Looking back

 

It's been almost two weeks since the last time we just stepped out the door and walked for eight hours.  In some ways, it seems like yesterday, and in others, it seems like ages ago, or perhaps we never did it at all...just dreamed it.  

A few lingering impressions:

The walk definitely had sections, but for me, rather than being divided into physical, mental, and spiritual (as predicted by others), the categories were a good deal more practical.  They were more like coastal sand & boardwalk, endless cobblestones (also known as Portugal), super-lovely forest walks, and joyless plodding through large cities.

Some days just got swallowed up in the task of getting from one place to the next.  Several, however stood out.  

• Day 1 was memorable probably because it was Day 1, but more so by the novelty, for us anyway, of walking miles of sand (Atlantic) beach on a well maintained boardwalk and the ridiculously high winds that ended up sandblasting us all day.  Some people pay a lot of money for dermabrasion and we got it for no extra charge.  Happy memory: ate fresh caught, fresh grilled fish from a grateful family serving it alongside the trail.

• Day 2 was another sand & boardwalk day, but without the super high winds.  We had a picnic lunch in the stands of a football (soccer) pitch and watched some friendly guys play sand soccer - barefoot (ouch!). A frankly disturbing memory of that day was a young woman pushing a baby carriage through the sand with one child and two duffle bags.  Clearly not your typical pilgrim. Never saw her again. Still worry about her. Ended up at the fanciest seaside hotel of the trip.  Lots of amenities, less than great customer service.

• Day 3 included some inland forest trails.  Felt like we could breathe again.  Ran into our first take-what-you-need / leave-what-you-can trailside snack stop.  No one there, just lots of walkers, choosing snacks and beverages, taking pictures, leaving money.

• Day 4's standout memory for me - I stopped to soak (actually, shrink) my feet in a cold stream - the first of many times to come.  Hiking pal, Dave, slipped on a slimy rock and took a nosedive into the creek.  Could have be very serious - hiked on with just a bruise or two.  We considered it an affirmation of what we were doing.  Bom Cominho.

(scene of the crime)

• Day 5 we took our first off-trail detour through a forest - well worth it - stopped for a snack in a up-north Wisconsin style resort, and went to Spain on a little rubber boat, crossing the Minho River from Portugal...ending up in a lovely town with crocheted trees and park benches.  You can't make this stuff up.

• We finished Day 6 in the simplest hotel in the smallest town.  Perfect.

• Day 7 - Bigger town, bigger hotel, bigger beach, bigger castle.  Also gelato.  Not bad.  Also, prowled around on a replica of the Pinta (of Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria fame).  Apparently it stopped in this town (Baiona) on the way back from "discovering" America.

***Special note.  A special joy of the trip was making friends from around the world and seeing them over and over again along the route.  Example: I think it was is Baiona that we first went to dinner with a lady we kept seeing along the trail who came from Bavaria and was walking on her own.  When she called home and told her son that she was going to dinner with 4 Texans, the boy replied, "But Mom, you can't speak English!"  She did fine.  This scene would be repeated later in the trip, not only with her but with a gang of Dutch folks, 2 couples from California, a fellow and his nephew from Nova Scotia,...well, it goes on and on.

• Day 8.  We were fortunate to enjoy many forest trails.  We were unfortunate to spend many hot hours slogging through the largest city in our path.  Discouraging to reach our destination city and still have miles to go before reaching our hotel.  I think this was a 9 hour, 18 mile day.

• Day 9 we ended up in a town famous for its oysters.  Unfortunately we were too tired to stay up until any restaurants were open for dinner (9:00 p.m.) and had a nice seafood, but no oysters, dinner at our hotel.

• Day 10 was spent in a nice town where we gave ourselves a day off.  We enjoyed the extra time, went to visit a nearby fishing village with was lined with these granaries which resemble micro-chapels made of stone.  This was also laundry time (Did you know that laundromats there come with their own soap? We do now).

• Day 11 seemed extra long and difficult - although it wasn't any longer or more difficult than any other.  If anything, it had more lovely diversions along the way - waterfalls (and ice cream) at a Natural Park, and a hotel at the end of the day with thermal pools and a spa!  The sluggishness after the previous day just melted away in the hot waters of the pool :)

• Day 12 was uneventful with a finish in the town of Padron - where legend has it that the body and head (severed by Herod the Great) of Saint James were transported by ship to be buried.  Later, these remains were moved up the trail to Santiago (literally, Sant/Saint Iago/James) where the great cathedral awaits as our final destination.

• Day 13.  Just a little giddy - Could this be the last day?!? - we headed out for perhaps the longest, hilliest day of the Camino. Lots of thoughts and feelings on this one.  For one thing, we had merged with the Central Portuguese Camino several towns ago (we started on the Coastal version) and we now regularly shared the trail with lots and lots (and lots) of other pilgrims.  The enormity of this undertaking and its worldwide popularity began to sink in.  I could not help but begin to feel the weight of history: over a thousand years of pilgrimages, untold millions of pilgrims (500,000 just last year), and around 3500 finishing in Santiago every single day in May on one of the 7 different routes from across Europe and beyond.  In addition, although people these days walk a Camino for a huge variety of reasons, the rationale for the establishment of the Camino in the first place, and the motivation for many still today, is the veneration of the relics of Saint James and the completion of a personal spiritual journey.  We attended one of the three daily pilgrims' Masses in the cathedral.  The place was packed and once again you felt like a part of something way bigger than yourself.
  
  We had a little celebratory gelato just before completing our last kilometer.  Entering the plaza of the cathedral is an emotional experience, regardless of your experiences, your intentions or your distance covered.  We were glad to be done - and immediately missed the rhythm of of our daily walk.

Fortunately, Marcia and I had the company of two very thoughtful and fun hiking pals from our Hiking Club in Sun City, Jill and Dave Haus.  Among other things, we had never spent this much time with them on the trail so they hadn't heard all our stories before!  They were good listeners and great trail companions.

Unfortunately, Marcia suffered mouth sores the last three days of the walk.  Super determination on her part and as much encouragement as the rest of us could muster got her through.  Nothing could take away the feeling of accomplishment and wonder when we all arrived in Santiago.

Thanx for following along.  It's been a journey.