Walking to pilgrimage

I have always enjoyed walking - especially repetitive long-distance walking. I became interested in the Camino de Santiago some 12 years ago. I read some articles on the Camino, there was a documentary on television that excited me, and I met two pilgrims who had recently returned from Santiago de Compostela, Spain who spoke about their experiences. My wife and I became members of the Confraternity of St James and attended an open day and listened and learned from knowledgeable speakers and mingled with experienced and budding pilgrims. We decided to become pilgrims and pored over maps of France and Spain and chose Le Puy-en-Velay, France as our starting point. We negotiated some extended leave, purchased our back-packing kits and guidebooks, and made our way to Le Puy-en-Velay. We attended Holy Mass in the cathedral, and the kindly bishop sent us on our way with his blessing and gifts. That was a memorable moment.

2000, The cathedral of Le Puy-en-Velay, France to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela to finish at the Faro de Finisterre. The route GR65 (Grande Randonee) passed through Conques, Figeac, Cahors and Moissac before reaching St Jean-Pied-de-Port in the foothills of the Pyrenees, and in Spain through Roncesvalles, Pamplona, Puente la Reina, Estella, Logroño, Burgos, León, Astorga, Ponferrada and Sarria before it reached the “City of the Apostle”.

2002, Winchester cathedral, Hampshire, England to Le Mont Saint-Michel, Normandy, France. The route passed through Portsmouth and by ferry to Cherbourg, Barfleur, the Normandy coast, to Saint-Mere-Egise, and Genets on the north shore of the bay that was crossed with a guide to the iconic Le Mont Saint-Michel.

Notes
In the Middle Ages Barfleur was one of the chief ports of embarkation for England.
1066 - A large medallion fixed to a rock in the harbour marks the Norman departure from Barfleur before the Battle of Hastings.
1120 - The White Ship, carrying Prince William, only legitimate son of Henry I of England, went down outside the harbour.
1194 - Richard I of England departed from Barfleur on return to England following his captivity by Henry VI, Holy Roman Emperor.
6 June 1944 - Normandy Landings

2005, Saint Cuthbert's Way from Melrose Abbey to Lindisfarne (Holy Island) off the coast of Northumberland.

2007, Camino Portugués from the cathedral of Porto, Portugal to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.

2008, Le via Francigena to Rome, Italy. I began from my home in north London and walked to Trafalgar Square to link with St Martin-in-the-Fields’ annual pilgrimage to Canterbury cathedral and continued to Dover and by ferry to Calais - crossed France, Switzerland (followed the north shore of Lac Léman) to arrive at the Great Saint Bernard pass and crossed into Italy and continued through Aosta to Rome to finish at the Basilica of St Peter.

8 April 2010, Cami de Llevant runs from the cathedral of Valencia via Albacete, Toledo, Avila, Toro, Zamora, Ourense to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela to finish at the Faro de Finisterre, once again.

My potential to enjoy the gifts of life in Australia

I'm an emigrant! My family: mum, dad, and five kids emigrated to Australia in 1954. Of course, I also emigrated to the United Kingdom, and once again to Australia in 2008.

After a long spell in the United Kingdom, I found it hard to settle, adjust, and adapt to living in Australia, and that was a letdown, and a matter of some concern. Should I return to London? However, my journey on the Cami de Llevant changed that. I returned home ready to put-down some roots, and integrate as best I can. I'm slowly finding like-minded people, and my potential to enjoy the gifts of life in Australia and that of a loving relationship. That has not changed my love for London and its amazing people. Not at all!

Spain's Catalonia region voted to formally ban bullfighting.

A victory for animal welfare activists - Spain's Catalonia region on Wednesday 28 July 2010 voted to formally ban bullfighting with affect from 1 January 2012. This follows the lead of the Canary Islands that made bullfighting illegal in 1991.

What is it that binds pilgrims together on the Camino de Santiago?

The Camino de Santiago is a community of spirit among pilgrims, a peace brought by the simplicity of that life, and a common goal, that binds us together. The Camino, with its winding roads and footpaths, offers respite from the business of modern existence. It provides an opportunity to reappraise our direction, and helps us shift to a more evolved state.

The Camino allows time away from the familiar and habitual so that new insights can be revealed. A wider perspective opens up, where we begin to realise who we are and what we came here to do. Each day is lived in the simplicity of the Way where we travel at a more natural pace. This allows time to witness the rising sun, the landscape that surrounds us with its array of fauna and flora. We proceed towards the welcome that awaits us at the day’s end where the hospitalero (a term from which we get the word hospitality) of the next albergue greets us.

Mindful walking is a form of meditation that reminds us of the divinity within ourselves and all life. The passing landscape of Spain reminds us of that spirituality that connects us, irrespective of our differing religions and philosophies. We find ourselves in the company of like-minded community of nomadic people. The Camino de Santiago transcends our differences to unite us in an eclectic bond of openness and shared values.

Many pilgrims’ stories contain a hint of letdown or anticlimactic feelings at the end of the journey. It’s hard to return home without being a changed person. You return to your “regular life”, and struggle to re-integrate into your previous daily routine. Some manage to after a short while, whilst others make radical and drastic life changes. The Camino de Santiago redefines ourselves by pushing our limits, challenging our beliefs, and learning about ourselves.

La Mancha

The peerless Camino passes through La Mancha - a vast elevated plateau of Spain. I read that it is variously arid and fertile. However, during the course of our journey it was wet and in places almost impassable due to flooding.

And, yes we did pass by the very windmills made famous by Miguel Cervantes' Don Quixote de La Mancha, and I did very much enjoy the many sculptural representations of the chivalrous, romantic hero and his squire Sancho Panzo and beloved Dulcinea.

Placido Domingo's singing Don Quixote continues to ring in my ears:

Hear me now
Oh thou bleak and unbearable world,
Thou art base and debauched as can be;
And a knight with his banners all bravely unfurled
Now hurls down his gauntlet to thee!
I am I, Don Quixote,
The Lord of La Mancha,
My destiny calls and I go,
And the wild winds of fortune
Will carry me onward,
Oh whithersoever they blow.
Whithersoever they blow,
Onward to glory I go!

Galicia, Spain

We were in Galicia and walking through a terrain of mountains, lonely gravel footpaths, lakes, teeny railway lines and tunnels in the far distance, abandoned villages, grazing horses and cows, and lush flora of all possible shades of green. Splendid. I asked my Spanish companion for the name of this national park. He replied that we were in Galicia. I said, 'I know that, but what is the name of this national park?' He said that it did not have national park status. It's my view that if ever a region deserves national park status it is that pristine and stunning region of Galicia through which the peerless Camino passes. If you the reader should ever choose to walk this route you're in for a treat.

How would pilgrims with special dietary needs fare on the Camino

I have previously written about my life as a committed vegetarian, and the difficulties I encountered on the Camino in Spain as a solo pilgrim surrounded by unremitting carnivores - difficulties that at times drove me to despair. That started me thinking about people with special dietary requirements (e.g., gluten, egg, wheat free diets),  and those with religious dietary requirements, and how they would fare on pilgrimage in Spain. I don't have an answer or a solution. Except, that groups of people with special dietary needs would fare better than if alone. Spanish society is too traditional to cater for such people, particularly if alone, of that I'm certain, and that's unfortunate. Not even in the cities. That's my experience, and I stand to be corrected, as always.

Accessing accommodation on the Camino

A passport or similar document and the credential duly stamped is mandatory to access municipal, religious, private accommodation on the Camino. Municipal accommodation involved Policia Local or Ayuntamiento personnel or both in some instances to gain access to albergues and sport facilities and such like (but not in Galicia).

I recall my first day from Valencia to Algemesi which was a distance 38.0-km, and maybe much more. It was late when I arrived in Algemesi; I was exhausted and went around in circles to find the albergue to be told to register with the Policia Local. My passport was photocopied, I completed an extensive document, and the police officer at the front desk all along appeared to be making criminal types of enquiries about me by telephone. That was daunting. I was escorted back to the albergue by two police officers. All the while, I was dealing with my tiredness, hunger, and dehydration. I remember that episode clearly. That incident tested my resolve, patience, commitment.

Leave your prepaid or plan mobile 'phone at home and buy a cheap one for use in Spain

I carried a prepaid mobile 'phone from Australia for use in the United Kingdom and Spain. However, I quickly discovered that prepaid 'phones don't work abroad, and that was a nuisance, to state the obvious. One of my first tasks in Valencia was to buy a prepaid mobile 'phone. I turned to Vodafone and the staff were terrific and they sold me a LG for €20.00 and did all the online registration which took some time to complete against a backdrop of  twitchy customers waiting to be served.

Take my advise, leave your prepaid or plan mobile 'phone at home and buy a cheap one for use in Spain. You will need to produce your passport for the registration process. There are ample places to top up on the Camino.

Church spires

My first day began from the Cathedral of Valencia, and I quickly and surprisingly discovered that the route, in fact, led from church to church, just as a caravan route leads from oasis to oasis. That feature of the route was not pointed out to me by the meeting of the  Asociación Amigos Camino de Santigo Comunidad Valenciana (and should have been), and that morning was my introduction to the guidebook and collection of maps having purchased them the previous evening. The churches and their spires on that early first stage were well within my line of sight as I went along and they helped with navigating around all kinds of construction obstacles blocking my progress. I'm certain that the task would have been more difficult without church spires as navigation aids. Churches and their spires remained an important navigation feature and aid throughout this rather tough pilgrimage.

Church spires, of course, were not always within my immediate line of sight as usually they were spaced far apart but they always were a most welcoming sight indicating that the day's destination was almost within reach. However, there were times, when I was weary, when the church appeared unreachable, and appeared to resist me reaching it. Of course, churches were the marker for the location of the Plaza Major: bars, municipal offices, police, accommodation, information, and such like. Churches proved a useful reference (if the name was known or that of the place) to quote when asking for information or requesting confirmation for being on track. That was equally important as a psychological boost particularly when doubt was starting to creep in. Praise for the builders of Spain’s churches!

People I met on the camino

It was early Sunday morning: dark, cold, wet, drizzly, and there was not an open bar to be found. Yet we were in good spirit but yearning for breakfast. Gerrit began by insisting that there were two route possibilities. He studied his guidebook endlessly and obsessively. A cursory glance at my reference did not support his conjecture. Yet, he was unable to drop the idea, and all the while we followed way marks that indicated otherwise. A shepherd offered us temporary shelter from the elements and furthermore confirmed that we were on the right track. Yet Gerrit maintained his two route position: that we were not on the 'true' camino, and that had a wearing effect on my patience.

Gerrit told me that he had completed the Via de La Plata in 2009, and had carried president Barack Hussein Obama II's photograph on that journey. It was a 'please get me out of here' moment. Gerrit was a man of 59 years who stated that Obama would solve all the world's 'problems'. (The 'problems' were never defined or elaborated on despite my best efforts for his clarification.) How could an educated, professionally trained architect carry a photograph of Obama and believe such utter nonsense that could only end in bitter disappointment, denial or whatever. I viewed Gerrit as a total nutter, and decided that our camino relationship would best be truncated in the interest of my well-being, and ultimately lasted some 4 weeks.

I recall two particular elections that ended in bitter disappointment following brief moments of joyful elation: the 1972 election that ended 23 years of conservative government in Australia. The incompetent Labour government of Gough Whitlam was eager to make long-planned reforms, although it struggled against a lack of experience in its cabinet of silly tossers; and the United Kingdom election of 1997. The Labour Party, under Tony Blair's leadership, won with 418 seats, the most the party has ever held.

Australia has a compulsory voting system. I do not intend to cast a vote on 21 August 2010. I have two options: not attend the polling place and incur a fine; or attend the polling place and spoil my ballot papers to avoid a fine. I will probably choose the latter option.

Celebrating my birthday on the Camino during holy year

Although, I remain uncertain of the point for doing so, I nevertheless celebrated my 67th birthday on the Camino during holy year. It was, in no small way, a celebration for having made it so far because of my resilience or what ever that allows me to continue forward however temporarily or briefly that may be. And, to proclaim my potential to further enjoy the gifts of life such as another loving relationship, in particular. I have no delusions of immortality  - none at all, and I'm acutely aware of the meaninglessness and arbitrariness of a cold, impersonal, and often hostile universe that remains beyond my understanding.

May I offer love, knowing that I cannot control the course of life, suffering, or death and be open to the true nature of life.

Walking alone or with a companion(s)

When on pilgrimage or a long-distance walk, I enjoy walking with a companion(s) but often need space to walk alone with my own thoughts and unfettered from the demands and needs and wishes of others, and my preference is to walk intermittently on my own.  I enjoy my own company and also the company of others and joyful repartee - very much so. I view walking as meditation - walking Zen; step by step I make my way through blue sky temples and white  cloud monasteries. Pilgrimages are among the most demanding, and therefore most rewarding, of all religious disciplines.

I've been searching for over a year for some companions to form a small group to walk from Rome, Italy to Jerusalem, Israel. However, no one has come forward and it's my intention to nevertheless set-off next year, regardless. I'm concerned that if I wait too much longer I may not be able undertake such a journey as I will celebrate my 68th birthday next year. I'm realistic; nevertheless, I would prefer to walk with companions. So be it.

It's not easy following a vegetarian lifestyle

I'm a vegetarian and have been for most of my life. I was a problem child for my sweet mother as I constantly rejected her meat and fish meals. She never understood my needs, and, of course, during the war and immediate post war years there was little choice if any, and we were poor, and that situation also shaped my mum's meals.  Thus from an early age, I rejected meat and fish as repulsive. I have no explanation for that other than that I viewed the killing of animals as abhorrent and that remains my view to this day. Or possibly, there is a physiological explanation as I later discovered in Peter J. D'Adamo's book 'Eat right for your type'.

I recall an invitation by a cousin to visit and stay with them in the Netherlands. I gladly accepted the invitation, and made my position clear to them (which is my normal approach to avoid any difficulties) - please do not serve me meat or fish - I don't eat meat or fish - not at all - not any time - never. I was collected at the railway station and shown to my room. That evening we gathered for a meal, and I discovered that my words were completely and utterly ignored, and wasted on my hosts. I protested to my hostess. She exclaimed that when you are in our house you will do as we do - we eat meat and fish. I got up from the table and went upstairs, gathered my belongings together and left, and returned to London. I later discussed this with other family and non-family people, and I'm convinced that those people are an aberration as most Dutch people are reasonable and accommodating and would respect my dietary wishes.

Similarly, during the course of my recent pilgrimage, there were some pilgrims who often encouraged me to eat dishes that clearly and obviously were meat or fish based. I'm not sure to this day if their motives were pure and that they were interested and concerned in my well-being or if it was an attempt to subvert me or perhaps relieve their own discomfort. I don't know! I do know that it's not easy following a vegetarian lifestyle.

A wrong turn

We were in a hurry, Gerrit especially as he was desperate for a caffeine fix. When we arrived in the village nothing seemed to fit with Gerrit's guidebook. We asked where the bars were and the way to reach the next village on our route - but were unable to reconcile their answers with our guidebooks. Communication difficulties were not new to us but this was somewhat different. Of course, we then began to blame them for their lack of knowledge. Finally, after going about in circles we discovered a bar in a cluster of terrace houses, and there was nothing to indicate that it was there. Our host was a friendly man and when we laid out our maps in front of him we realised our error - we had somehow strayed from the camino  - we were in a village not on the pilgrim route. It became clear that these people were unaccustomed to having pilgrims asking tricky questions. Of course, it would have paid dividends had we asked for the name of the village, in the first place, and that was a powerful lesson that I frequently applied in practice. Anyhow, with some help we figured a revised route to get us back on track.

Our revised route involved negotiating a tricky section of motorway to return to the camino, and all was well again. When we arrived at the village a wedding celebration was in train and that involved deafening explosions of a magnitude that would make any military proud. The people were out and about in their fineries and the men, women, and children looked spectacular. We found a cosy bar and our hostess prepared a fabulous meal for us. The ambience was pleasant and welcoming.

Vote to ban bullfighting in Catalonia, Spain

After a campaign by the Catalonian public, the regional parliament will vote on 28 July 2010 to decide a bullfighting ban. We want every Catalonian Member of Parliament to know that there are many people around the world who oppose this cruel 'sport'.

This is a historic moment, please sign this petition, before 28 July 2010, to ban bullfighting in Catalonia, Spain.

My visit to Toledo

We were in Toledo (having arrived the previous evening), and it was on Saturday 24 April 2010. The day began with a breakfast of coffee, thick hot chocolate, and churros (fried-dough pastry-based snacks ideal for dunking and delicious). The bar was in a popular part of the city frequented by bleary-eyed people on their way home, and lots of taxi drivers. That was followed by Holy Mass in the spectacular cathedral and a tour that was outside of the official visiting times, and clearly frowned upon by the officials who became increasingly and obviously twitchy. Next came a bus tour of that spectacular and historical city, and that was a great opportunity to take some splendid photographs.

Around mid-afternoon, we stopped for lunch at a doner cafe and when I reached for my purse to pay the bill it was missing. I have no idea how that came about. (My purse contained a small amount of cash, debit and credit cards, YHA card, and my house key.) I remained calm and decided a course of action:

1. Retrace my footsteps from our hotel to search for my purse but that was to no avail.
2. Report this matter to my bank to cancel and replace the cards but retain the personal identity number. However, the replacement cards would be sent to my home address in Australia. Fortunately, my prepaid mobile 'phone had sufficient credit for the rather lengthy call to the United Kingdom to sort this matter. (I kept my fingers crossed.)
3. Report this matter to the Spanish police. I headed to the nearest Polica Locale to be told that this was a matter for the Policia Nacional. Gerrit and I set-off on a walk that took some 45-minutes, maybe more as it was some distance. I was well received and despite some language difficulties managed to make a statement.

I hoped that my purse would have been found and handed to the competent authorities and that my mobile 'phone would alert me to that but it never did. I did not hear anything more about this matter, and no longer expect any further developments.

We returned to our hotel by bus. My situation was not grave (although it could have been) as I had also packed a credit card from my Australian bank well hidden in my rucksack as well as a stash of some cash.

I need my comfort

Every now and then, I will speak of my pilgrimage experiences. And, some are impressed and spellbound, and others will quickly and predictably state that such journeys are beyond them and that they need their "comfort". A little probing will reveal that a major concern is with bed hygiene. They focus on dormitory accommodation and that beds are occupied 365 days per year by a different person: young or old, male or female, unwell or well, white or black or some other shade, and that causes repulsive shudders to reverberate. However, when I stop to ask how that is different for hotel accommodation. Some are visibly shocked when they realise that the realm of starched sheets and fluffy towels hides the reality of bed occupation by total strangers from all walks of life and with all kinds of potential infectious risks. Both situations are liable to health risks. This was minimised on the camino by the issuing of packaged bedding: single use sheets and pillowcase that are binned and properly disposed off on departure. And that's an excellent remedy.

All is well following my fall

Today, I awoke to a frosty morning and clear blue sky – a pleasure to behold. It was one of those great to be alive mornings. I set-off on a walk, and after about a hour, I became aware of a regained freedom of movement that was pain free, and wonderful. I extended my walk to 4 hours and arrived home feeling at ease, and ready to take on another project.

It was Sunday 23 May 2010 and the final day of my 1,290-km journey. I was within sight of Cee (a stunning town on the Atlantic Ocean) and descending a rather steep hill with a tricky loose slippery surface and deep ruts caused by erosion. I had my camera ready to take some snaps of Cee but my view was obstructed by trees and scrubs - I turned to the right to face a gap and my feet shot out from under me, and I landed with a thud - awkwardly, and strained the muscles and ligaments of my upper left leg to the knee and beyond and somewhat less the right one, and damaged my camera in the bargain. The pain was excruciating. Of course, at this point, I only had some 20-km to complete my coast to coast journey and the affects of the fall could not stop that. I hobbled into Cee with my wonderful Spaniard companion and stopped at a bar for some food and drink and swallowed some Ibuprofen capsules to ease the pain.

Within two days, my upper left leg took on the full spectrum of the colours of the rainbow, and the need for rest was indicated. I heeded that advise and avoided strenuous walking and also sitting meditation. However, after some three weeks my leg had not healed and sitting meditation was out of the question. Anyhow, I persevered with a much reduced walk and meditation programme - until this morning. All is well!

Guidebook and maps from the Asociación Amigos Camino de Santigo Comunidad Valenciana

I carried the excellent guidebook and maps from the Asociación Amigos Camino de Santigo Comunidad Valenciana. The kit is available in Spanish and English, and screams out for some comments. It is unnecessarily bulky as many if not most maps are duplicated, and I had cause on only a few occasions to refer to the separate collection of maps. There is no reason why the full compliment of maps could not appear in the guidebook as most are already in there.

Accommodation information is slim and needs updating. This comment is based on my own experiences and information in other recently published guidebooks.

Distances are not based on town to town centres as is normal convention; rather they are measured from town to town perimeters. (I stand to be corrected.) For example,  the Cebreros - Ávila leg is listed as 37.2-km, and that is a gross underestimate of the overall journey’s length. That was, without doubt, the toughest leg of the entire pilgrimage and involved strenuous ups and downs in addition to the long overall distance. From the edge of Ávila it took more than one hour to reach our albergue, and I recall arriving there utterly and totally exhausted. To avoid any misunderstanding, I recommend that future guide books review the distances published, or at least makes the basis of measurement clear to the reader. That is necessary to plan each day’s journey.

Nowhere to hide

Some years ago, I was member of a cult: the  Miracle of Love. It was there that I discovered the intensity of emotions when there is absolutely nowhere to hide. You're on show, exposed, naked - physically and psychologically. I had a similar  experience on the Camino - not as intense - yet, at day's end - I often felt vulnerable, exposed, and ill at ease in the company of fellow pilgrims. I remain perplexed by the arising and fading of these emotions  over which I have little if any control. I began to feel comfortable and at ease only after adjusting and adapting to that ever changing companionship landscape.