Romancing the Camino!

Like every adventure, the good times dominate memories whilst the harsher reality fades in insignificance. We set off on Camino round two with a longing for an uncomplicated life. A life stripped bare; one of walking through hamlets, exploring the countryside and enjoying a vino tinto or two. Ahh, how simple.

The mind is a clever thing. Protecting sanity and giving society the ability to repeat hardships. If memories of giving birth were razor-sharp, mankind would be extinct for sure!

The reality of the Camino memory did not take long to kick in. The exhaustion of jetlag combined with daily 20 km + hikes, very quickly became apparent. The body ached, feet were sore (Lea got 2 blisters) and fatigue was very much at the forefront as our bodies adjusted to a new way of life.

We were quick to forget that sharing a dorm with 10 or more pilgrims was no pajama party! The snoring, farting and rustling of our albergue mates gnored into our slumber. Thanks to St James for fatigation and our  ear plugs  for ensuring a decent enough sleep. Even though an average pilgrim carries the bare necessities, repacking your pack each morning was a chore. Especially if you decide to depart earlier than your dorm mates. Trying to be quiet as a mouse as you haphazardly grab your gear and head to a common area to pack your bag properly.

Pilgrims usually start their day early, and most times this means walking by torch light and enjoying the dawn, 5 or so kms into the day.  The Spanish population arise late, enjoy a siesta and then stay up until the wee hours. This can cause conflict in the routine of the average pilgrim. Looking to replenish energy levels was sometimes stressful as we passed through sleepy villages mid morning in hopes that a bar or cafe would be open for business and serve us morning tea! By mid afternoon, when your days journey is done, the locals have closed shop and are enjoying their nanny naps. In the smaller hamlets, you can be hard pushed to find a snack let alone, well earned bevvie! Most days, you are well and truly ready to Snuggle in your sleeping bag by 7.30/8 pm. But, alas that is when all the fun began. Many places didn't open their kitchen until 8. So, quite a few evenings found us picnicking on carb loaded boccodillas and a bottle of vino from the supermarket, followed by an early retirement!

Our recollection from our first Camino was walking through the country side and enjoying the fragrant, fresh air. Reality bit as we sometimes found ourselves roadside with fog and car fumes assaulting our senses.

Abulations could also be a concern along the way. Every morn before embarking on the trail, Lea would fill her pockets with loo paper, just encase of  an emergency off trail pit stop. Needless to say, came in useful!

Forgotten too were the aches, pains, weight loss ( ok, that is a good thing) and injury. Makes a pilgrim wonder why the hell are they doing it. The camino is certainly not a bed of roses, it is a challenging trek of hardship that  takes you out of your comfort zone and dumps you into a world of survival of the fittest.

All that being said, would we recommend walking the Camino?
The answer is unquestionably,
Si 👣

Madrid!

Madrid, the capital of Spain was the final sojourn on our  adventure.  Limited time saw us decide that the best way to tackle the city was to jump on a segway and hit the streets.   With no understanding of the mechanisms used to control and manoeuvre the device, combined with ignorance on where we were going, the segway tour seemed such a great idea!

The first movements of motion were like a child's first steps: tentative, uncertain, yet rewarding.  Confidence grew quickly, leading to Brad deciding to take photos, develop his own obstacle course and crash into a pole at speed, propelling him like a cartoon character, into the air, until gravity slammed him back to earth.  Lesson learnt - baby steps!

We explored the narrow cobblestone streets, that took us to a panoramic view overlooking the Almudena Cathedral .  A steep decline followed that had us feeling that we were descending our own personal roller-coaster with twists and turns, manoeuvring between cars and people.  Eventually, we emerged  into the main square of Madrid; the social hub, where street performers ply their trade and sad looking, costume clad hawkers offer  photo opportunities for a euro.

As we leant forward, we were thrust towards the art and cultural district; the heart of the flamingo dance and where living botanical wonderlands adorn buildings.  Somehow, we made it across a roundabout inhabited by every mode of transport without an indicator or clearly defined exits in sight.  The sanctuary of  Retiro Park awaited, here the Crystal Palace built in 1887 sits majestically overlooking the Alfonso XII monument,  that is surrounded by a man-made lake full of  row boats for hire.

Our segway provided one last challenge as it threw us onto the main arterial road swarming with peak-hour traffic, blaring horns and a blur of pedestrians. This tour is definitely not for the faint hearted.

Tour finished and with some time still on our side, we roamed on foot. Strolled through the Moor gardens near the Royal Palace, explored the Cathedral from its crypt to its altar, rode the metro and finished off  the day with great food, laughter and a few cervezas.

                              Salud, gracias and adios Espana!

The End of the World x 2

The walk to Fisterra hurt! Even though the walk itself threw up many postcard type moments, it also physically spat you out. 

A visit to Fisterra is incomplete without a trek to Faro Fisterra, the so called end of the world.  This is where the famous 0.00km marker sits and tradition states, that pilgrims from the Frances Camino discard their shell and burn their clothing to signify purity and new beginnings.  Such a practice is now out-lawed, but a few hearty souls still try to sneak in a pilgrim BBQ.

The hike to Faro Fisterra was accompanied by a sky filled with stars, a mist that crept over the cliff tops and carpeted the path. The goal was to reach Faro as the sun rose and watch the dawn wash across the ocean.  It was on the rocks that we waited, silhouetted by the hue of the lighthouse beacon for the awakening of the day.  Brad had came prepared and as the full glory of the dawn erupted, he pulled out a beer, cracked it to salute the morn.  A celebration lunch of Gambones (prawns fried in garlic, olive oil and rock-salt) and super Grande gin & tonic topped off a great day.

The end but not quite. From Fisterra, the plan had been to walk the 28km to Muxia, however; Lea, who had begun the adventure with a canter, was reduced to a hobble. It was decided to catch the bus for the last stretch. A tough choice at the time, but the right one in hindsight.  Muxia, is also known as the end of the world, however; unlike Fisterra with its flashy tourist trappings, Muxia is a sleepy town in a laid back kind of way.  The Atlantic Ocean smashes into this simple fishing village, where the Virgin of the Boat (Sanctuary of Virxe da Barca) along with Monte Corpino lovingly protect the local  community.

Muxia provided us with a time of reflection.  We broke bread, drank wine, watched the colour of the ocean change from aquamarine to shades of grey and relaxed as the bleeding sun leeched across the horizon.

 As we soaked up the ambience, we realised that this is not the end but a merely Camino chapter.

  The Portuguese way is calling!

Camino de fisterra!

The streets of Santiago seemed to be a place of isolation as we began our way to Fisterra. Our poles echoed across the Plaza do Obradorio, which many hours before had been a place of jubilation, as pilgrims converged to celebrate the end of their journey.   Leaving town, we headed into a forest where our torch beams ensured us of a clear path.  At one stage we decided to turn off our head-torches to experience the total darkness; all vision was lost, as we stood and savoured the moment.

We traversed through Ponte Sarela and Sarlea de Abaixo then  stopped and witnessed the morning light touch the Cathedral in the  far off distance.  Our journey took us through ancient forests and hamlets, so rustic that even dilapidated houses were picture worthy.  The magic of tranquility engulfed us and it felt like we were the only people on the way.  A rest stop at Ponte Maceria saw us scramble across rocks to lounge near the Rio Tambre.  It is here that legend says  'As the disciples of St James fled the Romans, divine intervention collapsed the centre span of the bridge, stranding the Romans on the other side'.

It was at Negreria, that we began to build the sense of community that was missing in our previous section of the Camino.  Jumping in at Ponferreda, felt like being an intruder in a reality TV show, here however, everyone started the journey at the same place.

A blanket of fog greeted us as we emerged from the Albergue and  passed through the walled gate of Negreria to make our way to Zas. It made for a  difficult and dangerous trek as a good stretch was roadside.  Car headlights streamed towards us and we hoped that the beam of our head torch illuminated enough so that we were visable. The pea soup mist took us  through the hamlets of O Rapote and A Pena and Pixae.  Our morning tea stop saw Brad consume a bocadillo the size of his head; carbed up he was rearing to tackle the rest of the day. Our path was halted outside Maronas as a herd of cows stared, strolled and flashed the occasional brown eye whilst littering the path with their waste.  They seemed to smile knowingly at us as we zig zagged  our way through cow pat offerings and  made our way to Santa Marina to rest overnight.

Raging rivers flowed in the foreground as we made our way towards Logoso, a village owned by one family and is famous for a balancing rock.  (We discovered that this phenomena was not created by mother nature but a bulldozer and crane). Horreos scattered the landscape surrounding the hamlets of Lamelas, Lago and Corzon.  These narrow, grainstores are used to protect, hold and ripen all types of grain, are prominent in the Galicia region.  It was along this trek that we saw pilgrims camped out, their tent flapping in the wind and a huge buen Camino greeted us as we passed.  

We attempted to balance our walking distance so that our bodies were not fatigued and manage injuries.  However, the Finisterre - Muxia Camino had a couple of big 30km plus days which slammed hard. As we started the 31km walk into Fisterra in the early morn, darkness covered the landscape and for the first time stars dance as we walked through forests of eucalyptus trees that spawn their unique aroma, reminiscent of home. The great divide splits the Camino into two: Fisterra and Muxia; we turned toward Fisterra! A sunrise  immersed us in its glory and we caught our first glimpse of the Atlantic  Ocean  on our way down to Cee.   Following the coast line to Corcubion, Iglesias de San Marcos erupts from the streetscape and marinas line the coastline.  The last 5km was tough as we walked on man made cobble stones that played havoc with our feet. 8 hours after we left Logoso,  we stumbled into Fisterra, beaten and fatigued.  With just enough energy left we grabbed our 'Fisterrana' and made our way to our accommodation.  The end of the world could wait. It wasn't  going anywhere nor were we.

The Awakening!

The whispers ebb away at the subconscious, a glimpse of torch light dance across closed eyelids and the rustle of bags being repacked becomes the chorus of the Camino awakening. A night in an albergue, Deja Vu!

It is from Ponferrada that our feet first hit the Camino trail and romantic memories from our last sojourn filter back.  Excitedly, we diligently watch out for arrows and shells, as we try to shake the jet-lag.  We pass through Compostilla Iglesia Santa Maria, where street art frames the portico; onto the sleepy hamlet of Fuentus Nuevas, until we reach Cacabelos, where we sleep the night in the grounds of the Capilla de Las Augustia XVII.  A  celebration is had, as we sit by the river, making toasts with vino tinto to the freedom of the Camino!

Darkness and rain greet us as we set out from Cacabelos to God knows where.  The first 2kms sees us illuminated by our headtorches as we follow the way out of town.  A crackling hum of power lines guided us through vineyards, as early morning farmers, waved purple stained hands in greeting.  Our way took us through Villafranco del Biezo, where churches dominate the skyline and an 8.50 Euro stick of deodorant awaits to be purchased. Some may see the correlation here! Unfortunately, we missed the scenic alternative route and instead, were thrown  onto a main arterial road that heaves fumes and spits up asphalt. On to the hamlet of Trabadelo, where serendipity takes control and we stop at Casa Susi.  We learn of a love story between our hosts, Susi and Fermon and how the Camino is intertwined with fate. We share a communal meal, stories and experiences over a couple of bottles  local of vinos.  Laughter fills the Casa and we go to bed knowing that the Camino has once  again provided a day of memories.

We awake  next morn with the knowledge that our day ahead will involve conquering the highest peak on the way of St James - O'Cebreiro.  To reach this beast of a peak, we pass through hamlets of Abasement, Ruitelan, La Faba and Launa de Cada, which blur into one and seem to have the same picturesque postcard setting of ramshakle houses, balconies in bloom, undulating hills, combined with a distinct aroma of cow dung.
 

The trek up to the peak was a brut- a gut busting event.  Our poles propped and propelled us forward, little by little as  the lactic acid made our legs buckle, and the sweat cascaded from every pore.  They do say 'no pain, no gain' and this is true of the El Camino.  Arriving at the summit of O'Cebrerio and looking out across the plateau, we have a clear understanding of  the meaning of such a saying.

Onward to Tricastela, and our thoughts move to Sarria and Santiago  de Compostella.  Our plan had been to walk to Sarria then catch a train to Santiago, but as we completed the first section quicker than expected, we decide to walk on. A decision of some regret.  A few days short of Santiago, the crowds flooded the path, designer gear sparkled and pilgrim tourists  walked with beers rather than hiking poles.  Cafes and bars were six deep as people fought over a stamp for their credential and tour buses wait at designated areas to pick up passengers to drop off at the next scenic stretch.  The beauty of the landscape was dissolved by the masses and in hindsight, we should have by-passed this section and started on our way to Fisterra earlier.

The Camino has always been about the 3C's - Challenge, Community and Conversation.  It is at the many Albergues that conversations flow over vino tinto and questions always filter back to why, the  Camino.  Stories are retold to new companions who will be replaced at the next Albergue and so the cycle continues.

Postscript:  Made it to Santiago and waited 5 hours at the Pilgrim Office to get our Compostela. (of which, we now have 2)