Camino Entry 48

Where am I?  Crossing the bridge into Portomarín : http://goo.gl/maps/VylBd

Here's one of the pilgrim cafes that are getting more numerous as we approach Santiago de Compostela.  The infrastructure makes this such a different camino than the one in Cataluña . . .http://goo.gl/maps/zRxBh

Entry 48, January 11^th, 2012

Expenses, Day 48

Breakfast: 2.40

Coffee: 1.20

Provisions: 5.00

Cookies (yum!): 2.00

Anchovies: 2.00

Albergue (Gonzar): 5.00

Total: 17.60

Trip Total: 1077.44

About 30 kilometers today. It felt long, and the last few kilometers my right shin hurt like the left did in Puenta la Reina. If it is the same injury then I will have to let the Koreans go. The plan is 32km, 35km, 20km, but if I am injured I will not be able to keep pace.

More rolling farmland today – a mosaic of meadows and low stone walls. Galicia is more “earthy” than the other parts of Spain so far – everywhere you look it is encroaching on the trees, walls, and buildings. It is as if there is a wild green forest underground waiting to burst through, restrained only by the weight of the concrete buildings.

Galicia is wet. Descending into the valley where Portomarín is located, I encountered mist that was if anything thicker than any before. Walking through the wild forest and the mist it felt as if I was in the jungle. Dagobah, maybe.

Here's something I've been meaning to write. It's important. I've believed for a long time there is a fundamental level of isolation between people, as we can never know what is in anyone else's mind. Lately I've realized that there is a countering force as well, balancing it out. Even though we never truly know each other's minds, we are all on the same path together. We all share in the same set of experiences – the universal human condition. It's one of the four rules: no pilgrim is alone. And that's not something to sneeze at.

Rule #5 is this: Sometimes there are mountains. Discussion to follow.

Camino Entry 26

Day 26, December 20th, 2012

Expenses, Day 26:
Pastry: 2.85
Coffee: 1.10
Stamps: 16.00
Churros con chocolate: 4.00
Phone albergue: 2.00
Albergue: 6.00
Provisions + Dinner + Dessert: 11.00
Internet: 1.00
Total: 43.95
Trip Total: 595.60

It has been a slow couple of days on the camio -- 20km, 20km, and 18km today.  I didn't want to push the extra 9km to Logrono with my left shin still hurting.  It is better again today and I should be %100 tomorrow.

Tonight I am in Viana, in a beautiful old shelter with high ceilings and triple bunks.  There are two other pilgrims there that I haven't met before -- a French woman and a Spanish guy.  The Spaniard is a professional tennis player and is walking nearly 40km a day.  Did I mention that the Spanish are fantastic walkers?

I sent my habitual weekly "I'm still alive" email back home today, and while I had a minute or two I checked in on the Occupy Wall Street site.  People are still fighting the good fight!

Camino Entries 24 and 25

Day 24, December 18th, 2011

Expenses, Day 24
Provisions: 4.85
Breakfast: 1.15
Albergue Municipal Estrella: 7.00
Provisions: 4.00
Total: 17.00
Trip Total: 528.16

Day 25, December 19th, 2011

Expenses, Day 25
Fruit, Vegetables, Chocolate: 3.25
Albergue: 10.00
Café con Leche: 1.10
Dinner, Provisions: 7.14

Yesterday was a hard day for only 20 kilometers. I had been up late the night before with Jay (British pilgrim, hippie, lives in converted church, makes jewelry out of bits of meteorities, 51 years old) and Ernesto (Venezuelan, recently divorced and changed jobs, wore jeans on the camino in winter (not a good idea), 56 years old) and didn’t get enough sleep. Also, I pulled something in my left shin the day before that on the way into Puente la Reina . . . I should know better than to try 31 kilometers in the rain and slippery mud. I took a couple bad falls, any one of them could have been the one to hurt my leg . . . and so yesterday was a tough day.

Today was better. The weather was better, and so was the leg. I slept about thirteen hours straight last night, which helped my body heal a little. I think that it should be okay by tomorrow. This is proof that somebody can be dumb no matter how many kilometers they’ve walked.

I told Jay and Ernesto my story about the mountain and victory over fear, and Ernesto said something interesting. “You’ve learned something about yourself . . . you’re not afraid to die.”

Hmm. I tried that out, saying it out loud to myself while walking the next day. “I am not afraid to die.” It isn’t quite the truth; I am afraid of death, and I am in no hurry to get there. But what is true is that when it comes to something I believe in (the camino, in this case, even though I don’t know why I believe in it) I will act in the face of the fear of death. Maybe that’s the same thing.

I feel good. It feels strong and powerful to say “I am not afraid of death,” and feel some kernel of truth resonate deep in my gut.

Because the threat of death was real there for a few moments, if extremely unlikely. My survival depended on two things: my ability to keep walking, and the weather staying clear. If I had broken an ankle and it had starting raining . . . who knows when anyone else would have come along. It was so, so dumb to set out across the mountains in the middle of winter with no food! I’m not gonna do that again.

Jean-Luc has set out for Barcelona in my tracks, doing the same path that I’ve just completed in reverse. He has a tent and a kitchen; I gave him my guidebook. He is looking for peace and solitude; I think he will find the latter, at least! I hope he has better luck than I did; he is a beautiful spirit and I wish him the best. It’s too bad that I didn’t get to walk with him further.

We are definitely in Basque country now – that’s what the strange language is with all the Ks and Zs (it’s called Euskara). There is lots of “Free the Basque Country!” and “Peregrino – you are not in Spain!” graffiti. Madrid probably disagrees with that second statement.

It’s Ursula’s 70th birthday today. She’s a retired schoolteacher from Germany and speaks fluent Spanish, English, German, and is working on her Italian. This is her fourth camino – the woman can walk me into the ground. It’s all like Jay says: “Tread lightly upon the Earth.” I’ve spent the past two days walking on a hurt leg, trying to just listen to the work my feet are doing . . . not trying to control it, just listening. The more I listen, the more I “tread lightly,” and the more I find my own stride. That’s the secret, I think, not strength or fitness. Technique.