Amen, Amen, Amen

Villatuerta Puente to Villamayor de Monjardin

Monday, Sept 8

A brief rain shower hit during our bedtime last night in Villauerta Puente, accompanied by some rolling thunder. The hospitelier brought towels into out dormitory room to soak up the rain that came thru the roof!  

And such a roof. 

A few miles out of Villatuerta Puente, this morning, was the wine font of Irache. Too bad the cask was emptied by the pilgrims of the day before. We had enough for a couple of sips and continued on our way. 

Just a few drops, but even I wasn't ready for wine at 7:30 AM. 

Remember the movie, 'Lilies of the Field'? Sidney Poitier is somewhat of an itinerant worker who stumbles upon a convent of nuns. As it turns out the sisters need Sidney's help and he needs theirs. In one scene, he teaches the sisters a gospel song with each verse ending in, 'amen, amen, amen'. I've have ended each of my prayers with that chorus while on this pilgrimage.

I've just left the 12th century church of San Andres. In the dark of the church, kneeling, I offered some prayers of thanksgiving, pleas for forgiveness and The Lord's Prayer. And amen, amen, amen. Singing in this old church has an incredible effect. I finished my prayers and had to sing a favorite folk hymn. Even I sounded good in there.

The steeple at San Anrdres. 

The village is watched over by the ancient ruins of Castillo Estefan. I wouldn't want to be one of the slaves who had to build that monolith. 

We have slowed down today. Our walk was only 15 km and we arrived in Villamayor de Monjardin at 11:30. We ate a wonderful salad then found our albergue. We've both missed salad and this was such a treat.

The road today was mostly uphill, but not at a steep incline. But we decided to call it a day of rest, after those 15 km. John can nap, I can sing in the ancient church. Life is good.

After all of the years of foot problems I've had, I'm completely surprised everyday at how well they are holding up. After the blister adventure, the regular pains are about what I have gotten used to living with. John's back and hips continue to bother him, but he uses Voltarin daily and that seems to help. All in all, a day of easy walking was in store for us and we are enjoying this quiet village.

The Way Of The Pilgrim

I believe that the true pilgrim experience is beginning. I was humbled by Alto del Perdon outside of Cizur Menor yesterday and turned back to rest. We were denied sleep, due to partying, on the street below our room in Pamplona until 4 AM on Thursday night. We have crossed the Pyrenees and tortured our way down from them. We now share a room with 24 other pilgrims in Obanos. 

The signs we see are in two languages, Spanish and Basque. There are Basque graffiti symbols over official Spain signs. We have felt no animosity, yet it is still very obvious that the Basque feel their home land has been invaded. 

After a day of rest, we made it to the top of Alto del Perdon. The Mountain of Forgiveness. The top of the mountain has iron cut outs, commemorating pilgrims of the past. 

My John does our laundry every afternoon, affording me a time to write and reflect. I'm blessed by a guardian angel that put us together. And to have a man in my life who feels it's important that HE does the wash. The laundry is slow to dry, since the courtyard at this albergue has little sun. Tomorrow we will walk with clothes pinned to our packs so they will be dry by our next stop.

The people we took up with in the beginning have left us in the dust. Others needed to take a break and we've left them. All in all, we are at a different pace everyday and the pilgrims we dine with tonight may be far ahead of us by tomorrow...or far behind us.

Tomorrow we plan to get to Villatuerta Puerta tomorrow. We have begun calling ahead to get a bed reserved at the destination village, because there continues to be many pilgrims. Not however, like the first few days. 

Mass at 7 PM on this Saturday, Sept 6. After that, the pilgrims dinner at the local bar. Then pack for tomorrow and go to bed. Tomorrow, we start it again. On the Camino by 6:30 to beat the heat, at our albergue by 2:30. 

57 miles this far. Our pace will quicken how that we are nearing the end of the Pyrenees foothills. 

 Our way is slowed by the ancient, very rough, Roman roads. They worked for chariots and armies, but the pilgrims ankles, toes and legs suffer. This is why we make it only 10 miles, or less, per day. 

We get to see plenty of vineyards in this famous Navarra wine area. And every pilgrims dinner is complemented with plenty of wine. It helps to relax into sleep. 

St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalle and Over The Pyrenees

St Jean Pier du Port to Orisson August 31

             Leaving El Camino De Santiago Peregrino office

Fog, Hot Spots and Splendor

We discovered that the French drink their coffee from a bowl in the morning. Now that is civilized. Our first day of walking began with fellow pilgrims and a light breakfast. Once on the way, we were weaving through the fog and some beautiful scenery.

         My boots. The Way marker. Off we go. 

A steady stream of walkers, and some bicyclists, were our company. We passed a few and we were passed by many more. At the many places we stopped to catch our breath, we met others who were also panting. The path Napoleon goes from 165 meters in St Jean Pier de Port to Orisson 800 meters. This climb is accomplished in 8 km. It's steep, challenging and humbling. For those who were not lucky enough to have a reservation, their hike continued. The next Refugio is on the other side of two passes and 18 km away.

Our walking for the day was over around 11:30. We checked into the only albergue in Orisson. Honestly, Orisson is only an albergue. There is no other reason for this place other than serving the pilgrims. John and I were lucky enough to learn at the French tourism board yesterday, in St Jean Pied du Port, that the refugio in Orisson was book, except for some tents. We grabbed a tent. Initially, we were a bit disappointed but after setting up,were very pleased. We had been treated to a night alone, with no other pilgrims around us. 

The assent to Orisson left my feet tender. The boots are not broken in enough. I realized that almost all of our walking was on flat land. With these mountains, I am using my feet in a completely different way and blisters formed on each heal. We treated them with a Teflon type spray, but it was too late. The forming blisters, along with sore hamstrings, marked our day of of only 8 km, but a steep 635 meter climb.

The fog cleared enough for the pilgrims to see the view from our perch on the side of a mountain. The sheep dot the mountains, as do ancient, beautiful Basque homes. 

Our dinner was consisted of soup, slices of ham and a delicious bean dish and was accompanied by plenty of water and wine. An early bedtime proved successful, as there were no dormitory noises to prevent us from just falling asleep. 

Our hope is that we continue to be blessed by no rain.

------------------------------

Orisson to Roncesvalle September 1 

We Crossed the freakin' PYRENEES !!!! On foot! With a backpack.

      Part of the level walk was still a challenge with the muddy conditions. 

We crossed over the Pyrenees today, into Spain. This was no stroll in the park. The highest pass we crossed was over 1400 meters. Nearly 5000 feet. It was usually quite foggy and visibility was nil. We could hear the livestock bells so close to is, but couldn't see more than 10 feet away. Once over the three passes, we had a steep decline to get down. As we shared the path with sheep, cows and horses, I marveled at their stamina. More than once we had to stop to let a herd cross the way.

We left Orisson at 7:30 AM, and began our daily walk. In the chill of the morning, I opted for having long johns under my shorts. Those, along with the long sleeved shirts came off in less than 1/2 kilometer. Many others were stripping down also. As we climbed higher and higher, we were rewarded with a view of the ever present fog sinking into the valleys and seeing the Pyrenees, alive with sheep and cattle. And the glorious sunshine.

Just before we crossed into Spain, at a pass, we were greeted by a wonderful Basque man, serving coffee. It was so cold and the coffee was so good. This was our opportunity to put on our coats, hats and gloves. He was a wonderful surprise as we struggled, panted, paused and began again.

I thought about, and prayed for Woody, during portions of my struggle over the Pyrenees, who turns 25 today. I have done something that makes him need to dismiss me from his life. If he thinks I may figure it out on my own, he gives me too much credit. I reach out, but don't know where he is, what he is doing or if he is well. He may have no feelings for me, but I continue to harbor the tremendous love that mothers have. I pray for his health and some form of communication. Happy birthday son, where ever you are.

     John is again in charge of filling the water bottles. This time, just over the border into Spain, at the fountain of Roland. 

A group of women is beginning to form a friendship that I am included in. For the sake of my feeble memory, I am compelled to write their names. From Canada Alayne and Chris, from NZ Min and Haley, from Norway Cecilia. John has been included as an honorary woman, I guess. He always gets along with women well, so it's a good fit. I am afraid however, that my quiet time is being compromised, so my plan for the next few days is to seek a place of solitude for reflection before dinner.

There are SO many people on the Camino. We were passed by many people today. We arrived at Roncesvalle at 2:30 and stood in a que to get our room at the albergue. Again at dinner, a long line for the pilgrims dinner. There must be a reason. I thought by September, the number of people walking would be considerably fewer.

My weakness has become my heels and dastardly blisters. This evening John purchased some Compeed, a European blister cure. I've applied it and will see how things are in a few days, when the patch is supposed to fall off.

Bayonne to St Jean Pied de Port

Bayonne to Cambo Les Baines to St Jean Pied de Port. 

Our day begins with a lazy morning. Finding the post office,we send items we no longer need back home. John purchased a phone, for emergencies. Then we had some cafe con leche and headed back to our room. 

Many of our travel clothes are left in the hotel room. Our backpacks are as light as we can get them. We are both overweight. I suspect mine is 17#. It should be no more than 14#. I will be lightening the load tonight. My soap and lotion bottles are required...but I can empty some out. Muscle and joint herbal cures and oils stay, if at all possible. 

On our walk to the station, we stop at the Bayonne Cathedral for a prayer together. We have asked Our Heavenly Father to watch over us, guide us and help us on our way. We have asked that He hold those we pray for close and help them in their life struggles. We ask for strength to be pilgrims.

Now we begin our our last leg of train and bus rides. The train is filled with backpacks and pilgrims. We have met some Aussies who are doing only bits and pieces of the way. A great many of these folks have done this before. Our Aussie friends have. For a few days, we can follow the group, to insure we get ourselves into the right places.  

.........

St Jean Pied de Port. The bus from train and bus from Bayonne was filled with backpacks. Our first stop is to register at the Pilgrim headquarters. Everyone on the bus trudged up the hill, over the ancient cobblestone, to register. A fine mist is falling, but the chatter and sharing of stories cannot be dampened. 

After we are registered, we wander around this incredible little village, seeking our first albergue. Our first choice is already full at 1:30. We next wander past a scallop shell on the side of a bar, (we would call it a cafe) and a young woman runs out to ask if we need a place to stay. She has plenty of space, dinner, breakfast and internet. Bonus-we can have a room alone. So we stay. Cite d' EtApe is a beautiful little villa and there are pilgrims starting and finishing here. A couple of Irish women are finished and flying home tomorrow, a man from Idaho is starting tomorrow with companions, and many more pilgrims we met during dinner are, getting going tomorrow or Monday.

Once we know we have a place to sleep, we do some sightseeing. Again, we visit the church here. Mighty small compared to the cathedral in Bayonne, but I can feel God's presence and feel blessed to be taking this first step. Outside of the church is the first fountain of our trip. John filled the first of many water bottles there. All along The Way, water flows from founts, making it easy to stay hydrated. 

The park is filled with Corvettes. Yes, those US muscle cars. And a few vintage Chevys and Fords. I sure wasn't expecting that. I guess men and their cars are the same all over the world. Fast, strong, loud cars!

We must leave our albergue by 8 on Sunday morning. First off, we need to post a warranty for the Euro phone John purchased today. After that, we head to Orrison, where the albergue is full, but they have platform tents with bunk beds we can sleep in. Most people head to Roncesvalle, but this seems to be a crowd of pilgrims who are over 55 and recognize that the journey is not a race. Our walk tomorrow will be about 3-4 hours, with an elevation gain of about 3500 feet. I think we will be very happy that we have our down sleeping bags tomorrow.

Later in the evening, we became amazed that there are so many pilgrims starting tomorrow that the albergue a in town are full. This surprises us, as we thought most of the walkers would be back at work and school. Retirees are making the season shift and keeping the albergues full. We are also watching the weather closely. The fog never lifted in the Pyrenees today. We hope to hike over them, but if necessary, we will walk around them. I've no desire to get lost in those foggy mountains. The decision will be made tomorrow. 

For tonight, a glass of vino blanc with a wonderful meal, engaging conversation and a warm feeling of concern for people I've never met and may, or may not, ever see again. The spirit of The Way is alive and thriving in St Jean Pied d Port. 

Buen Camino

Boyonne is a Jewel

Much like a speed limit, the Paris bus schedules are a suggestion. We arrive 10 early for our bus, it arrives 20 minutes late. In the meantime, I can only hope we make our 8:15 AM train to Bayonne. EuroRail is notorious for running on time, however we are in luck this morning. The Bordeaux St Jean train is also running late. So we continue our journey to the next phase. Smaller, slower and quieter times are ahead. 

.......

As we approach Bordeaux St Jean, my John says, 'wow, all of those grapes,'. To which I reply, 'duh, Bordeaux'. The train station is beautiful and filled with people heading somewhere. Punatic sorts, complete with their hula hoops, very French women and their splendid ways, families finishing holiday. We ate our packed lunch in the square, and headed to our next connection. Bayonne.

.......

If I didn't know that Notre Dame is in Paris, I could have been convinced it's in Bayonne.

We were privileged to discover the Bayonne Cathedral, an incredible Gothic designed cathedral that replaced Romanesque cathedrals that burned in 1258 and 1310. The town has been under the control of the Romans, English, Spain and finally the French. But it is thoroughly Basque. This is an area I could return to. Small town feel and the ambiance is delightful. But we walk.

We had our Credencial del Peregrino stamped for the first time today at the Bayonne Cathedral (Cathédrale Sainte-Marie de Bayonne) as it is on the pilgrim path.

.....

We dined at XTOTX, a Basque bar that had overflowed to the sidewalk. Blood sausage, mussels, calamarie and other tapas filled our bellies. It's just a damned good thing we start walking on Sunday, as the food in the past week has filled us just a bit too much. 

.....

Back in our room, we've reduced the packs, yet again. It won't be the last time. I suspect we will get a better feel for what we can, and cannot, live without in a few days.

Tomorrow, St Jean Pied de Port and our first albergue.

.......

Bon Jour Roissy en France

The first time is the outskirts of Paris and I am awake at 4 AM. What's with that? Call it jet lag, if you wish. I call it normal. I'm often awake at 4 AM at home. Am I used to the time zone so quickly? Does this mean I'm built for travel??? My sleep pattern may adjust, but my stomach isn't. I seem to be hungry, all of the time. 

Our 14 hour layover in Mexico City, with precious little sleep in the flight there or for the nights before,was rewarded with over 5 hours of sleep in route to Paris. At our hotel in Roissy en France, we had the pleasure of a shower and some reorganization. After our luggage missteps in Mexico, we were thrilled to see both suitcases on the luggage carousel at Charles de Gaulle airport and overjoyed that everything was intact.

In the evening, showered and bundled up, we strolled away from the pig smell into the small, ancient town. The center of town is Eglise St Elois, a beautiful cathedral built completed in 1597. We enjoyed the gardens of the cathedral, the handsome homes and watching the people. My mastery of the language is leftover from the days my work took me to Montreal. Essentially, I can be polite in French and, thankfully, none of my Montreal associates taught me to swear. 

Dinner was delightful at La Brasserie de Terroir, right around the corner from our hotel. How can pâté melt in my mouth? It was delightful. Charcuterie is an art form here, (perhaps due to the close proximity of the pigs??) so we were compelled to enjoy a plate filled with the local sausage. But for heaven's sake-why would anyone have a pig farm SO close hotels? Which came first-the pigs or the hotels?

What were my lessons of yesterday? Be thankful for the wine served on Air France, as it certainly helps to sleep on 10 hour flights. Use of the towel warmer in the hotel bathroom speeds the drying of our smalls. Carry a camera everywhere.

I'm thankful for this short opportunity to see the outskirts of Paris. I will return, when my agenda is for Paris and for France. But for now, my path is set to The Way. Off we go to Bayonne today. The legendary EuroRail awaits.

Aloha Kapoho

Yesterday morning I viewed our beautiful Kapoho sunrise a bit differently than normal. Knowing that this would be my last sunrise in Hawaii for a number of weeks, I spent more time than usual appreciating the colors of blue, red and orange changing as the sun made it way to my lanai. The breeze making the bamboo wind chime sway, swing and sing was tinged with the sounds of the ocean and our neighborhood duck. I love those peaceful mornings of Kapoho. 

Chasing my thoughts of yesterday, brings me to now, as I try to catch some sleep after our red eye flight to LA. It is such a joy to be with Aunt Pam and Uncle Dean for a couple of days before we travel on. They are world class travelers and enjoy telling us stories, correcting one another's forgetful moments and sharing a glass of port. I hope that John and I will be as loving, caring and entertaining in 20-some years.