snapshots from the road

ok, apologies for the really long absence from my blog - I'm blaming a total lack of computers, being in the middle of bloody nowhere, long days and late starts and other distractions that will become clear...

anyway, I am two days (count them TWO!) from Santiago de Compostela and I can't quite fit that fact into my brain. I don't know where two months went (it's two months tomorrow since I set out from Le Puy)or 1550kms, which is apparently how far I've walked. Snce I can't possibly blog ALL the moments since I last wrote, I thought I'd cut it down to the highlights, so here goes!

he last of the Meseta
I think I last blogged from the middle of the Meseta, the desert of the Camino. This was an amazing place - I began to understand why people go to the desert to seek knowledge and mystical experiences, because you really do find them there. Jerome told us that the desert would ask us a question, and at a certain point there was a choice between two roads. Our choice of the road was a symbolic answer, to accept a new beginning or stay in the old way of life. Our group chose the new beginning, or the Roman road, which leads through one of the most isolated parts of Spain where there is nothing except for the town in which we would sleep. The meseta was a big experience for all of us, and I watched the changes in the people around me, knowing that they were probably seeing the same in me.

The angel of Reliegos
Our second last day we headed from the remote and tiny town of Calzadilla de los Hermanillos to Mansilla de los Mulas. THe first 18kms were across an empty plain - nothing, no houses, no farms barely any trees, and it was cold and rainy. Jerome and I walked and talked, squelching through mud and water and praying that somewhere there would be a cafe. When we reached Reliegos, the only bar had a sign on the door saying it was shut. It was another 10kms or so to the next town. But the curtains moved and we heard a man shout out, askeing us to wait a moment. He opened the door and gestured us in, talking in the most rapid-fire Spanish I'd heard yet. Essentially he'd been having a day off, but saw us and decided to open so we could rest. We were so grateful and ordered cafe con leches and attempted to order a cheese and ham sandwich. He told me there was no cheese, so I asked what he recommended. Again in incomprehensible Spanish he said something about meat and delicious. I said we'd take two. Hey, it's meant to be an adeventure, right? Since we'd talked about sandwiches I assumed that's what we'd get. Instead we got bowls with hunks of slow-cooked meat (beef? mutton?) with sauce and bread on the side. Not the best thing ever but hot and filling. the other pilgrims of our group filed in, and the music got turned up. It seemed that no matter what people ordered they got whatever he had going in the kitchen. Even when people ordered the same thing it was different! But he was just loving his work and the mood was infectious. We all started singing along and grooving in our chairs. It was such a magic moment after a long hard week. As I watched him I realised what a wonderful thing it is to do something we love, or just simply to do what we do with love.

Leon, Leon
The next day brought us to Leon where we planned to take a rest day. Leon is GORGEOUS and we stayed in a convent in the old town not too far from the Cathedral. The cathedral is one of those amazing gothic churches and it defies description. THe stained-glass windows inside were so beautiful I almost cried. That night Eric, Jerome and I decided to go out for dinner, and Olaf and Tobias said they might join us, but since we didn't know where we were going we figured it wouldn't work out. After wandering around fro 15 minutes (it was 7:30 and nothing opens for dinner here before 8pm) we found a pizza restaurant that was open and strangely the onñy place in Spain where you can't smoke. Since the other two are smokers this was deeply disappointing to them, but something of a relief to me. We ordered wine and food and everything was really good. Just as our pizzas arrived, the door opened and in walked Tobias, just as if we'd planned the rendevous. He really is an elf. We got a bit drunk and ate too much and headed back to the convent just in time to see the other pilgrims returning from evening prayers and for me to get in trouble (a little) from the hospitalero for not attending. Now, there were three other people with me, but why I got the attention is still a mystery. Maybe I look like I need the help?

The next day we walked (yes, it was supposed to be a rest day, but what else do you do?) around Leon, visiting places, buying me a ski jacket, having coffee and finally churros (spanish donuts) with thick thick hot chocolate. We went to the evening prayers where the nuns sang the prayers with voices like angels. All in all, a really lovely day. Then we went to sleep.... well, we tried. The man next to us started up a symphony of snoring and after two hours of pain I moved to the other dormitory, which was empty but open and tried again. Jerome arrived ten minutes later, both of us cursing large Spanish men. Our efforts to sleep were hindered by the party of Spanish people outside or window who seemed to be practicing football chants. Then, around 4am the hospitalero came in, drunk, and demanded to know why we were there. We explained the problem and he said in french something I won't translate because I know my grandmother is reading this! But the basic idea was "Bloody pilgrims, I've had enough". The next morning his foul mood continued and we all hit the road as early as we could, just happy to be out of there.

Indian Summer
We'd spent the whole mesta freezing with wind and rain and cloud, so imagine our sheer joy when the moment we reached Leon the weather cleared and the bluest of blue skies appeared, with glorius sunshine to boot. We were all walking in t-shirts and sweating. It was mid-November and the most wonderful gift from heaven imaginable. I'm now in Galicia, so all that's changed...

The last templar
After Leon comes the Montes of Leon, the steepest and highest part of the camino, and much harder than the Pyrenees, since it's off road and more consistently steep. The goal was to reach Manjarin, an abandoned village on top of the mountain where a man called Thonas has rebuilt some ruins into an albergue and cares for pilgrims in the style of the Knights Templar, the original guardians of the Camino and protectors of pilgrims in medieval times. We passed through Foncebaddon first, hoping to stop at a Celtic restaurant Jerome knows. Foncebaddon is another runied village that is slowly being rebuilt, but seriously, there is NOTHING there. So when we arrived at the restaurant and asked for a table, we were a little surprised to be informed that is was fully booked. It wasn't a small restaurant.

We arrived at Manjarin, which I can only describe as the most fabulous experience I've had along the Camino. No electricty (almost), no showers, pit toilet, freezing outside but warm inside. There were dogs, puppies, cats and kittens everywhere, since all the animals had had litters recently. I almost died of cuteness overload. THe sunset lasted forever, with no other lights to compete, and the stars were the most magnificent thing I've seen in a long, long time. It was just our group there and we were all very, very happy. To anyone thinking about doing the camino - don't believe the guidebooks, STAY HERE!

Cow and Old Lady: 1, Jerome and Rosie: 0
Jerome and I were walking along through tiny hamlets and past farms, figuring we'd be in Sarria for lunch buy 2pm. We came to a small farm and were waved down by an old lady with a plate of pancakes, who sprinkled sugar over them and handed one ot each of us, asking us how our camino was going and how far we'd come. We were so touched by her kindness, as she inquired if there were more pilgrims behind us. As we wentr to leave, thanking her profusely, she siad "Donativo?" (Donation?) We realised we'd just been duped into buying cold pancakes. We gave her a euro for both of us and she had the hide to ask for more! Smiling but shaking our heads we walked away. Later we found out she'd gotten about 4 more from our group...

We kept going and came to another farm where a woman was trying to control a herd of cows, whipping them and yelling. Two of them escaped and came charging up towards us so we jumped out of the wat and waited for her to get it under control. Finally the cows came back down and after what we considered a decent amount of time we followed. Except that one of the cows hadn't followed the herd, and was standing on the camino, mooing loudly and sounding deeply unhappy. We tried to urge her onwards so we could pass, but she decided she'd rather come up towards us again. We backed up pretty fast and cut down a side lane, hoping she didn't break into a run. The problem was, at the bottom of the hill was the rest of the herd and the woamn really didn't care that her cow was blocking the camino. Except her cow wasn't blocking the camino anymore - it had followed us down the path. So we were now stuck between a mad cow and a mad woman with many cows. We jumped a barbed wire fence, cut across a paddock and went behind thwe cow, hiked up the bloody hill and half an hour later were back where we started. However it's always my policy that if something is bigger than you and can do more damage to you than you can to it, back off.

Galicia
Whenever I read anything about Galicia, in the first few lines it says something along the lines of "It rains a lot in Galicia, all the time, every season, and you will definitly get wet" True to form, as we crossed the border from Castilla'Leon to Galicia, dark clouds gathered acros our previously clear skies. Since then it's been grey, white and sometimes blue skies with wind, rain and fog. there's another chance of snow, but who knows. Galicia has eucalypt forests, too, and it's like suddenly walking through Australia. The albergue accommodation is, in a word, crap. Not always, but it's standardised and I think they look at pilgrims and see dollar signs (or euro signs, more accurately). The kitchens are unequiped, the place we're staying in tonight has communal showers with no doors. Sorry, but I'm not showering with strange men. There's a line and that is way, WAY beyond it. The dorms are big too, so if there's a snorer in the midst there's no escape. I think I'm sleeping in the common room tonight...

So there you have, it, 55kms to go and I'll be standing in front of the cathedral in Santiago. All of us are sad to finish this I think - the eternal question of "what next?" is sitting on everyone's lips. But al things must end, and we must finish one journey to begin another. So here goes.

PS: For those wondering about the many mentions of one person in this blog, the answer is yes.