28 April 2012 Leon

Staying at Hostal San Martin.  I have a lovely bright room with heat!  I was out early this morning, thinking to have coffee but nothing was open.  It seems no one gets up early on a Saturday morning.  The Cathedral did not open until 9:30 so I just wondered through the narrow streets, walking in an intermittent rainfall.  Gradually, more and more people appeared on the streets and I began to notice, mostly women pulling little shopping carts on wheels, all headed in the same general direction, so I decided to follow.  Through winding little wet streets I eventually ended up in a large open square to the south of the cathedral where a farmers market was just setting up.  Gorgeous produce, fruit, barrels of olives, and flowers.  Along one side of the square, a line of trucks parked - like the food trucks at home, sides open.  They held queso, cured and dried meats and sausages.  I stayed a while and watched the square gradually fill with vendors and buyers.  I basked in the smells and sounds, especially the sound of spoken Spanish, both gentle and guttural.  I did finally find a small bar open and properly caffiene-loaded, headed for the cathedral.  There is no sun today to light up the interior but nothing could mar the beauty of the place.

27 April 2012 Sahagun to Leon

I mailed a 3.5 kg package to Santiago today, after Maria left to walk.  I am both excited by and a bit anxious about navigating Spain without Maria.  I spent a couple of hours yesterday with my Spanish for Dummies audiobook, writing down some key phrases.  I gleaned a few more from Maria.  I am now sitting in the lovely and warm train station, with a gentle rain coming down outside.  There is a train at 1:30 for 12 euros and one at 2pm for 5 euros.  I suspect the difference is speed and I am in no hurry so will leave on the 2pm train.  A beautiful young woman attends the venta de billetes and she seems to take frequent breaks in the small cafe as business is slow.  I bid farewell to the three senoras (Nati, Josephina, and Denice) at the Hosperia Benedictina Monasterio de Santa Cruz, who took such good care of me, fed me, and cheerfully tolerated my very poor Spanish language skills.

Jim sent me this: "real love is a pilgrimage.  It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare becasue most people are strategists"

26 April 2012

I took a walk after breakfast to the train station to check times to Leon, but before I could go into the station I ran into J - a German Pilgrim that Maria and I had met in Burgos.  He was coming out of the station and recofnized me.  H said the train to Leon is at 130, but that a bus leaves at 11 near my albergue.  I walked with him back to the busstop so I could know where it is for tomorrow.  He shared a story of a torn and ruined credit card - even showed me the card - and no money to get to the town where a German embassy could get him cash.  I gave him 60 euro.  My skeptical side wanted to refuse and above all not be taken advantage of by this stranger.  My Pilgrim side thought of all the help I have received of late and decided to give him the money with no expectations that it will be returned to me.

Maria arrived just after noon.  So good to see her.  We had quite a tangled net to discover a solution for me getting to Leon tomorrow.  First Maria called the phone number for bus information on the tourist map.  They told her the bus leaves at 915 but they couldn´t tell us where to catch the bus and gave us a different number.  That number led to a recording where the schedule was again given but no location.  <finally, since no one at the Albergue know where to get the bus, I decided to take the train afterall.

More people:  Alexandra lives in Italy and speaks six languages;  Nieves is from Spain, Marcos is from the Netherlands.  They all joined us for the Vespers.

25 April 2012 continued

I attended the nuns´ vespers again this evening in their small chapel.  There was one other pilgrim there - a young man from Stuttgart.  He syated in the Albergue so we shared a table at dinner, after the service.  He is tall, thin, blond with an angular, rather sincere face.  His English excellent.  When I asked him why he was walking the Camino, he said for spiritual reasons; then he told me that he was supposed to have been married on 21st April and then have a three week honeymoon, but his fiance broke off the engagement and he decided to walk the Camino with the time off work he had scheduled.  His lip quivered ever so slightly and his pale skin pinkened.  His eyes were shiny with tears that did not fall.  A broken heart showed on his sleeve and on his face.  The pain was so plainly written there.  He said he would think about things as he walked and try for a fresh start.  He barely touched his lovely dinner.  With empathy I tried to reassure him but all I could think to say was that it would get better with time.  There are so many stories on the Camino, all one need do is listen.

25 April 2012 Sahagun

It is very cold and windy today.  I really feel for Maria who is out there walking.  I am tucked up in my room with plenty of blankets; they don´t use much heat around here.  I just took a short walk to Plaza Mayor - I have noticed that every town has a "Plaza Mayor".  Pain improved today.  I will go to Leon on Friday and wait for Maria there, then we go by bus to Sarria where I will start walking again one day at a time.

24th April 2012 - continued

Slept most of the afternoon after a lunch of hot soup and vino.  At 7pm I walked slowly around the corner to the church for an evening service presided over by the nuns.  There were 10 nuns and two noviates (I am guessing on this one - they were young black women wearing bleached muslin headdresses, instead of the traditional full black of the other, much older nuns).  They lit candles, one played the organ, and they all sang and read from probably three different hymnals and books.  Towards the end of the service, they invited the Pilgrims to come to the altar - there were three others besides myself.  They began a blessing for Pilgrims to Santiago (that much I understood) and as they were in the middle of a lovely recitation in Spanish, a young German Pilgrim standing between the other two Pilgrims, passed out.  Thankfully, they were able to catch him between them and ease him to the floor of the church. He was breathing but very pale and unresponsive.  The nuns quickly sent someone to call for help.  He aroused spontaneously and we learned he had walked 37km today and had not eaten much.  The emergency crew arrived very quickly, checked his vitals and whisked him off the the hospital in Leon.  The other two Pilgrims, a German couple who had just met the young man, have some English and explained to me over dinner that they would interrupt their journey tomorrow, collect his pack from where he is staying and take it to him in Leon. 

Again and again, people renew my faith in humankind as they perform very humane acts of caring for total strangers.  Is this the lesson I am to learn?

Along with my renewed faith in human beings, I am tonight feeling sad and missing Jim.  I am feeling discouraged by my body's inability to keep up with my plan, anger bubbling under the surface.  Carol writes to me "patience - let each day be what it is".  Very wise words that see me through this night.

24th April 2012

Dr. Juan picked me up in a small white car around 830am. He made sure that my seat belt was fastened.   He bid Maria goodbye as she continued her path and we drove the 28km to Palencia where he lives.  Our 180km-hr speed made short work of the journey and I was greatful for the seat belt.  He deposited me in the sunshine on the corner near his home while he switched to a bigger car and collected his wife and their luggage as they were leaving on a holiday.  They drove me to the nuns in Sahagun.  He parked the car in front of a residence of what appeared to be his mother or mother-in-law and, carrying my pack walked with me to the door of the nuns Albergue just a block or so away.  He gave a thorough explanation to the senora who runs the Albergue for the nuns and instructions for the medication that needed to be picked up at the local farmacia.  He kissed by on both cheeks and accepted by business card with a warm smile. 

I am at a distinct disadvantage here is I no longer have Maria to translate.  No one speaks English but we seem to be able to make do with gestures and a few words.  I am shown to an immaculate room with two beds and a bath with shower.  It feels like heaven.  I shower, change into the cleanest set of clothes I have and give my rather smelly camino ropa to the senora for the laundry service.  I now rest in my room.  They will knock on my door at 2pm for lunch.
Dr. Juan is a true Knight and gentleman.  I will rest here and Maria will meet me here in three days time.

23 April 2012

Left Castrojeriz around 7am.  First part of path straight up 900m.  Then 25.2 km in a very stiff head wind (we later heard on television news that winds were up to 129km/hr for parts of the day and everywhere in the area).  So here, must confess bad with the good, my right leg started hurting yesterday, and today feels like shin splints.  Hobbled the last 6km.
The Path today, despite the wind and the pain, was incredible with a spectacular view from the top that felt like we were on top of the world and could see all around us the green fields.  Felt like the right place to let wind take some of the ashes to a place so amazing.  The last 6km we walk along a canal that was build in the 12 century.  Maria walked as far as possible from the canal as she feared she would be blown into it, the wind was so strong.  The rhythm of my walking sticks and my intreped Maria keep me going - I could not have done it without them.  We sleep tonight in Albergue Municipal with Carmen the innkeeper.  My pain was severe enough and crippling so Carmen directed us to the nearest urgent care clinic where we met Dr. Juan M Cacharro.  He is handsome and kind with a ready smile and gentle hands.  He diagnosed tendonitis and said one word in English "Stop".  He gave me a cortisone injection, a prescription for more by mouth and something for the stomach upset that is sure to follow the cortisone.  The next thing he did is true even though it seems like a fairy tale.  He offers to dirve me the next morning in his own car to Sahagun and suggests I stay a few days with the Benedictine nuns at their Albergue alongside Monasterio de Santa Cruz where he says they will take good care of me so I can continue the walk in a few days.  I am greatful beyond belief to this kindness.  Maria walks on.

22 April 2012

Hornillos to Castrojeriz=20.2km
The walk today was so beautiful.  No wind, no rain, only a small climb.  The path took us through the greenest fields for miles, dotted periodically with ancient buildings and picturesque villages, a 15th century church, all along an old Roman road.  Birds singing constantly and a cuckoo bird with a tuneful reportoire repeated for miles.  There are humans who clearly cannot sing on key or carry a tune, but I haven't heard a tuneless bird.  There are many tuneful birds in Spain , their music accompanying us along the path.  The Path:  beautiful and brutal at times.  I found a rhythm today which kept me in a meditative state, at least for short periods of time.  I found this very helpful in making it over the next rise.
We are meeting all sorts of people, some stand out.  Pilar who runs a small Albergue in Hontanas.  She made us an excellent cafe con leche and the biggest tortilla (meaning a large scrambled egg omelette nestled inside a 1/2 loaf of very fresh bread, all for 4 euro.  She looked like she could be Nati's younger sister, but with a kinder demeanor.  She was surrounded by her family and her grandchildren played on the street in front of her establishment.  Iletta from Copenhagen has been walking for 3 weeks already and she plans 3 more.  She is graceful, gentle with a welcoming smile.  Raul, of course, who looks like a god and has obviously been mesmorized by Maria.  A trio of young Korean women whose names I cannot write, but who have walked parallel with us for some kms and are so fresh and lovely.  One has a bad cold which Maria tends to with love and concern, bringing the girl hot tea and salt for her cough.  In the morning she presents Maria with a small taken of thanks.  One carries a beautiful rosary as she walks.  They give us cookies at a rest stop.  Brighty and Finola are two Irish women of a certain age, pink cheeked and hearty, they walk sections of the Path each year, coming back again and again.  Brooke turned up in Hornillos.  We had met her in the East Bay at a Pilgrim's blessing we all attended before we left on our journey.  She has been walking 16 days and is bright and energetic.

   Brooke with Maria and Lynn in the early morning of another windy day.

Our Albergue is at the end of town, all uphill.  When we reach it there is a steep set of stone stairs that seem insurrmountable after the 20km.  However, the very friendly and encouraging face of Paco (the innkeeper) peeks over the rail and motions for us to come up.  He takes my pack off my back when I reach him.  He is kind and helpful.  There is a shower, we do laundry in a basin and hang it in the sun.  Dinner is the rest of our sandwich from lunch.  Maria makes friends with a handsome Spaniard who buys her a bottle of wine and kisses her on both cheeks.  Raul makes sure to give her these kisses in the morning when he leaves before us.  Obviously, Maria has not lost her touch and is a charming companion.

Our walk to Castrojeriz took us through beautiful countryside on mostly dirt and gravel paths.  My legs are so sore I can barely walk, carrying too much weight.  Monday is a festival day so there will be no postal service to mail part of my gear on ahead.  Paco helps us with a solution as there is a service to carry my bag to the next Albergue for 7 euro.  I resist only slightly as my pride doesn't want to give in but in the end I sign up and place my 7 euro in the envelope and attach it to my pack.  We leave on Monday with me carrying only lunch and water.  It is a hard lesson.  I tried to prepare myself before this journey.  Thought I had to have everything in the pack.  Today I know exactly what I can do without.

21 April 2012 Burgos - Hornillos

Burgos to Hornillos = 21km.  A 950m climb greeted us and we had a stiff wind coming straight on.  Rain and Hail joined in the party and it turned into a very difficult day.  Hornillos was cold but I slept, too tired to eat.  There is no green but the green fields of Castellana.

  companions on The Way

20th April Santo Domingo de Silos - Burgos

We rode by bus through miles of countryside to get to Nati and the chanting Monks, stopping at many small villages dominated by an ancient church.  On our way back to Burgos along the same route, in the early morning, we stopped to pick up school children.  At the first stop a teacher boarded with the first group and maintained decorum throughout the ride to Lermer where they attended school.  They are well behaved children, well dressed with good shoes and backpacks.  They greet each other and laugh and talk to each other and the adults on the bus as well.

Santo Domingo de Silow

Burgos

In Burgos we spend much of our time wondering the beautiful old town surrounding the cathedral.  The place is immaculate and filled with all generations.  There are many families with children and it seems at every turn there is a small botique with the most beautiful childrenś clothes I have ever seen.  

Santo Domingo de Silos 20 April 2012

Nati (Natividad) is the epitomy of the Innkeeper.  She runs a tight ship, giving out orders to her son, husband, and daughter-in-law and does not truck any arguments.  For the wayfairer she has a ready smile and is full of enthusiasm for the product she sells.   For all her gruffness, she does have a kind heart for the monks across the street and the pilgrims in need of coffee.  Her family surrounds her like bees around the queen.  Unlike the queen bee, her purpose is anything but singular.  Despite her considerable heft, she is everywhere doing everything and handing out orders and advice like throwing bread to the minions.  She was born and has lived her whole life in Santo Domingo de Silos.  She touches her lips and her heart in a gesture that leaves no doubt about her feelings for her home and her world.

Nati's world is small and very well maintained.  The tumble of ancient but well tended homes and shops surrounds the cathedral where for thousands of years the monks have chanted the vespers in this lovely simple church.  A single light makes the dark wooden crucifix glow and directs our attention immediately upon entering through the large carved doors.  A group of German tourist off a bus line the front two pews.  Maria and I sit midway and a small group of locals dots the benches behind us.  They quietly chant with the monks.  It is an emotional experience quite unique and very unexpected in its intensity.  The evening finished with a bowl of Nati's hot soup castellana and a bottle of peasant wine with the earthy flavor the countryside.

Bon Voyage!

British Airways Flight from the International terminal, getting through security was without incident.  Saying goodbye to Monica and Jim was harder.  But their smiling faces and tender embraces will bring me home again.

Here I begin the travel required to reach the Way.  The way of the Pilgrim is two fold - exterior and interior.  The simultaneous movement of feet and soul through time and space.

April 14, we arrived (Pilgrim and I) a little early in London but still didn't make the flight to Madrid.  Our site seeing in London consisted of Terminal 1 at Heathrow.   Pilgrim napped until our later flight.

  Maria and Lucila met me at the Madrid airport. They whisked me off on the metro to the legendary "VILLA ROSA" which first opened in 1911 as a Flamenco Tabloa.  It is the hangout of Hemingway and his compadres.  We enjoyed a wonderful show and paella and Spanish wine, going home at 1am and the streets were packed with people enjoying the night air and night life of Madrid.  Tomorrow we go by bus to Toledo (Holy Toledo!) an hour south of Madrid.  Spain's former capital crowds 2,500 years of tangled history by the Tajo River.  The Spanish government has forbidden any modern exteriors due to the extraordinary preservation.

Madrid is a beautiful city full of beautiful people.  It has a wonderful energy.
   Pilgrim in the tulips at Madrid Botanical gardens

Pilgrim's progress

Pilgrim Packed for travel

Pilgrim doing research

waiting for baggage, Madrid airport

at the Prado

Departure

My mind is full of the details of getting on the plane but my heart is filled with the warm wishes from family and friends.  My checklists are almost complete and my bag is packed, for maybe the 7th time, and feels good on my back.  I have printed mailing labels so that I can mail the excess to Santiago if it becomes too much of a burden.  Maria is already in Madrid and will meet me at the airport, relieving one major area of concern.  I find that I am not as carefree as I was 30 years ago and think about possibilities a bit more. 

 I am striving for that youthful care-free attitude that I believe frees one to see what surrounds and infuses the journey.  I have a very small furry friend traveling with me.  I wanted to introduce you so that you can look for her along the way.  Her name is, appropriately, Pilgrim.  Her existence is owed to the child in me and I hope she finds the child in you as well.

the one who walks with you

The one who walks with you
by Lynn Ashcraft-Yonashiro

No surprise the rain
falling, no tumbling,
rushing in torrents
to nourish the earth.
We welcome you.
Take your time
stay a while
Your company comforts us
Mingled with our tears
washing down our fears.
Replete, the earth succombs
to your charms
turning green before my eyes.
Blossoms popping like
surprises at a party
look for the joy in a rain day
and there a friend you will see.
The one who walks with you
even when it rains

Packed and ready

An Epiphany Blessing

For Those Who Have Far to Travel by Jan L. Richardson

If you could see
the journey whole
you might never
undertake it;
might never dare
the first step
that propels you
from the place
you have known
toward the place
you know not.
Call it
one of the mercies
of the road:
that we see it
only by stages
as it opens
before us,
as it comes into
our keeping
step by
single step.
There is nothing
for it
but to go
and by our going
take the vows
the pilgrim takes:
to be faithful to
the next step;
to rely on more
than the map;
to heed the signposts
of intuition and dream;
to follow the star
that only you
will recognize;
to keep an open eye
for the wonders that
attend the path;
to press on
beyond distractions
beyond fatigue
beyond what would
tempt you
from the way.
There are vows
that only you
will know;
the secret promises
for your particular path
and the new ones
you will need to make
when the road
is revealed
by turns
you could not
have foreseen.
Keep them, break them,
make them again:
each promise becomes
part of the path;
each choice creates
the road
that will take you
to the place
where at last
you will kneel
to offer the gift
most needed—
the gift that only you
can give—
before turning to go
home by
another way.