Day 20 - September 10: dedicated to my good friend Angel....

who is an awesome mother to three young boys, and another person for whom I have the greatest admiration. I think Angel will know why today was dedicated to her.

Michel and I left the Monastery at 6:55, our usual time.  It is not as cold, and it really is a perfect day for hiking. The sun comes out and I do my daily sun salutation, dropping my walking stick, and doing this little daily ritual.  I pass a tenter, a young man camped out on my left, who is doing the same sun salutation I just did.

I hike pretty much on my own all morning, from Sahagun, through various villages. We have breakfast in Bercianos del Real Camino, where the owners have this beautiful, new, clean café bar and restaurant.  When I ask why they play North American music (some Canadian or American female folk singer, but her name escapes me),and not Spanish, they tell me it is because it is calm and soothing. No Spanish folk singers then, I guess, sing calm and soothing songs?  Great place to stop, mon oncle Eloi et Louise.  I will post the picture with the owner Andrea, and the name of the café.

The senda (pathway) is somewhat shaded, and although it is besides the autopista, it really is nice. Hey, this is still the Meseta, 900 metres about sea level, and the scenery is still the same - flat, dry, arid, with fields of things growing I don't recognize.

I notice between Bercianos del Real Camino, and El Burgo Ranero, that there are these same pieces of paper on the path. They are a lot of them, neatly written in black on note sized paper. I finally pick one up, out of curiosity, and see that is an advertisement for a Bar-Café-Albergue in El Burgo. It seems like creative advertising gone amok. Why would these little leaflets be scattered all over, indiscriminately? I am so curious, so I decide to stop into that establishment when I get there.

I arrive, and it has such a cute sidewalk patio set up.  I go up to the owner, and show him the paper I picked up. He looks at me with big, sad brown eyes, and says "Someone took all our papers, and they throw all around, to make us look dirty".

Here is the the story of Manuel and Svetlana, the operators of this Albergue.  Manuel is Spanish, and Svetlana is Bulgarian. They met on the Camino in 2012, and fell in love. For two years they worked in the hospitality industry of the Camino, until they had enough money to lease this place for six months, and have their own business.  It has been very difficult for them. They have not been accepted by many in this small town. Competition is very fierce for the peregrino dollar, and some have resorted to dirty tactics, it seems. They tell me their story, without rancour, and with sadness.  They are Muslim.  They don't tell me that, but I know they are.

Their Albergue is beautiful, and Svetlana proudly shows me their beautiful garden. I wish I could stay here, but I have to meet the others in Reliegos.  However, Lucy my Belgian friend, stops in with me, and Michel. I decide to support this lovely couple, so I spent all my day's budget here. I buy sangria and olives, homemade postcards and Camino flechas made by Svetlana. Any other Peregrino going by (it is by now around lunch time), I tell them in three languages that it is a marvelous place to stop.  An American and his Italian girlfriend stop, for the same reason I did. They picked up the advertising note on the ground. They decide to stay the night. So, maybe these dirty tactics will work in reverse?

I spend almost two hours there, chatting with Svetlana. She tells me their lease is up at the end of October, and they will NOT renew. They will be leaving, and have taken the steps to open another Albergue closer to Leon.  They hope to be in business early next year.

The others have gone on. I give her a big hug, wish her and Manuel well, and go on my way, thinking "Why is it so hard to accept others who are different from us?" Here is a young couple who could have stayed here and helped rebuild a dying village, and instead they are being driven out by narrow mindedness and ignorance. The bigger city of Leon will be more welcoming, I hope.

I arrive in Reliegos by 3:30. It has been a 30km day, but I did it my way, stopping and doing what I wanted, as I was alone. Lucy is already at destination, having a drink outside, when I arrive, and where my wonderful partner on this journey, has procured our rooms and worked her magic.

I go to the bar to get a drink of Sangria. I think that Spaniards are NOT used to North American women speaking Spanish.  This guy named Marcel strikes up a big conversation with me, as I order. I figure he is the owner. He isn't.

What Marcel is the the Don Juan of Sahagun, a "bon vivant" " chanteur de pomme" philosopher of the village, who is totally charming and tries to bewitch five, sixty something women (sorry Nancy, I know you are only 59!)

I can understand him as long as he speaks Spanish, but when he tries to throw in his little bit of English and French, then everything becomes pretty much "Greek" to me!  He buys some drinks for those not drinking, Baerbel and Joan; he then gets himself a drink and proceeds to stand there and discuss the Spanish government, life and current affairs. It really was a lot of fun!  I was quite content to sit there and be entertained by this Lothario, who kept trying to flatter us all with his compliments.  I am not about to forget Marcel! Besides, he reminded me a lot of my cousin Bruno in his looks and his way of talking.  J'espère que ça ne te dérange pas que je dise cela Bruno! 

Sorry these last two paragraphs are underlined. I don't know how that happened and I am not about to play around with editing and lose my blog.

I have my first big blister, on the heel of my right foot. Lucy comes and bandages me all up, bless her heart. Nancy is usually the foot care giver.  

Tomorrow Nancy will attempt to  to walk to Leon. If not all 24 km, then some.  Ninety kilometres in three days - I am doing okay!
Blogging, laundry, a cold sandwich in our room, a glass of wine on the patio with Lucy, and it is bedtime again, at 9:30. Tomorrow, we do it all again. For that, and all that this Camino has meant and been for me up to now, I am full of ...

love and gratitude for where I am, Reliegos, Spain.

Day 19- September 9: I can't walk anymore is what I think when I go to bed and then...

this damn rooster wakes me up at 5:15 and just doesn't stop crowing. So I have no choice but to get up and hit the road.

Michel and I are gone by 7:00 am, again, when we leave C de C.  Good riddance. Not a place I want to see again. I had to sleep in a dorm with 20 other people, communal - male and female showers in the same bathroom, all of which does not make me a happy camper. I just don't take a shower.

It is a quiet morning, nowhere near as cold as yesterday. We hike, me ahead usually, and he behind. He is a nice, sweet man who doesn't say much. He is a 65 year old grandfather of four children, and with his wife unable to walk, she has paired up with Nancy to take taxis to the next town. I am left to take care of him, which really wasn't in my plans, but turns out that way anyway. More about that later. Am I sounding a bit cranky? Well, I am.

My morning improves, as I walk alone, reflect, think, and just enjoy the solitude. Our destination is Sahagun, a paltry 22 km. Piece of cake.

At some point this cute little blonde Italian girl, smaller than me, just blows by me. I know she is Italian because of the flags on each side of her backpack.  She is just a clipping it. I look down her backside and she is wearing these yoga type pants, and she has THE biggest wedgie I  have ever seen. I start to laugh, then restrain myself, and just smile for the next two km. I figure she made a lot of people smile today!

Shortly after the wedgie encounter, I find a pair of socks on the path. They are women's socks, dry and appear to have been inadvertently dropped by someone.  I put them in my backpack and for the next  5 km ask every woman backpacker I see, who has stuff hanging off her backpack, if she has lost a pair of socks.  I am about to stop for a coffee in the pueblo of San Nicolas, and thus take a left, instead of keeping right and staying on The Camino, when I pass by this woman. At the last minute I think to ask, "Did you lose a pair of socks?" 

She answers "Yes!"  Her name is Irinel and she is from South Africa. She had been using the socks as gloves, and was hoping that someone on the Camino would pick them up.  Two minutes more and I would have missed her.  It was Karma, and yes, it was The Camino Way.

It took us less than 5.5 hours to hike 22 km to our destination, Sahagun, where Nancy had gotten us this lovely room in a Monasterio run by nuns, who do mission work in Peru.

Nancy and ML were waiting at the entrance to the town.  I was so happy to see them. I was hot and tired.  The fountain was right there, so I just dunked my entire head in it.  Nancy and I continued on to our room at the Monasterio, assuming Michel is just behind. Well, no he wasn't! Trust a man to get lost when there is no woman to tell him where to go. I had left him at a little church just before the town limits. He goes into every church.  You would think this were some kind of pilgrimage we were on - some spiritual journey! 😊 Upon leaving, he took the wrong path, and walked for 5 km before a good Samaritain picked him up and brought him back to the entrance of Sahagun, where his wife had had the good sense to go herself,when she saw he wasn't coming behind me 10 minutes later.

I am sorry, but if you do not see those darn "flechas", nor any other Peregrinos for 5 km, you should know you are lost.  Don't you think?

Anyway, did I mention I was cranky?

At the Monastery we have this lovely, cool room, level with the street, and a big shuttered window, with bars on the outside. The sidewalk was right outside our window, so I could hear everything. At one point, a man walked by and let rip a huge "fart", which made me laugh. The couple walking behind him said, in Spanish, "It is good to hear someone laugh. Keep laughing". Then a horse clippety clopped down the street, we thought all by himself, only to find out later that he was being led by a young girl, whom we couldn't see because she was on the other side. Nancy took a picture of me trying to look out the window and see the horse.

All in all, a good ending to a good day in spite of a man getting lost and blaming it on me!

Cranky me bidding you all a good night, from Sahagun, Spain.

Day 18- Part B

Interesting tidbits of information-

There are wind turbines all over northern Spain - sometimes everywhere you look in a 360 degree circle. I am not talking the city, here, but on the Meseta and before, between Pamplona and Burgos. Spaniards have embraced this new energy technology in spades.

There are Korean shopkeepers in Spain- such hardworking immigrants seeking a better life for their children, all over the world.

The night that Nancy knew she was not going to be walking for three days, she sat on the bed as I blogged, and wrapped the end of my walking stick with duct tape!  I had been putting it off for days, or forgetting. I had gone through two dowels in less than two weeks so I figured I would just let the end use itself off. No, she taped it all up, knowing it would last longer. She is always doing for others, bless her heart.

I miss Ju saying, as we walked and she would see a place, "Is this the part in the movie where Martin Sheen says,does,goes, etc.?

I miss waiting for Nancy to catch up to me somewhere on the Camino, as in before entering a pueblo, so that we can chat about this and that, have a snack, catch our breath, or if it is the end of the day, and we are at destination - fist bump!

Day 18 - September 8: What a day!

dédiée a une tante que j'adore, et pour qui j'ai le plus grand estime car elle est très courageuse.  Je parle de ma tante Anne-Marie.  Cette journée de mon périple fut pour elle. 

I wait for Michel, my new hiking partner, outside the church in Fromista. It is really cold out at 6:30 am - only 6 degrees. We can see our breath.  I see people wearing gloves and tuques, but not this Canuck. I am tough!

The morning is spent making good time along this lovely country two track lane, alongside a river. We are the only Peregrinos around. The rest are going along the motorway, which is boring and hard on the feet. When we have a choice, we take to the natural paths.  We make really good time and by noon have done 20 km.

We do a little more along the motorway, to get through and past 
Carrion for then comes the Meseta and the heat.  ML and Nancy are waiting for us in Calzadilla de la Cuerza, another 18 km roughly.  I think we begin to realize we have bitten off more than we can chew.

Along the way, before we hit the Meseta, I chatted with a Belgian lady named Lucy.  She is Flemish, but I won't hold it against her that she isn't Walloon! LOL We have a lot in common - same size, same age, similar backgrounds and she walks the same pace as I do, which is great.  I find out she is a breast cancer survivor from 2008, who has hiked the Camino, EVERY year since, but one. I ask her why she does that?  She says so simply "To remind myself that I am ALIVE". How wonderfully simple and eloquent. 

Along the Meseta, in mid-afternoon I stop to talk to another couple. I had seen them going by with two small dogs, and each person pushing a kind of low, four wheeled buggy.  His name is Jose and hers Maria. She is Spanish and he is Portuguesev, but of Turkish descent.  He speaks French well; he learned it as a child. Turns out that he did well in life. They lived in Spain, he had a business and a house, but he lost everything in the financial meltdown in 2008. So he and Maria hit the road. Since they they have walked 51,000 km. It shows in their faces that they are people who are always outside. Their dogs are called Bruno and Daniela.  He shows me two booklets full of stamps of all the towns they have hiked to all over Eastern and Western Europe. He tells me he has never been happier.  They have no money. They sleep in a tent and earn a few Euros by selling jewellery that they make. They spend winters in Poland and Turkey, where they make or buy this jewellery that they later sell on the Camino.  I ask to see some. He shows me. As soon as I see one bracelet, I know this guy is real. His bracelet has the "protector eye" , a bead that you see all over Turkey, not just in jewellery.  This eye, when worn, is said to protect you from the people who would do you harm.  I know, because I went to Turkey and I brought back a bag of those "eye" beads.  I buy a bracelet and give it to Nancy that night, a reminder of the first day she couldn't hike with me, but could nonetheless share a memory of and therefore be a small part of that day.  I leave Jose and Maria, crying of course, and his words ringing in my ears, because I gave him 10 Euros for a 3 Euro bracelet. He hugs me and warns me to beward of "fake" Peregrinos.

The Meseta seems to go on forever, and it is getting hotter and hotter. I think - I have been hotter; I have been more tired; I have been thirstier; I have had more pain; I can do this. I just keep repeating that as I put each foot forward.  Michel is slightly behind me when we finally arrive to a point in the dirt road, where this little pueblo is suddenly right there, below us.  I wait for him and we finish the last of my water.  Walking down into town, who do we see but his wife Marie-Lynne, waiting for him with open arms. I think "How sweet." Then I see a figure in blue get up from a bench and hobble to the middle of the road. It is Nancy, waiting to greet me.  I manage not to crumble into a sobbing heap in the middle of the road; I keep my composure and we hug. She had been worried about me.  See, if I had been alone, who would have known it if I hadn't made it through the Meseta?  Everything in life

is SO much better shared!

So ended my day -  I hiked 37.8 km in 9.5 hours, in 32 degree heat. That feat is NOT something I am about to  repeat, Dieu merci.

At the Albergue, I dove into the small pool fully clothed, completely ignoring the "Ducha" sign. IT was freezing cold and so refreshing. So was the cerveza.  I ached all over, but... I made it.

There is so much more I want to write about, but this blog is long enough. I will do a Part B.

Bonne nuit et gros bisous à ma chère ma tante Anne-Marie et mon oncle Elphège, en vous souhaitant la meilleure chose de la vie - une bonne santé.

Avec amour et reconnaissance de Calzadilla de la Cueza, Espagne.

Jour 17 - 7 septembre: dédié à ...

à mes oncles et mes tantes. J'en ai plus de 52, par alliance aussi et je ne compte pas ceux en secondes noces. Je sais qu'il y en a qui aimerait faire El Camino (Michel et Marie-Claire?). Allez-y, n'attendez pas! Le Camino devient de plus en plus "touristique". Ce n'est pas El Camino de mon oncle Jean-Marie. Carpe Diem!

We left my favourite little pueblo in all of Spain, Castrojeriz, at 6:40 am and immediately climbed a mountain, Alto Mostelares.

By 12:01 I had hiked 19.2 km, stopping 45 min twice, for Nancy to catch up once, and for breakfast. It was awesome to go at my "express lane" pace. J'avais le vent dans les voiles. I finished my day at 2:30 pm, having hiked a total of 26.4 km.

I need to tell you that while there are angels on The Camino, there are many PITAS!  Like the two sanctimonious Irishmen in the pub in Burgos, condescending and a little arrogant. "Why are you here when you come from Canada? Just walking? Not visiting museums and churches?"  Those two should have been priests, in my opinion! Oops! Did I say that?

Then there was the hospitalero (volunteer) at the municipal Albergue in Hornillos, a Welshman, who gave me a very hard time when I went there to pick up our big backpacks. I had put the wrong Albergue address, an honest mistake. Well, he gave me the 10th degree... Shouldn't be doing that etc. I was hot and tired, and he wasn't listening to me. Then I saw Gilles, a fellow French Canadian, so I switched to French and hoped this guy would leave me alone. Gilles and I caught up on our news but I went to leave, the Welshman started in on me again, saying they could make me pay for having kept my backpack. Well, why didn't he say so from the get-go?I would gladly have paid, just to shut him up. He finally turned away, and I, in a total gesture of infantile frustration, stuck my tongue out at him. Gilles made a face as well and then we both laughed! Gilles stayed at that Albergue that night and reiterated my opinion of the man - a  total PITA!

The biggest PITAS of all continue to be cyclists. I finally saw a sign today addressed to cylists, JUST for them.  I will try to post it on FB. 

I hiked over 26 km today, and I feel great.  Nancy, unfortunately, has aggravated some old injuries to her right foot. She saw a doctor in Fromista tonight, and she has to rest for two-three days. So she will be cabbing and taking the bus. I will continue to hike and we will meet in our booked accommodations each evening.

The Camino provides for all eventualities. I will hike with Michel, our friend from Reunion, in the Indian Ocean, and Nancy will cab or bus with his wife, who has to be off her feet too for a few days.... How fortuitous.  

Nancy is one determined hiking partner.  She endured a lot of pain,for a long time, because she was afraid that if she went to see a doctor, he would tell her that her Camino was over. It isn't! She will soldier on, doing her Camino in her way.  That is what it's all about ...tenacity in the face of adversity.  My mettle has yet to be tested. If and when it is, I hope I can rise to the occasion half as well as she has.

BTW - PITA means Pain-in-the-Ass.

We have come to hate our guide book, written by an Englishman named Brierly, mainly because of what we feel are huge discrepancies in the distances between towns. He is our new BFF - and we don't mean what you think it means. We mean "Big Friggin' Fibber!"  We have a name for everything and everyone, don't we? It's more fun!

Buenas noches à tous mes oncles et tantes des deux côtés.  

Avec amour et reconnaissance de Fromista, Espagne.

MY CAMINO: Day 16B- forgot some interesting tidbits and pictures of "flechas"

Day 16- Part B

On the night we stayed in Hornillos, we met a charming Brazilian named Julio, traveling alone.  He was lucky enough to be the only man in our dormitory, with four women, and wouldn't you know it, he was on top of me - the top bunk that is!  I always seem to get the only rooster in the henhouse, near me.  Go figure!

Julio offered to do a Reike treatment on Nancy's feet before she went to bed that night, as a birthday present. Wasn't that sweet?  It seemed to help, as the next day we put in 20K and Nancy hung in there. Not that she is one to ever complain of the pain. That afternoon, who do we see yelling out "Hello Nancy and Joanna" from the top terrace of that night's albergue?  None other than Julio again.  He was standing there in his hat with the earflaps and a Québecois type Speedo, so happy to see us again. He offered more advice to Nancy on foot care, as we soaked our feet in the fountain, whose water was colder than the Baie de Chaleur if you can believe it!

We were sorry to leave Julio behind this morning, but because he was limping so badly himself, from ankle blisters, he decided to stay in Castrojeriz one more night, to recover.

We simply don't have that luxury, unless Nancy goes ahead by train or bus, and gets some rest. We are debating our options.  For now, Nancy soldiers on in pain, and I feel so guilty, because I am in tiptop shape, have never felt better, and am running around our albergue every night, while everyone else is limping, moaning and groaning, from foot, back and butt pain. I have been told that I am always in "the express lane" and that I am the Energizer Bunny.

These comments may come back to bite me!  Thanks to the rolling hills of the North Shore of NB, I was well prepared for all the different terrain we have encountered while walking here. 

Espérons que ça ira mieux pour Nancy bientôt!

FLECHAS

MY CAMINO; Jour 16-6 septembre: dedicated to a sister, daughter, mother, wife and grandmother... sans pareil!

Day 16 -

Dédie à ma seule et unique soeur Louise. Friends may come and go, but your sister is always your sister. Your ties that

bind are always there through good times and bad. On n'est pas toujours d'accord, et a vrai dire on est rarement d'accord mais cela n'empêche pas que je l'aime beaucoup, ma petite soeur!

Notre premier vrai lever de soleil depuis Logrono -en partant de Hornillo, ce matin à 7h30. J'ai pu faire ma salutation au soleil comme il faut, au lever, et non juste à son apparition pour deux minutes.  

On a marché 21 km, pour arriver à notre destination à 1H30.  Enfin du temps pour se reposer.

We have been staying in private albergues, and paying roughly 20 Euros per night each, but it so worth it to have your own room and bathroom. You can still interact and meet other people in the same albergue, who are in the dormitories.  

I need a good night's sleep, and that is very hard in dormitories.  Not to mention, depending on the size of the room, the snoring, smell, stuffiness and sometimes stench, honest to God. Let us not forget the bedbugs either. Fortunately, so far so good for Nancy and me.

We are still hiking through the Meseta, with a 100 metre climb  tomorrow, to Alto Mostelares, before getting back on the flat plains.  Hope to be in the city of Leon in three to four days at the most. We are a little concerned that we may be running behind,  since the heatwave cut into the number of km we could hike in a day. We shall see. We are still aiming to be in Santiago for September 28th.

We run into new and old friends on the Camino, like woven thread in a fabric. That is what makes THe Camino so special. We still haven't seen Ju again, but other people come in and out of our daily treks.  Our friends from Holland and Sweden have decided to avoid the crowds of pilgrims who join the last 100 km of the pilgrimage, the latter in order to get their "certificate" that they have done the Camino. Our friends have chosen to take the train, and enter Santiago from the Portuguese part of the Camino, which is less traveled.

Our Albergue tonight is absolute heaven. It has a fountain to soak our feet, and beautiful outdoor terraces, not to mention a gorgeous room with our own bathroom. Tonight, at 8:30 we will be visiting their wine cellar, which is in a cave underneath the albergue (hostel).

Last night at dinner, which turned into a kind of fiesta because it was Nancy's birthday, I decided to share my video of the singing Italians. We were 13 people around the communal dinner table, representing 8 different nationalities.  I explained my video in English, French and Spanish, and when everyone had appreciated how wonderful that "Camino" moment had been for me, one Spaniard said - Where are you from?  When I said Canada, he said "What do you do?"  He was curious no doubt because of the way I flipped back and forth between the three languages. When I answered in Spanish - "Yo soy profesora de idiomas.", there was instant spontaneous laughter all around. That explained it all! 

The SPANISH Guardia Civil, which is the national police, have stepped up their patrolling of The Camino, on deserted stretches.  This is the third day in a row we have seen their cars.  It is no doubt in response to the abduction of a young Asian American woman this spring, in the Rabanal area of Spain, which we are approaching.  I tell every woman I meet traveling alone, to be wary although El Camino is basically still very safe.

Thanks again to all of you who follow my blog, look at my pictures, share, and send comments.  I am far from home (I actually don't really have a home), so it is really wonderful to hear news from all of you.

Lou, a woman orginally from Edmunston, is staying in the same Albergue tonight. She is a Michaud who lives in Montreal. Quite the coincidence, that today of all days, I meet someone from where you live, Lou.

Buenas noches, hermanita querida. You are a good, kind and giving person, and I am indeed honoured to call you my sister. 

Avec amour et reconnaissance d'ou je suis ce soir - Castrojeriz, Espagne.