Butterflies and Blisters

Hontanas/Castrojeriz/Itero de la Vega

Sept 18 21 km

Our day started in a beautiful way, walking in the dark with other pilgrims. The rains had stopped and most of The Way was without muddy bogs. All along El Camino were the beginnings of a beautiful sunrise. 

As we moved along, we encountered some amazing mushrooms beside the road, blue butterflies and a developing blister.

We passed the ancient Convento de Santa Clara in San Anton and, as we walked into Castrojeriz for some coffee and breakfast, John told me he had a blister forming. It was on the opposite side from his sore Achilles' tendon, so I suspect he was favoring his good foot. Voila, a blister. Some coffee, tortilla and a Compeed patch on the blister, we moved on. 

A few more kilometers down the road, we had the 1050 meter climb, at a challenging 12% grade, up Alto Mostelares. After pausing to listen to a woman who was playing her guitar and singing by a bridge, we attacked the mountain. Rather I attacked and John struggled. Once at the top, John applied a Compeed patch to a fellow pilgrim who was suffering from a blister. Then there was the walk back down. By the time we were back to flat land, John had a blister on his other foot. He is blaming the inserts and, unfortunately, he left the Keen provided inserts at our last albergue. And we had about 4 more, painful, kilometers to go to Itero de la Vega and our albergue.

Mister Blister, preparing to head back down the the mountain. 

Much of El Camino today was on farm roads, meaning we had to clear the way for the tractors who take up most of the space. I can't imagine what it is like, always seeing pilgrims wandering on their way to Santiago. Is it similar to always seeing the tourists at home? We passed harvested wheat fields, sunflowers and corn, ready for harvest and more root vegetables. Dry dry dry earth and a path that has been tread upon by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims for centuries. We got doused by some irrigation sprinklers outside Itero de la Vega. We were blessed by no sprinkles, or showers, from the sky.

On the back of a traffic sign that we passed was the following message, 'This is not Hollywood. Tourist of The Way movie, go home'. It was signed by someone from Greenland earlier this month.

John is conked out in his bed, I am at a bar eating lovely mixto ensalada and trying to translate the Spanish news on the TV. Later, when I have internet, I need to confirm what I have loosely translated, that Scotland has voted to secede from England. What a great time to be in Europe! And in Spain, the Castillians are preparing for a vote in November to secede from Spain. I am rather enjoying be disconnected from the world while on our walk. Before the afternoon news however, I was treated to music video. Good grief...it's Shania Twain in a bar in Itero de la Vega!

For the only the second time since we have begin our pilgrimage, I've done our laundry. Our albergue today is a major shift from yesterday. Santa Brigida in Hottanas was deluxe. La Mochila (the rucksack) in Itero de la Vega is available. And for only 2 Euro less! But they are the only show in town and own both bars and the only cafe that is open in the afternoon. 

The patio of our albergue has the most amazing mural. I couldn't help but think of Pele, and her path of lava heading across Hwy 130 when I saw this.

Due to the blisters and swelling Achilles' tendon, our walk will,be very short tomorrow. We had hoped to get in close to 30 km, but will probably just go to the next village, 10 km away. Such is life. Such is El Camino.

Thunderstorms in the Mesete plains

Rabe del la Calzados/Hornillos del Camino/Hontanas

Sept 17. About 20 km

The albergue across the street from us in Rabe del la Calzados does not offer breakfast, so a number of our fellow peregrinos were coming into the dining area this morning in wet rain gear. A few minutes later, after our toast, jam and coffee, we put on our shoes and checked outside for precipitation - and there was none. The shower had passed. Making sure our rain pants and jackets were at the top of our packs, we left the village at 7 AM.  After some walking we we treated to a beautiful sunrise and a rainbow. How we have been so blessed to not be caught in much rain is beyond me, but we do realize that it IS a blessing. 

Our  decision to purchase shoes has proven to be a good one. Last night I refitted my sport insoles into the Keens. While they are not as supportive, or thick soled as I'd like, they did me good today. John also. We both have sore feet, but his  Morton's neuroma and Achilles' tendon are better and my bruises are on the mend. All said, my feet hurt the way they did 7 years ago, when they caused me endless pain. I can live with this again as I'm sure the pain will subside. 

The skies over the plains stayed delightfully cloudy, giving us a day of walking in much cooler weather.

We met a couple from Victoria AU at dinner last night and we have passed each other often in the road today. She is quite slow, having had knee surgery and, two years ago being told she wouldn't ever walk more then a few meters at a time. Her dream was to walk to Santiago and she is doing it. She is a miracle. She says the pain isn't bad, as long as she goes slowly. 

And then there are a few people we meet who we wish we hadn't. Last night our 7 bed room was shared with a delightful young French woman who left her home in Northern France in late June and is walking her way to Santiago. She was great. The two French couples who were also in the room were obnoxious.   Loud and inconsiderate of anyone but themselves. As pilgrims, we all try to keep the path in the dorm rooms clear and to respect others needs for rest and fresh air. This group spread everywhere, spoke with their outdoor voices while the other three of us were trying to rest and refused to keep a window open during the night. I know I've ranted about some of the ME ME ME attitudes, but I just had to do it again. My opinion isn't universal for the French folks. I'm blessed to have many friends from France...this group was just not a good example of pilgrims. 

Around 11:30 we came into Hontanas, our resting place for today. We made much better time than we thought we would and will increase our distance tomorrow. 

Outside of the village, whose population is 70, is a tiny shrine for Saint Bridget of Sweden. Born in 1303, she had visions at a very young age and eventually founded the Bridgettines nuns and monks after the death of her husband. She is one of six patron saints of Europe. We considered this a good thing, as we had reservations for an albergue called Santa Brigeda. 

A welcoming sign for a beautiful albergue. 

After a beer at the local bar, where we also ate our bocadillo, we checked into the most beautifully restored albergues we've yet to encounter. A beautiful pilgrim kitchen and dining area, a bar and cafe and upstairs, wonderfully comfortable bunk beds. The greatest surprise was that our host showed us into a private room. We have the only one here and haven't a clue why we get it. John says it's because of his reputation for snoring!   

 Our bunks are made of pine and the steps to the top bunk are wide and comfy on my feet. 

We have a very dark afternoon, as the thunder and rain have been ruling the afternoon. It is a cool 15 degrees C, and the thunder has been rolling for a couple of hours. My prayers are for the pilgrims who are out walking in this storm. I hope they stay safe and get to their albergues soon. Yes, even the obnoxious French folks are included in this prayer. No one should have to be out in this weather. 

I am glad that John and I are not in the crowd of people who are racing the way to Santiago. We have the time to stop and enjoy the scenery while we share an apple, or visit on the road with other pilgrims who are taking a more leisurely pace. It also gives me plenty of time for reflection and prayer. 

Only ten lucky guests here in Santa Brigida got to share a Peregrino meal. We shared a table,with a German man who walked from his home, three French folks who also have walked from their homes, a woman from Victoria BC, the AU couple I mentioned earlier and a gent from Nashville. 

Dinner was a wonderful mixed salad and then a huge pan of paella. The 10 so us made short order of the salad, paella and the wine. What a treat. 

From dinner to am early bed, in preparation for a walking journey on Thursday that has some rather steep trails. 

Hope you are enjoying reading my notes about our journey. Hugs to all, especially our family and friends in Puna. 

Bells and Cereals

Burgos to Rabe del la Calzados

Sept 16. 13 km. short walk

We decided to do a short walk today to break in our shoes. Or to let the shoes break us, depending on whether you are talking to John or me. Right now, I'm not too keen on my new Keens. Tomorrow, different inserts might help. We'll just keep walking. 

We have entered the Meseta part of Spain. After Burgos, the terrain turns to rolling hills of wheat, barley, oats and other cereals. For the next 150 miles, this will be what we walk through. 

The harvested wheat fields of the Meseta region stretch on for many miles...and days. 

Bells. So many churches, so many bells.  I love the bells that have a beautiful tone and lighten my heart. We have however, encountered recorded bells here in Rabe del la Calzados. Add to this, the fact that they push out their electronic bell sounds every 15 minutes, with tunes of dinner grace and strike on the hour for every hour of the day. Thank goodness the timer on the recording is not set for military time...or we would be getting 23 electric gongs at 11 PM.

Rabe del la Calzados is a small village of 200 people. Perhaps some of the village people commute to Burgos, but it appears that the two bars are set up primarily for the pilgrims. Many of the old homes still,have solid walls, but the tile roofs have fallen in and no one bothers to fix them.

Our albergue has three rooms and each room has seven people. This albergue is run by a señora and señor, and is name Liberanos Domine.

Señora is fixing our dinner and helped me get a reservation in our next stop.

The Way keeps many of the villages we pass through solvent. Pilgrims must eat and sleep, and these villages are here. The village we plan to walk to tomorrow has a population of 70 and about 150 beds in albergues for pilgrims.

We encountered an angel today. She was at a crossroad, sitting on her bicycle, giving directions. It seems that a man in a local village altered one of the Camino signs to point to his new albergue. His detour would have added a few extra kilometers to our walk. The woman gave us the correct directions, through some highway construction, and asked if we are going to Santiago. When I replied yes, she asked that we pray for Sante Maria...then asked that we pray for everyone. I told her that I have been, and will continue to. What an angel to encounter out in the middle of nowhere. My prayers of thanks are offered daily for the kindnesses we are given so freely.

A sign in the albergue in Azofra, 'Tourists demand, Pilgrims give thanks'. This pretty much sums it up. At least for me.

..........

Yeah !!  The town of Rabe del la Calzados turns off the church bells after the 10 PM ring. It was peaceful, until 6 AM. 

Kilometer correction

Oops-I did a miscalculation on the distance we rode the bus. It was really 59 km. that translates to about 36.6 miles. And it was worth it. As much as we hated to bus the miles, our feet and bodies are happier. 

Happy feet from my bunk bed. 

 

Ventosa to Burgos with sore feet

Ventosa/Na'jera/Azofra

Sept 13. 18 km, 11.2 miles

It is the love/hate relationship I have with hiking boots that keeps me amused during parts of the day. The boots are solid, waterproof and build to take a beating. My feet have become accustomed to wearing flip-flops...slippahs. Moving from slippahs to rugged hiking boots has taken its toll. Every time we pass a mid sized town, I wonder if I should ship the boots home and get some hiking shoes. I think the worst is over, in terms of crossing mountains. But my boots are becoming broken in and provide great support.  ....'it's a thin line...between love and hate...' Sing along, if you wish. I go for the Chrisy Hynde version.

We left Ventosa when the rest of the beautiful Albergue San Saturnina was heading out, around 6:30 AM. I enjoy walking away from the albergue in the dark, quiet of the village morning. I doubt the residents appreciate the over exuberant pilgrims, as they laugh and talk loudly while heading out of the village. John and input our 'silencers' on our bastiones so we can exit without disturbing our host village. Because there were so many leaving at the same time, I was a bit grumpy and we hung back, hoping to catch my reflection time. The anti anxiety med helped. Gee, at home I would have just hit on Bud. Bud however didn't join me on this trip, as he isn't welcomed in European countries. 

We stopped in the village of Na'jera for a cup,of coffee con leche and out breakfast tortilla. As we came into the village, we learned of the tremendous fight between Roland (of Charlemagne fame) from Spain and the giant Farragut It's a tremendous tale, reminiscent of David and Goliath. There is a little hut, that served as the Moor lookout, that was one of the final places of the fight. As Farragut squished Roland with his 400 kilo body (he really was a giant), Roland was able to pull his dagger out and stab the giant, thereby freeing all of the local people.  Other legends say Roland threw a stone to slay the giant. Either way, it's just another part of this amazingly beautidul land. 

 The the guard hut. 

We continue to see miles and miles of vineyards.

This evening has gotten me riled up, as my dad would say. 

The list is long and involved. Nutshell summary:

*Pilgrims not being pilgrims - more like loud tourists. These are not people walking, trusting in The Lord. They are rushing to the next Albergue. They do not see the centuries of history. It scares me.

*Community members at home asking the board to secure their homes in the event of looting in the aftermath of the lava covering hwy 130. They forget the community is nothing but a road association. They do not seem concerned at all about the families and business that are truly going to be displaced. It seems to be ,'ME. ME. ME.'

*Lack of priests in villages, so there is no mass. Sure, I'm Lutheran, but really want to go to service and commune with God in his house.

Just now, our albergue hostess knocked on our room. There is an old woman with dementia missing. The weather is rainy and her regular care provider didn't show up today and she got confused. Now, the entire village is out looking for her. I hope they find her...the town members are very worried.

----

Th woman was found. The town rejoiced. The pilgrims smiled. All is well in Azofra. 

Azofra/Santo Domingo de la Calzada/Granon

Sept 14. 24 km. 15 miles

Deeply bruised feet for me. Morton's neuroma on John. We passed some incredible places today. Santo Domingo de la Calzada is a beautiful church village where we stopped for some salad. The common folk lore has it that a pilgrim family stayed the night there and a local girl was attracted by the son. When he spurned her advances, she put a silver chalice in his sack, then accused him of theft. The local sheriff hung him. Days later the family learned that their son was still alive, so the returned to Santo Domingo and sure enough, their son was still hanging, but very much alive. The family told the sheriff, who was eating his dinner of chicken. The sheriff said the boy was as alive as the chicken on his plate. At that moment, the cooked chicken came to life and began flapping about. The sheriff immediately cut the boy down and sent the family on their way. To this day, there are always two chickens in the church, as a reminder.

Little sites like this are all along the Camino. Crosses, stacked,rocks, rememberances. It's an amazing way. 

Finding our small Albergue outside Granon was an obstical we didn't need, all in a thunderstorms with plenty of rain. The local people said there was no Peregrino albergue outside of town. But we had reservations and a map. 2 km outside of Granon, we came upon an old, refurbished monastery. That was our place. On lovely grounds, a beautiful building has been made into a family get away-but not for pilgrims. We had reservations made by a woman at our albergue in Azofra. Evidently, the town people don't know that a select few people find out about this place. There was only one other pilgrim there. We had a BATHTUB in our room. I was into that, as soon as I cleaned it.

The bruises on the top of my feet are large, broken vessel types. The Morton's Neuroma on both of John's feet is excruciating. After some wine and sleep, we have decided its time for different shoes. To do this, we must be in a city big enough to have shoe and sporting goods stores. That will be Burgos. 62 km away on the highway. 70km away on El Camino. After soul and sole searching, we have decided to take the bus to Burgos and buy some different shoes. The love hate relationship with the boots will be over when they get put in a shipping box to be returned home.

Granon to Burgos

Sept 15. 69 km. via bus. 

We aren't happy about getting on the bus, but it is necessary. Drat. Darned body is rebelling. 

As we zip by on the highway, we see our fellow pilgrims walking. The path in the region of Castilla that we have just come into, stays near and crosses the highway many times. It's uplifting to seethe, also a by depressing. But our path is set. New shoes. To Burgos we go, via bus. 

Our landing spot for the night was the lovely hostel Las. Three beds,two pilgrims and a private bathroom. We stood amazed at the beauty of the gothic cathedral that dominates the square. Unfortunately, we arrived ten minutes late for the last tour of the day. Burgos is an ancient city, home of El Sid, who helps save Spain from the Moors, and dozens of other famous figures who helped define the history and the religion of Spain. 

We hopped onto the Hipodas free bus to the sporting good  store, Decathlon. We ended up purchasing matching Keens. After a few hours, I'm questioning the wisdom of using these shoes, but they are what I must use, as we mailed our boots back to Hawaii after getting the Keens. As I wrote, 'Pahoa, HI 96778' on the box, I wondered if the post office will be there when we return!  

I haven't a clue what the story is behind these two jolly folks, but just felt the need to give them a hug. 

We dined at Cerbeceria Morati on some amazing food. Just off of Plaza Mayor, we had an amazing salad, shrimp and calamari with a delightful sauce made from the ink. I told John it was a good thing that we didn't have the camera, or I'd made a fool of myself taking pictures of my food. And the wine went down well. Truly the best meal we've had thus far. Enough about food. We met up with pilgrims we shared a pension with in Pamplona. They are doing well, he taking the bus still and she shipping her pack daily, so she makes good time.

For tomorrow, we break in our shoes. 

Twenty One Kilometers

Viana to Lorgrono

Thursday Sept 11

13 km

After today, we will try 20 km. Our distances are dictated somewhat by the available albergues. There are stretches where there are no peregrino facilities, so we must plan accordingly. Our option for tomorrow will be another 13 km, or 20 km. Our feet are becoming accustomed to the pain, as are our hips. We are also getting into better shape, so perhaps it's just that the pain has diminished. 

Logrono marks a little over 100 miles of walking. Not bad for a couple of old haolis. We've had such short hikes the past three days, that my time of reflection while walking has disappeared. With tomorrow, I will again have time for thought.

We are currently in the que for checking into the municipal albergue.

Logrono has been a resting place for pilgrims for centuries. There are old churches, arches and fountains. Right now however, I want to get into the albergue and put my feet up.

Not for publication -originally I was not going to post this in the blog, but with a day of walking between my writing this and now, I figure I may as well bare my soul.

The lava is approaching our highway of getting into and out of Kapoho. This evening John asked me how I feel about the possibility of heading home. My heart breaks with the thoughts of not completing the Camino. But my heart is also with my family, friends and home in Kapoho.  As I prepare for bed, tears are flowing. 

Logrono to Ventosa

Sept 12. 21 km (13 miles)

Sore feet for me and John has sore hips, back and feet. We checked into a lovely albergue in Ventosa this afternoon. We made it 21 km today. We could walk so many more kilometers, if we weren't carrying our packs! Ventosa is a tiny village that we walked about 2 km out of our way to get to. But we are here with some folks we've met along the way. We are doing better than many, which surprises us both. And the showers and facilities in the albergue are delightful.

We passed through a tiny village of Navarrette today. For such a small village, we were astounded at the beautiful and ornate church. 

The Church of Santa Maria is filled with beauty. I offered a prayer of thanksgiving for our health and good fortune, for continued health and for our beloved Kapoho. John lit candles in memory of his father.

As we left the church, we filled our water bottles in the plaza fountain and took off on the road again. Our path was again filled with vineyards and olive groves. We walked along a highway for a while, so were very happy returning to a dirt way and the singing of birds. 

We made the 21 km in good shape. Our bodies are adjusting, as are our hearts, to the Way. Some Voltarin, massage and stretching are all in our daily cool down. I was gifted with a tennis ball two days ago, and am using it on my feet, back and butt. Ah...it hurts SO good. 

A lovely, small dinner of salad and paella with some local La Rioja wine made our evening complete. Tomorrow we will head out early with hopes of getting another 17 km. If there is no room in the albergues in Azotra, we will have to continue another 10 km to the next town.

Torres del Rio and 19 kilometers

Villamayor to Torres del Rio

Tues September 9

19 km

Last night we had our first pilgrims blessing at San Andres church. John and me, along with about 15 other peregrinos who attended mass, were asked to come to the alter. The priest first blessed us in Spanish, then his assistant blessed us in English.

God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea, watching over him in all his wandering, and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert. Guard these your children who, for the love of your Name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela. Be their companion on the way, their guide at the crossroads, their strength in weariness, their defense in dangers, their shelter in the path, their shade in the heat, their light in darkness, their comfort in discouragement, and the firmness of their intentions; that through your guidance, they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and, enriched with grace and virtue, may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy. 

Pilgrims Prayer

Codex Calixtinus - 12th Century

From the Credencial del Peregrino. 

Today was the farthest we have walked, 19 km.  Our backpacks slow us down.  We passed shepards with their flocks, more vineyards, ancient ruins and row upon row of olive trees. These olives are for pressing into oil. I like to think that someday, when I buy Spanish olive oil, it may have a olive or two that I've walked past.

Torres del Rio, where we rest our weary bodies tonight, is best known for its 12th century church, Iglesias de Santo Sepulcro, linked with the Knights Templar who protected pilgrims centuries ago. 

We are in Casa Mari albergue, nursing ourselves and enjoying some semi quiet time. In the communal kitchen and on the patio, we hear pilgrims chatting and laughing...and sharing the adventures of their day. 

For reasons unknown to me, my thoughts went to John's son Shawn today. His family, also. I pray they are well. Love them, miss them and would love to have a grandson hug about now.

Mind wanderings today...is anyone reading this blather? Matters not, because I'll continue writing. My memories are fresh now, so I can read back on this in a few months and remember.

Each night that we have internet, John checks the status of the lava flow, that is approaching Pahoa.  Our hearts want to be there, with our beloved friends, while Pele is advancing. Please know, all of our friends and hanai kids, you are in our prayers. Not much we can do, whether we are here or there.