There and Back Again

Three weeks ago, after our first restless night spent in creaky albergue bunk beds being serenaded by snoring/farting strangers, Caity and I rose before dawn, laced up our shoes and headed out into the misty morning to walk the first 23 km of our Camino, from Sarria to Portomarin.

A week later, we sat over early morning cafe con leche in a Santiago bar, exhausted to the point of nausea, nearly every bone and joint in our bodies advising us to give up... on the verge of acquiescing...

Yesterday, back home and in the midst of all the noise, fun and frenzy of a classic Cayucos 4th of July, Caity caught my eye and mouthed "I miss the Camino."

Me, too.



We walked 108 miles in ten days. The first 70 miles -- Sarria to Santiago de Compostela -- in 5 days. Then, in deference to our screaming feet and knees and hips, we slackened the pace, taking 5 more days to walk the 38 miles from Santiago to Finisterre.

We walked through dense forests, lush meadows and fields purpled with foxgloves and bordered by blazing yellow broom. We labored up then slipped and skittered down steep hills where the rocky path had weathered into deep ruts just inviting the turn of an ankle. We wandered past mile on mile of dry-stack walls laced with ivy and wildflowers, past ancient stone homes and farms and stilted horreos, through tiny little towns whose names we never caught as well as the fine, crowded, touristy city of Santiago. On the road to "The End of the Earth", eucalyptus forests gradually gave way to windmill-studded coastal hills ("hill" being a deceptively gentle word for some of the things we labored up and over), and finally down rocky ocean bluffs to the silky beaches at Cee and Fisterrae.



We met amazing people: fellow pilgrims, kind locals, and long-suffering farmers and dairy ranchers and other folks who obviously do not love yet graciously tolerate this parade of strangers through their lives with a distant, dignified "Buen Camino." And call "No, no - a dereche!" to help point you back on the right path when you've missed the waymark and lost your way.



This is us, going:

And this is us, coming back:

And that is the sum total of our Camino photos.

I can't say I completely honored my No-Tech promise to Caity. I had a very worried husband at home who constantly wanted to know that his wife and daughter were safe. I texted him daily -- usually just once. This irritated Caity (too much contact) and Ron (not nearly enough).... Oh, well, sometimes the best you can do is to equally disappoint everyone.

But aside from that -- no cameras, no email, no facebook, limited cellphones...pretty damn Acoustic for even a Luddite like me.

We spent the time walking...talking when we felt like it...lapsing into hours of comfortable silence spent deep in our own thoughts...squabbling when appropriate ("Just get away from me!")...singing in harmony...sharing bocadillo queso and oranges and "dos canas, por favor"...

This is how we recorded the journey:



We wrote in journals, and bought a sketch pad and charcoals before heading to Sarria. Along about day 3, when the excitement of being on the Camino had worn off a bit and I was feeling every single ounce I carried in my pack, I pointed out to Caity that a disposable camera would have been a hell of a lot easier to carry that a sketch pad and charcoals... But by that time, she'd sprouted a couple blisters and her knees were killing her, so I didn't belabor the point.

I won't give a step-by-step account of the journey (thank god, eh?). That kind of thing is always better over a glass of wine and a long evening...

But I will share some hard-earned Camino Wisdom:

Sometimes all you can do is accept the pain.

Music always helps.

Everything has weight, so chose your burdens wisely. Know why you carry what you carry. And remember, it's your choice -- so no bitching about how heavy it is if you won't let it go.

"Clean" is a relative concept -- as are "dry", "easy" and "not too far".

Regarding Waymarks, those Scallop Shells & Golden Arrows stitching the Way across Spain:

When you need it, a Waymark appears. Sometimes it's hidden and you must search for it; sometimes it requires interpretation.

If you are tired, or lax, or preoccupied, the Waymark can be easily missed -- then you are very lucky when someone points you back on the way. Return the favor.

Often, the Waymark points where you do not want to go. You need to trust that, no matter how difficult this part of the journey is, the Camino will lead you to your ultimate destination.




At the Pilgrim Office in Santiago, I received the Compostela (for walking at least 100 km for "religious and other reasons") and Caity received a "good on you, girl" certificate (for walking for "other reasons".) The young woman in charge of distribution appeared quite anxious to make Caity understand she couldn't receive the actual Compostela unless her motivation had been at least partly spiritual. But Cait held her own (proud and defiant Agnostic that she is...)



That's it for me, for now. Next time: "Two Caminos".