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......

Ponferrada - 202 km to go

Howdy,
Made it to Ponferrada today.  Just over 200 km and 9 walking days left.  Crossed the Montes of Leon this morning and then had a 1000 m + descent after 2 days of climbing.  Feet and knees in poor shape after a very steep descent in hot conditions.  No photos but I will update in the next few days.  I am looking forward to getting home, this is becoming a trial, but every now and again I´m surprised and see the point of it all.
regards
Pilgrim Bob

The way of a thousand churches

Its been a while since I´ve had the chance to post.  Been in the remote Meseta and not much internet and also completely exhausted.  So accept my apologies.  The Meseta is the great flat plain in the middle of Spain and is monotonous.  Here´s what it looks like.

I´ve been thinking about churches.  It´s hard not to.  Every village and town we pass has at least one.  I reckon I´ve had a look at a few thousand of them.  I´ve decided I like the small ones best.  Simple and intimate.  The cathedrals are all about showing off.  I like the quiet, holy feeling of the small churches.  Many of those were built by the Knights Templar on this route.  They were formed to protect Pilgrims but got too big for their boots so the Pope had them all burned at the stake in the early 1300´s.  Still their churches are nice and most of them were taken over by the Knights of Malta (St John).    Here a few photos of some of my favourites.

I have about 260 km left to walk.  Which seems almost unbelievable.  I can remember when it was almost 800 to go.  The highest number of steps I´ve done in a day is 55,877.  That was a long difficult day.  I bought new walking shoes and that is helping with the pain.  And this morning, horror, my pedometer failed.  I have walked about 10 km and no steps counted.  Its working again  now.  Total steps to last night was more than 650 k, can´t remember the exact number.  Some more church photos.

I will now show you how bad the blister on my right foot got.  This is a painful photo.  Again, don´t make fun of my toes.  It seemed to get bigger by the day and then burst at the back.  Fun to walk 25 km a day when your feet are in this shape.  Anyway, it´s much better now and I´m back to my jolly old self.  Also included a photo of my Pilgrim crential showing stamps given at ecah of the albergés along the way. 

So now I prepare for the next challenge.  To cross the Montes of Leon.  This is the highest point along the camino and tomorrow I climb across a pass at over 1500 m.  The views had better be worth it.  I am looking forward to this being over.  Looking forward to the comforts of home and my family.
Adios
Pilgrim Bob

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Total steps stand at 443,521. 

Yesterday I felt like an extra in a Clint Eastwood movie.  It was late afternoon, stinking hot, a mirage shimmered in the distance.  I walked down a dusty street in a small dusty town and expected Clint to turn the corner in his poncho and cigar.  Instead I had to fend off a pack of mangy dogs with my walking poles.  Again, I asked myself what was I doing here?  But the answer was simple.  Bedbugs had brought me to Poblacion de Campos, it translates as Village in the Country but might as well be Shithole in the Middle of Nowhere.

I´d been resting my foot and decided to start walking again. I made it to a town called Fromista and checked into the alberge, a German woman in the bunk above me decided that her sheets weren´t clean and got new ones to change.  As she did out fell a gaggle of bedbugs.  I decided then and there to leave.  I´d met a Bulgarian girl in Puente la Reina who´d been bitten so bad she had to go to Hospital.  So out of there I was.  Had to argue with the arrogant manager to get my money back´, but did so and found myself in Poblacion late in the afternoon.  But as with most things on the camino, it turned out well.  The Poblacion albegre was clean and only 6 people in 22 beds, so extra pillows on tap.  Very little snoring and we shared a self cooked meal in the kitchen.  Foot felt OK so I decided to press on for the next day. I´m walking across the Meseta.  The great, flat, hot and boring central plain of Spain.  The altitude is quite high but the land flat and unpleasant to walk in.  By next week I hope to be in Galicia, the green, wet, north western part fo Spain.

Bedbugs are an unfortunate fact of life on the camino but I haven´t been bitten yet.  I´m extra vigilant but have seen a few cases of it.  I suppose with 200 k people waklking through these alberges the chance of someone bringing unwelcome friends is high. 

Can´t share any photos but will update this and add a few more when I can. I´m now at the half way point.  I think I can finish it.  Would like to have a motorbike every time I see a big hill though.  Looks like rain tomorrow.

Pilgrim Bob

An extended siesta

I am resting my right foot for a few days.  Hope to start walking again on Sunday.  Have moved into the province of Castilla y Leon.  Will update again when I start walking.  Spirits high but but body weak.  Still sampling the Rioja though.
Adios
Bob

Some Photos

Having a quiet day.  Managed to get a few photos uploaded.  Grapes in la Rioja.  Big blister has since got a lot worse.  Dont make fun of my toes.  Puente la Reina.  Dinner with the Bush Doctor et al.

A Dirty Little Secret

I have a dirty little secret and I need to share it.  Yesterday I took the bus part of the way.  In the eyes of the die-hard pilgrims I´m less than human, but I needed it. My blisters have worsened and skin in now lifting off in big slabs, if you´re brave I´ll show you a photo.  There is a certain breed of pilgrim who believes that unless you walk every step of the way you´re not a real pilgrim.  I subscribe to a pragmatic approach and if I have to take a bus every now and again I´ll do it.  After all, a medieval pilgrim wouldn´t knock back a lift from a mule train would he!  Yesterday´s trek was from Logoño to Najera, almost 30 km.  I took the bus to Navarette,  about 10 km along the road and walked the next 20 km. Interestingly, when I announced to my fellow pilgrims that I would take the bus there was considerable silence.  In the morning there were six of us waiting for the bus.  We all agreed it was the best Euro we ever spent, speeding down the freeway in a small bus we covered 10 kms in around 10 minutes, that would take 2.5 hours of hard walking and about 14,000 steps.

I have also come to the conclusion that I am the only pilgrim who believes that homeopathic medicine is a crock of shit.  It seems that the spiritual side of the Camino attracts the loons as well.  I´ve seen a New Zealander dangling a crytal on a string above her food, I didn´t ask why as I was simply incredulous.  Also had a German woman doing yoga on the top bunk in a hostal at 3 am.  I kid you not.  There are a few reasonably grounded ones like me here too, but you have to search for them.  Getting sick of the food.  Restaurants offer a Pilgrim menu served early at 7 pm for around 9 Euros, 3 courses, vino included but they are very repetitive.  So tonight I cook.  Am staying in a hostal in the Cistercian Nuns Abbey, good cooking facilities.

The biggest challenge I have is to heal the blisters so that I can finish this walk.  The wine in La Rioja is good and very cheap. Steps taken to date 318,547.  Well on the way to one miilion.

Until tomorrow.
Bob

Pilgrim World

At some point each day I ask myself what the hell am I doing here and why am I doing it.  It´s usually half way up the side of a bastard of a hill.  But then each  night after I finish a dinner shared with new camino friends it all makes sense.  I´ve been walking 7 days now need to apologise for the lack of updates.  Put simply I´ve either had no access or have been too exhausted to post.  Covering an average of 25 km a day over ground that can only be described as mountainous takes it´s toll.  I have just clocked up 241,499 steps.  I know I have lost weight because I´ve had to tighten my belt.  I am writing from Los Arcos in Navarra and tomorrow will move into the province of La Rioja.  Home of the best wines in Spain! 

I want to tell you about my life on the road.  I live in Pilgrim World.  It´s different to where you live.  We have no TV, no newspapers, no contact with the outside world, except for surly Spanish waiters.  When I return to civilisation there will be a black spot in my recollections of world affairs.  I understand there was an election last weekend.  Who won?  In Pilgrim World we walk on back roads or goat tracks and hardly see a car all day.  It was a bit of a shock traversing Pamplona the other day.  Not even any bulls but it was damn hot, 38 degC.  In pilgrim world normal standards disappear, especially those around privacy, hygiene and etiquette. 

When you share an alberge with 40 or so like minded exhausted pilgrims, in mixed dorms and with mixed faciltiies modesty takes a tumble.  Add to that extreme temperatures and things get a little scary.  I´ve seen enough sturdy, middle-aged Swedish pilgrims in their underwear to last a life time.  And there are certain Frenchmen who decide that its Ok to trott around the place starkers, and we won´t even go near the Dutch! 

Personal hygiene has never been one of my strengths but here it suffers.  We walk, walk and walk and its hot.  Each day we have to hand wash our clothes and sometimes can only get short cold showers.  I hadn´t noticed how much my fellow pilgrims stank until we were in the Pamplona and the yocals were avoiding us
In Pilgrim world we talk about blisters.  Blisters - I can recite the word in seven different languages now.  Blisters and assorted sorts of pain rule our lives.  But blisters are number one.  I have 4 of the bastards and the Bush Doctor, Yves from Lyon, worked his chemical magic on them this afternoon.  Perhaps tomorrow I won´t hobble anymore.

I will also apologise for not adding any photos, these internet booths have no connection for SD cards or USB but tomorrow I hit the next Big Smoke in Logroño so may have success.  I must go now because a French pilgrim behind me is itching to get on.

No chace to check for typos here goes!

Bob

To Hell and back

I´ve been there and seen the devil.  Its a great big never ending hill that tries to destroy you.  Day 1 was what I thought a tough but doable walk from St Jean to Orisson, a climb of about 700 metres before I spent a night at the Refuge Orisson.  It was doable but worse than tough.  A climb that was so steep that it took me 3+ hours to make 8 km.  In the end I was stopping every 30 - 40 meters to catch my breath.   The gradient was simply astounding.  I set out at around 10 am and after 1 pm nearly collapsed at the reception.  Was soon revived with a Grand Bierre de Pression though, not bad, and combined with the local version of a mixed grill I was ready for the next day. A photo taken on day 1 as I climbed to Orisson.

But not before the snoring monster reared its ugly head.  I was happily relaxing on my bed when what can only be described as an Idiot Dane walked in and took a nearby bunk, he then proclaimed "I suffer from sleep apnoea and will snore tonight", well thankyou very much, bastard.  I had already been subjected to 3 consecutive days of sleep deprivation on Cathay Pacific and by other snorers and now we had the grand master, The Idiot Dane.  I had around 4 hours of broken sleep, ear plugs were no use.  In the morning he told us he´d had a good nights sleep.  I suggested he sleep outisde and keep the cows awake.  Dinner was good again with roast lamb, a bean casserole and Tarte Basque to finish off.  A little wine was also consumed. 

Next morning up early to walk the final 18 km across to Roncesvalles in Spain.  A new surpise was in store for us.  RAIN.  Rain and fog like you´ve never seen.  The walk was difficult in good conditions, but with torrential rain and storng winds I was soaked to the bone within half an hour.  I had decided to walk with a Canadian and we needed each others support to get across.  Visibility was zero, I had expected to pass landmarks along the way but we´d pass without even seeing them.  Our walking track resembled a small stream and I found out that my shoes are waterproof, they don´t let any water out as I squelched my way across.  At one point it was so bad we had to take refuge in an emergency hut.  Out of the wind it was a little warmer.  We pushed on and felt sorry for a bunch of Irish youngsters who were crossing without coats or hats.  Unbelievable.  We finally got across and fell in a heap in Roncesvalles.  I took a room in a hotel to get some sleep and today walked 28 km to Larasoaña in 30+ degree heat, a hell of a change.
Back with more soon.
Bob

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away

Last night was a gift from above followed by divine punishment.  The gift was dinner at the Espirit du Chemin hostel here in St Jean Pied de Port.  Lots of good simple food, some rough local wine, the company of 25  pilgrims about to set out.  We all had to tell our story around the table, a little like introducing yourself at a work meeting but this was funny and full of emotion.  There are many reasons for walking this road.  My table was a pot pourri of nationalities, Irish, Dutch, Belgian, Spanish, French, Canadian and one Aussie.  I sat next to two Dutch widows who were riding from Rotterdam to Santiago and had to practice my rusty Dutch. St Jean right.

Divine punishment was trying to sleep in a dorm full of snoring old farts, literally.  I think I got about two hours.  At times the noise was like the jungle, strange sounds emanating form unknown places.  This must be retribution for too many years of my own snoring.  But the whole experience has been good.  I have been made to feel at home already.  No sooner had I finally nodded off when the early birds rose to set off.  I got up and wished them farewell.  Chances are we`ll never meet again but I hope it`s not true. 

Did my first round of hand washing clothes yesterday and raised a sweat, it must be in the low 30`s.  Today is market day in St Jean, so I`m hanging around for a sticky beak and buy a little fruit before setting off in a few hours time.  I walk to Refuge Orisson, a mid-point across the Pyrenees. 
Till we meet again, Buen Camino.
Bob

Pilgrim Haircut

My golly gosh.  It’s upon me already.  I’m leaving tonight and I need to pack and get ready for almost six weeks away.  I’ve never gone on holidays on my own before and I’m feeling guilty about leaving Nanette, Isabel & Eric at home.  But this is not a holiday, it’s a pilgrimage and I’m going out there to walk my ass off.  I’m wondering if these feet have the stamina to make it 500 miles.  Miles sound much better than kilometers.  The Proclaimers couldn’t have sung about 500 kilometers, but 500 miles, YES!   I’ll be voluntarily submitting myself to 24 hours of Hong Kong Chinese torture.  It’s called Cathay Pacific economy class to London.  Sit in a pathetically small space, be starved of sleep, sustenance and respect, and hope you’ll come out the other end alive.  But still an order of magnitude better service than Qantas or (shudder) any American airline.

I gave myself a pilgrim haircut this morning.  No need to carry a comb and it dries quicker.  I'm hoping for an end to Australia's latest Socialist experiment on Saturday.  Keep well and I’ll write again from the Camino.  

Bob

Saturday 14 August DDay-10

I have taken the unexpected step of creating a blog.  It was this or facebook and my daughter told me that facebook was for old farts, so it had to be a blog.  I leave  to walk from St Jean Pied de Port to Santiago de Compostela on Friday and start walking on Monday.  This week I was in Queensland flying the pipeline by helicopter. It's me in a Bell Jetranger between Rockhampton and Gladstone.  I named the blog one million steps to Santiago because I calculated I will do 987,500 with a few extras along the way.