A Star is Born

Done and dusted.  I arrived in Santiago just on 2 days ago.  It was an emotional arrival, and a great feeling to have finished.  Within a minute of arriving outside the cathedral I was interviewed by Spanish TV.  I answered their questions in my caveman spanish.  Don´t know if it went to air because in pilgrim world there are no TVs.  I have spent the last 2 days recovering from the physical and mental marathon that is the camino.  I managed to pick up a cold so at least I´ve got something to complain about.  Here is a picture of the cathedral.  I woke early on Monday morning, around 4 am.  By 5 am I was up and packing my rucksack.  For once I was waking the Germans up.  I was on the road by 5.45 am and made the 20 km to Santago by 10 am.  The night before I´d met up with Nick the Greek who I´d had dinner with many times along the way, so it was great to enter Santiago with a friend. As I said, it was an emotional arrival and after an hour of walking around the great golden square I set off to get my Conpostela, it was a long queue but worth it when my name was inscribed in latin on the certificate.  Then it was off to the cathedral, entering through the special pilgrim only doorway and an intimate mass with about 1000 people.  After mass I checked into my pension on a street just off the the plaza Quintanas and  made myself presentable. 

Since then I´ve just taken the time to arrive and relax.  I Haven´t worn shoes for 2 days and my feet are starting to recover.  Drank lots of beer and wine with other pilgrims and suffered a decent hangover this morning.  The local pilgrim first aid organisation is cleaning and dressing my blisters each day.  I was chastised for not covering them up, I was trying to let the buggers dry out and heal, but no, covered up against infection they must be.  Here´s a photo of me outside the cathedral as I arrived.  On Tuesday morning I was up early to visit the cathedral without the hordes and I followed the age old pilgrim ritual.  I prayed before the relics of St James for my family and friends and gave thanks for my safe arrival.  Even took an illegal photo of the casket containing his bones.  Santiago is a vibrant, beautiful city.  I was last here 10 years ago and the number of visitors looks like it has multiplied by a thousandfold.   It rocks all day and all night, my pension is on a small plaza and I have to sleep with earplugs because of the noise from below.  But I´m used to earplugs now.  I run into people from the camino all day walking the streets.  We´ve had  a few dinners and I´ll do so again tonight.  Tomorrow I´ll try to relflect on the whole journey and express what it means to me after such a short time.  I do wnat to say this was no walk in the park.  It was much tougher than I ever expected.  As an experience its second to none.  I would recommend it to others but think once is enough for me.

I can´t get over how busy this place is.  There  are people everywhere and the queues to get into the cathedral are stupefying.  The next photo shows the Queue to get in at around 10 am and follow the pilgrim ritual, anyone can do it so there are lots of tour groups who join in.  The queue goes across the square, turns right and then around the corner.  These people must wait about 3 hours to get in.  I´d rather head for a cafe and a coffee.  So until tomorrow I´ll sign off as a happy pilgrim, looking forward to getting home and the comfort and warmth of my family.  Bob.

More Photos

Got some spare time late at night on the confounded machine.  Here are some more photos.

The biggest alberge I stayed in, 120 beds in one room.  They have pretend curtain dividers but its still one room.  In space everyone can hear you snore.

A dolce vita moment.  This is the main square in Ponferrada.  A city I would like to visit again.

At the 100 km (to go) way marker.  A happy chappy.

The Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross), where pilgrims leave behind momentos of home.  A very emotional place.  The highlight of the trip for me.  More about that later.

Way back at the start, market day in St Jean Pied de Port.  Best vegies I´ve ever seen.

The annual Fiesta at Belorado, one of the two fiestas I stumbled upon. 

More walking across the meseta, except they planted some trees.

Some Camino wierdness.

More main street Galicia.

Well that´s it folks.  Yiddeda Yibbeda.

19 km to go

My guidebook says 20.1 km to go but the wayside markers show less than 19 km.  Who cares, it´s a days easy walking.  One large hill, the Monte de Gozo (Mount of Joy) where pilgrims first get to see Santago and the Cathedral.  I hope for a joyous reception.  This is my last night in an alberge and I plan to remember it, so that I never get silly enough to do this again.  Had dinner last night with a French couple, this was their 4th Camino.  I told them one was enough for me.  The last 2 days have been like walking in Victoria, this part of Galicia is planted almost exclusively with Gum trees.  I think they´re mountan ash because they´re tall and straight.  The smell and sight is just like home.   Its very busy on the camino now.  Lots and lots of people walk only the last 100 km.  The French last night called them tourists, whilst we are TRUE PILGRIMS of course!  I´ll add a few more photos and update you after I arrive in Santiago.
Bob

After a tough climb and entering Galicia at O Cebreiro.

A typical Galician main street.

Dinner at Villafranca del Bierzo.

We Coodabeen Champions

I can almost taste it.  39 km to go.  Only two easy days of walking left.  I slogged it out today to get to Arzua, just want it to be over.  Barring the completely unexpected, I will enter the Cathedral City of Santiago de Compostela around noon on Monday.  If I make it by midday I´ll attend the pilgrim mass at the cathedral and afterwards submit my credential to the Pilgrim´s office and be given a Compostela, the cerfificate of completion.  I will also follow a thousand year old ritual in the cathedral including touching my head to the statue of Maestro Mateo (to get some of his wisdom), hugging a statue of St James and then entering the crypt under the church to pray in front of his relics.  I have a room booked at a pension near the cathedral and hope that tomorrow night will be my last in an alberge.  I have agreed with some friends to meet in the evening for a celebratory dinner. 

Even though the end is near the sight of the pilgrims walking astounds me.  I have never seen a more bandaged and medicated group of people in my life.  Its as if those elastic knee support bandages are part of the uniform.  I´m one of the few without one, but then I hobble just like the others with aching feet.  I think the most prevalent ailment is the blister, followed by a bung knee, then ankles, achilles tendons, tendonitis behind the knee and sore shoulders (caused by backpacks).  Any pilgrim discussion invariably revolves around these ailments, and it always comes back to how fast or far they could have walked if not so injured.  We Coodabeen Champion Pilgrims!

And finally I am dismayed at the prospect of Collingwood being premiers for the second time in my lifetime.  Once was bad enough.  Let´s all pray that it doesn´t happen again.  I´ll have a word with St James on Monday.

Bob

Mood Altering Substances

My best friend at the moment is Mr & Mrs Nurofen´s little boy, he´s called 400 mg and he makes my day just dandy.  This morning I was a miserable bastard.  My feet were hurting, I´d been to the doctor the night before to get my latest mega-blister checked for infection.  Luckily this nasty bit of business is not infected but has a knack for letting me know it´s there.  So there I was hobbling along after starting early this morning and having been bitten by fleas the night before, yes, FLEAS.  I was staying in a hole in the ground called Barbadelo and had a late lunch under a tree when I was joined by the owners friendly dog.  He sat at my feet and begged for scraps, which I duly gave him.  Little did I know that at the same time his mates were feasting on my blood and turning me into an itching, shrieking mess.   So what to do?  Stop for a cafe and a Napolitana and get the Nurofen out.  One 400 mg pill and 15 minutes later I could walk with little pain. 

It wasn´t long before the simple act of walking turned to joy.  I had passed the 100 km mark.  Less than 100 km to go.  It was a fantastic feeling and I was overjoyed.  Right now I´m in the town of Portomarin and it´s less than 90 km to Santiago.  I could have gone on but I want to stay somewhere with a little bit of infrastructure.  The last two days I´ve stayed in Galician backwaters where the greatest asset they had was cowshit.  So tonight its the big smoke.  Maybe dinner with some camino friends, a little wine, a laugh and back to the alberge with my friend Haystacks and his amazing snoring machine.  I can only thank Mr & Mrs Nurofen for making my morning bearable.

Pilgrim Bob

I´ve had enough

Yep, I´m sick of it.  I want to go home.  Only 5 walking days left. Less than 110 km.  I got badly lost this morning for the first time and spent 2 hours trapsing up and down hills searching for a poorly marked path.  Made it back to quasi-civilisation by mid-morning and just wanted to go home.  Managed to create a new blister today, thought it was a stone in my shoe and when I took it off, whammo, another liquid filled depth charge of pain. But I haven´t come this far to give up.  All going well I will be in Santiago on Monday.  I have booked a room at a pension near the cathedral and plan to wallow in excess for a few days.  5 weeks of deprevation deserves some reward, lets hope they have some western junk food available.  Right now I could easily eat half the McDonalds menu.  I hope to see you all soon.
Bob

A Day in the Life

I wake early.  I always do.  Why? Because some German always sets his alarm clock at 5.30 am.  Why is it always a German? What is it with these people and alarm clocks?  This is a holiday for God´s sake!  And how do I know they´re German?  Because within a minute of the alarm clock waking the entire hostel they´re jabbering with their mates about where they can get the cheapest breakfast or some other inanity.  So I lay there for about 15 minutes plotting revenge and listening to them rustle their belongings into their backpacks and then resign myself to another day of purgatory.

By now its almost 6 am and I decide to get up.  First a big drink of water, I try to get a litre down before I start to walk.  It´s hot and a couple of times I´ve been dehydrated and seen some very sick Pilgrims who suffered badly from it.  Then off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hope for an SBM.  Successful Bowel Movement!  The consequence of failure is likely to result in the deposition of a present for a Spanish farmer somewhere along the road during the morning. I hope to avoid this but have had to few times over the last 3 weeks.  Next I tend to my wounds.  It takes a good 15 minutes to sterilise and dress the assorted blisters and their remnants.  Then on with the walking shoes (groan), a quick read of the guidebook and I´m off. 

I usually walk for around 2 hours before looking for a cafe and breakfast in one of the villages we pass through.  If I´ve been well prepared I´ll have a few bananas in my pockets that I eat during that time.  Then it´s into a cafe where I have a cafe con leche (coffee with milk) and a Nepolitana.  This is a sort of croissant filled with chocolate, a quick zap in the microwave and its an oozing mess of sweet brown liquid inside soggy pastry.  What could be better to sustain a pilgrim?  I also look for shops to buy fruit, the stone fruit are great right now and I´ve had feasts of nectarines and peaches.  The apples are crap, old and wrinkly, like my walking companions! 

I´m drinking water all the time and there are many fuentes (fountains) along the way.  Through all of this I´m doing about 5 km an hour depending upon the terrain.  At worst it slows to 3 and at best its probably as high as 6.  By midday I´ll be getting close to my destination, a short day finishes around noon and a long one (> 28 km) by around 2 pm.  On the really strenuous days I´ll finish around 4 pm, completely exhausted.   I reach the chosen town and look for the alberge, stumble across the threshold and get my credential stamped, hand over 4 or 5 Euros and accept another bed in a communal dorm.  Then its off to shower, hoping they´ve got doors or even curtains and pray for hot water.  Then wash my clothes, hang them to dry.  Tend to my wounds and have a snooze.  By 5 pm I´ve roused again and am looking for friends to have dinner with.  Off to local restaurant around 7 pm for the menu peregrino and back by 9 pm with a full stomach, ready for another night with Haystacks Calhoon (from Alberta) and his amazing snoring machine.

And by the time I know it, some German´s alarm clock is going off again......