Pre-Camino Travels | Camino Part 1 | Camino Part 2 | Camino Part 3 | Camino Part 4 | Camino Part 5
Here begins the first installment of emails written to my friends back home while hiking El Camino de Santiago. To see my Pre-Camino journey through France, read the previous blog post here.
In the footsteps of St. Francis of Assisi, Charlamagne, Paulo Choelo and...Shirley MacLaine, I have begun my 500 mile walk, the Camino de Santiago, across Spain. The popularity of the Camino Frances has grown in the past few decades in part from some well known authors writing about it. It also helped that Martin Sheen made a super cheesy (but I secretly like it) B grade movie called The Way and I imagine Post-Franco Spain is probably a little bit more stable for the adventurous middle-aged mom from California trying to find herself.
Medieval pilgrims took such a risk and made such a sacrifice to take the pilgrimage to Santiago that they would often make arrangements in the event that they never returned home. But don't worry! I've got an excellent team coordinating the watering of my plants in my apartment and the bandits under the bridge only want to sell you stale bocadillos and wifi service in their cafe, a snake oil of sorts perhaps, but one that will allow me to eventually see home and loved ones again.
Day 0: St. Jean de Pied de Port, France
Day 1: St. Jean to Roncesvalles, Population 30
Day 0: St. Jean de Pied de Port, France
From Bordeaux, I managed to get on a train without a heart attack. I switched at Bayonne to a little train that took me and mostly other Pilgrims to the traditional start of the Camino Frances. (There are many pilgrim routes that all lead to Santiago. This one is probably the most popular.) The little medieval town of St. Jean was picturesque. I found my way to the sweetest little Pilgrim albergue (hostel) called Gite Ultreia. Everything in this area is written in French and Basque and sometimes Spanish. I strained at every word on the street constantly changing gears and saying Bonjour and Gracias in the same sentence. As soon as I got into the albergue, I immediately felt the difference in attitude and tone of the camino. As I would later hear from another pilgrim, "you smell peace."
So far on day 0, I had no friends. I went on my own to the restaurant across the tiny street. The restaurant's back terrace butts up against the medieval city walls. It is where footman soldiers would pace looking out. It is now a restored tourist footpath. The walkers passed overhead while I dutifully completed the vegetarian pilgrim menu (omelette, potato, and salad.)
Natalie, the host at this pilgrim hostel, sold me my Pilgrim Passport, the credential, for 2 euros, and I received my first stamp from her. I think they are like getting stickers when you are a kid. Pure joy.
After slowly walking around and looking at everything-I mean everything in the entire town- for several hours, I went back to fall asleep in Gite Ultreia.
Marco, the Italian, had a different idea. He came stumbling in right at pilgrim curfew (you have to be in by 10 so you don't disturb the other pilgrims) and fell asleep in the next bed snoring like I've never heard someone snore. It was like Darth Vader slurping peach cobbler through a straw. I thought I wasn't the type to need earplugs but Marco Vader taught me otherwise.
Day 1: St. Jean to Roncesvalles, Population 30
25.1km-Crossing the Pyrenees
I started the Camino with a fairly awkward breakfast with the host and a father and son from Oregon sitting in the small guest kitchen. Starting somewhat late at 7:30am--thanks Marco Vader--I walked to the corner cafe and bought a sandwich and liter of water and well...I started walking...passing through the famous pilgrim archway out of the old city. Within minutes I was climbing a steep road sweating and out of breath. I stopped at the top of one hill looking at little houses and albergues and thinking: "WHAT THE (*&*# IS THIS?" This totally sucks. Then I just started belly laughing at how hard it already was by myself climbing steep incline after steep incline. Within the first hour of walking, and after passing a few slow walkers, I made pace with a young Swede, named Camilla. We soon forgot we were struggling up hills and we started talking about how we were going to help each other find vegetarian options at the next stop. Camilla is a Swedish language and Religious Studies high school teacher switching to being a school librarian. (Teaching is a tough gig...even in Sweden.) She had done a practice hike across the first 3 days of the Camino with her sister last year in preparation.
During that first day, we bought cheese at the top of the mountains from a local. It is the best cheese I've ever had. He even stamped my credencial for reaching his cheese stand. There were the most beautiful views in all directions and I can tell you that things look even more beautiful when you work for them.
The sun was getting hotter, inclines getting steeper, and somehow I was stepping over the French border into Spain (or Navarra depending on who you are talking to.) The descent in the mid-day heat was a hobble of penguin steps down slippery rocks.
The first day's destination is in Roncesvalles. All that is there is a monastery, a beautiful 13th century building that runs a very organized operation taking in hundreds of pilgrims everyday. I bunked in a little section with a Korean woman underneath my bunk and a Spanish mother and daughter who were sending their packs along ahead of them each day. That felt like cheating to me so I am not tempted to pay for that service. I'm gonna stick with the heat rash on my back where my huge pack sits.
Camilla was one section over in the bunks. Our unspoken rule was that we were doing everything together now.
After the best shower of my life, we "barhopped" over to the two bars on the one street town, eating french fries and "Claras" (light beer and lemon soda) at the first one and pasta and wine at the second. The Pilgrim menu at the monastery was not vegetarian friendly so we went the a la carte option happily replenishing our electrolytes and losing them at the same time with alcohol.
The Pilgrim Purge
As sort of planned, I got rid of a few items of clothing I had been wearing in Paris. One pair of jeans, a pair of running shorts I've probably run a few thousand miles in, a pair of old socks, and a notebook with my used pages torn out of it. I carried those things over the Pyrenees and now I was so proud to get rid of them. There are donation piles where pilgrims leave things they don't need and other pilgrims can take something they might want. Is there a local Spaniard rocking my running shorts somewhere?!
Day 2: Roncesvalles to Zubiri, Population 200
Day 2: Roncesvalles, pop. 30-Zubiri-population 200
21.9km
I've decided that starting the Camino is a bit like the first day of school. You don't know who to talk to, you don't have any friends yet, you are constantly checking the signs to make sure you're walking the right way, and you are not sure which pilgrim is in which group yet.
The second day included quite a lot of inclines again and the heat was unbearable in the last few miles.
It's nice to have upbeat Camilla the Swede to quote Pippi Lonstocking when your feet start to ache in the heat. She talked about how Pippi would always look on the bright side of things. "Our muscles are sore but at least we have muscles." Camilla also taught me a mountain climbing song in Sweden. I have it recorded and it entertains me to no end to sing in a foreign language.
I thought I was a really light packer but for some reason I have become the girl that walks with everything on the Camino. My mochilla, the backpack and I, have had to get to know each other really well. After a few kilometers in on the second day, I pulled a few straps tighter and I think I started floating on the trail. Wearing a pack is all about pulling the right strings. Your backpack is like your horse and you have to learn how to balance weights and where to pull in the reigns...but now that I think about it, are you your backpack's horse?Our second day's accommodations were in a teeny tiny town and we opted for the cheapest "albergue municipal." I would soon learn that most albergues have coed bathrooms...at this municipal hostel they had separate showers for men and women but there were no shower doors. "I want to take you to the Yyyyyy-M-C-A!" Leave your modesty at home everybody!
After another adventurous shower, Camilla and I joined a German girl, Sylvia, at the river. I mentioned I knew yoga and I began my first international class of yoga by the river with Camilla and Sylvia.
Day 3: Zubiri to Pamplona, Population 200, 000
Day 3: Zubiri-Pamplona-population 200,000
20.9km
We continued through the hills of Navarra passing some industrial buildings that jolted us out of the rustic medieval pilgrim path. There is an option to follow the green dotted lines in our guide book for the scenic routes so we opted to take the one towards an 11th century church run by an order of friendly nuns. After climbing an extremely steep hill, sure enough, Camilla and I were greeted by a grinning nun sporting sensible sandals and slacks. She offered us water and a photocopied pilgrim prayer in our language. Sitting on the little steps outside the tiny church, panting and reading the prayer, she invited us in to view the 16th century retablo behind the altar. What impressed me most though was her folder system with laminated explanations of the history of the church in over 30 languages. They were neatly collated alphabetically by language across the back church pew. That is some organized lamination to impress any teacher.
The "Om" of the West
We were then invited to climb to the top of the church spire and ring the bell, just once, for our prayers, waiting 30 seconds between each of our bells to let it ring out. An Italian couple (whose identity you will learn later!) joined us in the bell tower and we each stood and witnessed each other's bell ringing. It was really special. It's the "om" of Western of civilization.
When we entered the outskirts of Pamplona, I was not only shocked by people walking by without a large backpack on, but how many buildings there were in close proximity. I was gone for 3 days from big towns and I was already out of it. The sign outside la farmacia displayed the temperature at 34 degrees Celsius, aka a million Fahrenheit.
The albergue in Pamplona is where I met the very American KathyJo from Minnesota. She is a pediatric nurse in her 50s doing the Camino for the 3rd time and here this time to train to be a hospitalera. These are the people who volunteer to run the albergues for the pilgrims. Within 5 minutes of knowing her, we were putting our clothes in the same washing machine. We had detailed conversations about how our packs get lighter because we start getting rid of things we don't need. I started bragging about the pair of jeans and what not I left in Roncesvalles. She just shook her head and said she wished she was seeing my pack in Santiago. I was now called heavy pack girl.
She also had a rosary she was carrying to be dipped in holy water in every church along the Camino for her sick mother at home. She had me in tears in front of the washing machines within 8 minutes of knowing her.
Camilla, KathyJo, Sylvia from Germany, and I all went for pinchos (pinxos)-the tapas of the North- in happenin' Pamplona. We were not there in time to see the running of the bulls (that happens July 6), which is opposite of the "Camino feeling" but we did see the barricades going up around the city hall building and through the streets where spectators hide or look out from. I love how people buy drinks and pinxos and sit on the ground in the middle of the street in circles. The street is the Pamplona living room.
Day 4: Pamplona to Puente La Reina
Day 4: Pamplona to Puente La Reina
23.8km
I had already spent 72 continuous hours with Camilla, sleeping, eating, and walking within a few feet of each other the whole time. I had not only learned a Swedish folk song but I also learned the detailed working conditions for teachers in Sweden. We also talked at length about linguistics. Her English and Spanish are way better than mine. I could not identify animals in English that she was pointing out to me.
I will say when we went to dinner in Puente La Reina with a table full of Spanish pilgrims, I made a really great joke in Spanish. So there.
The walks also get really intense in the last couple of hours when the heat sets in and our water gets low. The public fountains are sometimes abundant along the Camino, but -magically- a refreshment truck will appear on the side of the road just when you think you cannot go on. Those trucks are taking all my euros in exchange for blue powerades and bananas.
Rosa, from Barcelona, joined Camilla and I on our walk today and she taught us Catalonian Songs. We were now the singing girls. During this day's walk we reached the top of the mountain called "Alto de Perdon" with amazing views of Pamplona in the background and hydroelectric windmills dotting the hills all around.
Rosa is a great dancer and I taught her to samba on the Puente (the bridge) of the Puente La Reina.
We were just out to view the historic bridge but stumbled upon live gypsy music (100 percent natural Navarra...they were not shipped up from the South) playing in the street and I think the whole village came out to watch.
In one of the churches, there was a chapel dedicated to a priest from the town who was recently given sainthood for being martyred in the 1930s. Rosa told me to look up what side of Franco he was on. I will do so and get back to you.
Day 5: Puenta La Reina to Estella
Day 5: Puenta La Reina-Estella
21.9 km
This was the first day of my Camino without walking with Camilla since she left at 4:30am to start walking. She wanted to tbeat the heat. I wanted to sleep while it was still dark out. I walked with Rosa for most of the day through more beautiful countryside and little villages. Rosa is walking the Camino for the 4th time and was giving lots of insider Spanish information about the upcoming national elections and commentary on the local graffiti reminding us that Navarra is not Spain. Everybody wants to represent themselves. Even on the Camino, while not using Internet for an entire week, I got word of Britain leaving the EU. It was some good craic hearing what the Irish pilgrims were going to do now that the British pound was plummeting.
Footcare is key
But this is the point where foot talk gets real. Bring on the diaper cream, everybody! Keep those chapped toes dry! Upon reaching Esterra I came to grips with the fact that I did indeed develop teeny blisters on my pinky toes. It also just so happened that the snoring Marco Vader had reserved a spot next to my bed at the same albergue that day. (Pilgrims run into each other day after day from town to town.) I take back every bad thought I had about Marco because he happily took a needle and thread to my toes (with antiseptic). The thread is to help drain the blisters. I walked to dinner with thread hanging out of my toes. I wore compeed (second skin) the next day with some extra bandaids on those toes. If anyone is into blister popping videos, I have a great one, narrated with Italian. Just ask. I do realize that some of you who subscribed to this email were not signing up for exclusive blister-draining footage. So it's not included here but it is so tantalizing to watch. Foot care solutions are 40% of what we talk about. There is another 40% about food options and the rest is about why you are walking the Camino. I offered to buy Marco Vader a copa de vino for his blister assistance but he was very happy to just hear my story of "El Diente de Sarah"- The Tooth of Sarah-in Spanish instead.
Another reason to like Marco Vader: When I reintroduced myself as Jean como Blue Jeans, as I usually do to clarify pronunciation, he responded, "no, you are Jean like Gin-Tonic."
I have had a good amount of time in the evening to work on some of my drawing series. When people ask me why I am doing the Camino, I now tell them I came to draw. It is my walking artist residency. That seems to satisfy most people, including myself.
Day 6: Estella to Los Arcos
Day 6: Estella - Los Arcos
21.5 km
In my continued effort to lighten my load without paying ridiculous sums to ship things ahead to Santiago, at 6:30am, I tried to give away my purse to a Spanish girl on the Camino. She agreed to stow it in her bag and send it ahead in a taxi. I think she just got a new purse and doesn't know it yet. I also tossed out another pair of pants I didn't really need. Pilgrims talk about how many ounces objects weigh and those were some hefty ounces to unload. So liberating!
Wine and Hiking Come Together at last!
It was a first in my 5 day routine to set off on my own without Camilla or Rosa. I soon found Dourmid from Dublin (I'm not spelling his ridiculous Irish spelling right and I can't be bothered to fix it.) It is strange to walk several miles with people you just met but we got along just fine and shared the experience of filling our water bottles from the well known Fuente de Vino in Irache. The 10th century monastery connected to it is now vacated, but the winemakers remain and let pilgrims drink free wine from 7-9am. Free wine is almost always delicious but this was extra delightful. Wine before coffee...never been...toffee? Laugh-y? Kadafi?
We continued through beautiful countryside and because of my amazing blister remedies, was practically skipping into the next town. It is now Sunday and I'm checking emails for the first time in a week in the kitchen of the albergue municipal, drinking the rest of the wine from Irache from my water bottle, watching the familiar faces from the Camino trickle into town, and awaiting a foot massage from a Brazilian who drives in from the next town over to give pilgrims foot massages everyday.
This is my last night in Navarra before heading to the Logroño region tomorrow. Rosa and I have plans to taste the liquor local to the region.
Yours truly, Heavy Pack Girl Jean-Tonic
Follow to Part 2 of the next stages of the Camino...Pre-Camino Travels | Camino Part 1 | Camino Part 2 | Camino Part 3 | Camino Part 4 | Camino Part 5
