But nothing great enough to stop or discourage an enthusiastic peregrino.

A memorial shrine at the top of a long climb was a welcome discovery.

There were some tough climbs in the  rain. Eventually the sky cleared, permitting this vista to be captured. The ruins are of
a former pilgrim inn, Venta de Puerto.

The large cohort of peregrinos who had descended on Roncesvalles on the previous day did not bode well for finding accommodation at Zubiri, the next town of any size to speak off. There had been speculation among those of us who had not reserved in Zubiri about what we would find when we got there. As it turned out, our fears were wholly justified. The whole town was sold out.

The several albergues in the town had beds for 142 pilgrims plus a few in private rooms.  The five pensions and two hotels also were sold out.  Yikes!

What to do? A cohort of four peregrinos – three American women and a gentleman from Cape Town, South Africa with whom I had been hiking in tandem, arrived ahead of me in Zubiri. The proprietress of a pension in town had located a small albergue out of town that could accommodate them. Fortunately, it also was
available to me.

Xavier, the hospitalero, drove to Zubiri, collected us, and brought us to the private albergue  he and his wife operated in Ilarratz, about
three kilometers farther along The Way from Zubiri. He also provided at no charge a lift to a nearby restaurant which offered a very good pilgrim menú for €12,00.

The albergue is so new that it is not listed in the several guides to the Camino.  Here is contact information. 

Albergue Ezpeleku

Ilarratz

+34 (country code for Spain) 948 30 47 21

A view of The Way from Albergue Ezpeleku.

Two Australian women found the facility on their own, hiking out of Zubiri before we had arrived. We enjoyed overnighting with them at the albergue, having walked in tandem with them on and off during the day.

Peregrinos refilling their water bottles at a fonte near the alberque.

A little farther along, a 12th Century Abbey stands in remarkably good repair.

The Basques do not shrink from declaring their national identity.

Along the way, peregrinos had arranged the rocks to make a waymark for those who followed.

The Way follows the River Arga all the way to Pamplona.

The Way passes another memorial to a peregrina whose peregrenacion ended before she reached Santiago.

Noisy geese guard a privately owned manor house and chapel in Arleta.

The entry to Pamplona is scenic, but along a noisy motorway.

An ancient bridge over the River Arga. (I remember it well from 2015!)

It was good to make it back to Pamplona.  It is a fun city, and upon reflection, the one I enjoyed the most during my 2015 peregrenacion on the Camino Frances.

A walk along the battlements of old yielded a view of the suburbs of Pamplona . . . of new!

Many cyclists cycle The Way. They are acknowledged with emplacements through the old town in Pamplona.

(This is another one for you, Stephen! Buen Camino!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, inevitably, political graffiti, the meaning of which is not clear to this peregrino.

The running of the bulls is celebrated even when they aren´t  running.  As is Ernest Hemingway.

The cathedral in Pamplona is grand and inspiring.  A magnet for Camino walkers and responds.  There is a wonderful plaque before the entrance.  It captures the many ways to say “Buen Camino!”

Having had a day to contemplate the completion of the Napoleon Route, I am glad I did it.  I´m sore and tired.  The baby steps I take on gravel trails meandering up and down mountain passes – to guard against falls – are hard on the calf muscles and the feet too!  But it was a worthwhile endeavor.

And Jim was with me every day.

Tomorrow I am off by bus to Oviedo, and then on to Tineo and Campiello to complete the peregrenacion along the Camino Primitivo that I began last year.

I´ll post again from Lugo.

With that, I´m off!

Knute Michael

 

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Fog City Boy on the West Highland Way

Glasgow, Scotland – August 29, 2017

The transit from San Francisco to Aberdeen was quite comfortable – Aer Lingus provided wonderful service and the best airline food in memory.

We enjoyed elegant and cordial hospitality at the Royal Northern and University Club in Aberdeen, and had a good cruise around the Aberdeen harbor and its approach. The bottle nosed dolphins were playful and entertaining.

No maritime pilots to be seen, though we did see two pilot boats moored in the harbor. These pilots, skilled I am sure, have a transit of but minutes from boarding on before docking their vessels in the harbor. Not quite the same challenge as those faced by San Francisco Bar Pilots! The vessels tied up in the harbor did not resemble the ones I know from my time on the waterfront in San Francisco. But then, those ships in the Bay don’t service drilling rigs in the North Sea.

We were fortunate to have great stalls at His Majesty’s Theatre for a performance of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime.”  The theatre itself is worth the price of admission – wonderful design and how wonderful that it has been preserved.  The show was great and we recommend it to all!

We did a quick hop from Aberdeen to Kirkwall in the Orkney Islands. We spent a day and a half with local guides – a half-day city tour, followed by an out-trip to archeological sites of merit. Among them the spectacular Ring of Brogdar, a neolithic stone circle and henge monument, with the Loch of Harray in the background.

And the excavated village at Scara Brae.

Helen Woodsford-Dean and Mark Dean (reachable at http://www.spiritualorkney.co.uk) were our guides for both days. They are archeologists, formally trained as guides (required for licensing there), knowledgable, cordial, and accommodating. They went out of their way to search a windswept field to locate the very rare Orkney Primrose for us to see! We recommend them highly when you visit Orkney.

However, the Fog City Boy’s most memorable experience in Orkney was renting a right-hand drive Ford which the Fog City Boy managed to navigate around the island under Helen’s watchful eye. Somehow, I managed not to collide with anything or run off the narrow two-lane roads with no shoulder. I think the experience took 10 years off the lives of all aboard. And Helen has a new job description to add to her portfolio – coaching an experienced albeit orientationally-confused wrong way driver.

The Cullen Skink (a fish stew of potatoes, onion, and smoked haddock) we had for lunch was delicious. I tried haggis and found it palatable. After all, haggis is simply sausage without a casing.

And our visit to the Highland Park distillery was quite worthwhile. Learned a lot, and enjoyed a wee dram at the conclusion of the tour. I stand by my approval of their 12-year-old single malt offering. (The others are good, too!)

There are many takeaways from our Orkney visit:  Orkney is quite a ways North.  There is a lot of flat and a lot of wind.  Hey, get used to it!

And, as the Orkney folk are proud of pointing out – the nearest major railroad station is in Oslo, Norway! I think many yearn to be Vikings again! 

From Orkney we hopped to Edinburgh. We arrived as The Fringe was well underway. The Fringe is an annual festival in Edinburgh each August that increases the population from 800,000 to 1.2 to 2.0 million, depending on the day. There are perhaps 400 entertainment venues. Comedy seems to dominate but all genres are to be found. The most celebrated event is the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo performed most evenings adjacent to the Edinburgh castle – itself worth a visit. Alas, we were too late to book seats for the Tattoo. I suggest booking in April or May if you want to enjoy the stellar event.

 

Arthur’s Seat – Prequel to the West Highland Way.

Whilst in Edinburgh (the Brits do like their “st’s”) I decided to walk to the top of a local mountain styled “Arthur’s Seat.” The name derives from a Victorian assessment that the majestic peak would have been an appropriate location for King Arthur’s castle and seat of power, had he made it that far north. He did not, but the name stuck.

The hike is within a large public park – Holyrood Park – a rare example of unimproved grassland, effectively unchanged since its enclosure as a Royal Park in the 16th century.  From the starting point – the grounds of building housing the Scottish Legislature, one of the most architecturally ill-conceived buildings in Christendom – the 2.75 mile trail climbs 823 feet to the summit.

Some have scoffed that Arthur’s Seat is a hill, not a mountain.  However, (Bohemian) Robert Louis Stevenson described it as “a hill for magnitude [but] a mountain in virtue of its bold design.”

But no matter, the Way up, though steep and occasionally rocky, boasts dramatic and rewarding views of Edinburgh, the harbor, and the surrounding countryside.  I spent a couple of hours on the climb.

 

 

 

The way down was much shorter than the way up – or so it seemed. The climber finds waving grasses and a profusion of lovely Rosebay Willowherb as the trail unites with the road circling the mount.

The Willowherb accompanied me throughout my travel in Scotland.

A view of the mountain as dusk approaches.

We took ScotRail to Glasgow the next day. The West Highland Way followed soon thereafter.

 

The West Highland Way.

The West Highland Way was the first official long-distance footpath in Scotland. The idea was conceived in the 1960s but it took until 1980 for the Way finally to be declared open. The delay was necessitated by planning, gaining permissions from landowners through which the Way would pass, engineering and construction. The Way is well waymarked and getting lost would be difficult. However, though most of the Way passes through enjoyable, moderately challenging but not difficult territory, a number of segments are quite demanding indeed!

Fording streams with swift currents, ascending and descending steep inclines and staircases, persevering in the rain (did you know that it rains in Scotland? Frequently?) – all are part of the West Highland Way experience. Much of the Way is laid out on gravel paths, sometimes doubling as drainage troughs.

The thistle is the national flower of Scotland.  It is stylistically emblazoned on the waymarks along the West Highland Way.  This one is adorns the official start point in Milngavie.

Here’s one I found along the Way.  Someone annotated the waymark at its base!

And real thistles accompany the walker along the Way.

In the spirit of full disclosure, the Fog City Boy cannot claim to have walked the entire West Highland Way. On a single day, I combined two extremely strenuous stages (Rowardennan to Inversnaid, and Inversnaid to Inverarnan) which amounted to a mere 13 1/2 miles in total, but which were far more demanding than anything I had encountered on any of the Caminos I have walked. The challenge was mile after mile of unending ups and downs (politely called an “undulating” path) that required steep climbs up rocky outcroppings, back down and across streams with nothing but gravel and large stones offered as footfalls.

And, unlike most Camino paths, there are few opportunities to “set a spell,” enjoy a bar, grab a cafe con leche, with a place to rest one’s weary feet, or bail out if it is just too much for this day.  (Peregrinos reading – recall the many taxi phone numbers tacked to trees and posts along the Way!  You won’t find them on the West Highland Way!)

The next day was necessarily a recovery day. I would urge any future trekkers on the West Highland Way not to combine the available stages. Take it slow, don’t fall, have a pint when you get in, and get a good night’s rest before heading out again.

And then there was the night that the fire alarm went off at 2:45 am at Bridge of Orchy Hotel. It was nice getting to know all the other residents for 45 minutes while we were standing around in our sleeping costumes and waited for the false alarm to be shut off. Hiking the next day was not in the cards.

So, all in, all done, I walked about 2/3 of the 96 miles, including several sidetrips. But for the prepaid, non-refundable hotel reservations, the full distance was certainly achievable. Ahhh, the tyranny of the prepaid reservation.  No opportunity to chill, recover, and go again.  You just have to keep going.

That said, here are some images my walks along the West Highland Way.

Rivulets and waterfalls are ubiquitous along the Way.  I crossed literally hundreds of them.  So are wildflowers.  Here are a few.

 

Common Ragwort.

Ling Heather.

 Orchids growing wild along the roadside.

Steep hikes are rewarded with beautiful vistas.  This one is just outside Balmaha.

The Devils Staircase is about 800 feet of switchbacks.  There was a light rain that day.  Tiring but manageable.  Here and elsewhere, entrepreneurs seize the moment!

Walkers have constructed a cairn at the top of the Staircase.

And the vista is worth the climb.

We overnighted at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel, a charming four-star inn.  The stone bridge was constructed as part of a military road constructed in the 18th century.

The final day was challenging and rainy.  But the vistas, albeit under cloudy skies, were wonderful.

The Way passes the ruins of a farmhouse built long ago.

A thoughtful lady from England offered to take my picture along The Way.  Earlier, a walker from Canada asked my name.  I told her it was “Michael” and she thanked me.  “We wanted to know your name.  We have been calling you ‘the man in the hat’ for several days.”

Walkers on the West Highland Way, as with peregrinos on the Camino, are a friendly and supportive lot. 

Recurring companions on the Way were swarms of tiny insects known locally as “midges.” They are barely visible but they swarm and they bite. The bite itself is not painful, but it will raise a welt and remain for several days.

A good insect repellant might not keep the midges off of the walker, but it will dispatch most of the midges before they have you for lunch.

That said, the midges ought not be a deterant if you are considering walking the West Highland Way.  Take an insect repellant with you, and an itch cream to deal with the midges that get through your perimeter defense!

A final suggestion to prospective walkers of the Way – or any other trek – walk with two (not one) walking sticks. They will save you from many nasty falls, especially over rough terrain.

The official end of the Way is in the center of Fort William. I spent the night in Fort William, a pleasant town with a small harbor.

The official end of the West Highland Way in Fort William.  Note the sculpture on the bench – a walker examining his feet at the end of the trail!

 ScotRail the next morning brought me back to Glasgow and preparation for the Camino walks. I’ll post again from Pamplona.

With that, I’m off.

Knute Michael

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