Yep! That was missing so far...
But 2 or 3 days before Santiago - depending of how much I manage to walk tomorrow - I got fleas.
Or something similar. I have been bitten or stung over my whole body yesterday afternoon until this morning, and have now many extremely itchy red patches all over the place, especially the arms, hands, neck, shoulders, legs, feet, etc...
I walked the whole day concentrating on not scratching, and my first concern when I arrived in the albergue in Melide was to make sure there was a washing machine so I could wash absolutely everything I have including the sleeping bag. And, oh joy, there was one! And even a dryer! So all of my clothing possessions passed through the whole cycle and hopefully the heat and detergent killed any animal that dared taking refuge in my stuff and use my skin as a kitchen. So now, at least psychologically, it feels better.
I have also bought an antihistamin cream and tablets, just in case, and new ear plugs in case the old ones are infested...
Ha! Interesting itchy times, but I suppose it's part of it as well, and I can show my flea scars as well as my blister scars when I come back!
Apart from that, the weather has been sunny for two days and it is a pleasure to walk, especially as it is not too hot. Perfect. Hope it holds.
Ah yeah, and I ate octopus today! It is a specialty of the area, and very tasty as well. Only a bit weird to eat the tentacles, and especially to see them cook whole in huge copper cauldrons full of water.
Time is accelerating as I reach Santiago in so few days. We'll see what the next days hold in store.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Galicia, or "I don't believe in witches but I know they exist"
I am now in Galicia since a few days. It is the last Spanish province that I will walk in, as it is the one where Santiago is.
It is a land of green hills, forests and cows, and of witches. In a German friend's travel guide, the description of Galician people touched on ambiguities such as "I don't believe in witches but I know they exist", which I find very amusing...
So far it has been raining most days, and it is rather cold. I actually bought a poncho a couple of days ago, on top of my rain jacket and rucksack protection, because I was pissed off with being all wet up to the waist. So now I can deal with the rain better, that is when I think of taking out the poncho on time...
It reminds me of Ireland a lot here. First, there is a huge Celtic influence in Galicia. Celtic symbols can be found in many places, and even the weather is similar! Which, of course, means that the landscapes are the greenest I have seen in Spain so far...
Days are not as monotonous as on the Meseta, but the path is a bit harder on the knees, with all the slopes up and down, sometimes quite steep. The good side of it is, I think less about my feet, and it turns out they feel much better than on the Meseta!
I actually enjoy walking here, in spite of the rain, on the paths in old oak woods and under pine trees. And the few times where it gets a bit warmer, the air smells nice of honeysuckle, rosemary and other wild flowers that I wouldn't be able to name, especially in English (but in French or any other language neither, to be honest).
There are two people that I keep meeting every few days, a German lady and a Dutch guy, and the three of us form a sort of little family. It is always a joy to find each other again, and a bit lonely when we let each other go. But every time we think we won't meet again, the Camino proves us wrong a few days later.
But now, I am reaching the end. Santiago is only 4 or 5 days away, and it is very strange to think about it. I am starting to understand why people do it again and again. I met some people who were walking the Camino Francés for the 4th or 5th time. I couldn't understand them...
Now I don't think I would do it, but at least I can feel what pushes them.
There is a sort of sadness in the air, maybe nostalgy already, thinking about what we have gone through, and how close we are to the end. I have the feeling that arriving in Santiago must be a climax and an anticlimax at the same time. We'll see I suppose...
The path keeps teaching to let go...
It is a land of green hills, forests and cows, and of witches. In a German friend's travel guide, the description of Galician people touched on ambiguities such as "I don't believe in witches but I know they exist", which I find very amusing...
So far it has been raining most days, and it is rather cold. I actually bought a poncho a couple of days ago, on top of my rain jacket and rucksack protection, because I was pissed off with being all wet up to the waist. So now I can deal with the rain better, that is when I think of taking out the poncho on time...
It reminds me of Ireland a lot here. First, there is a huge Celtic influence in Galicia. Celtic symbols can be found in many places, and even the weather is similar! Which, of course, means that the landscapes are the greenest I have seen in Spain so far...
Days are not as monotonous as on the Meseta, but the path is a bit harder on the knees, with all the slopes up and down, sometimes quite steep. The good side of it is, I think less about my feet, and it turns out they feel much better than on the Meseta!
I actually enjoy walking here, in spite of the rain, on the paths in old oak woods and under pine trees. And the few times where it gets a bit warmer, the air smells nice of honeysuckle, rosemary and other wild flowers that I wouldn't be able to name, especially in English (but in French or any other language neither, to be honest).
There are two people that I keep meeting every few days, a German lady and a Dutch guy, and the three of us form a sort of little family. It is always a joy to find each other again, and a bit lonely when we let each other go. But every time we think we won't meet again, the Camino proves us wrong a few days later.
But now, I am reaching the end. Santiago is only 4 or 5 days away, and it is very strange to think about it. I am starting to understand why people do it again and again. I met some people who were walking the Camino Francés for the 4th or 5th time. I couldn't understand them...
Now I don't think I would do it, but at least I can feel what pushes them.
There is a sort of sadness in the air, maybe nostalgy already, thinking about what we have gone through, and how close we are to the end. I have the feeling that arriving in Santiago must be a climax and an anticlimax at the same time. We'll see I suppose...
The path keeps teaching to let go...
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Rain, love and laughter
It feels like I haven't been on the internet forever, and yet it is only 3 days. Funny how time is all relative. At the same time I can't believe that it is already Saturday. Today is the 30th day that I am on my way.
And yesterday was exactly one moon, as I started on the last new moon.
Now I have climbed up and down the mountain I was talking about last time. The walk up was nice, the walk down beautiful but a bit tiring for the knees and thighs (I can feel it today) - we went up about 600m in 5-6 km, and down 1000m in also 5-6km.
There is something special about the mountains. It is another world up there. The villages are different, people are different, nature is different. It is hard and peaceful at the same time.
The last 2 days have been incredible.
I had a beautiful experience with rain. The day before yesterday I was walking up, until Foncebadón. And from Rabanal del Camino until Foncebadón, where it was going up the most steeply, it started raining. When I say raining, it was really pouring!! Incredible!
Within less than 10 min I was soaked. My trousers were sticking to my legs, and little by little I could feel that I was only wearing them for decency reasons, as really they didn't protect me at all anymore. And, my shoes started getting wet also. I don't know if the gore-tex suddenly had enough and gave up, or if the socks getting wet started filling the shoes with water, so that every step made a nice splashing sound. The mountain was probably beautiful, but I didn't get much of it, first because I couldn't see much past the front of my hood, and also because I had no inclination to try and do so...
Suddenly I saw a couple walking before me, maybe 20 m ahead. It reassured me, at least I wasn't the only one battling with the rain. Suddenly, as I looked up, they stopped, in the middle of the rain, and exchanged a passionate kiss that lasted at least 30 seconds.
After the original surprise, I could only smile when I passed beside them and greeted them - and realised they were a Spanish couple well into their 40s or 50s. And something shifted in me. I started to smile in the rain. I was wet anyway, so I might as well enjoy this rain that was beautiful and regenerating and freeing in a way. And I started to be thankful. Thankful that my feet were not too sore, that my jacket was completely waterproof, and that my rucksack was also protected, which meant that I would be able to change into dry clothes as soon as I arrived. And the more I was thankful, the more I smiled, the better I felt.
I even had to laugh out loud a few times.
It was just beautiful.
And yesterday was exactly one moon, as I started on the last new moon.
Now I have climbed up and down the mountain I was talking about last time. The walk up was nice, the walk down beautiful but a bit tiring for the knees and thighs (I can feel it today) - we went up about 600m in 5-6 km, and down 1000m in also 5-6km.
There is something special about the mountains. It is another world up there. The villages are different, people are different, nature is different. It is hard and peaceful at the same time.
The last 2 days have been incredible.
I had a beautiful experience with rain. The day before yesterday I was walking up, until Foncebadón. And from Rabanal del Camino until Foncebadón, where it was going up the most steeply, it started raining. When I say raining, it was really pouring!! Incredible!
Within less than 10 min I was soaked. My trousers were sticking to my legs, and little by little I could feel that I was only wearing them for decency reasons, as really they didn't protect me at all anymore. And, my shoes started getting wet also. I don't know if the gore-tex suddenly had enough and gave up, or if the socks getting wet started filling the shoes with water, so that every step made a nice splashing sound. The mountain was probably beautiful, but I didn't get much of it, first because I couldn't see much past the front of my hood, and also because I had no inclination to try and do so...
Suddenly I saw a couple walking before me, maybe 20 m ahead. It reassured me, at least I wasn't the only one battling with the rain. Suddenly, as I looked up, they stopped, in the middle of the rain, and exchanged a passionate kiss that lasted at least 30 seconds.
After the original surprise, I could only smile when I passed beside them and greeted them - and realised they were a Spanish couple well into their 40s or 50s. And something shifted in me. I started to smile in the rain. I was wet anyway, so I might as well enjoy this rain that was beautiful and regenerating and freeing in a way. And I started to be thankful. Thankful that my feet were not too sore, that my jacket was completely waterproof, and that my rucksack was also protected, which meant that I would be able to change into dry clothes as soon as I arrived. And the more I was thankful, the more I smiled, the better I felt.
I even had to laugh out loud a few times.
It was just beautiful.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Soon back to the mountain
These days I don't seem to manage to walk a lot.
Well, between 16 and 20km a day, not more.
Yesterday I was thinking of walking 30 km almost, my feet felt good in the morning and all, but when I arrived in Santibañez de Valdeiglesias, the village seduced me so much that I had to stay there. We ended up being only 4 pilgims in the albergue that night, so we had a whole room each, and a beautiful dinner with spaghettis cooked the real way by the Italian hospitalero. It was really great. And this morning the sunrise was absolutely fabulous over a landscape of hills with fields of cereal nearly ready to harvest, forests, and little rabbits who were stopping to look at me on the stony path.
I enjoyed stopping in Astorga for almost 3 hours, taking in the atmosphere or the town, visiting the cathedral and eating some of the specialties. After that I thought I would still have 10km in the legs, but my feet categorically refused to go further after 5km. So I am staying in a wonderful little albergue in Murias de Rechivaldo, in an old house typical of the area, and will attack the mountain tomorrow. Tomorrow is quite a tough day, as we go from about 900m, to 1500 in maybe 10-15km. and then we go down again even lower, in less kilometers.
I am looking forward to the climbing bit, as the flat spaces of the Meseta are not as gentle on the feet as it seems, especially with all the stones.
My feet are ok, I am dealing with the blisters, which are thankfully not too painful, and just listen to them telling me when to stop. I received today a foot massage from a German lady who is set up in the village here, and she told me at the end that basically I am not a walker, my feet are small and narrow for my height and weight, and of course I have problems. However she gave me hope that they'll get used to it after some time. :-)
Thank God!
Well, between 16 and 20km a day, not more.
Yesterday I was thinking of walking 30 km almost, my feet felt good in the morning and all, but when I arrived in Santibañez de Valdeiglesias, the village seduced me so much that I had to stay there. We ended up being only 4 pilgims in the albergue that night, so we had a whole room each, and a beautiful dinner with spaghettis cooked the real way by the Italian hospitalero. It was really great. And this morning the sunrise was absolutely fabulous over a landscape of hills with fields of cereal nearly ready to harvest, forests, and little rabbits who were stopping to look at me on the stony path.
I enjoyed stopping in Astorga for almost 3 hours, taking in the atmosphere or the town, visiting the cathedral and eating some of the specialties. After that I thought I would still have 10km in the legs, but my feet categorically refused to go further after 5km. So I am staying in a wonderful little albergue in Murias de Rechivaldo, in an old house typical of the area, and will attack the mountain tomorrow. Tomorrow is quite a tough day, as we go from about 900m, to 1500 in maybe 10-15km. and then we go down again even lower, in less kilometers.
I am looking forward to the climbing bit, as the flat spaces of the Meseta are not as gentle on the feet as it seems, especially with all the stones.
My feet are ok, I am dealing with the blisters, which are thankfully not too painful, and just listen to them telling me when to stop. I received today a foot massage from a German lady who is set up in the village here, and she told me at the end that basically I am not a walker, my feet are small and narrow for my height and weight, and of course I have problems. However she gave me hope that they'll get used to it after some time. :-)
Thank God!
Monday, June 11, 2007
25th day, and the first blisters!
I thought that, as I hadn't had blisters all this time, I was just lucky and could basically throw away my compeeds!
Wasn't I inspired to keep some...
I got my first two blisters yesterday, both together at the heel of the right foot, quite small but pretty deep and painful... And somehow my first reaction was to think "first blisters, woohoo!". Make a wish kinda state of mind...
Weird, huh!
Anyway. Yesterday I passed through León. I can't really use other words, as I literally arrived there around 10:30am, and left again around 12:15pm.
I loved it though, don't get me wrong!
As I arrived, and discovered the old part of the city, I got near the cathedral and saw a procession that was just leaving the cathedral. Little girls in white throwing flower petals, many men carrying heavy statues of the Virgin or other saints, and lots of golden religious objects that I only saw in museums or Spanish cathedrals so far and don't even have proper words to describe...
I managed to then get into the cathedral that was still full of the smell of incense, and was absolutely blown away by its power and beauty. Somehow the feeling there was much stronger for me than in the cathedral in Burgos.
Then I visited the other couple of things that one can't miss in León, and tried to find something to eat, but there was the problem: it was Sunday, before 12pm, and nothing was open. The few bars that were open would, if really pushed, serve croissants but that was about it.
With my breakfast far behind me and the 3 hours walk, I was starving...
I managed to find a nice cafeteria that made a sandwich with tortilla de patatas for me, which was the nicest thing I had ever eaten, considering the state of hunger and almost desperation I was in, and a coffee.
I then confirmed with the barman that nothing would open that day, and thought OK, I might as well go further so I don't have to get out of León in the early morning (I have noticed that it kinda depresses me to have to go through the not so nice part of a town first thing in the morning, before 7am).
So I did, and managed to get to Virgén del Camino by 2pm.
Today I did only 14km, because the only place to stop next was 12km further and my blistered feet absolutely disagreed when I tried to push further...
But I think it makes sense to let my feet and my body dictate how much I walk each day, rather than my eager head who is already planning ahead which day I might enter in Santiago...
And, by the way, I am starting to seriously consider going until Finisterra, which means not stopping in Santiago, but continuing about 90 km until the "end of the earth", i.e. the sea. I was told many times it was really worth it...
We'll see what my feet say when I get there...
Wasn't I inspired to keep some...
I got my first two blisters yesterday, both together at the heel of the right foot, quite small but pretty deep and painful... And somehow my first reaction was to think "first blisters, woohoo!". Make a wish kinda state of mind...
Weird, huh!
Anyway. Yesterday I passed through León. I can't really use other words, as I literally arrived there around 10:30am, and left again around 12:15pm.
I loved it though, don't get me wrong!
As I arrived, and discovered the old part of the city, I got near the cathedral and saw a procession that was just leaving the cathedral. Little girls in white throwing flower petals, many men carrying heavy statues of the Virgin or other saints, and lots of golden religious objects that I only saw in museums or Spanish cathedrals so far and don't even have proper words to describe...
I managed to then get into the cathedral that was still full of the smell of incense, and was absolutely blown away by its power and beauty. Somehow the feeling there was much stronger for me than in the cathedral in Burgos.
Then I visited the other couple of things that one can't miss in León, and tried to find something to eat, but there was the problem: it was Sunday, before 12pm, and nothing was open. The few bars that were open would, if really pushed, serve croissants but that was about it.
With my breakfast far behind me and the 3 hours walk, I was starving...
I managed to find a nice cafeteria that made a sandwich with tortilla de patatas for me, which was the nicest thing I had ever eaten, considering the state of hunger and almost desperation I was in, and a coffee.
I then confirmed with the barman that nothing would open that day, and thought OK, I might as well go further so I don't have to get out of León in the early morning (I have noticed that it kinda depresses me to have to go through the not so nice part of a town first thing in the morning, before 7am).
So I did, and managed to get to Virgén del Camino by 2pm.
Today I did only 14km, because the only place to stop next was 12km further and my blistered feet absolutely disagreed when I tried to push further...
But I think it makes sense to let my feet and my body dictate how much I walk each day, rather than my eager head who is already planning ahead which day I might enter in Santiago...
And, by the way, I am starting to seriously consider going until Finisterra, which means not stopping in Santiago, but continuing about 90 km until the "end of the earth", i.e. the sea. I was told many times it was really worth it...
We'll see what my feet say when I get there...
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