Pics From Wed 4 Sept

      An old castle along the trail.

     Wild grapes along the path.

 

     Honour for the fallen along the Way.

      Pelligrinos dos.

      I'm stinking hot, need water.

      The streets of Pamplona.

       Finally, a salad. No more bread for me.

One Tough Tuesday

Tuesday 3 Sept

Music has played a huge part in my life as far back as I can remember. Grew up with a mother that liked to sing and a sister who was just enough older that she had LPs and a record player. Some people associate sights, or smell, or even a memorable meal with past events. For me, it has always been music: I remember where I was the first time I heard a song, remember the music playing during some of life's bigger events, and lyrics from songs spring to mind when things happen around me. The  Camino has been no different.

Day 1 where we walked up country roads to Refugio Orisson, Patty Griffins " I Went Up To the  Mountain" ran round and round through my head, and on day two when we hit the highlands of the Pyrenees, I sang most of the tunes from The Sound of Music. But this morning, as hundreds of Pilgrims funnelled out of Roncesvalles heading west along a narrow path, marching in unison, couldn't stop whistling the theme to "The Bridge on the River Kwai". I'm guessing it annoyed a few people but I was in the moment.

Mary Lou and I started out without breakfast, with the aid of our flashlight and the many others before and behind us, for Burguete, a small village 4 km away where rumours swirled of a great place for breakfast. And indeed it was. Many fellow pilgrims, including The Freddy Five, stopped for cafe con leche and a variety of croissant sandwiches. Unbelievable prices, with two coffees and a ham and cheese sandwich on a croissant for $ 5.50 €. Delicious.  

Once finished, off we went at a great pace. I commented to Mary Lou that " this reminds me of an old European town". She had the appropriate reply " that's likely because it is an old European town". Bazinga. We were enjoying the buildings so much, we had lost track of what we were up to, when all of a sudden I noticed that situation no pilgrim wants to see " no one in front or behind us".  Ah well, only half a km to double back doing the walk of shame in front of the locals. 

As it was early, the weather was cool, and with the flat terrain, we Company of Pilgrims were making good time. But "The Way" was just playing with us, making us think today's walk would be easy after the upward haul through the Pyrenees. Sure the end point in Zubiri was 400 m below the start, but there was no hint of the numerous steep ascents ( only to go back down ). And then there was the searing 33 degree heat. 

Along the walk we ran into a number of our Camino friends, including Trevor and Cheryl, but spent a good deal of time with Dennis and Mark, two very friendly guys from Ireland. Dennis cracked up all the Canadians (and there are a lot of us here) when he said " I haven't been to Canada yet, but I will be going in the next two years, cause since I was a young lad I've always wanted to vacation in Manitoba". Lots of open space and cattle. Nothing against Manitoba, it is a fine Province, but it doesn't come to mind as the first place someone overseas would want to visit in our spectacular country. Told Dennis that he was going to make the blog. 

Not much to say about the route, the scenery was not spectacular like the previous two days, but it was varied and we are glad that we walked that section. Our original plan was to push past Zubiri and head to Larrasoana, but with the heat and a much more difficult day than anticipated, there was no distance left to give. 

Unfortunately for us, and the dozens of pilgrims after us, there was no room left in the inn. Every alberque , hotel and private home was full. We tried them all, so after a brief respite there was no choice but to push on another 5 km. Then Karma kicked in. As we headed back out of town across the bridge, we tried to tell a few other pilgrims that everything was taken ( it takes a lot of energy tracking down a spot to stay), the gentleman in front said in Spanish that he had one more room that slept two. Karma baby, life lesson.  In trying to help someone else, we were the ones that were helped. The last two rooms in Zubiri. Dennis and Mark straggled in about an hour later and they managed to secure a spot on the floor in the gym. One with a mattress, and one just the floor.

ML commented on how important proper walking posture was in reducing soreness. And she is right. Now I just have to find that stance.

Overall, not an eventual day, and definitely the most physically and mentally demanding one so far. But tomorrow they say, is much easier on the road to Pamplona.

The Journey

Roncesvalles to Zubiri

Distance - 22 km

Grade difference - -400 m

Time - 5.5 hours

Weather - 33 and sunny

Distance remaining - 755 km

Pics From Tuesday 3 Sept

A quick four km walk to get cafe con leche and ham and cheese croissant. 

A company of pilgrims. 

The camera shot this pic of me on the way down just after tripping on a stone while taking the pic above.

Coming off the mountain to a small town.

Some more of the varied terrain we faced.

Half way through the days walk, exhausted but happy with an ice cold San Miguel. The guy to my right is Dennis from Ireland, who has always wanted to come to Canada to visit Manitoba. All the Canadians around started laughing, saying this was the first time they had heard someone from across the Atlantic say that. Apparently he thinks there is wide open space and lots of cows. I told him he was right, and to bring bug spray.

Had to switch to ball hat it was so bright.

Neat scene.

No Ordinary Monday

Monday 2 Sept

Mary Lou and my daughter Jennifer embarked on a trip to Manchu Pichu in 2011. She is no stranger to climbing. " There is a difference between the Andes and the Pyrenees. The Andes are more majestic, much more so, but these mountains.....have a feel of their own, a feminine feel to them." She couldn't have been more right.

As agreed with our bunk mates it was lights on at 6 am. Not a problem for me as I was sitting outside on a lawn chair since 1 am. Guess my circadian rhythm had not yet adjusted. So just blogged a little, did some deep thinking and breathed the fresh mountain air. When breakfast was served at 7, we were packed and ready to go, walking today with our new friend Trevor, who hails from north of London.

Today's journey was a known unknown. Yesterday's 8 km with a 600 m rise was dwarfed by what lie ahead, 19 km and 800 m rise. Yesterday was, lets say tough. How would today be? 

It was different from the start. Straight up, yes. But there was a spring in my step. The asphalt road wound its way along the side slope of the mountain; surrounded by lush green pastures, that fed a plethora of cattle, horses and sheep. Watch your step by the way. For five km straight it was up up up, without any of the usual short respite of flat slopes. But today, not even a hint of tire weariness from the previous day. At first the reason was simple enough for me, we left early and it was cool. But as the sun rose higher, and the morning grew older, the spring was still there. It finally hit me.when my legs needed a break, I turned to look at the mountain vista surrounding us, and the tiredness left. After a few of these stops, I began to feel the energy surge through me, and I don't just mean adrenaline, I mean feel a surge of energy throughout my body. By the end of the day we would walk over twice the distance of yesterday, in only one and a half more hours. And there were some tough climbs.

The first twelve km were up, with short sections of down taking us to the highest point on the Canino. Lots to see on this stretch, stunning vistas, an old Roman garrison location overlooking  the vast valleys below, soaring eagles, livestock of all kinds, and many other pilgrims. ML spent some time walking with some young ladies from Franklin College in New Hampshire who were walking the Camino as a study term. People from all over: USA, New Zealand, Australia, Scotland, you name it. Everyone is uber friendly,and anxious to share the Camino experience with others.

About halfway up the climb ML told one of the people she was walking with that she craved a banana, as it felt like her potassium level was down. Lo and behold, abut half a km around the bend was " the last available food on the French side of the border". And yes, he sold bananas. Ask and the Canino shall give.

Once at the peak, there was about a five km section that ran through the woods along the ridge, before the steep descent to Roncesvale began. It was quite interesting, as the moment we entered the woods, my energy level dropped suddenly, and the relatively flat terrain became a struggle. Wasn't much more than a walk in the woods, though there were a few interesting things; Charlemagne's fountain, trees that looked right out of a horror movie and a sense that there had been some great battles along this route. 

After what one pilgrim called " one last peak just to test you" you stared down on the tiny village of Roncesvale. We had been walking up for the previous four and a half hours and 15.5 km, and over the next 3.5 km we needed to get back down. There are two routes: the longer one that was less steep and the original, more dangerous one, straight down through the woods. We headed straight down. Have to say, not fun. The walking sticks had to carry me all,the way, and I thank the stars that it wasn't wet. But we made it, and you literally stumble out of the bushes and right before you is the huge monastery we would be staying in. On a sad note, at the bottom of the hill  was a small monument to a female pilgrim who died on the walk in March this year. 

The Refugio's at the monastery was surprisingly modern, with electrical outlets and clusters of two bunk bed pods. Had another great " peligrino dinner", this time soup, trout and French fries ( variation on fish and chips). Into bed at 9, and as was yesterday, woke up at 1 and can't sleep. Hence an on time blog.

 Oh yes. Forgot about today's karma event. The previous night I watched five ladies trying to take group pics using  time delay on all their cameras. Well, that leads to bad pictures and that is just not right. So I went over and played photographer for them. Today on the walk down, I lost my glasses somewhere. About an hour and a half after we got here, was when I noticed, remarking to Mary Lou that it left me two pairs "cause that pair was goners".  We left the monastery to head for a drink, which took us by the end of he trail. The photo girls were just finishing as we passed, and said a quick hello, then the one from Scotland said " you didn't lose a pair of glasses did you. Found these in the woods at the top of the trail".  Hmmm.

Tomorrow am, I mean three hours from now will be hectic as this is the gathering point for all the various routes that lead to,the start of the Camino's Napoleon route. We will,be out early.

Trip tic:

Distance. 17 km

Vertical rise   800 m

Time. 5.5 hours

Weather  Sunny and hot, but a cool mountain wind

Distance left.  775km

Some Pics

OHave a pile of pics but no time yet to download to iPad. Will try and get some in tonight. You never know where the wifi will be, so the posts will be erratic.

Sunrise at the Refuge Orisson.

Starting out at Orisson.

Our friend Trevor, who hails from north of London, as he comes over the Camino's highest points

There are thousands of sheep free roaming.

The Refugee Orisson.

A bowl of coffee.

Another shot from Orison.

Mary Lou. I want you to meet a real horses ass.

Beautiful animals.

At an old garrison, there are five or six eagles that glide by the mountain slope in search of prey. Huge birds.

Has To Be More Than Coincidence

Sunday 1 Sept

There is no modesty on the Camino. There is no ego on the Camino. There is just the moment. 

I believe the next five weeks are going to remind me of just how wonderful it is to be alive; to be an individual; to be a part of something bigger than yourself. 

Day one was full of everything and nothing I expected, and things I wouldn't have believed. It started simply enough. Sleeping in after 24 hours of travel we took a taxi into town to start the walk. We knew it was up, so up we went, but before I had my bearings. Mistake. Long ago I learned to trust in others, but never go against my gut. Not really knowing where we were going, we happily followed the directions of a few people speaking different languages,  that seemed to understand where we were headed. It didn't feel right, and as I looked across the river and at the mountains in the distance I told ML" think that's where we are supposed to be".  But we carried on about a km and a half until the dead end. Back into town. Just when I said to ML, I know better than to follow someone else, two brothers from just outside of town walking the Camino for the second time passed us and said come on, it's this way. " Follow your gut, trust in others".

So the journey had officially started and  off we went. Quite a bit later than planned, but definitely the right way. Take the steepest hill in your town, then double it. For my Freddy friends, think of Regent Street, only steeper, and stretch it to 8 km, in the hot sun carrying 22 lbs on your back. Exactly what we signed up for, but, OK, not complaining, it was exactly what we signed up for. 

Here is one of today's lessons. Just because there is a turn in the road, doesn't mean that it is no longer going straight up towards the clouds. The thought process " only have to make it up this stretch and then there will be a short respite", is completely self delusional and one can only fool oneself a few dozen times. But if you put your head down and stubbornly barge on, which is the way I do things, you realize that you are missing some absolutely spectacular vistas, and more importantly, the moment. Message to Mitch. Just walk, take it all in, and get where you get when you get there. 

The Refugee Orisson sneaks up on you. Rounding the bend it looks like you have one more long climb before the walk ends for the day, then bang, there it is just around the turn. I noticed the deck first, remembering it from the pictures. A stunning view of the valley and mountain range, and a prototypical European mountain villa. The pilgrims, almost called them walkers but being a big fan of The Walking Dead, can't do that anymore, who left on time that morning were showered, had their clothes hanging and were enjoying their beer or wine. So how long would it take to get me there?

The four hour walk took its toll. I sweat, really sweat, nearly three large bottles of water. I stank, really stank, and you know it's bad when you can smell yourself. But that's being a Pilgrim. A quick check in to the room, our last reservation for the trip, and there was Mary Lou, me and four other guys in a room. Have to say ML impressed me, didn't phase her a bit, even later when all the guys were laying around in only their briefs, and I laughed myself to sleep over that later in the evening.

But here is the big OMG or WTF, depending on your thought process. Everyone eats dinner together around three separate long tables. ML suggested we sit with someone else other than our roomies, so we could meet more people. Great idea. We sat beside a younger couple from Denmark and struck up  a conversation. After a bit, a couple of ladies our age sat down beside us and asked " so where are you from". I digress a bit, usually I say where am I from or where do I live, but didn't this time and simply said Toronto. So where are you from? New Brunswick! What?... I'm from Fredericton.....so are we....there are five of us here. All of them teachers, all knew my older brother well, and one was the sister of one of my close friends, growing up in my neighbourhood......The series of events that had to happen for this to happen are mind boggling. Our new Danish friends said it had to mean something. Maybe so.  A dandy Sunday indeed.

Supper that night was spectacular, some soup, the best I ever had, even was loaded with onions and I couldn't even tell. Then sliced pork smothered with a bean dish, again delicious, and a bottomless glass of wine. I highly recommend this place to anyone walking the Camino.

Early to bed, but I woke up at 1:00, and know it will be a bit before getting back to sleep. So here I am sitting in a lawn chair outdoors in my underwear and top, writing a blog in a place with no Internet, not knowing when I will post it. Getting to say hello to everyone going to the washroom and oddly enough, it all seems quite normal to me.

Tomorrow will be another 4 hours of playing Sir Sit Edmund Hillary, then it's all downhill to Roncesvale Spain. Can't wait to cross the border and stand where the Romans did 1500 years ago. 

Pilgrimage info

Walk time - 4 hrs

Distance - 8 km

Vertical rise - 600 m

Weather- Hot hot hot

Distance left - 792 km

And We're Off

Friday 30 Aug to Sat 31 Aug

Like the title says, we're off. Friday at 3:00 pm the limo picked us up and plunked us down at Terminal 3 in front of the Air France desk. The lineups were very long, however, because I had checked us in the day before via the web, we were sent through with all the other special people:)

The first hiccup of the trip came in the form a well laid plan unravelled. I had come up with a great idea: packing our walking sticks and knives in a mini golf shoulder bag that was part of a  promotion from Balentines scotch a few years back. This would enable us to carry the backpacks without worrying about delayed or lost luggage. But alas, they were two big, leaving us with three bags to be checked. Air France was very good about it and did not charge extra.

And speaking of Air France, I was suitably impressed. Now, my longest previous flight was four and a half hours, and one can't expect the same level of service on shorter hauls, but wow, that was impressive. First off, every passenger was given a blanket, headphones, pillow and eye cover. Second, the  meal was superb, with which they served complimentary beer and wine. Had a small bottle of Merlot myself. And lastly, there was a selection of over fifty on demand movies to watch. None of this  Babe Pig in the City or Kung Fu Panda stuff you get on flights down south. My movies of choice were Django, Gangster Squad and The Two Towers making the seven hours fly right by. Overall the flight was smooth, with a few turbulent sections . We flew over Newfoundland, Greenland, Iceland, Ireland and England before touching down in a cool rainy Paris.

To get to our ultimate  destination required three train runs. 

The bad stuff first. The tickets were purchased on line a month ago. With PDF copies of the confirmation in hand, we walked confidently up to the ticket machine to print them, it would not recognize either the code or my card. The best advice we had was, get in line at the ticket desk and get them to print it. NOT ENOUGH TIME!!! After dropping a few F bombs, for the first and hopefully last but likely not time, on the trip it was action time.   I pushed my way to the front of the " strictly for elite members line" and wouldn't budge till they printed them for me.

The good stuff. Absolutely everything else. We met two pilgrims from BC in the vending line ( we are not that hard to spot) And another from Ottawa sitting with us on the train. You actually catch the train right at the airport, a few mins walk in the terminal from bag pick up. The trains are clean, modern, super fast and quiet. Every connection to every other mode of transportation is right there where you disembark from the last link. 

Our first connection in Bordeaux St Jean was a beautiful place, again with direct connection to the city's  LRT line. They used the "naked street" or " shared street" concept, which is running the train directly through the pedestrian area, allowing free flow of people across the tracks, and lined with bars, shops and cages on the side. It is similar to the concept we tried on our project in Markham, but it is a hard sell because of safety reasons, and is a 100 times better than the St Clair LRT in Toronto which literally cuts off access to either side of the street. Most impressive and this network would actually get me out of my car. 

Pilgrim tips:

- So far information screens; to find what carousel your bags are coming on or what platform your train leaves from; is on a need to know basis. These are assigned on an arrival basis and you might not know where to go, or your information might not even show up on the screen to confirm you are looking in the right spot, until just before things get there or you are scheduled to leave. That's a little disconcerting for North Americans who are used to seeing all information shown at once. But once you get used to it, it actually makes good sense.

- there are many trains leaving from CDJ airport: into Paris, surrounding area and national. They all have different ticket machines and leave from different platforms. You need to look for the SNCF red symbol of you are heading to St Jean Pied de Port.

- you can get good food at the airport and all train stations we were through. None of this fast food stuff.