Day 27- September 17: dedicated to my favourite ...

son-in-law Alec and my favourite daughter-in-law Amanda (a piece of paper not needed), because you both have chosen to love one of my children. You have chosen Joëlle and Sean  to be your life partner. For that I am ever so grateful.  They both have someone to love and someone who loves them back. They are happy! When your children are happy, you as a parent, are happy too!

Day 27- Ponferrada is the absolute worst city to get out of-no flechas or conchillas to be found. We leave late- 8:00 because of a problem with my backpack that I sent on yesterday. Maybe in the excitement of having those half dressed Germans sing me Happy Birthday, I forget (or someone stole) the 7€ we pay for the service, out of the envelope attached to my big backpack. Either way, we sleep in a little

so I can make sure the darling owner of the hostal is up in time to give my two days payment to the pick-up guy. 

We have a lot of little pueblos (villages) to hike through. In one called Cumbrianos, there is a young man encouraging passing Peregrinos to go to the Cafe Gran Sol, just ahead. I ask him who is he doing this publicity for... his father, brother? He answers "For me!" He is the owner. I think "Yeah, right! You look all of 18! Turns out he is; his name is Ivan and he is 31! I chat up the waitress for this info and when I tell Nancy, she replies "Well, his being on a Scooter didn't help!" 

A cute chihuahua type dog follows us and sits ever so quietly by our table, waiting for a bite. He is so gentle, has no collar and looks thin. So of course, we give him some of our croissant. I ask the owner of El Cafe Gran Sol, baby faced Ivan, if the dog has an owner. He replies, with a smile "Yes! The dog just comes here EVERY morning, cause he knows the Peregrinos will feed him!" Suckered in by a cute pooch! 

We have gray skies again. I want to try to stay ahead of these big rain clouds. I am getting cranky; fourth day with no sun!

BTW- thank you all for the birthday wishes, especially the ones with personal messages. They MADE my day!

I have to mention that my credential, my pilgrim passport that I have to get stamped every day, is an unusual one. I bought it before leaving Canada, from the Association des Pèlerins Acadiens et Acadiennes du NB. Well, I get comments all the time from those who have to stamp it and record my passport, that MINE is the FIRST one they have ever seen before. Goes to show that not too many Acadians do the Camino, I guess. I LOVE being different!

By lunch we still have 14 km to go. I am tired of waiting for Baerbel and Nancy, who stop to smell the roses, (literally and figuratively) all the time. I like to get to destination, (today it is Villafranca Del Bierzo) and relax there. So I forge on ahead.

By the time I get to this pueblo, I realize our hostal is on the far end of town. There are no signs advertising it. I get tired of asking people where it is- no one seems to know. When I ask this sweet faced little Spanish grandmother, she is SO helpful that I burst into tears. She takes me by the hand, saying - "Trust in God.  Don't cry!  You speak Spanish so well.  My name is Amelia. Come, I will show you." Her kindness makes me cry all the harder and the sweet faced owners of the hostal, don't know what to make of me either, as I check in, still sobbing! 

The owner is 82 and looks ten years younger. He brings me to the bar, where I have to register. This is common when staying in hostales which are like boarding houses really, with your own room and bathroom. So cheap- 25€ per night and you aren't listening to the snores of 18 other people. I must admit though, that German men don't snore! I speak from experience, as I slept with over a dozen of them, the eve of my birthday! 

Señor Sweet Faced tells me that while he has never walked The Camino, he walks a lot every day.

A shower, and two glasses of the local red wine called Bierza, later, as I blog outside on the patio of a Cafe, with the sun deciding to shine brightly for more than two seconds, I know that all is right with my world, once again. Such is The Camino, which today, I did My Way!

Con mucho amor y agradecimientos de Villafranca Del Bierza, Espana.

PS: Señor Sweet Faced just came by to show me his birth certificate. I guess he thinks I don't believe him. I show him a picture of my 81 year old mother, who looks even better than him! I don't tell him that though!

Jour 26 - 16 septembre: jour très important car.....

le 16 septembre est dédié à celle qui m'a donnée la vie il y a 61 ans aujourd'hui! C'est ma chère Maman, la personne a qui je donne tout mon amour et ma reconnaisance. Je suis qui je suis, grâce à son dévouement, son instruction, son amour, sa sagesse, et sa bonté. Elle

m'a toujours appuyée, meme quand je lui ai fait de la peine.  A mother's love is the greatest love of all!  How blessed I have been in life, and continue to be... because I have a mother who loves and gives, always and forever, unconditionally. Gros bisous, gros câlins a 

ma chère Maman, Marguerite Morais Duguay.

The gift of life 61 years ago today, continues. This morning I came out of the bathroom at 6:30 am to be greeted by the enthusiastic singing of "Happy Birthday to you" by a dozen German men in various stages of dress, as well as Nancy, Lucie, and Baerbel. I think that well known chorus was heard all over the Albergue, and not just in our dormitory of 18 beds. As it turns out, one of those dozen Germans was also celebrating a birthday, Hermann, so again, in the Camino way, the moment was shared. Who arranged all this while I was in the bathroom? Nancy! She who doesn't speak German, but was able to gesticulate enough that one man said "So you want we sing the song?" Today is only half over, and I have already received so many beautiful gifts - not the kind you hold in your hand, but the ones you hold in your heart, forever! I will share them tomorrow, as I post a few pictures from today, take a break from the dreary, rainy weather, and thank God, St. Jacques de Compostelle, all other higher and divine beings, and one other very important person, for the gift of life!

Counting my blessings from Ponferrada, Spain.

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Jour 25 - 15 septembre - dedicated to....

my Uncle Charlie, just because I love him and he is a peach! Everyone should be lucky enough to have an Uncle Charlie!

We leave Rabanal, another village I fell in love with, in a steady downpour of rain, at 7:00 am. It is our first real rainy day.

We are joined by a Kiwi, a lovely lady from New Zealand, who, because of the mist, is leery of hiking alone.  Her name is Judith.

She joins us in the Druid like village of Foncebadon.

We chat. She has traveled widely and expresses a desire to visit Newfoundland someday, because of a book she read. She can't remember the name, and when I say was it "Colony of Unrequited Dreams", by Wayne Johnson (Are you reading this, CVF?), she is delighted!  Canadian authors travel widely as well, it seems. Marvelous book by the way!

By 10 am we have climbed 300 metres to Cruz de Fero- one of the most iconic landmarks along the Camino. 

I leave two rocks, one representing my past, and one representing the future. The one from my past came all the way with me from the Baie de Chaleur, and the other I picked up on the Camino, on the way to Rabanal.

Lucie, our Belgian friend, leaves behind a rock that her 57 year old friend painted and gave to Lucie, before she herself was euthanized at her request, due to early onset dementia. How sad for her friend, and yet how courageous, I feel, though I know not all would agree. 

People deposit their rocks all around the cross. When you first look at it you think, "How tawdry!" All these items, but not just rocks. However, those items hold strong sentimental value to those who left them behind, and we must remember that. Whether the rock is symbolic of hope, remorse, sin, forgiveness, goodbye, or love... they are ALL significant.

This was a heartfelt moment for all of us. There were tears and hugs all around.

There continues to be buckets of rain, heavy at times, light drizzle at other times.  

We only do 18 km today, but we hiked up not only Cruz de Fero, but also Alto Altar.  Coming down was steep and treacherous, with the rain having left mud and rivulets everywhere.

The scenery would have been spectacular, some of the best on the Camino, were it not for the rain, but still many FA moments nevertheless.

I let the pictures for Day 25, speak for themselves, as I have already posted them.

We are happy, Nancy, Baerbel, Lucie and I, to be safe and warm by early afternoon, in the dormitory of an Albergue, while the downpour continues outside. 

The others are napping. I am doing what I love, sharing my Camino with those of you who tell me that my posts are "leur vitamine du Jour", the first thing they read each day, and which they look forward to reading on a daily basis.  

C'est le partage, tout simplement. Everything is better shared, and that too, is The Camino Way.

By the way:

J'ai perdu le tissu pour nettoyer mes lunettes, encore une fois. Hier, Nancy en a trouvé un près de la clôture des croix, entre des roches. Elle l'a lavé et me l'a présenté dans notre chambre hier soir, en surprise. Que j'étais contente. That is so Nancy, always thinking of others.

BTW, I lost it at Cruz de Fero!

Nancy is on her third poncho, in two days. I am still wearing the one Linda gave that she told me was twenty years old. 

One last BTW:

I was trying to get onto my top bunk bed last night. There was no ladder. The closest chair had an apparatus for drying wet clothes, attached to it and attached to a second chair, so I dared not move either. A behemoth of a man, German, barely missing a stride on his way back from the bathroom, saw my predicament, threw me over his shoulder like a fireman and plopped me onto my bunk!   Just like that! Then he kept going!

Bonne fête à  mon neveu Jesse. Gros bisous!

Avec amour et reconnaissance de Acebo, Espagne.

Day 24- September 14: dedicated to Carly, who was one of my students many years ago...

in Grade Two French Immersion. She is now a teenager in Grade 9, and I want you to know Carly how proud I am of you! I know how hard you always work and will continue to work, to be the very best you can be.  I can't be around for you like I used to be when we lived in the same town, but that doesn't mean I care less.  I do care about you and your future. It shines bright and I will do everything I can to help you make that future even brighter.

Today we hiked from Justo de la Vega outside Astorga, to Rabanal Del Camino, a distance of 26.2 km, and which took 8.5 hours.

Astorga is the most beautiful little town. It is absolutely spectacular. Spend as much time there as you can if you are in the area. I hope to return.

We have chocolate and churros in a cafe. They are delicious. Like Canadian beaver tails, but long and curly. You dip the hot, fried dough into this thick, creamy chocolate. To die for!

We are on a tight schedule, so we cannot linger, unfortunately. We stop at this little church, where I go say a short prayer, and have a short cry. I always do that in these small churches, for whatever reason.  They are just so tiny, intimate and old; they invite solace, and comfort and sometimes that comfort can come in the form of quiet sobbing. On my part anyway. Always short lived. The Camino beckons. We must keep walking.

When Nancy stops to use the facilities of a cafe in Murias de Rechilvaldo, I take the opportunity to ask three young women if they want me to take their picture. They are enjoying a coffee in the sunshine. Well these three young Estonian women are good time P-A-R-T-Y girls. Maria, the  videographer, never removes the videocamera from her face. She tapes me as I chat with the other two, Christa and Carmen, both of whom speak English very well.  When I mention how I had prepared for the Camino, Carmen says "You have to prepare for the Camino?  Well, I had my nails done and my fake eyelashes put on. Was there something else I should have done?" She is serious! Her nails are a work of art and so are the Tammy Faye Baker eyelashes! 

Lucie continues on ahead and Nancy and I slow down. It is a typically cool, fall day and we are dealing with a headwind like we have not yet seen on the Camino. It is tough going at times.

We enter the village of Santa Catalina de Somoza, which has the prettiest entrance I have seen, and of which I posted a picture this morning.  Just before entering the village we meet Bienvenido, a grandfather who makes walking sticks. He also does free publicity for his son's Albergue in the village. We promise him we will stop in there for refreshments.  We do. Most Peregrinos stop a the first cafe or bar upon entering, so if you don't own that first rest place, you have to work that much harder to get the Peregrino business.

In the next pueblo, El Ganso, I am captivated by this hauntingly crumbling village.  I stop to take pictures of an ancient abandonned home.  We continue on and then coming around a bend, in the siesta time silence, we hear the sound of music, of a banjo. We both stop and listen, then continue around a flower covered wall, to find this "hippie" (no other word to describe him), strumming his banjo in the archway of a  very old building.  We stop once more, and buy a few lovely pieces of his handmade jewelry.

It is getting to be late mid-afternoon.  We are tired and anxious to be in Rabanal. 

We are fortunate enough to encounter some music a second time, as the sweet, nostalgic sounds of a harmonica waft through the air. This harmonica playing Peregrino comes level with us, and I thank him for the gift of music he has given us today, by saying a heartfelt thank you for it in seven languages.  He smiles, nods and moves on.

Everyone moves on. We are alone on this very old pathway, and I notice that the barb wired fence on our right is covered with different crosses, all made with twigs and sticks. These crosses go on for several kilometers.  I am suddenly struck by the thought that millions of people of great faith have walked this very path. They were pilgrims, who believed and left behind this proof of their faith.  My throat gets tight, and I swallow hard.  I have never said I was a pilgrim, or that I was doing a pilgrimage, because I would feel hypocritical doing that.  However, for the first time since I began the Camino over three weeks ago, I feel this connection to the past.

We finally arrive at Rabanal.  We are both exhausted and cold.  Our room is delightful.  We meet up with other Peregrinos, those interwoven threads that make up the fabric of our daily life on the Camio. Who is sitting having a drink, but our three good time PARTY Estonians, who have hooked up with a cute Frenchman. We all agree that there is no fun in being GOOD, as I stand at the bar waiting for a drink.  I blog, and while doing this, find out I can get a foot massage. It is a real toss-up. Do I take a shower or get a foot message. Massage or shower? Massage or shower?  I chose the massage.  No regrets. I don't have time for both.  

Nancy informed me this afternoon, during one of our stops, that she feels that the two most fit things on her when this Camino will be over, will be her jaws and her finger! I am so proud of her again, for putting in another big day of hiking.

We have a lovely supper in this magical village called Rabanal, and head off to bed. Tomorrow is another day .... of walking.  How blessed I am to be doing this.

Goodnight Carly. Sleep tight sweetie!

With love and gratitude from Rabanal del Camino, Espana.

Jour 23 - 13 septembre: Dedicated to....

Jour 23 - est dedié à ma jeune amie de Katimavik, Jessica. Je pense surtout à toi aujourd'hui car je vois beaucoup de jeunes femmes qui font El Camino seules.  Je demande à St. Jacques de Compostelle de veiller sur eux, comme sur toi, car je sais qu'avec la perte de ta Marie-Ève, toi tu fais toujours ton propre Camino.

Lucie is waiting for us and we leave Villar de Mazarife at 7:10 am.  We had paid for breakfast, which was to be for 7:00, but we couldn't wait. We found out later from a Danish Peregrino that the lady responsible for our breakfast slept in, and only showed up at 7:30.  He had to wait for his hat, which he had left in the dining room the night before. Thank goodness we didn't wait. We had 28 km walk ahead of us. 

It is a cloudy, overcast day, but I am enjoying the sweet fragrance in the air, as we walk.  I finally figure out it is the fields of ripe corn that surround us.  I have little to no sense of smell, so I was thoroughly delighted to be smelling something other than cow and horse manure.  

Nancy is in too much pain to continue past Puente de Orbigo, so I get some kind tavern owner to call her a cab, and we continue on.

El Puente (the bridge) de Orbigo is incredibly ancient and beautiful.  We stop on the other side for a huge carb lunch of spaghetti, bread and of course, a glass of wine.

It is a long, hard hike from there to our destination, just outside Astorga, but Lucie is with me and we push on, despite the wind and rain. 

Along come Charles, my French Canadian friend from Cornwall, to help me put on my poncho, as the skies really open up. We chat about our lives. He is a 39 unemployed bilingual lawyer who has been traveling around the world for the last two years, trying to find himself.  He does not want to return to the crass, corporate capitalist culture he was in, so... he is hoping to maybe start a business where he can work anywhere in the world. I wish him luck.  He is a sweetie.

I will soon have to duct tape my boots.  I am starting to walk funny and have had absolutely no luck in finding a pair to buy.  Even though, this far into the game, I really can't risk breaking in a new pair of boots.

Nancy is waiting at our new digs for the night; lovely room with a balcony.  The owners are so friendly and helpful.   I help them out by translating into Spanish, what some Fins wanted to know about eating and shopping.

People in northern Spain do not speak English.  Everything is "no problem". It isn't for me because I speak the language, but it must be very frustrating for those who don't have any Spanish.

Nancy noticed an odd thing today. Everywhere we paid our bill, i.e. in a cafe, or restaurant, a bell was rung, or a whistle blown.  So I asked a server why and this is what I was told.  It is a tradition in Spain to ring a bell, or blow a whistle, when a customer tips!  That is because Europeans don't tip. The following I knew  - the price you pay VAT (Value added Tax) includes taxes and gratuities, so they don't receive tips, unless they come from North Americans. Therefore we have started tipping even more, to hear the bells and whistles!

Je fais un petit recul au Jour 16. Quand je vois un papillon qui voltige autour de moi, je me dis que c'est mon père, et je lui parle.  Juste avant d'arriver à Hornillo, j'ai eu le plus beau papillon bleu venir me rendre visite. Mais il n'etait pas seul. Il y avait une copine.  Ah, je me suis dit "Ma tante France, ma marraine! " Alors, j'ai eu une belle jasette avec elle aussi.

Bonne nuit ma belle Jessica. Gros bisous!

Avec amour et reconnaissance de Justo de la Vega, très près d'Astorga. 

Jour 22- 12 septembre: dédiée à ma chère tante Carmelle...

qui m'encourage, qui m'aime comme si j'étais une des ses enfants.  Ma tante a pris la peine de m'envoyer, par la poste, la plus belle carte me souhaitant un "Buen Camino". J'ai cette carte avec moi, dans mon sac à dos, sur mon dos, depuis Jour 1 du Camino. Je te porte dans mon coeur ma tante, et tes paroles le plus près possible de mon corps possible. 

We left our room in the Monastery late, (8:00 am) in a light drizzle. We hadn't gone very far, and we were still in the old, narrow streets of Leon, when I spotted an older gentleman hunched over, with a paint brush in one hand, and a bucket of yellow paint in the other.

Here is Baudi's story.  He is one of many thousands of volunteers who make The Camino work. I found out his story, because as we passed by, I stopped to tell him how much I appreciated what he was doing, which was repainting those blessed yellow "flechas" we see everywhere, that tell we pilgrims that we are on the right path.

Well, he dropped his bucket right there and proceeded to tell me all about the Association of these volunteers in Leon, of which he is very proud to be a part. He is responsible three times a year, for repainting the arrows in the city of Leon. Once a year, he travels 20 km east of Leon to repaint all the arrows, and 30 km west of Leon as well.

By now he has taken a shine to me, and since he can't keep painting, (a streetsweeper machine is coming behind and wiping away all his work) he takes a picture of me pretending to paint the flecha, and decides to lead us through the streets of Leon, via a shortcut, to get back on the Camino out of town.

What a character!  He knows a lot about Canada because he loves history and geography, so he starts to recite all the provinces and their capitals, though he admitted he never could pronounce Saskatchewan!

He walks at a fast clip, and is just thoroughly entertaining and charming.  He takes pictures of us, gives us his email address typed on a small paper, tell us we are "muy agradables", tells me he would do the Camino with me anyday; kisses us and sends us on our way.  We tell him how grateful we are for his help and how wonderfully he represents his beautiful city!

By the way, Nancy and I get told that all the time, that we are "muy agradables", very nice.  Well, we ARE Canadian!

The sun comes out later in the morning, promising another good day of hiking.  We chat for a few moments with a man carrying a homemade cross, that almost looks like a ship, because it is adorned with sails, with beautiful writing and drawings.  He is carrying the cross (accompanied by his dog), to Santiago. He hopes to get there by December.  His is making some kind of political statement (elections are upcoming in Spain this fall), but his dialect is very difficult for me to understand more than that.

We arrive at Villar de Mazarife, by mid afternoon.  Nancy and I have hiked the whole day together, and it has been wonderful.  I am so proud of her, because I know she pushed through a lot of foot pain to get this day in.

Our last hour seemed to take forever, from Chozas de Abajo 
to Villar de Mazarife, and I was worried.  We met two Guardia Civil cars on this isolated path in the middle of nowhere, and then a chopper appeared and hovered in our general walking area for a long time.  At one point we could see the writing on the chopper, and it said Guardia Civil. They were obviously looking for someone. Then a French woman tells us she has heard that someone has gone missing.  We think right away that some Peregrino has been abducted again,  as this is the area where the Asian American pilgrim disappeared in April.  
I ask as soon as we arrive at Tio Pepe, our albergue, and they tell me a local, elderly woman with dementia, from the pueblo, is who they are looking for.  Bad enough, but I am so thankful peregrinos are safe.

Lucy and Baerbel visited us from their Albergue; Nancy has too much sangria; our neighbour across the hall turns out to be the Czech (George) whom we helped get a room in Leon the previous night. Voilà, another interwoven thread on The Camino.

Bonne nuit chère ma tante; vaya con Dios.  Gros bisous!  Ta nièce.

Sending love and gratitude from Villar de Mazarife, Spain.

Day 21 - September 11: A MILESTONE has been reached! Je suis ravie!

This is going to be a short blog.  However, it is momentous for me, because as of today, I have hiked OVER 500 km and am more than half way to my destination, Santiago de Compostella!

We only left Sahagun at 8:00 am,  because we slept in until 7:00. Wow!  There was a glorious sunrise and the promise of another wonderful hiking day, not too hot, nor too cool. No breeze other than a diesel one, as Nancy would say, but you can't have everything.

I have a huge blister on my right heel, but my friend Lucie came and patched me up with all these newfangled European band aids, the night before, so I am all set.

Baerbel and Nancy are hiking with me; Nancy for the first time in over three days.  I am happy not to be taking care of Michel!  He and his wife Marie-Lynn have gone on ahead.  

We stop and have a wonderful breakfast of bacon and eggs in Mansilla of Something.  Our first bacon and eggs in this country. Yummy!

Baerbel, our German friend from Day 1, whom Nancy has succeeded in reconnecting with through email, and she of "hoping for a miracle" mention in my blog, still isn't feeling well, and Nancy either, so they decide to take a bus into Leon, after hiking six km.  They leave me at Villamoras.

I continue to hike another 18 km into the city of Leon, by myself.  I have no problem with that; I am on a path right by the motorway, and althought there is no shade and it is warm, I just keep going by myself.

Most Peregrinos completely skip the Meseta between the cities of Burgos and Leon, but not THIS Peregrina. I only see one other peregrina, a  German lady who speaks no English.  I enter the industrial area, then the suburbs, stopping only in the shade of a big Mazada dealership, to take a litttle break, attend to my feet and drink some water.

Once I enter the city limits, I see a  young Brazilian named Joel, across the street.  He is my first real Peregrino, so I yell 

out to him. I recognize him as having been at the same two Albergues as us the last two nights.  He is a sweet 31 year old who is 8 days older than my daughter.  His feet are killing him.  It  took us a further hour to arrive at the Monastery. Nancy has booked us into the hotel part of the Monastery, which means our own room and no dormitory. Alleluia!

I have a great lunch of mussels and sangria,  rest, blog, and go out for a late supper in the older town of  Leon, which is gorgeous and so bustling on a Friday night.  Joan, a six foot three inch. American from San Francisco, shows us around, after a wonderful supper near the Cathedral. We help a Czech get into the Albergue attached to our hotel, before it closes at 10:00. We rush through the streets of Leon. His name is George and he is ever so grateful for our help.  A wonderful end to a magical evening, topped off with a FaceTime audio chat with my own Joëlle. 

A few things I know for sure:

My left side is more tanned than my right, because of walking west.

My moustache is back, (sun and age spots above my upper lip!) Merde!!  This is a personal blog remember, so if you don't like this personal womanly stuff, lo siento!

Buenas noches Janelle! Buena suerte en la universidad!

Con amor y agradecimientos de Leon, Espana.