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!