Words From The Trail
6/20/22
I’m now walking in my sandals.
Blisters have replaced some of my joy of the adventure.
As pilgrims do, we all share the remedies that seem to work. The man walking from Holland who is on his second pair of shoes in his third month of walking received my “toe condom” gels, which claim they help with blisters between the toes. Second Skin, a life saver during my backpacking days in the 1990s, were shared with me by Sharon, a cockney-accented grandmother from Liverpool who threatens to leave the path each day. Various creams, lotions and potions have all been exchanged, each with a proclamation to heal the wounded and cure the sick.
So far it’s working!
I’m determined to keep walking despite the aches and pains.
I’m stating it now in bold letters:
NO MAJOR DECISIONS ABOUT THE HIKE SHOULD BE MADE DURING THE FIRST WEEK OF THE HIKE.
Why? Here’s why:
It’s really hard. You’re walking a half-marathon each day. The brain is hardwired to resist threat (pain) and seek comfort (no blisters, air conditioning). I had to decide before we started our journey that I would keep on the trek no matter what during the first week.
Your body needs to get accustomed to SO much exercise. So much consistent, monotonous, no-avoiding-the-sun exercise!
Managing food and drink requires understanding your body. Typically, we’re one-real-meal-a-day hikers. We have an espresso in the a.m., snack around lunch with another espresso, then dinner upon arrival at the albergue (lodging specifically for Peregrinos [pilgrims]). AFTER showers and clothes-washing, we have a celebratory beer. Pilgrimage dinner is generous and filling, so this schedule has worked pretty well thus far.
Our friends kept telling us that they were going to go home. I kept thinking, “It’s taking me a full year of planning to get here, there is no way I am going back home now.”
No decisions about the hike should be made while on the hike in the first week.
We’ve been baked in unseasonably warm temperatures, certainly a sign of more things to come. 107 degrees is hot on an oceanside hacienda, let alone a dirt trail gaining 3,000 feet in elevation.
The initiation to the Camino Frances leaving Saint Jean took some pilgrims 14 hours to complete. We arrived at Roncesvalles Albergue with a dangerously close diagnosis of heat exhaustion and dehydration. It was here where we met the beginnings of our crew of newly annotated pilgrims/friends.
We experienced a grass fire outside of Pamplona which initiated a Government declaration to “Keep all pilgrims off the path” over a 60 km radius. This declaration has thus caused an evacuation and a pilgrim exodus heading towards future villages further down the path, as the pilgrims don’t quite know how far the fire(s) had traveled. Hundreds of Camino cyclists and walkers boarded trains, buses, and taxis to avoid being told to stay put. We apparently don’t like stopping. We came to walk.
Michael and I took a taxi and a bus and relied on locals to maneuver around the fire. Despite language barriers and through the kindness of strangers, we were able to help unload car seats from a kind man’s minivan to make room for our backpacks while his family picnicked in the only shade of a park. He rescued us from 107 degree temperatures and took us to a hotel where the manager called us a taxi to deliver us to our albergue. The host greeted us with cookies and juice.
Each day Sharon says she’s leaving. Each day I see her walking, walking stick in hand and pack on her back. She still seems headed towards Santiago de Compostela.
6/22/22
The temperatures have dropped 50 degrees since our first day. Existence is so much better when sleep enters your life! Finally, the threat of heat exhaustion has been relieved…for now.
A family of 5 (3 young girls, eldest is 15, a mom, and a dad) enter our albergue cheery and bubbly. I immediately ask, “How did you do this? How do you get 3 kids to hike 500 miles!?!?”
Said the 15-year-old, “Well they didn’t really ask me.” She sounded authentically 15. “They just said that this is what we’re doing!”
Food, showers and ice cream hadn’t yet been sought out, so I knew she still needed nutrients before she could soften into conversation.
We later spoke after showers and while they were ingesting ice cream and a pastry. Mom and dad were drinking a beer.
“Did you travel with your kids?” they ask us.
As many times as possible, but our family trips were most often localized road trips, not a jaunt across the globe like this lucky family. But we always prioritized adventures!
Turns out this is their SECOND Camino, the first taken when the youngest was only 5 years old. I’m not sure which one they traveled on then, nor how long it took, but good on them for making their Camino amazing (and creative) for an entire family to enjoy.
As for the 15-year-old, “they promised me shopping when we return home.” With a bit of a shrug, she justified her earlier response.
Holding ground!
6/23/22
Traveling with the three girls and their parents has been a joy. They are so well-rounded and so well behaved.
I thought about what it is like to travel as a family. Are there stresses? Are you battling your own aches and pains and then still giving energy as a caretaker towards the others? Or are they building character?
What I have discovered is that the three girls are able to hold conversations on their own and befriend others. They’re more independent than I anticipated, not afraid of people. It’s amazing to watch! They show independence while traveling up to 17 miles in one day without complaint. Color me impressed!
The parents reward them with treats. Pastries, ice cream, sometimes espresso! But the truth is, I never hear complaints and I never hear behavior management. They truly are amazing.
We spend long days on the road. Today we played story games where we created a communal story through our imaginations. We broke the monotony of the walk by stopping for lunch and then playing the Oreo cookie game. You place an Oreo on your forehead and wiggle your face until you can get that cookie into your mouth. It was very fun! We were actually even stopping traffic while people watched us play. Michael filmed the whole thing while we laughed and celebrated each other‘s joy when the cookie finally made it into the mouth.
And then we continued our walk.
Today I met a Latvian Firefighter and a hiker from Italy who hikes 47 km a day. Oy!!
30 km appears to be my maximum walking distance. If I try to go much further, I peter out. My body threatens to give way, and it seems like a great option to fall to the wayside and camp at the side of the road.
But this is not what I desire. I desire to be at a comfortable albergue, cleanly showered and in fresh clothes.
So, despite my competitive nature, I am content to travel at my own pace. I graciously allow the Latvian Firefighter to “win” in the mileage department.
