Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

San Francisco, California – October 6, 2016

A friendly taxi driver returned me to Tineo from Pola de Allande shortly before noon that day. My lodging had been booked before I went to the festival, just as my lodging in Pola two days hence was booked before I left. So, what to do with the afternoon? As it turned out, there was a library in town and, like most libraries these days, it had a room full of computers with internet connectivity. I used the afternoon to clear my email and to make progress with my blog, and got to bed early.

The next day, I was up timely and resumed my perigrenacion. The route was moderately strenuous, but the views were breathtaking!

A panorama that includes Tineo:

Other views along The Way:

 

I arrived in Campiello in the early afternoon. There are two private albergues in that farming village. One is run by a charming and solicitous entrepreneur named Herminia. She actively manages a restaurant/bar, a grocery store, an albergue, and several single rooms that she rents. Also a sports club and a farm supply business.  A very nice young lady from Holland showed me to my lodging and helped me with more than one reservation for future evenings along The Way.  Her English was excellent!  She is a student of languages and working in Spain to develop her fluency in Spanish.

I enjoyed a good menu del peregrino that evening and met several interesting peregrinos in the process. Two were from England. One had just passed his exams and was about to be frocked as a solicitor. He and his friend were celebrating by walking the Camino Primitivo. They were on a tight schedule and were committed to making at least 30 km (20 miles) each day until they arrived at Santiago. We had a light breakfast the next morning and they were on their way.

There were four women from France who had taken what I think of as a novel approach to any Camino. Each day, three of them walked and one drove to their next destination. The next day, the driver walked and the driving duties were devolved on another member of the group. We walked in tandem for several days.

And, I met two young Americans. She was in the State Department and posted to the American embassy in Afghanistan. She had some interesting stories to tell, as you can imagine. Her friend, who lives in Northern Virginia, is a security consultant. He had interesting stories to tell, as well. We walked in tandem for several days.

The road from Campiello starts out flat, but doesn’t stay flat. A few kilometers after Camiello, The Way splits, offering the peregrino choices.

One route takes the pilgrim on a 20 plus km hike with beautiful views but no civilization of any kind for 16.5 km (about 10 miles) – no food, no water until reaching Montefurado. The alternative is longer but takes the pilgrim through Pola where one can rest before pressing ahead. I opted for the route through Pola.

The Way to Pola involved multiple climbs and descents.

I rested much better the second time I visited Pola de Allende than the first.  But, the fiesta memories are nonetheless good ones.  I continued on the next morning and encountered a lengthy climb that took me up and down ravines as the adjacent highway wound its way ever upward.

The most dramatic climb was the assent to Puerto del Palo (elevation 1146 meters). Fortunately, the weather was cooperative. Lovely little flowers along The Way cheered the passing peregrinos.

I met up with the two Americans at the crest of the mountain. The Way down was beautiful but treacherous.

The Way passes through the tiny village of Montefurado.

The Way actually passes through a cow pasture and then continues through dense mountain foliage.

Eventually The Way winds itself down into Berduceo. I had a reservation at Camin Antiguo (which I believe to be Camino Primativo in the Asturian language) – a private albergue that could provide a private room with an en suite bath. The shower felt very good. The albergue, located in the basement of a private home, sported a “two star” rating as an albergue. This was the first time that I had encountered a rating system for albergues. The private rooms were on the second floor.

After my shower, I walked back to the center of this very small town where I found a number of other peregrinos gathered at a café/bar enjoying various refreshments. What an international gathering it was! A couple from England – he was Polish and she from Argentina. A couple from Ireland and another Irishman who would have been my contemporary. And the two young Americans. They had been very fortunate to get the last room at the pension in town. Berduceo, it seems, was sold out that night!

I noticed two Asian peregrinos – a young couple from South Korea.  They had just received that bad news that the pension in town was sold out and the albergues all were full.  Their faces betrayed a high level of anxiety.  I approached them and suggested they try for a room at the Camin Antiguo. Their English was good enough that they were able to follow my directions.  Luck was with them.  They got a room, and were greatly relieved to have a roof over their heads – especially because rain was forecast for the next day.

Meanwhile, the peregrino happy hour had continued to expand. Eventually we ran out of space at our table and moved to a larger one across the road that also was serviced by the café/bar.

And then came a remarkable, but very Camino-like, experience.

A peregrina from Holland, who likely is my contemporary or perhaps bit younger, strode up to the group and, in English, asked to address us.

She said that she knew that we were pilgrims and she wanted us to know about a telephone call she had just received from one of her sons who had called from Holland. He told her that his brother, her other son, who is in the Dutch Army and was part of the Dutch forces in Afghanistan, had been in a firefight with the Taliban. He was unhurt, but apparently, the emotional aftermath was such that he was being repatriated to Holland. The son who called would meet his brother at the airport. She just wanted to share that with us, she said.

We were all supportive of her, of course. The young American woman and I exchanged glances, but she did not volunteer her posting to Afghanistan. Later she and I talked and agreed that the young soldier undoubtedly was experiencing PTSD.

The Camino truly brings out the best in people. Peregrinos help each other in many ways. We helped the peregrina from Holland by listening, and hearing. She needed to unburden herself and trusted us to be there for her. And we were.

Peregrinos are trusting of one another. I observed this phenomenon on both of my other Caminos. There is a commonality of experience and purpose that supports an openness that none of us would allow in our regular, non-Camino lives.

There was heavy rain that night.  My room included a continental breakfast in the morning prepared by the matron of the house.  We had no language in common, but when she looked out the window and said, “malo!” I didn’t need a Spanish-English dictionary to translate her observation.

The day brought interesting countryside and a long descent through a pine forest, eventually arriving at Embalse de Salime where I spent the night. It was, indeed, a rainy day, but I had my poncho and my Tilley (hat) and my walking poles, so the day was manageable, if damp.

The Way passes through severl tiny villages, farm land, and past a charming little chapel dedicated to Santa Maria de Buspol.

I noted that roofing materials had shifted from terracota tiles to slates. The mountain I would descend boasted frequent shale outcroppings.

The descent from Buspol was almost 6 km in length and required almost three hours.  Finally I reached bottom of the path and was pleased to encounter firm footing for the next kilometer or so!

The road led to Embalse de Salime, mostly a ghost town.  But one with a very decent small hotel and restaurant.

Embalse translates as reservoir.  And, indeed, there was a dam, a power station, and a hillside of buildings constructed to support the building of the dam in 1954.

Upon reaching the hotel, I called it a day, had a nice late lunch – a large one in the Spanish tradition – took a shower, and took a long nap. 

I’ll post again in a few days.

 

With that, I’m off.

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

San Francisco, California – September 30, 2016

Prior to departing for Spain, I had learned of a festival in the town of Pola de Allande through which the Original Way passes and through which I calculated I would pass on September 8th – the day the festival concludes. I was quite keen to experience this fiesta, and made a hotel reservation before I left San Francisco. Alas, arriving in Tineo on September 7th, I was too far behind in my perigrenacion to make it to Pola in time for the festival. Pola would be a two day walk from Tineo. 

What to do? What to do?

The answer was remarkably straightforward. Spend the night in Tineo and hire a cab to take me to Pola, about 25 km away, enjoy the festival, use my hotel reservation, and return to Tineo to continue on The Way. Taxis are remarkably affordable in that part of the world.  The rate is about 1 Euro per kilometer.

I was joined by a delightful young peregrina, originally from Portugal, but presently living in Montreal. She was deep into contemplation of challenges she was facing. She also was near-fluent in Spanish. I inquired of her about her fluency, and she confessed that she thinks in Portuguese and then gives those thoughts a Spanish pronunciation. It worked well for her.

When we arrived in Pola we met up with the young fellow from Ireland I had met at Hotel Soto in Salas. The three of us explored the town.

The municipal “city hall” was decked out for the fiesta.

Though it was a Thursday, all businesses except restaurants, cafes and hotels were closed.  The town was quiet, except for the recurring launches of pyrotechnics.

A pleasant river runs through the middle of town.

We visited a small chapel on the hill above the town center and were treated to the preparations for the annual procession honoring Nuestra Senora del Avellano, the patron saint of Pola de Allande.

The aerial explosions continued off and on through the late morning and early afternoon.

At mid-afternoon, after much of the town had finished a large and satisfying dinner, a procession wound its way from the chapel, through the town, and ultimately to the parish church in the town center. The procession was led by altar boys and men of the town carried the statue of Nuestra Senora, followed by a large delegation of townsfolk. It was quite a show.

It was mid-afternoon after the procession reached the church and my fellow peregrinos decided to press ahead and stay at the alberque 3 km further along the Camino at Penaseita. I accompanied them to that tiny village, bid them buen Camino! and returned by taxi to Pola to take in the continuing festivities.  The peregrina and I gave each other a big hug as I headed to the taxi.  I hope she found answers to her questions as she pursued her perigrenacion.

The plaza had become the temporary home of “carny” games, trampolines, and other amusements.  And the pyrotechnics got bigger and better!

And later in the evening, two rock bands entertained the crowds.

The music continued until 3:30 the next morning when it abruptly stopped! I think city officials pulled the plug! I had returned to my hotel about 11:30 and drifted off – not asleep, not awake.  Despite my best efforts, getting up early the next morning was not an option. However, eventually I emerged from my room, had a light breakfast, and returned by taxi to Tineo to rejoin the Camino Primitivo.

I’ll post again in a few days.

 

With that, I’m off!

Knute Michael

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Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

Lugo, Galicia, Spain – September 18, 2016

As promised, I am continuing to compose and publish blog entries. Thank you for your patience!

I departed Oviedo timely, though a bit later that morning than I intended. The late departure allowed me to have a good (hot) breakfast which is always a good thing. A continental breakfast (bread, butter, cheese, and jam) isn’t enough to sustain a peregrino for long, as I have previously commented.

The Original Way from Oviedo begins, appropriately, at the cathedral. There isn’t much to go on in terms of waymarks. All yellow arrows, if there ever were any, have been exised – perhaps in the name of quiet enjoyment of the cathedral plaza and adjacent streets. Camino supporters with yellow spraycans occasionally become overly enthusiastic. I wandered for a while because not only were there no waymarks, the streets were not identified. Eventually my guidebook as augmented by Maps App got me on the right track. Brass conchas lead the way.

It was a Sunday morning and Oviedo hadn’t awakened yet. I had the streets mostly to myself. As I approached the residential neighborhoods through which the Original Way passes, I felt good to be on my way. The Way passes by a park dedicated to the Camino and to the pilgrims who persue it.

And, predictably, a peregrino with a sense of humor left his mark:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Way meanders into semi-rural countryside and eventually comes upon the Capilla del Carmen, a small chapel welcoming peregrinos with a place to rest and a sello for the pilgrim’s credencial. Inside a priest was saying mass. 

Pressing on, the Way continues through lovely countryside and small villages.

At the top of a steep climb, I doffed my mochilla, and luxuriated in the confort of a bus shelter. A few minutes later a young German peregrina arrived and she, too, took the opportunity to luxuriate in the recovery provided by the bus shelter.

Bus shelters on the Camino are almost as important as yellow arrows!

We chatted a bit and I learned that she was a social worker in Germany on holiday from her duties overseeing and counseling unaccompanied immigrants ages 14-18. She spoke passionately of the hardships they have endured whense they came, and the challenges they face in their new country. I concluded that she alternatively served as “mommy, auntie, sister, and teacher.” She added one more role, “policeman.” Sometimes she must enforce the rules, it seems.

We walked on and discovered a bar/restaurant that provided not only shade from the sun, but also refreshments. We took a table and shortly thereafter were joined by three more German pilgrims. Although my German is passable for simple communication, predictably, everyone else´s English was better than my German. So we spoke English. Nice folks.

I pressed ahead, crossing a Romanesque bridge en route,  and eventually reached Grado about 1800 that evening. I had a reservation for a private room at the Hotel Autobar, a hostlery that is popular with peregrinos. When I arrived I was greeted warmly and sent to a room with two bunkbeds. Shades of an alberque! I took a shower and went down to the bar/comedor and asked for the pilgrim menú, a simple three course dinner generally availabale to pilgrims on the Camino. It comes with water or wine and bread. The cost, generally no more than €10.

And then, the Germans arrived! The house was almost full, but accommodations were made, and I ended up with two of the Germans as bunkmates. The nice young social worker and one of the guys. Shades of an alberque!

The social worker teasingly pointed out that my blog was about a “Monkey Camino” because I had consistently misspelled “Primitivo.” I had spelled it, “Primativo.” Yikes! And a shout out to my social worker friend.  I think I have made the necessary corrections!

The Germans were up early the next morning and out the door while I was still nursing a café con leche. I have not seen them since. The day from Grado to Cornellana was not a long day, but it was hot and there were mountains to climb. I arrived dripping with perspiration and feeling grimy. I was somewhat surprised that the hotel keeper actually rented me a room in her very nice Hotel **. Her comment to me upon arrival: “Mucho calor.” No kidding.

The town hosts a partially ruined monistary which I passed on The Way next morning.

 

 

 

 

The day was another hot day and it was enervating. There were things along the way to see. Fontes and ancient structures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But my most pressing need was for a place to recover, cool off, and contemplate. The guidebook identifed a bar/alberque just ahead. But when I got there, my worst fears were confirmed.

It was a Monday, and apparently the entrepreneur/hospitalero had taken the day off.

What to do? Simple, sit on a ledge of the church across the road, break out a can of sardines and some bread I had saved from breakfast, and settle in to a mid-afternoon feast! Not perfect, but enough of a recovery to facilitate the last push that would take me to Salas, a good sized town with all facilities with a gentle river running through town.

 

 

 

 

 

There was only so much forward movement of which I was willingly capable. I called a halt at Salas, only 12 km from Grado. I made my way to Hotel Soto * hopeful of a place to stay. I was fortunate. A kindly hotel keeper showed me a very clean and satisfactory room and I happily moved in. She also showed me, and an Irish peregrino also staying there, a patio with a clothes line and plenty of clothes pins. Apparently she had met peregrinos before and knew we would be doing our laundry, with or without benefit of a place to dry our clothes.

The town is the home of a handsome 16th century church and adjacent tower fortification. Both were worth a look. The tower is open to the public for a nominal fee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day took me to Tineo. The weather was moderating. The countryside continued to be lovely. But I had fallen behind in my intended itinerary. It became apparent to the Fog City Boy that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to Santiago in time to get the flight from Paris to SFO. I had contemplated not buying a return ticket before leaving San Francisco.  But I didn’t follow my own advice. 

So, what to do?

I contemplated this challenge as I proceeded from Salas to Tineo.

Reality had collided with enthusiasm. I decided to adjust my expectations and shoot for Lugo (where I am composing this post) as an achievable destination for this part of my peregrenacion. I decided to walk the Camino Primitivo in two segments. I’m on a train tomorrow morning to Madrid, and from there to Paris CDG. I’ll return next year and complete the Camino Primitivo. I will finish what I started.

I’ll coninue blog entries in a few days.

With that, I´m off!

Knute Michael

[If you are a new reader of this blog, you may wish to become a follower.  If so, click on ¨follow¨at the lower right side of your viewing screen.  You will receive entries as they are posted.  This option may not be available on cell phones.]

Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

Oviedo, Asturias, Spain – September 3, 2016

[Note:  This blog entry is published on a greatly delayed basis due to limitations of my WordPress platform and the non-availability of internet facilities along The Way.  This entry is actually published in the small town of A Fonsagrada on September 14th.  It now appears unlikely that additional internet facilites will be available until I return home from the Camino.  That said, I intend to continue the blog, albeit on a delayed basis.  Thank you for your patience!]

The transit from San Francisco to my starting point of Villaviciosa was good. That is to say, it was wholly uneventful. Eventful travels usually are not good.

United Airlines got me to London Heathrow where I cleared immigration, reclaimed my mochilla and caught an express bus for Stansted – one of the other three London airports. After a compfortable night at a hotel at the airport, I arrived at STN with adequate time to board an easJet flight to OVD – the Asturias Airport that serves Oviedo. [Should you ever fly out of STN, be prepared for immersion in a huge shopping mall as you wend your way through innumerable duty free stores and luxury goods shops.  There must be at least 100 of them.  Allow an extra half hour to push your way past!] This all happens after you clear secuity!

At the Asturias Airport, clearing immigration was swift, the mocihlla was waiting for me, and I was off in minutes aboard a series of comfortable busses that ultimately brought me to Villaviciosa.

I wandered through the town quite lost.  En route, I found a busy grocery store – locally styled supermercado – where I bought my two tins of sardines that I carry as standby nourishment in the event that a better alternative eludes me on The Way.

Eventually I espied a yellow waymark! There is nothing more reassuring to a peregrino than a yellow arrow, which affirms that you are not really lost again.

I had to reverse engineer my travel through town because I had connected with the Primitivo a bit past town central where I had planned to spend the night. I back tracked and found the 13th Century Church of Santa Maria de la Oliva. The Way – any of the official Ways – almost always passes by the church in the towns through which the pilgrim will travel.

From there, finding Hotel Carlo I (the First) was easy. It is a pilgrim friendly hotel and accommodated my need to be up and out earlier than their usual breakfast hour. They gave me my first sello [stamp] in my credencial [pilgrim passport – which attests to the peregrenacion and qualifies the pilgrim for a compostela upon arrival in Santiago].

At the recommendation of the hotel owners, I had a nice menu del dia for lunch at Restaurante Casa Milagros just down the street two blocks. Shrimp soup followed by codfish and garbanbzo stew, bread and wine. Desert was available but I delined. All ths for €11. Sitting at the table by the front door, I noticed a laundromat across the street. A special blessing. I washed all my travel clothes for €5 and they dried overnight back at Hotel Carlo I.

I toured the town which has both historic buildings and newer ones supporting the arts.

I was up early the next morning, did my daily stretches, enjoyed the breakfast hotel staff had set out for me the night before, threw on my pack, grabbed my sticks, and headed out on the Camino Primitivo.

The commercial part of town swiftly gives way to residential communities and then to rural contryside. Thirty minutes after leaving the hotel, I heard the stinctive “clack-clang” of cowbells. And then there were cows.  That clack-clang would  follow me all through Asturias, just as the cuckoo followed me along the Camino Frances last year.  Hmmmmm.  Not  exactly the same.

Asturias has two principal agricultural foci: Dairy farming, and apples. I have seen lots of cows and lots of apple orchards in my first two days on the Primitivo. The Principality of Asturias is located on the Bay of Biscay, and fishing is a priminant industry as well. Seafood is ubiquitous in local restaurants. Along with sidra – a fermented apple cider found in all bars and restaurants I have encounterd so far. It is served in such a fashion as to aeriate the beverage, enhancing the flavor.

I contined on the way and was quite taken by the beautiful countryside through which I passed.

Shortly later I came to the point at which the Camino del Norte and the Camino Primitivo divide. [Note that in Asturias, the hinge of the concha (scollop shell) points the way.  In Galicia, the reverse is true: the rays of the shell point the way.]

It is accompanied by a small chappel and a waymark attesting to the divide.

At this point, I met a plesant Belgian peregrina who was walking her third Camino, as am I.  Her native language is French and she understands a few words of English.  She is able to make herself understood in Spanish, fortunately, which benefitted me as we walked together for a few hours.

I encountered four cats on my first day on the Original Way:  Two black cats and two Siamese.  One of them was guarding a municipal garbage can that sported the highly sought after yellow arrow:

We encountered a very strenuous  climb, which took us to the crest of a major pass. Another pilgrim arrived at that point and we had to decide which of two routes to persue. He went the “upper” route (shorter but steeper) while we took the “lower” route. Both routes eventually reconverge. Along the way we encountered two memorable Camino expedriences.

Two Asturian gentlemen asked about our travels. I didn´t understand a word of what they said, but Anne Marie was able to converse with them.  They invited both of us into the neighborhood hangout they maintained and offered us sidra. How could we refuse? Why would we refuse?

First they offered a commercially brewed and bottled sidra. It was good! Alcohol content per the label was 4.8 percent. Then they offered their own preparation. I liked it better, and said so. Alcohol content per the gentlemen was 6 percent! We enjoyed our intruction to the serving of sidra, as you will observe in two videos that I hope to publish in the final “wrap up” of this chronicle once I return home to San Francisco.  [Technical limitations have subverted my ability to upload moderately large files, including some videos.]

Not wanting to get too relaxed, we thanked them for their gracious hospitality, and pressed on.

Shortly, we cam to the Oratory of San Salvador which dates from 893. We stopped for a tour and to get our credentiales stamped. The Oratory shares the compound with a Cistercian Monestary and an albergue de peregrinos.

Eventually we pressed on. The day was gettting hotter and the climbs were getting steeper. But we got through it, as did four young guys from Ireland who had caught up with us along the way. They are young, strong, and enthusiastic, and hope to complete the hike in 11 days. I plan to do it in 20 days!

Eventually we reached the small town of La Vega de Sariego where there is a small albergue. My Belgian colleague decided to call it a day, though the alberque wouldn’t open for another two hours. Pola de Siero had been my target destination for the day. It was another 10.6 km away. I considered the options. I felt, frankly, awful. But I decided to press on. We shook hands, wished each other buen camino! And I walked on ahead.

It is hard and a bit dangerous to seek a state of “no-mind” when on the Camino. The Camino sometimes traverses swiftly moving highway traffic, and the peregrino needs all his wits about him. Jim was with me on that first day of the Camino Primitivo. Exhorting me and reminding me that Pmax is about second efforts, third efforts, fourth efforts, and fifth efforts. Jim is with me everyday on The Way.

The Primitivo winds through a pleasant woods,

past a small country church,

and eventually emerges at Pola de Siero, a good size city with a substantial church in the center of the city.

I had hoped to stay there, but all the hotels were sold out. A friendly desk clerk pointed me to a nearby town with a hotel that accommodated me nicely. (The cab ride was swift, as was the one the next day that returned me to Pola.) Although I am not unwilling to stay in alberques, I am resigned to acknowledging that I am an “en suite” peregrino. I like my creature comforts.

I was NOT up early the next morning. I was fatigued when I went to bed and my circadians even as I pen this e-missive have not fully adjusted. I had slept about 11 hours when I arose just in time for a light breakfast. The clerk called a cab, and I set out on a relatively short (16.5 km) but hot day. I had had the foresight to book ahead in Oviedo. Finding the hotel with the benefit of my Maps App was not difficult.

The cathedral in Oviedo is quite grand and the artwork impressive, as are the relics in the Holy Room which include a cloth that covered Jesus face after the cruxifician. The cloth was smuggled from Jeruselum by Christians who did not want it destroyed by the Romans, eventually reaching Oviedo by way of North Africa. In front of the cathedral is a statue of Alfonso II who initiated construction of the cathedral.

Oviedo is a sizeable city and the capital of the Principality of Asturias. In addition to local folks, visitors flock to the old town to enjoy the restaurants and siderias. It was Friday night and a good time was being had by all.  I enjoyed savoring a glass of vino tinto and watching the show.

Today has been a recovery day for me.  I feel better and optimistic about tomorrowś trek.  I hope to be up and out early to beat the heat as best I can.

 

With that, I’m off.

Knute Michael

Note: If you are new to this blog and would like to follow it, click on the ¨Follow¨ button on the lower right side of your monitor screen. This feature may not be available on cell phones. – kmm

Fog City Boy on the Camino Primitivo

San Francisco, California – August 26, 2016

The Camino is again calling to me.  And I am preparing to answer the call.  The images below are from my Camino last year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Regular readers of this blog, or those who have scrolled back to earlier posts, will recall that in 2014, I walked the Camino Portugues from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostela, and in 2015, I walked the Camino Frances from St. Jean Pied de Port to Santiago.

This year, I will walk from Villaviciosa,  in the Principality of Austurias (Spain) to Santiago in Galicia, a distance of about 360 kilometers or 225 miles.  Though a shorter distance than either the Portugues or the Frances, the Camino Primativo winds through the Cantabrian mountains, and the elevation brings the Camino Primitivo its reputation as the most strenuous of the established Camino routes.  I will complete the perigrenacion in about three weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The banner at the top of the blog is composed of three images:  The first is the flag of the Principality of Austurias; the second is the Fog City Boy; and the third is the flag of Galicia, of which Santiago is the capital.

The Camino Primitivo means “the first Camino” – not the primitive camino.  In the year 813, King Alfonso II of Asturias was informed of the tomb of St. James in what is now Santiago de Compostela.  Alfonso departed Oviedo, his capital, and made his way to the site of the tomb at once, thus practically becoming the first person to complete a Camino (albeit not on foot).  Thus the “first” or “original” Way.

I leave San Francisco for Spain on August 29th.  I start walking on September 1st.  I hope you will follow my blog.  If you wish to do so, you may click on the “Follow” button on the lower right side of the screen.  You will receive my blog entries by email.

With that, I’m off!

Knute Michael

 

San Francisco, California – November 1, 2015 There is quite a community of peregrinos and others who will be peregrinos one day soon.  I have connected with two chapters of the American confraternity – American Pilgrims on the Camino.  One is the Nor-Cal chapter located in the San Francisco Bay Area.  The other is the Western North Carolina chapter centered in Asheville, NC. These chapters have meetings and often go hiking and share stories of their experiences. I met Laurie Ferris at one of those walks in Oakland, California.  She is doing a blog which you can find at http://www.thecaminoprovides.com. She interviewed me for her blog.  To visit her blog and see the video interview, click on the green link below. Buen Camino! Knute Michael Miller   Laurie A. Ferris posted: “What the “Camino Provides” means to Mike Miller At the October monthly peregrino walk, I interviewed Knute Michael Miller, AKA Fog City Boy, who I met at a previous walk around Lake Merritt. Mike shares his experience of walking the Camino de Santiago, ” Pilgrim Video Interview: Mike Miller by Laurie A. Ferris What the “Camino Provides” means to Mike Miller At the October monthly peregrino walk, I interviewed Knute Michael Miller, AKA Fog City Boy, who I met at a previous walk around Lake Merritt. Mike shares his experience of walking the Camino de Santiago, the importance of taking a rest day, and his take on what […] Read more of this post Laurie A. Ferris | October 25, 2015 at 12:53 pm | Tags: Camino de Santiago, Hiking, Pilgrim interview, Pilgrimage, The Camino Provides, video | Categories: Camino blogs | URL: http://wp.me/p6a0QC-ek Comment See all comments Change your email settings at Manage Notifications. Trouble clicking? Copy and paste this URL into your browser: http://thecaminoprovides.com/2015/10/25/pilgrim-video-interview-mike-miller/ Thanks for flying with WordPress.com

Fog City Boy on the Camino Francés

San Francisco, California – June 26, 2015

I returned to San Francisco four weeks ago, and, after plowing through nearly two months of accumulated snailmail, junk mail, and magazines I never read, had an opportunity to reflect on the Camino and my peregrinación. Here are some thoughts.

 

Comparing the Camino Portugués (2014) and the Camino Francés (2015).

Both Caminos are worthy and I can easily recommend them if you are looking for a good long – or not so long – walk. Upon reflection, I would recommend that a first time peregrino walk the Camino Francés. That is the best developed and most frequently walked of the several Ways. In effect, it defines the Camino experience.

Here are some statistics (source – my analysis of data in John Brierley’s guidebooks):

· Camino Francés: Distance from St. Jean to Santiago = 776.2 kilometers (482.3 miles) with aggregate elevation en route of 12,080 meters.

· Camino Portugués: Distance from Lisbon to Santiago = 615.6 kilometers (382.5 miles) with aggregate elevation en route of 6,665 meters.

Neither the lineal distances nor the elevations should be a deterrent. Some of the climbs are steep, but there aren’t very many of them. Pace yourself and you will do fine!

 

You don’t have to start in St. Jean or in Lisbon. Most peregrinos start closer to Santiago, although I met one peregrina who had started in Paris. And last year, I heard about a young peregrino who had started in Moscow!  And, if you want, you can ride a bike!  (Though you will need to cover 200 kilometers to qualify for a compostela.)

On the Camino Francés, frequent starting points are Roncesvalles, Pamplona, Burgos, Leon, and Sarria. (Sarria is 115 km from Santiago, and completing the Camino on foot from that point will qualify the peregrino to receive a compostela upon arrival in Santiago.)

On the Camino Portugués, frequent starting points are Porto and Tui. (Tui is 115 km from Santiago, and completing the Camino from that point, like Sarria, will qualify the peregrino to receive a compostela.)

That said, my recommendation for the Camino Portugués – if you don’t have time or interest in walking all the way from Lisbon – is to make your way to Lisbon, spend several days there exploring and enjoying the city, and then take a regional train to Tomar. There is a relatively new alberque there that is reputed to be quite commodious, and the Knights Templar castle is well preserved and seeing it is a must. Begin your peregrinación from Tomar.

And, under no circumstances fail to walk the alternative Way out of Porto, wherever you start on the Portuguese Way!  It departs there from the standard waymarked route, proceeds to Matosenhos, and from there proceeds up the coast with beautiful marine views and good footing with a destination for the day of Vila do Conde.  Check out FCB #8.  From Vila do Conde a waymarked route returns you to the main route from Porto to Santiago.

The principal differences between these two most popular Camino routes are the following:

. The Francés has vastly more pilgrims from day one. I encounterd over twice as many pilgrims at the railroad station in Bayonne headed to St. Jean than I had met in the first 20 days in Portugal. And the number on the Way increases noticeably at each of the starting points mentioned above. The same thing happens on the Portugués, but the overall number of pilgrims is much lower

. The infrastructure to support pilgrims is much more highly developed on the Francés in comparison with that on the Portugués. That means that the peregrino need not worry that lodging doesn’t exist when it is time to stop for the night – although there are occasions when every bed in town has been spoken for. Making reservations ahead is a good idea on either route. On the Portugués I often had to truncate my daily distances in order to ensure that I had a bed for the night. I expect that the infrastructure in Portugal will be built out swiftly so this concern may no longer be relevant. The camaraderie of the Camino is more evident on the Francés for the simple reason that there are so many more pilgrims on The Way.

. The food is better on the Francés than on the Portugués, though I still completed the Camino suffering from vegetable deficit and I didn’t find an open Chinese restaurant until I got to Paris! Also, the ubiquitous “pilgrim menu” – an inexpensive three-course meal that includes bread and wine or water (usually at a cost of 10 euros more or less) was uncommon on the Portugués. This may change as the infrastructure is developed and the many businesses that do now or will cater to peregrinos learn from their Iberian cousins to the north. The lack of a pilgrim menu may not be all bad.  I got awfully tired of it and eventually asked for the regular menu which certainly was more costly, but not as repetitious and limited.

. Approximately 2/3 of the Camino Francés is on path or rural track with the remaining 1/3 on asphalt roads – secondary or primary – or on sidewalks through cities.

. The reverse is the case on the Camino Portugués. Though the scenery on paths and tracks generally is better than that along paved roads, I found the pavement easier on my feet than most paths and tracks. In addition, the waymarks on the Francés are obvious and well maintained. That is not always the case on the Portugués, though as with other attributes, I expect this to change as the infrastructure is improved.

 

Flora and Fauna

The countryside in Spain is beautiful. Walking the Camino in April and May, my Camino was largely in the early spring. There were many wildflowers to enjoy, especially at the higher elevations.

Heather was a frequent companion, but often it was interspersed with yellow, white, and blue flowers as well. I wish I knew the names of the others.

The gentle reader may recall that nearly every dog in Portugal barked at me last year. That was not the case on the Francés this year. Relatively few dogs felt obliged to lunge at peregrinos. Also, interestingly, northern Spain seems to have a strong preference for German shepherds versus other breeds. I saw very few Siamese cats.

In addition to the heard but not seen cuckoo who accompanied me, English sparrows were ubiquitous on the Way.

Several times, I came upon pine processionary caterpillars (procesionaria del pino). These little creatures formed chains of a dozen or more – all except the lead caterpillar burying its head in the posterior of the next in line. The chain would travel as a group – perhaps as a defensive mechanism. Chains can be as long as 300 caterpillars.  The hairs on their bodies produce serious allergic reactions – sometimes fatal – in humans and other mammals.  They are extremely destructive of pine forests.  Fascinating.

 )

And from time to time I saw “herds” of black slugs all of which were progressing across the Way all in a common direction. I wonder what motivated the mass migration.

 

The Church in Spain

I have heard it said that there is no more Roman Catholic a country than Spain. And this may well be true.

Nearly every small town hosts a parish church, some rather grand considering the present and likely historical population.  Certainly the cathedral in Burgos (hardly a small town) has stood the test of time.

However, it is also widely reported that the people in Spain are becoming less actively religious with the passage of time, as generally is the case throughout the developed world. There is a shortage of priests. And funds to maintain existing Church properties are less plentiful than once they were. Some churches are simply closed. Others have fallen into disrepair and appear to be abandoned.

 

Political Graffiti

Graffiti is ubiquitous along The Way. Some of it has political content. Here are a few examples:

 

Fracking No?  The Camino is a long way from any drilling rig I know of.  I actually saw this exhortation more than once along The Way!

 

Flags Along the Way

Though I am not a student of the history of Spain and France, I became intrigued by such history as I was able to learn as I walked The Way. I am interested that so many regions and provinces in Spain, and indeed throughout Europe, were their own small kingdoms at one time or another. Their flags and coats of arms endure on public buildings and elsewhere. Here are some of the flags I encountered:

Aquitaine

Navarra

La Rioja

Castilla y Leon

Galicia

And the Basque flag

The Basques are a people with a proud heritage who find themselves split between the southwest region of France and the northwest region of Spain. I encountered many locals along The Way who pointedly announced that they were Basque – not Spaniards. The Basque language (there are several dialects and the language is unique – not a Romance language at all) is widely, though not universally, spoken in the seven Basque provinces. There are recurring calls by Basques for independence from Spain, and no doubt from France as well. Neither country is likely to grant that independence, though accommodations to regionalism are frequent in Spain.

I was interested that the ATMs in the provinces through which I walked generally provided eight language options at the beginning of each transaction:

• Spanish
• English
• French
• German
• Basque
• Galician
• Catalan
• Aranese

 

The Camino as Big Business

The economy of Spain, as that of Portugal which I observed last year, has suffered.  Unemployment is at 25 percent.  Many capital projects have been suspended or abandoned.

In 1984 only 423 peregrinos completed their pilgrimages and were granted a compostela. There are estimates that in 2014 fully 240,000 peregrinos will have completed pilgrimages. The enormous popularity of the Camino has been a major underpinning to the Spanish tourism industry which accounts for over 11 percent of the Spanish GDP. It is the only component of the economy that has not suffered during the recent economic downturn.  As such, the Camino is a big business.

A big business with thousands of small players.

Hundreds of baristas at the many cafes along The Way. Cooks, waiters and waitresses, too.  Bakers who bake the bread and those who cure jambon for the seemingly omnipresent bocadillos every peregrino will consume almost daily.  

And the many personnel at the alberques, pensions, casas rurales, and hotels along The Way. And many, many cab drivers who will gallantly transport the frightened peregrino up and over what looks to him like a mountain to rival Mt. Everest – or transport the exhausted peregrino that last few kilometers to his destination for the day.

And the drivers, dispatchers, and coordinators who, for a nominal fee, will transport peregrino backpacks or other luggage from one alberque or hotel to another, provided it is along The Way. 

Jacotrans is preeminent among them.  I carried my mochila the whole way this time, but next time . . . .

And then there are the many shopkeepers who will outfit a peregrino as he or she sets out on the journey, or who sell scallop shells to tie to your backpack, walking staffs so you can emulate St. James, and t-shirts once you reach Santiago.

All in all, the Camino provides employment for a sizable number of folks in northern Spain and along the recognized alternative routes. Certainly thousands.

Voices are heard advocating the establishment of additional “official” Camino routes in order that the wealth be shared with communities not presently benefitting from the Camino traffic.

There’s money to be made and it has brought forth substantial private investment in the construction of built-for-the-purpose alberques, or the reconfiguration of existing pensions and other buildings. However, the popularity of travel destinations is known to ebb and flow.  What will happen to the investments of these entrepreneurs if traffic on the Caminos falls off in future years? 

Advertising is rampant along The Way.  This one advertises an alberque a few kilometers ahead, but one kilometer off the waymarked route.  Which inspires the peregrino?  The cross among stones placed by passing peregrinos?  Or the strategically placed ad for Alberque San Bol?

I was approached by operators of private alberques on many afternoons an hour or more before I reached their hostels. Sometimes they were on foot, sometimes in automobiles, and once on a motorcycle traveling on The Way itself. Business cards and flyers are left at shrines visited by peregrino.

Occasionally, placards placed by one business are vandalized by competitors.  “Don’t go here” written in English.  An English-speaking peregrino would have to have been awfully irritated to trudge back up a steep hill and come equipped with paint and a brush to make that statement.  I think it was done by the competitor whose adjacent placard was not defaced!

When approaching the village of Villalval, The Way splits to provide an alternate route. The signage was defaced, likely by the owner of a bar who wanted to direct peregrinos to his establishment at the end of the alternate route, rather than see them follow the main route and stop at a competing establishment on the near side of town.

A waymark pointing to the left is painted over and a yellow arrow pointing to the right is substituted.

A waymark showing the principal route is defaced.  “Don’t go!”  – Why not?

In fact, I followed the route to the left, through town, and ultimately found myself at the bar at the end of the alternate route.  I felt a certain angst, but didn’t turn back. The café con leche was one euro forty.  The going rate.

The commercialization of the Camino is discouraging. But should not dissuade a future peregrino from embracing the experience. One must simply look beyond the commercialization and walk on.

Walk on, peregrino.  Walk on.  And remain focused on why you undertook this peregrinacion.

 

Things to take with you or buy “over there” before you set out.

Should you decide to walk the Camino, or a similar trek, get a good guidebook and pay attention to the suggestions there. And be sure your guidebook is the most recent edition. Here are a few suggestions that may or may not be included in your guidebook.

· Take a sink stopper that will accommodate different size drains. You likely will be doing laundry (as did I) in hotel bathrooms or at alberques with primitive clothes washing facilities. And they don’t all have stoppers! I used shampoo as my laundry soap.

· Take two – not one – two hiking poles. One for each hand. It is a rule: If you lose your balance and start to fall to your right, the single pole will be in your left hand. If you start to fall to your left . . . . You get the idea. My poles saved me from falling numerous times. The Camino is often merely a gravel road and sometimes steep. And sometimes the Camino is slushy to a fare-thee-well. Poles are a must.

· If you walk the Camino in the spring or the fall, take a pair of mittens. It can be quite chilly in the mornings and your hands will get cold.

· Wear real shoes – hiking boots that provide ankle support are even better. Sandals or cross-trainers won’t keep you safe and likely will engender blisters. Be sure the shoes fit properly and are snug to your feet but not “tight.” Remember – your shoes, socks, and feet all have to work together as a system. Mine did. I had no problems with blisters.

· Take a feather-weight pair of town shoes for after the day’s walk. That allows your hiking boots to dry out while you are out and about!

· Take more than one water bottle. It is critical that you stay hydrated. I kept a small (33 cl.) bottle of water inside my pack as a standby in case of hydration emergencies. I used it twice.

· A small pillow (inflatable or compressible) was a great boon to my slumber. Many “pillows” in Spain compare favorably with sacks of cement.

· Always have a small roll of toilet paper with you. You may need it on the trail, but also you may need it in an alberque or pension where supplies sometimes run low.

· And stuff from your medicine cabinet: Anti-chafing balm, your NSAID of choice, vitamins (especially to manage electrolytes), sunblock, medicated wipes. Unusual first aid or health needs can always be met at any of the hundreds of farmacias you will encounter on the Way. Just look for the garish blinking neon green cross.

· Buy a couple of tins of sardines or other canned food to nourish you if you have to start out in the morning after a very inadequate “European breakfast” – toast, butter, jelly, and one cup of coffee. I wonder how any European power ever won a military victory if that’s all they ever fed their soldiers in the morning. Keep the standby food in a handy location in your pack.

· Take a very small notebook (mine was 3”x4”) and a pen, and keep it handy to capture names and addresses and other miscellaneous information you won’t want to forget.

 

Kindnesses and Camaraderie

Peregrinos have at their disposal a tremendous resource:    Each other!  The fact of being on the Camino walking with or in tandem with other similarly committed pilgrims produces both and instant bond and a sense of trust that would not normally characterize everyday life.  A commonness of purpose and a commonness of experience.

Peregrinos help each other and willingly share their experiences, food, water, ankle braces (I gave one to a peregrina who was having trouble with leg pain) and money, if needed.

And supporters of the Camino have established opportunities for the weary traveler to sit, rest, and refresh.  A nominal donation is requested, but not required.

Whether overnighting in the alberques or in pensions or hotels, peregrinos typically share dinner together and enjoy each others’ company.

One of the best experiences on The Way is being reunited with peregrinos one has not seen for several days, or longer.  This happened for me several times, but especially so in Santiago.  The last night’s dinner – before several of us said a somber good by to the Camino and returned to our homes, was a joyous occasion.

 

The Way Forward

In FCB #18, I speculated about what the next walk might be. And I still haven’t decided – after all, next year is a year away! I won’t have a two-month window that would accommodate another six or seven week hike. But the Camino Primitivo, which originates in Ovieto, can be walked in about three weeks. If I do another Camino next year, I think that will be the one.

Stay tuned! And again, thank you for following these chronicles.

Buen Camino!

 

Knute Michael

 

Fog City Boy on the Camino Frances

Hendersonville, North Carolina – May 26, 2015

The flight to Paris was uneventful (recall that this is the best kind), but about 3 hours late. Even so, I found my lodging (conveniently located at the Charles de Gaulle Airport) timely, checked in, and formulated a plan to explore Paris the next day. As Ginna can attest, I am a cheap date in any big city in the world. Buy me a one-day pass on the subway system, and I’m set for the day.

In fact, the next day I did explore the vaunted Paris Metro, as well as one of several surface tram lines that ring the city. They are slow but elegant.

I find more interest in observing how people lead their daily lives than by wandering slowly through a museum that interprets how they did it hundreds of years ago. So I had a good walk down Avenue de la Grande Armee from the “Grande Arche” (a newly built and imposing structure anchoring a modern office, shopping, and residential complex, and dedicated to humanitarian ideals) about two kilometers to the Arc de Triomphe (dedicated to military victories) .

I encountered many Parisians swiftly going about their business, tourists wandering about, and traffic moving with dispatch. En route, I found one of the things I had been missing for six weeks: A Chinese Restaurant! My Camino now was complete. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in Paris, eat Chinese. I ordered a plate of mixed vegetables, and almost inhaled the brocoli-carrots-cabbage-mushroom melange.

I must report that the food on the Camino Frances was noticeably better than the food last year on the Camino Portugues. I think it may be the influence of Spain’s neighbor to the northeast. Even so, vegetables were scarce on the menus del peregrino.

I walked from the Arc de Triomphe to the Eiffel Tower and was truly impressed. Next time I am in Paris, I will know to reserve a lift ticket a week or more in advance!

I enjoyed my brief sojourn in Paris. It truly is the beautiful city it is reputed to be.

The next day found me on an airplane en route to Hendersonville, arriving about midnight local time (6 am Camino time) where I have been recouperating from jet lag and enjoying the opportunities to tell tales of the Camino!

* * * * * * * *

I have been able to upload and embed in this blog entry a number of short videos I took during my peregrenacion. Together they constitute a video complement the still photos I have shared previously. I hope you enjoy them!

On the first day from St. Jean, the Way follows the Rio Chapilets. Lots of water. Beautiful scenery.

It is fed by numerous waterfalls and rivulets along the way. Here is one.

The outskirts of Pamplona boasted bridges and water works dating to Roman times.

Three days after Pamplona,I overnighted in the small town of Estella (population 14,000). It was a Friday evening and about 5 pm, many families converged on the town square. There was a musical ensemble in traditional garb playing tradtional music. But, soccer is king for youngsters there, and everywhere along The Way.

Hornillos del Camino is a very small town of 60 souls, though the number of residences would suggest a much greater population. The municipal alberque had not opened at the time I arrived (I stayed at a different alberque, in any case), but I caught s panorama of this dusty little town, including the Iglesia Santa Maria and the town square before it. The town and surrounding farms are part of the great Meseta. The tractors and other farm equipment require the entire roadway, and they don’t slow down. Peregrino beware!

The Catedral de Santa Maria in Burgos dates from the 13th Century. It is extraordinary.

I have previously addressed the long, steep climb from just outside Castrojeriz. Here’s the warning sign to serve as a refresher:

The reward after the ascent is the extraordinary panorama looking back down at the velley below.

Once upon the high Meseta, the verdant farmland stretches for as far as the eye can see.

In Carrion de los Condes on April 24th, I was treated to a regional event that featured serious farm equipment all over town. The townsfolk enjoyed watching the preparations. Loudspeakers delivered exhortations and upbeat music for the occasion!

 Villafranca del Bierzo is the gateway to some serious mountain paths that will challenge the peregrino. In Spain, where there are mountains, there will be plenty of water, as well.

I overnighted in the small village of Trabadelo. Elle, a young woman from Holland, presides over the Casa Rural El Puente Peregrino. A vegetarian menu is available and Elle was extremely helpful in securing lodging for me further along the way.

The Way then continues its climb into Galicia.

Finally, O’Cebreiro, and the most wonderful panoramas of the Camino Frances.

The young fellow at the end of the clip is named Frazier.  He and five other members of his Canadian family walked along with me for three days.

I arrived in Santiago several days later. As previously reported, a video of the swinging of the Botafumeiro is embedded at the end of FCB #10. After the pilgrims’ mass on the evening I arrived, along with other peregrinos who had just completed their peregrenacions, I visited the closely guarded crypt under the alter containing a casket holding relics of St. James and of his followers.   The video is quite brief.

I lited a candle for a friend who has gone on to her final resting place.

The cathedral and other religious buildings that form the core of the old city are spectacular. But Santiago is more than just a destination, more than simply the Camino de Santiago. It is a substantial city and regional seat of government. There was a vibrant festival in full swing during the weekend I arrived. Here are two clips that capture the mood of secular Santiago:

* * * * * * * *

Epilogue:

I’m home. I have read comments that many of you made to the blog as I published from time to time. I appreciate the comments and encouragement. I had more than one of you suggest that rather than discard my boots, I have them bronzed. Alas, the boots are with me no more.

So I can’t close with a picture of my boots on the floor to reassure the gentle reader that, yes, there is another walk in my future. But rest assured, there will be one.

Another Camino? Perhaps. Likely the Camino Finesterre from Santiago to the Spanish coast – about a 60 kilometer walk. And I very much want to return to St. Jean and walk the Napoleon Route over the Pyranees – rather than around the mountain as I was forced to do this time because of the weather.

One of the other traditional Caminos with destination Santiago? Perhaps. But the world offers many other walks and beautiful countrysides. The South Island in New Zealand is highly rated. And a coast to coast walk in England or Scotland sounds promising as well.

So, the boots aren’t off. They are gone!

But the feet are with me still, and they are sound. 

I will do one more posting with reflections about the Camino just completed, and the Camino Portugues last year.  Stay tuned!

Thank you for following this chronicle.

Buen Camino!

And, happy trails!

 

Knute Michael

 

Fog City Boy on the Camino Frances

Santiago de Compostela, Spain – May 17, 2015

Well. . . I made it!

I walked through the Porto do Camiño at about 2:30 on Friday, May 15th, two days ago. The historic gate through which peregrinos passed for centuries is gone now, but the intersection and entrance to the old city is still there. An obliging townsperson took my picture. The Way continues into the old city behind me.

I thanked the kind photographer and continued for a few more minutes and into the Plaza do Obradorio – the plaza before the most grand and imposing Cathedral. A fellow peregrino (from Texas, it turns out) took my picture there.

44 days, 776.2 kilometers (482.3 miles) after departing St. Jean Pied de Port, I had arrived. It felt good!

I proceded to the pilgrim office where an attendant inspected my credentiales (two of them – I had more stamps than the one issued by the American confraturnity would accommodate) and issued me a Compostela attesting to completion of my peregrenacion from St. Jean. The Compostela is written in Latin, with my name inscribed as “Knute Michaelem Miller.”  What a hoot!

I walked on through the old city, found my hotel, checked in, and went up to my room. With a bit of wistfulness, I took off my boots for the last time.

They are worn out – parts of the sole are missing or worn through. Toes and heals almost completely worn down.

They served me well – two caminos, training for those caminos, and a dozen or more walking tours back home in San Francisco. About 1000 miles in all. Time for a new pair of boots. But it is hard to say goodby. We have been through alot together! They won’t be with me when I go to the airport tomorrow morning.

Friday night, I met up with a number of peregrinos I had encountered along The Way. It was great to see them, trade stories, and invite each other to stay in touch. I joined the family from San Luis Obispo and a peregrina from Austria for the pilgrims’ mass Friday evening. As it was last year, the mass was a moving experience for all in attendance. The swinging of the giant insense burner – the Botafumeiro – concluded the mass. It was originally used to fumigate the sweaty (and possibly disease-ridden) pilgrims upon their arrival in Santiago. Today, thankfully, its use is more symbolic than practical.

A 6 minute video of the swinging of the Botafumeiro last year is embedded in FCB #10.

I have spent my time since arriving sleeping and relaxing. Both have been productive and regenerative! And I ran into several other peregrinos I had met along the way – Manuel from Bavaria (who reported on Paulette from Vancouver Island’s Camino progress), the guy from Finland whose name I still can’t pronounce, the two Italian military guys who were doing 40 km per day, and others.  A joyous reunion each time!

I fly to Paris tomorrow.

A few thoughts about The Way from Sarria from which I last posted. . . .

There were several noteworthy changes immediately evident upon departing Sarria. The first was the dramatic increase in the number of peregrinos. They were easy to spot because most had new hiking shoes that were clean! Pardon my conceit, but my venerable boots were stained by hundreds of miles of mud, and other substances encountered along the mostly farm roads over which The Way passes.

Another change from earlier experience was the condition of The Way itself. The last 115 kilometers were much better maintained than The Way generally, with fewer ruts and almost no boulders to negotiate. I think Galicia wants to encourage peregrinos to come walk The Way, even if only from Sarria, and minimizing falls, scrapes, and turned ankles – always a risk on the rougher sections of The Way – must be part of that strategy.

And there was an intangible as well.  Peregrinos who had been on The Way for even a day or so before reaching Sarria seemed to embrace the commaradarie of the Camino more readily than did the folk who just joined in the pilgrimage.  Sure, they responded “buen camino” when greeted by other peregrinos, but they seemed less confident – probably just a function of being the new kids on the block.  And many were just that – young folks with a week off of school or before heading on to a new challenge.  Who knows?  But they were legitimate peregrinos and I was happy to have them with me on The Way.

I have not previously written in this blog about the cuckoo.  But now I shall.

The gentle reader no doubt is bracing him or herself for a possible determination that your humble scriviner is himself cuckoo.  That may be, but not because of what I now report:

A few minutes after departing St. Jean Pied de Port, I heard the call of a cuckoo.  Heard but not seen.  That cuckoo followed me, in fact, all the way to Santiago!  Every day, except in the larger cities.  But the cuckoo was there to follow me, and encourage me, once I departed the big city.

Now it may be possible that there was more than one cuckoo along The Way.  If so, northern Spain has a lot of cuckoos.  I prefer to think that one cuckoo followed me all along The Way.

Always heard at a slight distance.  Never seen.  I heard him again in Santiago.

Well, enough of that.

The last few days on The Way brought its own collection of sights:

Granite steps and an archway leading to Portomarin.

The fortress-like church in Portomarin that had been moved from the old city of Portomarin which now is submerged in the reservoir adjacent to the town. Each stone in the structure was numbered as it was disassembled, and later reassembled in its current location. The river was dammed in 1962 to create the reservoir.

The next morning was cold and misty, denying the traveling peregrinos the greatly lauded view from atop the ridge.

Walk on, peregrinos, walk on.

A statue of St. James in pilgrimage garb and carrying a bible marks an early gathering point for peregrinos beginning their peregrenaciones from Palas de Rei. He is facing toward Santiago.

From Melide, my next stop after Palas de Rei, I had only three days walk remaining on my Camino.  I had need to repack my backpack and in the process, came upon a rock that daughter Elizabeth had entrusted to me to take with me and deliver to an appropriate location on The Way.  The rock was a true “San Francisco” rock – serpentine, common in San Francisco, and also the state rock of California.  I had carried this rock for 41 days, awaiting the appropriate place to deposit it.

I put the rock in a side pocket of my backpack so that it would be more readily accessible when the time came, finished repacking, went to bed, and headed for Arzua the next morning.

When in Arzua I enjoyed pulpo for the first time on this Camino.

Part way through the mid-afternoon pulpo lunch, I realized that I had made a horrible blunder.

At a rest break a few kilometers before reaching Arzua, I had come upon a rest area – an “area de descanso” – doffed my pack, placed it and my walking sticks on a picnic table, and put the rock there too – intending to simply carry it in my hip pocket rather than keeping it in the backpack’s side pocket.

After a 10 minute break, I collected my usual “stuff” – backpack, poles, water bottle, guidebook, hat, made sure I had my passport and wallet, and set off again.

And, yes, part way through the pulpo, I realized that I had left the rock on the picnic table.  It had not been part of my routine checklist of “things not to leave behind.”

OMG!  What do you do?  What do you do?!?

Well, I decided to go back and look for the rock.  I was sure the area de discanso was in Ribadiso, about three kilometers back (and the day was still young).

I set out to find Elizabeth’s rock.  Or more accurately, my rock.  I started to think about my blunder.

What if it wasn’t on the picnic table when I got there?  Perhaps some passing peregrino had simply pushed it off and into the tall grass.  I would search around the table.

What if it wasn’t there at all?  Perhaps a passing peregrino would have placed it on a nearby waymark.  I checked every waymark on the way back.  No luck.

And if it wasn’t there at all?  I would find a rock of similar size and take it with me.  And deliver that one.  If rocks have a spirit, perhaps that spirit would transfer and be transported with me.

I walked to the rivulet and across a bridge from Ribadiso where I remembered the area de descanso to be.  

But the rest area wasn’t there!  It must be just a bit further, just around the bend.

But no.  It was almost another three kilometers, up and down several hills and around several bends.  But I found it.  And it had picnic tables.  I looked for the one where I had been.  I saw it.

There appeared to be something on the table. Was it my rock? Or just a jetizened orange peel or apple core?

Fortunately, it was my rock. 

And so, my blunder muted, I took out my iPhone and using the Map app, determined that I was 5.9 kilometers from my lodging in Arzua.  I headed back, encountering a burro accompanying several peregrinos headed to Santiago.  They had stopped at an alberque, perhaps to spend the night.

I made it back well before dark, with morale adjustment stops at more than one cafe along the way.  And when I got back to my lodging, I placed my rock safely back in my backpack.

I can’t claim to have walked a mile for a Camel.  But I have walked 7.316 miles for a rock.

If the report about the cuckoo followed by the report about the rock hasn’t raised concerns about my sanity, thank you.

Further along The Way, I encountered eucalyptus forests (planted years ago and still harvested for the paper pulp industry in the region).  They have been relatively common along the last days of the Camino. As in Sigmond Stern Grove, and elsewhere back home, ferns cover the floor of the forest.

On the morning of the last day of my peregrenacion, I came upon a marker at the edge of Santiago de Compostela. Passing peregrinos had left small stones on and near the marker, attesting to their continuing journey.

This was the place I had been looking for.

I decided to leave my rock at the Santiago marker.

I continued on.

As I got closer to the old town, brass conchas in the sidewalks led the way.

And then – first glimpse of the Cathedral.

And in a few minutes, the journey was complete.

* * * *

Paris, France – May 18, 2015

The good folks at my hotel called me a cab which responded promptly and 20 minutes later I found myself at the Santiago International Airport. Flights arrive and depart there – mostly ferrying peregrinos to and from the Way. Regular bus service is available to Sarria and other starting points along the Camino.

In the cab, I watched Santiago and its suburbs fly by.  I thought about my peregrenacion.  I thought about The Way and its challenges.  And the friendly peregrinos I had met and hope to stay in touch with.

And gratitude.  Gratitude that I am strong enough and healthy enough to undertake a challenge like The Way.  Gratitude for the spiritual wholeness that accompanied its completion.  Gratitude for the encouragement I received from others. 

And gratitude for Jim’s training.  Teaching me to bring together body, mind, and spirit. 

I would never have attempted the Camino, but for Jim.

I checked in at the airport, gave them my backpack, and walked around the terminal.  I walked outside and looked at the countryside.  Galicia is beautiful.  I could see Santiago off in the distance.

I listened for the cuckoo.  But he was not there.  Perhaps he was keeping his distance – frightened by the “big birds” at the airport.  But I prefer to think that he is flying back to St. Jean to find another peregrino, and accompany that lucky pilgrim along his peregrenacion on The Way of St. James.

With that, I’m off to Paris.  I’ll post again from North Carolina in a few days.

 

Knute Michael

 

Fog City Boy on the Camino Frances

May 9, 2015 – Sarria, Spain

The Way from Leon to Sarria was pleasant, if wet. It rained off and on for several days. When the heavens opened up, I generally was able to get my pancho on timely which not only gave protection against the rain, but wind and windchill as well.

But that said, it made for a squishy path forward and muddy pants to wash upon arrival for the night.

I am taking an extra day in Sarria – a recovery day and a day to post to the blog. While the elegant hotel where I was fortunate to get a room – most of the town is sold out – had clean sheets and hot water, it could not supply a computadora but a local Western Union representative could! Thus the composition of this blog entry.

Sarria is the point of departure for many hundreds of peregrinos who are able to walk only the minumum number of kilometers (100) necessary to qualify for receiving recognition as pilgrims upon arrival in Santiago and the accompanying compostela. Sarria is 115 km from Santiago.

The hotel this morning was filled with peregrinos rolling suitcases to be ferried by bus or truck from daily destination to destination. They set out on their respective journeys at about 0830 this morning, prompting me to focus on future lodging reservations.

Lodging has proved scarce going forward, but so far, so good.

The gentle reader must be getting tired of pictures of statues glorifying perigrinos on the Camino. But two more seem particularly noteworthy. The first is a famous one in the plaza before the noted museum and parador in Leon. It shows the pilgrim with his sandles off, next to him. And a pained expression while looking skyward.

The second is on the pilgrim´s approach to Astorga, two days beyond Leon. It caught my interest because it captures use of the drinking gourd rather than simply portraying it as an accessory to the pilgrim´s staff.

There have been many more thus far, and more to come, I am sure.

Generally, once the clouds lifted enough to see the surrounding territory, the towns and the scenery were quite lovely. Here are some images from along the Way:

Bodegas (in this case, wine cellars no longer in use) encountered on the climb out of Leon.  “Bodega” means “cave.”  These cellars were dug into the top of the hill many years ago.

Puente de Orbigo, a midieval bridge dating from the 13th century.

A cross overlooks the approach to Astorga.

A mechanical clock in the Plaza Maior in Astorga.  The man and woman dressed in traditional garb swing hammers and ring out the time four times each hour.

 

 

Young cyclists on a tour prepare to depart Astorga on the Camino.

 

The Camino has its share of excentrics in residence.

At higher elevations, the mist forms over the landscape.  It is everchanging.

When the sun emerges, the heather and other wildflowers are resplendent.

Santiago is in Galicia and crossing from the Province of Leon into Galicia is a milestone for any peregrino.  

The most profound vistas of the entire Camino thus far were at O´Cebreiro, a mountaintop village a few kilometers inside Galicia. The shots below don´t begin to do the views justice. I´ll have a panoramic video for you once I get back home. The views were truly among the most profound I have been fortunate to see anywhere.

The next day, I passed a corn crib with a thatched roof – attesting to the the Gaelic heritage of Galicia.

By taking a recovery and blog day in Leon, I lost many members of the cohort of peregrinos with whom I had been walking for a time. Happily, I connected with several others who had been in an earlier cohort and now were walking in tandem with me! Such is the nature of the Camino!

I also had the good fortune to meet and walk in tandem with members of two families. The first was composed of a mom, dad, and an adult son from San Luis Obispo. We shared good times and some laughs, but have found ourselves a day apart by this writing.

Another family was a family of six – hailing from Calgary – and boasting representatives of three generations!  “Mom” – who is 77 and matriarch of the Calgary contingent – poses in front of a fonte decorated with a concha, one of the symbols of the Camino.

I have enjoyed knowing them – and like the family from San Luis – shared good times and some laughs. They have gone on ahead. Perhaps we will reconnect in Santiago. Such is the nature of the Camino!

Each peregrino carries with him or her their respective Credenciales del Pregrinos – their pilgrim´s passport which must be stamped each day to document the pilgrim´s travels on the peregrenacion to Santiago. Stamps may be had at alberques, churches, restaurants and bars along the way. I got one here in Sarria from a store that specializes in outfitting peregrinos for the Way ahead! The history the credenciales represent will be scrutinized in Santiago at the pilgrim office before granting the successful pilgrim´s compostela.

Late one morning, in a small town on the Way from Trabadelo to O´Cebreiro, I was approached by a French peregrino of about my age who called out to me and approached me holding a credencial, and asking in broken English if it were mine. I examined it and told him it was not mine. He asked other peregrinos in the cohort moving through the town, but none could claim it. Apparently, he had found it on the ground, or at a resting place along the Way.

This was a profound moment for all of us. The credencial is a very important document and one to be protected at all costs! The French peregrino and his wife had to decide – what to do?

Several times that afternoon, I thought about the lost credencial and how devistating the loss must have been for its owner.

I did not know their decision, but as it turned out, the French couple wisely took the credencial with them to O´Cebreiro where they checked into the large Alberque there.

As it happened, the family from Calgary also had checked in to the alberque that night, and Braedan (a member of the third generation in that family of peregrinos) also had been asked by the French couple if the credential were hers. In the alberque, Braedan came upon a distraught peregrina. It seems that she had lost her credencial earlier that day! Braedan remembered the name on the lost credencial. “Are you Hazel from London?” she asked. Yes she was! And so the peregrina and the credencial were reunited.

Much to the relief of all concerned! What a loss it might have been, but for the attentive efforts of the French peregrinos, and the swift recognition by Braedan.

Upon arrival in Sarria, peregrinos climb the ancient granite steps “Escalinata Maior” to the central hub of pilgrim Sarria.

 

The path through the old down boasts at least a dozen alberques and numerous cafes and restaurants catering to peregrinos passing through or overnighting there.

A mural captures the difficulty and hardships faced by peregrinos of times gone by, including aid given to the infirm by other peregrinos passing this way.

A cruciero caps the Way as it approches a monestery at the top of the hill.

Last night, at the top of the steps, I met up with the family from Calgary. We had dinner together, shared some laughs, and today they have gone on ahead.

And so, tomorrow begins the last week of my peregrenacion. I look forward to it with anticipation and more than a little excitement. I´ll post again from Santiago.

And with that, I´m off.

 

Knute Michael