The city of Portomarin is less than sixty years old. It is fascinating to see parts of the old city under the water of the reservoir. The entire church was moved piece by piece to the new city before the planned flooding. Clearly if it was in Perth County there would be endless bus delays as it was foggy again this morning. What was charming two days ago now seems oppressive and damp. Suddenly no more fog. We marvelled that it had burned off so quickly, then we turned around. The mist was still there but we had climbed through it—we were above it looking down. My heart was overcome by the beauty of moving past it.
Now a couple of pilgrim stories: • Roland Ian Kitchen aka Sneaky walked many Caminos. He found meaning in the walking: the direction, the calm, the social life, the full glass with new friends. Numerous marriages, five children he was proud of, and a grandpappy. He was heard saying, “I’d rather be a human being than a human doing”. He found time for his friends and everyone was his friend. In 2015 at 68 years of age, on his 8th Camino, Kitchen passed away in an Albergue in Ventas De Naron. His memorial quotes Thomas “Old Age Should Burn and Rave Away at End of Day” Good on you, Ian—Buen Camino. • Again Ventas de Naron. The tiny stone chapel of Magdalene. It is dark inside. He hears us at the door. He calls out a welcome. We see that there is no reason for light—he does not see. He takes my hand and wraps it around his so I can place the stamp on my credential. We press down together. He hands me a pen—10:10:17 he says in English. He smiles. I write the verification. He wishes a blessing for a Buen Camino. He chooses to not rail against his circumstances— perhaps he sees better than I do. Today was a rest day of only 17 km; so we are sitting outside our Albergue eating an ice cream bar and watching the acorns fall. Tough life of a Pilgrim😄 You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom.
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The morning mist is so thick the trees release dew like raindrops. Hundreds of spider webs glisten along the roadside—no spiders in sight. We walk as if in another world. The cattle moo from the lower floor of family homes. Yesterday’s laundry hangs limply from the lines with no hope to dry until the afternoon sun burns off the fog. Another magical morning in Galicia.
Many Pilgrims begin their walk in a Sarria as the official Compostela only requires one hundred kilometres. New pilgrims—new stories: • We are three older pilgrims—long on the road. They are fourteen twenty-something pilgrims starting in Sarria. We share one dormitory. They are doing what young pilgrims should do—staying up late and having fun. We are doing what older pilgrims do—heading to bed early and rubbing Vaseline on our feet. I hear something in Spanish that I think roughly translated is, “Oh, oh....there are some old geezers in our room”. We stick our earplugs in and hope for a good sleep. In the middle of the night one twenty-something, still full of energy, hops out of his bunk. He shakes the oldest of us awake and complains that OUR snoring is bothering THEM. The oldest pilgrim graciously apologizes. I curl up in bed and pray I don’t smack anyone. Although tired, today it is just a funny story to add my Pilgrim collection. And honestly...Good for you young Pilgrims for engaging in the challenge—Buen Camino. • He is from Darwin, Australia. He is a training supervisor with St. John’s Ambulance. Back Pack Jack travels on the rear of his rucksack. The adorable bear, complete with first responder uniform, seems to wave at all who pass. Jack is also a symbol that the Pilgrim carries an extensive first aid kit. He says he has already restocked it four times since St. Jean Pied du Port. He was happy to help a Camino Cyclist that was thrown from his bike hitting the trail full force—that definitely had to hurt. Thanks to Back Pack Jack and Company and Buen Camino little bear. We are in Portomarin which means we have under 100 km left! You Are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. “There is a contemplative in every one of us nearly extinguished by the noise of the day but still holding on in hope of relief...aching to touch the sacred silence that makes us whole.”
Dear HS Friends,
It is not Thanksgiving in Spain, but it is always good to be Thankful. We found all of these things on the trail today. Can you figure out what everything is? Sincerely, Flat S The ebb and flow of the Camino often switches up your Pilgrim group. You will walk with one group for a while and then they either fall back or move forward and along comes a new set of fellow travellers. One German fellow calls these our “five minute friends”. Because the travel is difficult and the Albergues are tight you quickly develop an odd sort of intimacy. In real life how many people would say to a virtual stranger, “Can I borrow your scissors to cut the dead skin off of my feet?” (Actually overheard this!)
Our current group is a lot of fun: us, two UK rugby enthusiasts (who give your Dad a hard time re Arsenal), a couple from New Orleans that ooze Southern hospitality, and a single woman walker from Nova Scotia the knows everyone’s name. Last night we stayed in a tiny town with no restaurant and a mid-sized convenience store. Fortunately your Dad had olives, rice, and tomatoes—New Orleans had a giant chocolate bar and roasted peppers—your Uncle had a jar of jam, orange juice and Cola Cao—Rugby knew where to find a corkscrew—and Nova Scotia was easily talked into ice cream from the convenience store. We feasted both dinner and breakfast. After breakfast we began with a step ascent. I thought I was the only one struggling until I reached the top. My five minute friends were there! They were ready for a rest too and had already found a bar serving coffee looking over the valley. So with the local sheep dog at our feet and two chickens and a rooster circling the table we began a challenging day together. We walked up and down (although more down than up) on acorns, chestnuts, and cow poop. Sweet chestnuts are abundant in Galacia. Although the magostas (chestnut roasting festivals) aren’t until November they are already tumbling from the trees. Many times today what we thought were falling leaves turned out to be a narrow miss with a chestnut dropping to the path. Loving the bit cooler temperatures. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. With the exception of the full moon we were in almost complete darkness. We knew the day promised to be strenuous so we started earlier than usual. The first five kilometres were deceptively cool and the descent gradual. Then we happened on Pilgrims hiring horses to take them up to O'Cebreiro. For future reference, if Pilgrims consider an ascent by horse or mule the hike is likely to be a challenge.
So, we shared the paths with other pilgrims, horses, farm equipment and herds of cattle. One foot in front of the other over and over and over again. It was after two before we reached the highest point at 1364 m. Another hour through the mountains before our Albergue. The view points were spectacular. One pilgrim, about my age, was asked if she was enjoying it. I loved her answer, "Enjoy is the wrong word...I feel on the verge of tears with every step...but I still feel so incredibly happy". The day didn't turn out quite as glorious for a couple of Pilgrims. At least two Pilgrims were removed from the hill by ambulance--one on IV for dehydration. The Pilgrim pipeline says they are doing fine. When I was wondering if I was crazy to be attempting this today I was reminded of a pilgrim story from a couple of days ago: • In 2016 Michael Curator was sixteen years old. He was from Wales. How exciting to be on a school cycling pilgrimage with twenty of his mates. They were averaging 80+ km a day. Near the end of the trip Michael collapsed. To the shock of his parents and community he didn't make it. If that were the end of the message we would only have tragedy. However, his memorial stone erected in the Irago Mountains sends only encouragement to live fully: "The boat is safer anchored at the port, but that is not the aim of boats" We are in Galicia now. Celtic music, thatched roofs, and a bit of a different dialect. Of course we haven't mastered "regular" Spanish yet; so it probably doesn't make that much difference. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. The morning was cool breezes, vineyards, mountains, our fine feathered friends calling out there greetings from the side of the road, and cafe con leche in the shade of yet another castle. The afternoon was intensely hot, roadside paved trails, cement barriers, and lunch beneath the shade of a highway overpass. It was definitely all a grand adventure. A few of my Pilgrim friends having been having some adventures of their own:
• As soon as she speaks you know she is 100% Newfoundlander. After two weeks her daughter went home to The Rock. She wanted to go with her--she wasn't sure she could do this on her own. Frankly, she is killing it! Meet her once she is your friend forever. A couple of days ago she decided she wanted to change her hair to match her new confidence. She walked into a random small town salon, pointed to a colour, and said "Go For It!" She looks fabulous. She thinks she sent a picture to her daughter, but admits technology is not quite her thing either--she thinks it might still be sending😄 She even ventured on to booking.com. Turned out she booked 7km away instead of 17km. When we left her she had found a cafe that sold toast, eggs, bacon, and fresh orange juice. "May as well enjoy my day--after all I only have to walk 7 km", she said with a huge smile on her face. You Go Girl! • Paige is a young American. She walks fast. She leaves early. So early that is was still dark when two Germans and a South African spy her passport on the trail. The Camino has a pipeline. When there is a problem we pass the message up the trail. We all take a picture of the passport-finders. Are you Paige? Do you know Paige? Tell Paige these people have her passport. Someone passes the info to a young Brazilian with fresh and fast legs--he knows Paige. He catches her 7 km later in VillaFranca. Paige hadn't yet realized her loss. We see them up ahead. The heroes arrive just behind us. Paige and Passport are reunited--a happy ending. Big "hill" tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. |
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Ray & Diane HomewoodSharing the Blessing of Travel Archives
January 2018
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