For some time now, I have mentioned dogtorbill.wordpress.com caminowithcullen.wordpress.com (Dr. William Klein DVM). We first met when he contacted me about my post about solar chargers. I promptly started as a follower of his Blog and it soon became apparent that he was NOT the “What I did Last summer” perigrino. As I read his posts, I feel he is speaking to me. With his permission, I have decided to “Repost” some of his message. I hope it moves you as much as it did me……Thanks Doc. I soon figured it out , that he indeed was ‘Not Alone on the Camino’. To me, there can be no greater loss than to lose a child. I will be carrying a stone in my pocket for my youngest son with the names of two infant girls he lost that never knew the world we take for granted.
Please go to his Blog dogtorbill.wordpress.com . Each of these posts has wonderful pictures also.
Thanks Doc………..
Dr. William Klein
Roncesvalles!!!
Posted on April 18, 2013 by dogtorbill
What an incredible first day! My calfs are so sore from the uphill, but much worse are the fronts of my thighs from very very steep downhill in snow and mud. Unfortunately most of the beauty was obscured by the fog and drizzle, but the glimpses I got were truly breathtaking. Walled with two Germans for a while, then one from Hingary and a Canadian. Everyone has a heartfelt story, life is do inspiring. And despite all the falling on this rocky toad, we are truly blessed.
Over 200 staving this Albergue, bunk bedsā¦very interesting; when you suffer together its quite a connection. Mass tonight in Spanish was nonetheless moving and unforgetful, Fallen away catholic girl next to me was sobbing.
Lights out at 10, ip at 5:30.
More later, buen camino
Much too tired to writeā¦
Posted on April 20, 2013 by dogtorbill
Staying in convent no wifi (weefee) exhausted, crawled in on my hands and knees!
No idea where I am
Posted on April 20, 2013 by dogtorbill
Feel a bit like Martin sheen dragging in with a headlight, too tired to care the difference between a bed and a room. The difference is, I just had to keep going because the albergueās were all full; but I kept chuggin along until I got here. Kinda feel like Iām cheating though, because its a real hotel, not a hostel or Albergue. Oh well, I had Peregrino intentions, I think thatās what counts, so Iāll suffer through only having one bed in my room, my own toilet, and hot water coming out of the shower!
Ok, todayās camino lessonā¦
I really really enjoyed the hours spent the past two days with my new friends, the stories told and the years shed ā I thought I was the most emotional man I knew, but now I know Iām very good company. Thereās a certain anonymity about pilgrims walking together, also sharing the physical pain (serious pain, check out the mapmyhike link ā itās been brutal), that allows, even encourages exposing oneās inner stuff, without masks or pretense. Many thanks and much love to Derek from Belgium, Francis from Germany, Tom from Ireland, Laura from Canada, Maryanne from Ukraine (or wherever you said) , some dude from San Antonioā¦. If any of you ever find this, please know that knowing about your own journeys has enhanced mine, and is every bit as inspirational.
But the time Iāve enjoyed, grown, embraced the most is the few hours every afternoon, when everyone else has stopped for the day, and I continue āaloneā for a while. I am not alone. And Iām not devastated with our loss.
Iām not alone on my camino.
No, really, and it sounds like it but itās not a cliche. The load on my back is a piggyback ride, and weāre seeing the most beautiful scenery you can imagine. Pictures could never do justice. Iāll show a few, but most were just for us. Amazing experience this is. And this is just after two days.
Oh yeah, Derek (from Belgium) and I found āthe streetā in Pamplonaā¦
Was mucho fun.
Villatuerta
Posted on April 21, 2013 by dogtorbill
No idea why mapmyhike app didnt work so well today. most of much shorter 6 hr day was alone, but very much enjoyed matt from san fran who lost his 17 year old little brother to a fall while hiking ā 15 years ago ā and his cousin john. we caught up with his parents a couple of hours later, and connected, as if we just understood each other. Without saying a word. Stopped way before i intended to. Because my knees said so. Villatuerta was having a basque separatist (or something) festival. With cervesa. Thatās all I
needed! Good meal, good people, and did I mention some cervesa? Lots more to come.
Leaving Canas ā Day 8
Posted on April 25, 2013 by dogtorbill
Afternoon cafe con leche in Granon
Posted on April 25, 2013 by dogtorbill
14 down, 4 more to go before Mass at 6! Quick break , meeting with friends I seem to keep running into from Belgium and Italyā¦
Annaās place
Posted on April 25, 2013 by dogtorbill
Although I have no idea where the two German guys ended up, I found a magical āruralā (farmhouse) Albergue to stay tonight. Got here so late (see the mileage), that I got no clothes washed; expect to be walking alone tomorrow, everything I have really (REALLY!) stinks!! I think I have underwear, but no shirts, and definitely no socks!!! Yuck.
The Brierley pilgrimās guide says AMA d la Cruz offers a warm welcome, and she did. Wonderful dinner, and since I stopped in a small town (villamayor del Rio) instead of Santa Domingo or Belorado, I have a small house, simple home cooked food, and two wonderful new friends from California. More tomorrow, gotta talk to my wonderful wife now! Much love.
Ages, Day 9
Posted on April 26, 2013 by dogtorbill
I will never again complain about my knees, now that I have met a man with no leg. I continue to slow in my pace, but realize how blessed my life has been. ( pix tomorrow, weefee sux)
Burgos Day 10
Posted on April 27, 2013 by dogtorbill
Awoke to a nice dusting of snow on the mountains and about -5C, whatever that means. I do know what it feels like! Three layers wasnāt enough, so I stopped and added a fourth! Sufficient until it started āsnowing hail,ā or something odd. Not sure if the pictures will show it; not sure also why some pictures upload, but most donāt seem to. Probably something about weefee data speed, and sharing often with a hundred other peregrinos at the end of the day. So Iāve discovered mid-day seems to work best, when I stop for my cafeconleche fix!
So I ran into the two German kids, who couldnāt find a place to sleep that night, so just unrolled their sleeping bags under a tree and crashed there.. Waking in the morning to snails on both of their faces!!! We got a good belly laugh over that one. I also (just five minutes ago) walled up upon one of the earliest families I had met. The guy who last his brother (Matt), with his cousin (John) and father (Todd, I think), who were simply amazed to see me again. This was their last day, were flying back tomorrow, perhaps doing more next year. They had bussed part of the route, and even biked one leg, so certainly didnt expect me to be anywhere near themā¦ especially carrying āmy load.ā Believe me, he is carrying me, not vice versa. Much love to everyone holding us up in prayers.
Sunday night ā day 11
Posted on April 29, 2013 by dogtorbill
The stamina, courage, pain tolerance, and life stories shared with us on our camino is such inspiration that I continue to be humbled. Witnessing othersā struggles and love for each other on this rocky road is also a metaphor for whatever itself should be. To top it off, this German speed skating champion (Franz, the guy who I referenced last night on FB), asked me if it would be OK if he wore one of Cullenās bracelets when he competes in 2014 Olympics.
Caldaza, Wednesday, May 1st
Posted on May 7, 2013 by dogtorbill
For the first time on my camino, we walked with the same person all day, of course, it was my Belgian friend, Dirk. At the end of the day, we chose this albergue because the guidebook stated that the nominal donation included a shared meal with the other perigrinos (which IĀ“ve always found most interesting), as well as a āpilgrimĀ“s prayer service.ā This proved most disappointing, amounting to passing around a bogus candle and stating whatever comments about the Camino you wanted to share, such as why you were doing it. Most others were in German, the rest in Spanish, and one in Italian. Clearly I learned nothing of the wisdom offered by the others, except one.
Peter, who was quite German chose to attempt to speak in broken English, a fact in itself I found a bit interesting. He also did so before me, so it was obviously not for my benefit. His story fascinated me. Distinct from pretty much everyone IĀ“ve met (except the handfull IĀ“ve mentioned), who seem to be doing the Camino as a kind of a āmid-life reset,ā or (believe it or not) because it looks good on a European resume ā something about stick-to-it-iveness.
So Peter simply said he was walking the Camino to thank Jesus āfor saving his life,ā then passed the candle. Well, you know me well enough to know that this was the hook to draw me in. So I left my Belgian counterpart, and sat next to Peter during the shared meal.
To make a short story long, which IĀ“m inclined to do, Peter was a clinical psychologist in Berlin and came to the mid-life realization that he was just āgoing through the motionsā of living. He felt he did a very good job of guiding people out of their own problems, but in his head and heart and soul, he was lost and felt like he was wasting his life. He served no real purpose. If he wasnĀ“t there helping his patients, someone else would be, so he felt his life was pointless.
Peter resigned his partnership in the medical practice, cancelled his appointments, and quit. His wife left him because she wanted the luxury and prestige he would no longer be able to provide. He spiraled towards the bottom, couldnĀ“t get out of bed, gained about 50kg, and contemplated suicide.
He was cleaning out drawers and closets, not even knowing why, and came across a small card with the picture of Jesus and the Sacred Heart image. Peter said he had no idea where the card had come from, because he was not Catholic, and neither he nor his (ex?)wife had ever been religious. HeĀ“d never even given much notice to religion or other āsuch stuff.ā He remembered vividly of how he was drawn to the image. He felt warmth and comfort that he hadnĀ“t felt for years, perhaps ever.
Peter searched on the internet and spoke to people he knew who were religious to find out more about the image, and this Jesus. He started attending Mass and found himself in a much different type of tears ā ones of consolation, and love, and salvation.
No one seems to know where the Sacred Heart card came from, but Peter credits it for literally and figuratively saving his life. About a month into his ābeing savedā from himself, a good friend that he hadnĀ“t seen for years stopped by and told him about the Camino. Peter was at a point that he quickly saidĀØ, āSure, letĀ“s go!ā But his friend told him that heĀ“d need to prepare, both physically and spiritually. And he would need to do it alone.
Peter proceeded to walk every day, buy gear, and knew he was becoming spiritually prepared.
Peter was now walking the Camino as his form of thanksgiving for God having āsaved his life.ā
Much love to all.
Villarente, just past Mansilla, Thursday, May 2nd
Posted on May 7, 2013 by dogtorbill
IMG_4405TodayĀ“s weather was just miserable, cold, windy, rainy, but I just really felt good. It must have had something to do with the story Peter shared with me last night. The wonderful nightĀ“s sleep in a room with 15 others, 2 or 3 always snoring allowed me to consciously process what he had said. Wow, if he feels like heĀ“s got so much to be thankful for, I REALLY do.
I am truly blessed with a wife that thinks I mean the world to her. I have loving, incredible kids. All of them. I got to walk 19 years with our dear Cullen. I have the utmost confidence that our loving God has him in His warm embrace in paradise. I have a great job, a do for a living what many dream of, what IĀ“ve always wanted to do. I have a supportive family and a medical practice that allowed me to put everything on hold while I walked across Spain. And I have a loving savior that has carried me most of the past 12 months.
I was mucking through the mud, with what should have been a shiver with the chill, but as Ć looked at the tracks someone left on the red earth, and was reminded of the famous poem.
So I said to the Lord,
āYou promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?ā
The Lord replied,
āThe times when you have
seen only one set of footprints,
is when I carried you
And then I realized why I wasnĀ“t feeling the chill of the morning
La Virgen del Camino, 3 May 2013
Posted on May 8, 2013 by dogtorbill
IMG_4744
Yesterday just seemed to take forever, ending through the huge (by camino standards) city of Leon (pop 130,000), took over 2 hours simply walking through Leon, all paved, stop and go at pedestrian intersections, and simply exhausting. But I very much wanted to get the hustle and bustle of the city behind me, so I struggled past, to this quaint little village with a population of 3,300. In the morning I walked with Dirk for about an hour, then we seperated, under the auspices of his much faster walking pace. It is so important to spend most of the time alone, walking in silence. I often will play the podcast of the Divine Office to start the dayĀ“s ācontempletive journey,ā but after that generally walk in silence for most of the day. Sometimes at the very end, IĀ“ll listen to Audrey Assad when I am totally shot, and canĀ“t even lift my feet for another step, as her āsinger-songwriterā style ballads have a perfect rhythm and beat for me. Her lyrics also speak to me in such a personal way I canĀ“t even describe.
Tonight I am staying at a rather large albergue, but quite nice, and quite modern, with wifi (weefee!), and pay by the minute computers as well. Four of us cooked, and shared a bottle of local vino. While my clothes were on line drying, haha, someone decided they needed my bar of soap more than I did! Go figureā¦ Do people not care where your soapĀ“s been??? enjoy!
Tomorrow I should make it halfway to Astorga, perhaps Orbigo. Cheers!
La Virgen del Camino, 3 May 2013
Posted on May 8, 2013 by dogtorbill
IMG_4744
Yesterday just seemed to take forever, ending through the huge (by camino standards) city of Leon (pop 130,000), took over 2 hours simply walking through Leon, all paved, stop and go at pedestrian intersections, and simply exhausting. But I very much wanted to get the hustle and bustle of the city behind me, so I struggled past, to this quaint little village with a population of 3,300. In the morning I walked with Dirk for about an hour, then we seperated, under the auspices of his much faster walking pace. It is so important to spend most of the time alone, walking in silence. I often will play the podcast of the Divine Office to start the dayĀ“s ācontempletive journey,ā but after that generally walk in silence for most of the day. Sometimes at the very end, IĀ“ll listen to Audrey Assad when I am totally shot, and canĀ“t even lift my feet for another step, as her āsinger-songwriterā style ballads have a perfect rhythm and beat for me. Her lyrics also speak to me in such a personal way I canĀ“t even describe.
Tonight I am staying at a rather large albergue, but quite nice, and quite modern, with wifi (weefee!), and pay by the minute computers as well. Four of us cooked, and shared a bottle of local vino. While my clothes were on line drying, haha, someone decided they needed my bar of soap more than I did! Go figureā¦ Do people not care where your soapĀ“s been??? enjoy!
Tomorrow I should make it halfway to Astorga, perhaps Orbigo. Cheers!
Astorga Farewell ā Day 18. 5 May 2013
Posted on May 17, 2013 by dogtorbill
As usual, all perigrinos seem to leave at slightly different times in the early morning. One of my biggest peeves has been fumbling around in the dark at 6:30 in a dark room with the other earlybirds, each with their own flashlight, hastily packing, zipping, unzipping, tripping on shoes, stuffing sleeping bags into plastic compression sacks, rolling ziplock baggiespretending to be quiet in consideration for the others, who are pretending to be asleep. This mad dash for the door seems to always result in leaving something behind. IĀ“ve learned to thrpw on something quickly, slog to the cafe-con-leche bar, and toss a couple back, then return at 7ish when the āofficialā lights seem to get turned on. With caffeine on board, I can take care of other business as well, pack in the light, and leave only slightly after the others, except the Irish, who I still seem to beat out the door.
The Germanics, like the Belgians and Dutch were the first to go, so I donĀ“t remember ever leaving with Dirk, except once when I realized I had left my trekking poles in the dark, so I actually left dead last that day! Lesson learned.
Some have a much faster hiking pace and generally out distance the others, except those with the desire to hike an hour or two after most others had stopped. I am in this category ā most stop after 5 or 6 hours, but my schedule dictates that I pace another couple of hours, typically 7 or 8 hours ā I have to average 17-20 miles each day to be in Sarria on the 10th, to catch the bus to bring back Shar, who would be flying in on the 11th.
There are many potential stops and diversions along the way, everyone has their own appetites and bladders, interests or not in churches, cathedrals, museums, as well as desires to take the paved more direct routes, the rocky, scenic road less traveled, and sometimes the uber-scenic poorly marked rout with much more altitude, but rewarding views. More on that later too.
This was Sunday, so I stopped as I hiked through Astorga, I decided it was good timing, passing an iglesia (church) right at 12:00 Mass-time. There was a band circling the town, loudly playing drums and brass, stopping in front of church right as the bells rang out to signify the start of Mass. Very interesting, and pretty impressive.
After Mass, I walked through Astorga and entered what every one of these small Spanish towns has, a town square. But this one was different. At a population of 12,000, it just felt like home, small townish and comfortable, but just big enough to be alive. The town square on this sunny day was full of life, not āold and coldā as I had grown accustomed to. Young families sat at the cafes lining the football field sized square. Dozens of children rollerskating and bicycling in the square, running, laughing, giggling, loving life. This place just felt really good.
And just like that, as I stood in the middle of the happiness, I heard, āWilliam!ā my proper name that Dirk always called me. Ha, and so another improbable, but expected reunion. He had just eaten lunch, but sat with a coke as I had mine. Today would be a bittersweet meeting. My new, good-friend dirk was way ahead of schedule and would be not only slowing the pace, but staying in Astorga. He expected to be in Santiago around the same day I would be, the 17th, but with tens of thousands of pilgrims in that city at any given time, it was unlikely weĀ“d meet again. We exchanged email addresses, he promised to bring his wife for a visit in Florida next year, and just like that we hugged to say goodbye. But it wasnĀ·t just a āthree patā guy-hug. He was clearly choking back tears, and it obviously takes very little to make me emotional. I cry watching SPCA commercials. His friends from Holland, Jeff and Annelies, were swept in as well.
So, I walked quickly from the Astorga town square with that image of Dirk. Why had we become such good friends so quickly? ThereĀ“s that old saying about how long different types of friends are intended to stay in your lives. He had been a great guy to spend so much of this time with though. I wondered if his sons realize how fortunate they are.
I thumbed through the Camino guide book as I walked along, and targeted Santa Catalina as my destination for the night, just another 10 Km down the road.
Not 10 minutes after I left Dirk, the German speed skater Franz, and his friend Sebastian were walking out of a cafe just ahead of me. I hadnĀ“t seen them in almost a week. (ItĀ“s the Camino). We visited for about an hour, the the coffee from lunch was screaming. So I stopped at the next banƵ. Although I had come to expect it, I would not see them again.
I spent the night at El Caminate Albergue, in Santa Catalina.
Cruz de Ferro ā 19th Day. 6 May 2013
Posted on May 17, 2013 by dogtorbill
Those who have also followed my on facebook realize I am posting on this blog a few days behind, because you saw Cruz de Ferro referenced last week.
This was an extremely heavy day for me. I approached the Cruz without really remembering it was only a few kilometers ahead. Something felt really strange. I was alone, and hadnĀ“t seen any of my friends in a while, maybe that was it. No it jusrt really felt different. Maybe I was just getting weary, I checked the book for the next town. I had passed through FoncebadĆ³n, and saw that the Cruz fe Ferro was now less than a Km away. I placed my hand into my left pocket to feel the two stones I had intended to leave there, at the foot of the cross.
I wonĀ“t really say much more about today.
I spent quite a while there, place the two stones at the foot of the cross. My own, and one given to me by Father Tony when he gave me the pilgrim send-off blessing at Mass two weeks earlier. He had brought that stone back from the Holy Land and asked me to place it there, symbolically placing the burdens of members of our church community.
And I placed my own stone there as well.
A while later, as I climbed down from the mountain of stones left by earlier pilgrims, I finally looked up to see another friend named Edward, whom I had also met around the time I met Franz and Bastion. He also had tears running down his cheeks.
Lots of weary hearts on the Camino. Burdens to leave behind.
Realizing I should be in a relieved mood, less burdened mood, I pulled out the earbuds and played Chris Tomlin,āOur God is Greater.ā Sarah Kroger had sung this at HNJ Adoration, hours before Cullen and I would watch āThe Way.ā
I lifted my hands in praise as I walked away, leaving the stone at the cross. I turned to see Edward smile.
Much Love on the Camino.
Molinaseca ā 20th Day, 6 May 2013
Posted on May 19, 2013 by dogtorbill
After such a long, physically and emotionally draining day yesterday, I stayed in an albergue called San Roque, with 26 other bunk beds together in a single room. Haha, what a brilliant idea. This was a flashback from the albergue scene in āThe Way.ā
I had experienced such a wonderfully exhaustive cathartic day. I slipped into my sleeping bag and, anticipating some snoring, smashed in the ear plugs as far as they would go, only to be awoken an hour later by a cacophony, a veritable symphony of snoring. I almost got out of my bed to get the phone so I could record it. I kid you not, at one particular time there were 9 people snoring, in 7 distinct tones. This was pretty funny at first, but after I was awoken a second time, just a few minutes later, it wasnāt funny anymore. The problem was the earplugs ā they would work themselves out ājust enoughā after an hour or so, and Iād startle out of my slumber with such a jerk that Iād sit up without thinking, and bonk myself in the head on the underside of the upper bunk. This in itself was also funny, but not so much at the time.
Anyway, so once again I used the emotion, this time of frustration, to think about āmy stuff,ā in a place where I over-analyze, and make metaphors out of things that now feel are ridiculous as I write them.
Snoring became āthe real world.ā My sleep that night, and the Camino itself was a magical place, but the peace and wonderment of it all was jostled from me by the āsnoring.ā Stolen by the reality of noise and distractions and unimportant things.
Have you ever been on a retreat, or to make things secular, even an industry or professional convention? You get all pumped up, full of new ideas, new knowledge, management incentives, motivational techniques, just excitement about life in general, cause you have new āstuffā to bring back to everyone else, or even to the āprevious you.ā But time, and time again, year after year, when you got back home, or to work, everything new and exciting was consumed by the āold grind.ā
Iāve been in a pretty awesome place. Really. But Iāve been realistic enough to know it could all be consumed and lost as the airplane wheels screamed on the tarmac of the runway in Orlando. By the āreal world.ā
But, I pondered as I lay there, what exactly IS the āreal world?ā The place where jobs and responsibility, houses and āthingsā get the (vast) majority of our time and attention? Our spouses and children get the leftovers? And our āgodā and our salvation, and the salvation of those weāre commisioned to steward are an afterthought, maybe given an hour or two on Sundays? Do we bring our āgodā along for the ride?
In other words, does God (capital G) get placed with my other āgodsā in my backpack, if thereās room and it doesnāt weigh exceed that 26# that Iāve decided was the most I should bring on this journey? No, Iām quite sure I have that exactly backwards. I consider myself a reasonably serious Christian. Didnāt Jesus say we were liars if we professed to love God, to follow him, to love one another, but didnāt live as a disciple, where our works were the same as our words?
So, as I tossed and turned and re-committed (although admittedly, I have commited to this on several other occasions), that being the Godly man I was sent here to be would be, it had to be, the focus of my ānew lifeā after my Camino. I would stop trying to ābring God along for the ride.ā This was His ride anyway, and Iām brough along by Him. My focus must continue to be on my Camino. The Way. The journey I was brought here for. My focus will be on this Camino (capital C). On this Camino, I realize Iām not driving. I never was. On this Camino I must stop worrying about things over which I have no control. The Guy whoās driving (capital G) gets to decide these things. I have to stop āpretendingā to trust Him, and actually do it.
Thatās pretty much the last thought I had. I must have drifted away into the peaceful rest of slumber, even with the snoring.
Today I walked almost 25 miles. I have no idea how I did it. I donāt really think I could have done it on my own. My body is a complete wreck. My knees are swollen and bruised, wrapped by two tight braces. But the walk continues, with strength from somewhere. I thank everyone for their prayers, I am certain that He hears them and carries me during these times. I splurged tonight and stayed at the Parador Hotel. Real food, real bath, real bed. Big day tomorrow.
Alternative Scenic Route (Dragonte Mountain) ā 21st Day, 8 May 2013
Posted on May 19, 2013 by dogtorbill
In John Brierly, āA Pilgrimās Guide to the Camino de Santiago,ā he on many occasions presents two or sometimes three alternative routes to reach the dayās suggested destination. The grey dotted route is mainly paved, typically the least strenuous, but often reportedly boring, less scenic, and asphalt hard on the feet. The gold dotted route is that suggested by Brierly, much more altitude, and as such, more strenuous and demanding. Unlike in snow-skiing, the green route is not the easiest. The green route is mentioned only for the benefit of the āexperienced hiker,ā who is in āexcellent physical condition and who has the internal compass of a mountaineer,ā as he is ālikely to presented with many alternative roads and paths that are unmarked, and who will not become disheartened or frustrated if he becomes disoriented or lost for a period of time.ā
Sounds like me, right? Guess which route I ALWAYS took when presented with the optionsā¦
Today being no different, I made the responsible decision that (apparently) no one else that I knew had made. Without hesitation, I chose the green route (a no-brainer) and headed up to Dragonte. I say without hesitation, not because Iām particularly athletic, or have a death-wish, or even some kind of daredevil. No, I always chose the highest, most demanding route because Iām pretty sure this is a once in a lifetime thing for me to do. So really do it.
And kind of personal. My last trip with my son, time together. That additional time we all wish we had spent with our kids when they (or weāre) gone. Lots of long conversations. Explanations of things I had done and not done ā why and why not ā and how I really thought I was being a good dad at the time. Apologies for those things that didnāt work out well or had resulted in misunderstandings, frustrations and disappointments. And appreciation for being such a really great son, a really great friend to so many, a really great human being. I continue to be in awe of that person. On so many levels.
So, and I share this with great hesitation, because it is so very personal. But if youāre still reading after three weeks, you are undoubtedly a pretty good friend, and have much love for me and my family. Many have no Idea why Iām doing this, other than to work through some grief. There are some reasons too personal to share ā they are between me, my son, and our God.
But remember, Iāve said many times ā Iām not doing the Camino for Cullen, Iām doing the Camino WITH Cullen, but for me, and those I love, who need me back. Iāve been gone for a while.
So, yes, at the risk of some mental health label, I am walking the Camino de Santiago, the Way of Saint James with my son Cullen. And yes, his ashes are in my backpack (no, Iām not spreading them), but even if they werenāt, heād truly still be here with me. And I have genuinely felt his presence on many occasions. In the wind, in the warmth I feel on a frigid day, in the color and the fragrance of the lavender here on the mountains in the springtime. And although most people would look and say I was walking alone, in reading some of my prior posts, I noticed myself talking about things āweā did or saw.
Today, the green route was the most physically demanding, albeit exhilarating thing Iāve ever done. I did post a few pictures on FB. Hereās a few more. Today was the Camino in a nutshell. Time alone, lots of prayer, fascinating history, indescribable beauty. Anyone who denies the existence of our God has clearly never seen anything like this. And yes I was lost once for over an hour. Donāt believe in angels? I didnāt either. More to come regarding that. Much Love
Bienvenido a Galacia ā 22nd day, 9 May 2013
Posted on May 22, 2013 by dogtorbill
Last night after hiking the three mountains, I dragged in at 8:30. Two would have been enough ā it was past 5 as I descended the second peak, and I was ready to call it a day. I tried to take an asphalt road down to the regular gold route where I could find an albergue, but about 20 yards into my attempted exit, I was thwarted. A little old Spanish lady hobbled down the road after me and insisted I was NOT going where I thought I was. āNo!ā she insisted the road did not head back down.
Sometimes the locals really are quite helpful and redirect you to the correct path. But I was quite clear to her (because my Spanish is quite fluent now!) that I had no intention of staying on the Camino green path, but rather really wanted to call it a day, and use the shortcut road back down. She was adamant that the middle road would indeed take me to Vega de Valcarce, and not back up to Vilasinde to ascend the third peak.
Well, to quote Clint Eastwood, what we had was a āfailure to communicate.ā
Either that or she just plain didnāt like to see people cheating, and thought if I had commited to the green path, by golly I needed to stick to the plan. Anyway, within 15 minutes, I knew she had done me dirty. But by this time I was already committed, and it was pretty much just as close just to keep going, and see the view from the top of summit three.
I made friends with a cool dog up there. And did manage to find water. The the view had passed by at least an hour. It was foggy and getting dark soon, so I put it in high gear and kept going.
By the time I made it back down, it ws 8:30, and the alburgue that I stumbled into was the armpit of pilgrim sleeping facilities. Apparently everyone else knew this already. The municipal albergue was designed to hold 76 people, and by my count there were only 5 there when I arrived. None spoke English, but I gathered that although there (obviously) were plenty of available bunks, the warden (what the manager is called) had left for the evening, so I wouldnāt be able to register and have my credential stamped (the passport thing you get stamped everywhere you go on the Camino in order to prove you actually made the journey, so you would get your ādiplomaā document called a compostela in Santiago). I had plenty of stamps, as a matter of fact I was running out of room. (In fact, I found myself selectively stamping ā including mainly cathedrals, museums, churches, and touristas, and pretty much not stamping in cafes and bars ā didnāt want anyone to get the wrong idea and think Iād been medicating every night!) So, I didnāt really think this was a problem. I used my best sign language to find out from my fellow pilgrims, where my accomodations for the evening would be found. Well the place had 5 dorm rooms, each with about a dozen beds. Two people were in one with the door shut, and two others had parked in a small room, only three bunks across. The old German guy was on the right side, and this Spanish girl was on the left, so I assumed I should be social and unroll my sleeping bag on the bottom bunk in the middle. Took a quick (VERY quick) shower, cause it was not only not a hot shower, this place didnāt even have any pretenses ā there wasnāt even a hot handle. To my friends in Florida ā you know the cold water Iām accustomed to ā maybe 65-70 degrees, even in winter. Ha ha not here baby, it was about 40 degrees, and honestly took my breath away.
Anyway, after a brisk refreshing douche (that what we call a shower over here ā that took some getting used to also), I darted out and hung up my wet towel to dry from the upper bunk. I did find it odd that the Spanish girl had two pairs of boots under her bed. I quickly hobbled (my current graceful stride) into town to get some dinner.
By the way, this place was filthy, and cold, and only one of the dorms had a door that closed.
The āperigrino menuā is perhaps one of the secular highlights of the Camino de Santiago (no kidding). It is offered by almost all restaurants, even the better ones, and consists of a first course: soupa (typically the local fare, and genuinely delicious) or a salad ā amazingly a really, really good big salad, with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, asparagus, egg, peppers, etc; a second course ā again kind of depending on the local fare, a choice of pollo (chicken), pesco (fish), and typically a third something or other, main course always served with other stuff, like potatoes, beans, veggies, etc (this is NOT France). After the first two courses is dessert ā generally a choice of ice cream, flan, pudding, fruit, a tart, or a piece of Santiago cake (really good almond flavor). And a drink ā aqua, cervesa, or vino. Typically you go for the vino, because unlike the cervesa, they generally keep refilling the glass. All this for 8 to 12 Euro (10 ā 17 dollars). No idea how they can make money like this, but appanently they survive on it. Did I say they keep refilling the vino? I kid you not, some of the very best wine I have ever tasted has been served from (apparently) a backyard vinyard, because the bottle has no label, but is really, really good stuff. Iām no connoiseur, but I do like a pretty nice wine, and I was seldom disappointed in the regional vino of backyard Spain.
Having a medical background, I would certainly not recommend consuming alcohol with the quantity of NSAIDs (non-steroidal antiinflammatories) reguired by an old fart like me, but it does tend to keep the knees functioning. Whatever. āSenor! Uno mas vino, por favor!ā
Anyway, so I get back to slip into tom quiet slumber, only to find the owner of the second pair of boots making out with her and preparing to share my neighborās sleeping bag.
CYA
Iām really not a prude. But I have kids older that this, and I had no intention of listening to ā¦ whatever all night. I was here for a spiritual pilgrimage, and even with a little vino for medication, this was not my idea of fun. So I excused myself, explaining that I was glad to give them a bit of privacy, expanding into another totally empty room. About an hour later the German guy joined me in my new choice of room. I didnāt ask why.
I was awoken at 5:15 by the Galacian weather. I remembered in the movie, āThe Way,ā it mentioned that Galcaia got alot of rain. They were not kidding. Rain. Lots of it.
Having the pilgrim spirit, I did not complain, but instead chose new attire for this wonderful day. I was certainly glad that I had not elected to leave behind my rain gear. I had carried around over 3# of rain pants and shell for three weeks, and it was now gonna pay off. In addition I had learned from previous days that waterproof pants do drip onto socks, that wick into eventually very wet shoes, so I invented home-made āgaiters.ā I cut down a garbage bag and duct taped it to my calves under my pants, extending over my shoes. Brilliant idea ā until the next evening. Ever take duct tape off a hairy leg?
I waited til after 8 and the warden never showed, so, CYA. Guess this fine facility was free. Canāt imagine why it was empty.
It rained for two solid days, then every single day until Santiago. Nope correct that. Every day until we leave, including Finestere. (yes, Iām still about a week behind in my posts, and I am home now). So I walked another 24 miles today, trudging in the rain, and stayed in a ārural casa.ā
Casa Xato is a working farm, and just plain felt good. I had my own private room (36 Euro, instead of the albergue price of 5 ā 8, but last night was free, so, whatever!), a hot shower, real bed, and the ambiance was just so cool. I opened the window, and saw sheep and horses grazing and the dairy cattle were being led in for the evening milking. The goats wore a bell, the rooster was crowing, and the village church bell rang out the hour. They make their own cheese, chorizo (sausage), and raise their own chicken and eggs. They recently won some award, mounted on the wall, from a chocolate association for excellence in desserts. (Can I just stay here for a while?)
The senora did my laundry (by now, pretty much everything in my pack) for 4 Euro, Made me the most incredible supper, insisted I have a second caraffe of vino, and gave me three chocolate crepes, drizzled with maple syrup for dessert, all for 10 Euro. (Can I just stay here for a while?)
Woke at 7:30 (easy to āsleep lateā here!) and departed in the rain for Sarria. Woo Hoo!!! Shar will be start hiking with me there!!!
More to come
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