June 5, 2012

From Los Arcos to Torres del Rio (7.6 km)

I am a mother on the Camino today.

I sleep in until 6:30.  Me feet are feeling better but they are still tender.  I think today should be a rest day and enquire to see if I can stay for another day.  Yes, but I must leave for the morning when they clean the Albergue. Well, it has been raining all night, thunder storms in fact, and it is still raining this morning.  It is Sunday and nothing is open so what would I do and where would I go for the morning?  Even the church is closed until 3:00.

So I decide to walk to the next village, only 7.6 km away, nice and easy.  I take my time this morning.  The Albergue offers breakfast for an extra three euro – all the coffee you can drink and delicious home made ryebread, just like my mother makes, with butter and jam.  Ahhh, a taste from home.  I enjoy three cups of coffee, leisurely.  I visit for a few minutes with the Irish girls but they are heading out early, 7:00, undaunted by the rain.  Alex is going slow today too so we start to chat over our coffee.  We end up having a rather interesting conversation about yoga and meditation and energies, just what I needed.  She is only 23 years old, but is very grounded and seems much wiser than her years.

Breakfast with Eleanor (left) and Sinead (middle),
the Irish nurses and Alex (right) from the US.

As I start to pack up my stuff, I notice Javier, the young lad who gave me the lower bunk, is still hanging around.  I´m surprised as it is usually the young people who are first out the door.  He seems sad to me and I ask him a couple of times if he is ok.  Then he asks if I am walking and if he can walk with me.  I´m quite surprised.  Why does this young lad want to walk with an old woman like me?  As we pack up our gear, he offers me his Compeeds which are a necessity for bad blisters.  He says his feet are perfect so he doesn´t need them.  He refuses to accept money for them, even though I know they are expensive.

Javier and I are the last ones to leave this morning.

And so we set off together.  He is so sweet and offers to switch packs with me because my pack is heavier.  Of course I refuse the offer.  He speaks about as much English as I speak Spanish so I think we´re going to have a pretty quiet walk.  In short order, we take a wrong turn and a Spanish lady directs us back to the pack.  I must pay more attention!

As we continue to walk, I notice he is teary eyed.  I ask him is he is ok, and he replies he has allergies.  When I offer him some medicine, he admits it isn´t allergies but he is really sad.  I tell him that if he needs to cry, just go ahead and cry.  I don´t mind.  And so he cries.  And cries.  After he tells me what is bothering him.  What I get from his story is that he is estranged from his mother, he is unemployed even though he has a university education (PhysEd teacher), and he is still hurting from his parent´s recent separation.  There is a lot weighing on this lad.  I can´t offer any words of wisdom because I simply don´t have the language skills.  All I can offer is empathy, sympathy and a shoulder to cry on.  I think it is what he needs.

And then we get lost, again.  This time, we have no idea which way to go and nobody is around.  Luckily a tourist drives by, sees our confusion, drives a little further and then turns around to come back to us.  ¨I saw pilgrims in the village that way,¨ he tells us, even offers to drive us.  I am tempted but it is only a couple of kilometres away.  He has done his good deed for the day.

Detour from the Camino – this way to the town with pilgrims.

As we approach the town, I suggest we get a cool drink.  It is then that Javier discloses he is broke.  He had started the Camino with a girlfriend who has since left him to party and she had the money.  He has 50 cents to get to Logrono where his uncle lives.  I buy him a drink and give him all the food I have in my pack.  I´m stopping soon and don´t need it today.  He is moved to tears with gratitude.  This boy is such a lost soul, my heart really goes out to him.

At the restaurant, I run  into Agnes and Schushan,
the Hungarian girls.

A few kilometres later, I reach my destination and we say our good byes. He kisses both of my cheeks and thanks me for being a mother to him today.  I slip him 5 euros (my kids will laugh when they read this  – this is something my mother would have done 🙂 and wish him well.

I check myself into an Albergue – it´s big and seems to be attracting all the young people.  Little do I know that all the old people have gone to the one down the road….well, no one sent me the memo, how was I to know?  After settling in, I decide to walk around the little village to see what it has to offer. It is Sunday and everything is closed.  But pilgrims are coming through in hordes and I look to see if I recognize anybody.  First I see Daniel, the young lad from England who had joined our dinner party a few days ago.  And then, lo and behold, Pauline shows up.  She stops to have a coffee with me so we can catch up on the past few days.  She has lots to share as she has been up to some ¨shenanigans¨ as she puts it. She has me laughing my head off with her stories.

Home for the night. These beds were pretty rickety
and creaked every time someone moved. 

View from the bedroom window. Later, this road
was busy as pilgrims passed through the town. 

She has given me permission to share her funniest story.  I hope I do it justice.  When she was in Pamplona she decided she was going to skip curfew and stay out all night, along with two other Pilgrims, a couple of 40 something year old guys from Belgium and Austria.  The plan was to stay out all night and then go back to the Albergue when it opened up at 6:00.  Well after a night of drinking and dancing they all got tired in the wee hours of the morning and decided to try to get back into the Albergue which of course was locked up tight.  But there was an open window which one of the guys hoisted Pauline up to.  As Pauline pointed out, they were completely pissed but had the wherewithall to empty their pockets of change so as not to disturb their fellow pilgrims….but they couldn´t remember where they put the change.  Anyways, Pauline got in through the window and rummaged her way through the house to the front door: it was padlocked and there was no way to let someone in (how´s that for a fire hazard!).  Anyways, the other guys had to hoist themselves up through the window too.  In the morning, Pauline overheard another Pilgrim tell the story of a vivid dream he had where he swore he saw someone come in through the window and stand over him….It was all Pauline could do not to laugh.

After coffee, Pauline heads off to Viana, 10 km away.  And then I see Laila, my other friend on the Camino.  Later, I go for a big lunch and end up eating it with an older man named Roger, also from Ireland.  It was a quiet, thoughtful lunch, which I really enjoyed.

I spend the afternoon lying on my bed, writing in my journal, just resting my feet as my nurses had ordered.  I am anxious to get on the computer to let everyone know how I´m doing, especially Chris who I haven´t talked to since day 2.  That computer has a voracious appetite for euros….I spend 7 euros and only post two days.

I hang out with the other pilgrims who are all young people full of fun. They don´t seem to mind having an old lady hanging out with them and I notice how much I am enjoying myself in their company.

My dinner is a simple affair as I´m not very hungry after that big lunch.  I buy a half dozen eggs and boil them.  I eat two for dinner along with a piece of bread and some of my salami which seems to be lasting forever.  Delicious!

My dinner tonight.

I buy some fruit, an orange and an apple for just 80 cents in the Albergue store.  Now, along with my remaining boiled eggs, I have food to get me started in the morning.

I am feeling great.  My feet are healing nicely and I feel rested and ready for a good day on the Camino tomorrow.

From Cerauqui to Los Arcos (35.6 km)

Sore feet are my companions on the Camino today.  I get up around 6:00 which seems to be the norm now and I make two crucial errors before I even begin to walk.  First, I toss one of my water bottles into the garbage.  So far I haven´t used it because water is plentiful along the Camino.  Why carry the extra weight? Second, I decide to wear my wool socks with my sandals to give my feet some extra cushioning….what was I thinking?

At this point I have problems with both feet: a blister that is just festering on the bottom of my right toe on the right foot and pressure spots on the inside of each foot, on the bone just below the big toe.  Each step hurts but after awhile it just becomes part of the walk.  I am deluded into thinking my feet are not as bad as I had originally thought.

The scenery is beautiful today as I pass through vineyards, gentle hills, fields of wild flowers.  The terrain is easier too thank goodness.  But it is stinking hot and humid.  By 8:00 the heat is almost unbearable.

Elizabeth, the Swiss women I met last night, is ahead of me.
She is a fast walker and I can’t catch up.  I give her a nickname today:
she carries a large umbrella on the back of her pack
and she sings as she walks.  She reminds me of Mary Poppins
and I’m sure she’s going to just fly away at any moment. 

I am not in a very good mood today.  There aren´t many pilgrims around so I am stuck with my own miserable company, no one to distract me from myself. Of the few pilgrims I meet, no one seems to want to talk.  Maybe I´m not the only one in a bad mood today.

I love these markers on the ground as I pass through towns.
Each is so original like this one with the cyclist on the side. 

I walked behind this group of nuns all though a small town.
They were carrying palm leaves in their hands. 

When I reach Estella, I find a large grocery store where I buy a sports drink similar to  Gatorade and I down 500 ml on the spot.  I know I am dehyrdated and almost immediately start to feel better, even my mood starts to improve.  But I don´t think I´m really thinking straight because I´m looking for a plastic poncho and ask at the grocery store which doesn´t have one.  As I´m filling my water bottles with the sports drink, I see a camping store across the street and think that would be a good place to buy camping supplies.  Doesn´t even occur to me to go there to find my poncho.

I then pass a commercial winery that has kindly provided a water tap for Pilgrims to refill their water bottles, AND a wine tap.  Yes, a tap that dispenses wine.  Well, I fill up my water bottles with water as I know I will need it for the walk ahead, but fortuitously, I have just finished drinking a coke and have an extra bottle on hand.  So I fill some wine into the bottle and drink it slowly.  Not bad.   I only have a few sips because I still have a long way to go.

Enjoying just a taste of wine in my coke bottle at the wine fountain.

The first 13 km have gone by very quickly today, but as the sun gets higher in the sky, I go slower and slower.  I am plodding along like an old work horse and keep saying: slow and steady wins the race even though I know this isn´t a race.

Just past the wine fountain, I find this old church that
offers an escape from the searing heat.

Inside the church, I find I am alone.  I set down my pack,
take off my shoes and rest for a while. 

This is what I´m thinking about today:  I am noticing that with all the people I am coming in contact with, some attract me and some repel me.  I actually feel an energy emanating from some people – both positive and negative.  Now, I´ve heard about the concepts of energy and chakra and such things and honestly have been rather a skeptic about it all.  But now I´m actually feeling the energy of people.  It´s really weird and hard to explain.  I´ll give you a couple of examples.  A couple of nights ago, when I was in Cizur Minor, I had to pick a bunk out of about 25.  There was a handful of people already occupying beds and I was instinctively drawn towards a bed next to a woman called Layla (yes, this is the Layla from Denmark who was part of our dinner party later that night).  I felt a peacefulness about her and a soothing energy from her.  I immediately took the bed next to her and we have become good Camino companions ever since.

Here´s another example.  Last night after dinner, I returned to my room and when I entered the room I immediately felt a negativity in the room.  I was shocked because the room had felt so peaceful earlier.  And then I saw three new women had arrived and were creating a bit of commotion as they were settling in.  They spoke a language I did not understand, and they were talking loudly and harshly.  Their presence had altered the energy in the room. And I felt it strongly!  I have no idea what to make of all of this and I hope I find someone to talk about it because this is so foreign to me.

Ok, let me get back to the day at hand.  I arrive in Villamayor de Menjardin at 1:00 pm feeling in very good spirits (maybe that wine and the sports drink helped a little).  My feet are feeling bearable but maybe I´m just used to the pain by now.  Regardless, my body feels strong and I am not tired in the least.  I must decide: do I stay or do I continue on to the next town 12.3 km away?  I estimated it would take me just over 3 hours and I figured I could do it so off I went.

I am surprised to see Elizabeth is ahead of me
just outside Villameyor.

I could have stopped here and saved myself a lot of grief.

When I reach a sign that said 9 km to go, my confidence waivers.  My feet are starting to hurt in new places and the sun and heat are relentless.  There is no shade on this stretch of the Camino and it feels unbearable (later I find out it is 38C not including humidity).  One kilometre later, I must sit down and find the courage to take off my socks and assess my feet.  I don´t want to do this.  I am afraid of what I might find.  Sure enough, my baby toe is a bloody mess and new blisters have formed on both feet.  I look around at my beautiful, serene surroundings and can see up and down the Camino for miles – not a soul in sight for many kilomtres.  I am alone, alone with my messy feet, and 8 km to go.

It’s a long, lonely road with no shade, no pilgrims, just me and my blisters.

After feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes, I snap out of it and get to work with my medical kit, bandaging things up as best I can.  At this point two pilgrims show up, seemingly out of nowhere, two French ladies, a little older than me.  They stop and show real concern.  They only speak French. One is a nurse, how lucky I am.  She looks at my feet and what I am doing and says I will be ok, just go slowly.  There is nothing really she can do to help me.   But they do tell me where they are staying, they say it is really nice, and offer to phone ahead to make a reservation for me.  They are concerned that I will arrive so late that there will be no bed for me in town.  I actually decline their offer, maybe a little too rigid for my own good, as I am quite adamant that I want this Camino of mine to just happen, without any planning.

At this point, I decide to put my hiking shoes on, don´t ask me why because I don´t know what I was thinking.  Maybe I just wasn´t thinking straight at this point.  Anyways, I have to empty out my entire pack to get my hiking shoes from the bottom and I put my sandals in the bottom and refill my pack.  Within a few steps I know I have made yet another mistake but I just don´t have the energy to empty my pack again…I just want to keep walking and be done with all of this.

It is now about 4:00 in the afternoon and I am suffering under the blistering sun (haha but it really wasn´t funny).  As I hobble along in pain I wonder why I pushed myself, why couldn´t I just be content and stop at the last town.  Why do I always need to do more?

By now it has been several kilometres since the last water tap and I am starting to run low on water. Why, oh why did I get rid of that extra water bottle in the morning?  Now I need to ration my water so I devise a system to figure out how far I am going before I take a drink: 100 steps equals 10 meters.  I am trying to do math to figure out how much water to drink ever half kilometre.  Why do I resort to doing math when things get really tough, aren´t I suffering enough already?

I am relieved when I finally see Los Arcos in the distance.  I am out of water
and food.  My last snack was an hour earlier when I remembered I still had
the chocolate bar from Italy (remember, Chris gave it to me in St. Jean Pied
de Port).  It was completely melted and I ate it with my spoon – chocolate soup. 

Finally I reached the town at about 5:45 pm.  I had been on the road for 11 hours.  I must have been delirious at this point because I don´t stop at the first Albergue.  No, I decide to search out the ¨nice¨ Albergue the French ladies are staying at which happens to be at the other end of town.  When I get there, they have one bed left.  Normally, I accept the bed sight unseen, but something didn´t feel right in this place and I asked to see the room first.  Maybe it was the lady who grabbed my walking sticks covetously and kept saying how nice they were.  She showed me the room (without relinquishing my walking sticks) and it was awful – small, stuffy, full of people and their stuff.  I say no thanks.  She hangs onto my sticks as we walk back to the office and then she shows the sticks to her husband and then her elderly mother who proceeds to get up and walk around the room with them, admiring them tremendously.  I am convinced if I stay herethat would be the end of my walking sticks.

Next I go to the Municipal Albergue where I find they have plenty of beds in the dormitory which holds 30 bunk beds spaced six inches apart.  No thanks.  What is wrong with me?  Can beggars really be choosers at this point in time?  So I walk back into town (haven´t I walked enough today) and check on of the last two hostels.  The first is completely full, not even a corner on the floor to spare for me.  I then drag myself back to the first Albergue at the entrance to the town (I´ve probaly walked an extra 2 km at this point) and now I´m certain they will be full too.  I am encouraged when I walk in and find two girls in front of me getting beds.  Sure enough they had beds.

When I walk into my bedroom, there are six bunk beds and all the bottom bunks are spoken for.  As I check out my options, a young lad in front of me asks me in Spanish if I prefer the lower bunk.  Of course, I reply.  Before I know it, he has moved his stuff to the top bunk and I have the lower bunk.  I am moved by his kindness.  Turns out the two ladies who came in before me and are also in my room, are from Ireland, AND they are both nurses. After showers and laundry, they help me patch up my feet and give me strict orders: no more than 20 km tomorrow.  And then they invite me to join them for dinner.

Dinner was a hoot.  The Irish girls (Eleanor and Sinead) are so much fun! We are also joined by Alex from the States who I immediately like.  We wolf down our Pilgrim´s dinner and even eat extra ice cream.  We are so hungry.

Back at the hostel, we hang around the common area for a while, enjoying good conversation.  We finally hit the sack close to 11:00.  Another good day on the Camino!