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Arrived in Santiago September 29th around 1:00 P.M. Left the next morning for Palma in Mallorca (also spelled Majorca). Mallorca is a change--sunny, tropical, and balmy. I´m sorry to admit I only heard of this island after Grace got a job here teaching Engish. Tuesday, I´m taking a ferry to Barcelona. Wednesday I´ll arrive, after a few airports, in South Bend, and I am ready. It´s been a good trip, and now it is time to be home.

Weed, Water, and Enjoy

One night at an albergue dinner, Grace spoke with a French man who explained that separation from his wife and family while walking the camino was good because each individual has a secret garden that needs tending. Grace was amused and considered his remark a bit over the top. However, I´m thinking it is a pretty apt analogy for this strange and lovely individual inner life. Also, I loved The Secret Garden book when I was a kid.

More Sentence Fragments

Last Wednesday--can´t believe it´s been that long--we crossed O´Cebreiro, the little town on the top of a beautiful mountain with a breath-taking, jaw-dropping view of other mountains, towns, roads, and clouds. I like this spot more than Santiago. We toured for an hour, ate some cake, drank some cafe con leche, and started down the mountain.

Today, spending the night in Arzua. It is not charming. Grace and I are happy the whole of Spain isn´t charming. We didn´t want to go home with a big inferiority complex.

We have entered the Galician region, land of cows. When we don´t see them, we see or smell evidence of them. There is something sweet and calm about them, and twice we have shared the path with them for a short time. Ban CAFOs.

This morning the albergue served breakfast, and one of the other pilgrims gave Grace a little birthday candle to put on my toast. He lit it with his lighter, everyone sang, and I blew out the candle. It was one of those candles that keep lighting back up. Funny that he happened to have a candle in his pack. I don´t even know his name. Apparently, he overheard me say it was my birthday.

Later today, on the path, I met a woman originally from Spain but now from California. It was her birthday too. Happy Birthday to us.

One of these days I´ll decide whether to write about this strange experience of staying in albergues. Can´t imagine doing it in the U.S., but in this context, it´s okay. Sometimes, much better than okay.

Reasons for Walking

Two nights ago, Grace and I enjoyed an interesting dinner at the albergue. We ate at a table with two Italians, one Slovian, and two men from Holland. One of the Dutch men is walking from Holland to Santiago. He should finish in two days and will have walked 2550 km when he arrives. He is walking to raise money for AIDs orphans in South Africa. His picture is here and if you really want to read it, there is some way to get a rough translation into English.

An Inexplicable Gift

On Sunday this week I learned from the map that there would be much up and down hiking on our day´s walk. I decided I needed to find a walking stick.

There weren´t many choices, and finally I stepped down from the path and picked up a five-foot stick with many little branches sticking out. I started pulling off the branches and asked Grace to help when two hikers came by. One of the young men had a set of metal Nordic hiking poles, and he reaced down with one of them and handed it to me. I took it, thanked him, and asked if he would be in Rabenal that night so I could return the pole.

He said yes and took off down the path. At the time, I had a feeling I would never see him again, and I haven´t.

Nancy says you find what you need on the Camino de Santiago. I´ve scoffed, but when I think about this gift, it has a certain otherworldly quality that makes me a little uneasy.

Reflections on the Cathedral in Leon

When I enter this place I am immediately overcome by awe.

To those of us media sauvy, this building is still so amazing. How did the ordinary people of the 15th centure respond? It was built from 13th to 15 centuries.

How did they do such sophiticated architecture and art at this time? There are 2000 cubic meters of stained glass.

What was--in all ways--the cost of this building?

Sentence Fragments

Grace arrived yesterday and we are now traveling together.

No walking since Thursday. A relaxing break and chance to get more acquainted with Burgos.

Coming closer to pronouncing Burgos with a Spanish u.

Staying tonight in an albergue that reminds me of a mansion in slight decay. Charming but a bit shabby.

Find myself saying ¨charming¨more often than when home.

Cooked dinner for Grace and me in kitchen of the charming arbergue.

Meeting people from Germany, Czeck Republic, Australia, Scandanavia, Canada, and more. Lots from Canada.

People who don´t speak English low on my radar. Reminds me of the joke about the word for a person who only speaks one language: an American.

Sentence Fragments

Today, staying in Burgos close to the cathedral (which is amazine). Meet Grace in two days. I love Burgos!

Monday, stayed in the most charming albergue yet--a 14th century renovated pilgrim hospital. Tuesday morning did the first 30-40 minutes of the walk by moonlight. Very lovely.

Tuesday, stayed in a funky albergue where we moved in two hours before the host-manager arrived.

The last few days have taken us past many fields of wheat stubble, fields on steep, sloping hilsides. Often there will be a huge pile of straw bales in the field. Only once did I actally see the bales being made. Just like home.

Contemplating the Obvious

Traveling at the rate of 14-18 miles per day is, in a way, weird. David Orr speaks of slow knowledge as opposed to fast knowledge. This slow traveling is a way to understand what he means by slow knowledge. And what I conclude is that slow knowledge allows us to know how much we do not know. Of course the fact that I travel a country where I understand so little of the language exacerbates the sense of not knowing. However, it also seems symbolic of how life really is.

There are limits to our understanding our world, each other, even ourselves. Yet, we all keep walking along together trying to complete the journey in an honorable and satisfying fashion. How hard this is--to remember what slow knowledge it is.

All are different; all are the same.

Each is one; all are one.

It is so obvious and so illusive.

It´s just like meditation

I am in Najara tonight. Hiked 20 km today. It´s been a day full of excitment, beauty, frustration, physical exhileration and exhaustion, peace, community, lonliness, and boredom. Passed many vineyards full of fruit. Looks ready to harvest to me, but what do I know?

Also, passed a pomegranite tree. Some blooms the color of the fruit and some fruit. Very beautiful. Fig trees too. And a wonderful green bean dish as the first plate at lunch.

This afternoon sat by the river with friends from Canada and South Africa. One Canadian commented. This scene could be anywhere--the river, the trees, the birds and plants, the sounds of children.

Adios

En-lighten-ment

I was told by another hiker that two aluminum walking poles could bring 30% enlightenment.

Affirmation

An Italian hiker told me yesterday that he admired the U.S. Science is not so corrupted as it is in Italy; we have such potential for discovery. And electing a black president was touching and inspirational. It was a sweet affirmation during discouraging times. (I am going to enjoy this break from American politics!)

Close to the Food

I noticed once, while visiting Linda in Tucson, that one thing I don´t like about Arizona was that so little food could grow there. Growing up in Indiana, I was used to being close to the source of food even though in recent years Indiana has almost become a monoculture (close to the source of ethanol and high fructose corn syrup).

Yesterday and today I´ve walked approximately 45 km through Spain. I have enjoyed being close to the food source: Wheat stubble, indicating recent wheat/grain harvest. Fields of sunflowers, their petals gone and their droopy, seedy heads apparently awaiting harvest. Olive trees and alamond trees. Pear and apple trees. Many vegetable gardens, some with strange-looking plants that might be an artichokes. Last night, beside a small back yard vegetable garden, was a fenced in yard including a fence on the top. It housed a few chickens and a few turkeys. A rabbit hutch was on a low roof. I heard a rooster crow in Pamplona.

I passed, so far, a few vineyards and have sampled a few grapes--very nice and delicately flavored, not at all like the Concord grapes we used to grow. Wild raspberries grow along the path and I have eaten a few. Other berries I don´t recognize and don´t eat. The countryside eems to be an Eden for humans and birds.

Pay Attention

From Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach: Whenever we wholeheartedly attend to the person we're with, to the tree in our front yard or to a squirrel perched on a branch, this living energy becomes an intimate part of who we are....Krishnamurti wrote that "to pay attention means we care, which means we really love." Attention is the most basic form of love. By paying attention we let ourselves be touched by life and our hearts naturally become more open and engaged.

Grounds for a Long Walk

The Ideal

From Rebecca Solnit in Wanderlust: Walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making chord. Walking allows us to be in our bodies and in the world without being made busy by them. It leaves us free to think without being wholly lost in our thoughts.