I simply can’t get away with it every time and Kathey wasn’t going along with my usual minimalist approach when we packed for our wintering over in Playa del Carmen, on the Mexican Riviera Maya.
As I’ve learned to be from my adventurous friends (more…)
As a lead up to the release of my book “SU Camino…”, I’ve been posting here portions of my poetic portrayal of a pilgrim’s day on the Camino de Santiago, from my perspective, as we walked 40 kilometers per day on the Camino Francés during the hot summer month of July. Below, I’ve included that rendering in its entirety:
Up into the Pyrenees from St Jean
Parts of parts: In his delightful Camino narrative “I’m Off Then”, Hape Kerkeling says the pilgrim’s day is a “microcosm” of one’s total Camino journey; hard to get going in the beginning and exhausted but happy in the end. The pilgrim, the thru-hiker, the spiritual-adventurer takes to the day, sluggish but expectant and experiences a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, day after day, Camino after Camino.
Satiated. Clean and refreshed, thrilled by a shower, cool, warm, or hot. Reflecting on the marvels of the day. Looking towards the wonders of tomorrow. De-packing, repacking, always the packing. Read a little; headlamp lighting the page (more…)
And we’re—moving on: On goes the Camino, snaking through countryside, pueblo and city. Past grand cathedral and red corn poppies. Oh, the red corn poppies. The heat of the day presents itself before we are aware. Now we sweat (or perspire) and our pace slows. Should we rest in the shade or get our trek over for the day? There is no shade.
Northern California’s beauty is found even on a grey dreary day. El Niño’s influence was unmistakable during a recent quiet weekday visit in early January. The weather wet and cold, with periods of heavy downpour, still, undeterred, great friends treated Kathey and me to a wonderful day of wine tasting. What better pastime than to drive about Amador County’s Shenandoah Valley in the Sierra Nevada foothills, sipping classic zinfandels—originally from Croatia—and other varietals from Spain, (more…)
Bocadillo: Lunch is found where it is found, occurs when hungry, trail side, in a bar or in a restaurant. Where hunger and possession meet, we eat the bocadillo. Hunger and possession. This midday meal is often had in one of the many villages (more…)
To avoid the heat of the day, the pilgrim covers just as many kilometers as possible in the cool morning air. The pace quick in these early hours, stopping only for a picture or two and then for lunch, our bocadillo. How many k shall we walk today? Depende (It depends).
The morning hours prove delightful—once the senses have awoken. As the sun slowly rises a church steeple casts a shadow over its congregation and the vast countryside brightens before us. This time of day provides great lighting for those pictures we take back home, on camera or in our minds. Rolling wheat fields. A village in the distance. Pilgrims fore and aft. We are alive.
(Adapted as a travel article from my forthcoming book, “Su Camino…”)
ALBERGUES on the Camino de Santiago are a ubiquitous lot, many in every village, town and city—from the diminutive to the grand. Whether conversions from ancient pilgrim hospitals or modern, utilitarian edifices, they beckon at day’s
end. Trailside or a short few meters out of the way, shelter from summer sun and winter cold—so very little more, but all one needs. (more…)
Without caffeine, senses still dull from the early hour and the many kilometers behind, legs heavy, the pilgrim finds the Camino markings of yellow arrows and scallop shells in the early light and seeks out breakfast, but more importantly, café con leche. And too, maybe, a croissant or better still, a slice of Spanish omelet. We awaken.