Last night we held our third Zoom call in Belorado 238 kilometres into our virtual camino along the iconic Way of St. James. Unfortunately Sarah was unavailable as she prepares to give an on-line presentation. She was missed. Nonetheless we enjoyed each others company (as usual) and there was some interesting memories shared. Ken has already sent up a series of journal posts which I'll continue to post as we walk along together. Nice to have some new stories, and I think that something I'm really enjoying is hearing these stories. Many are new to each of us which is great. After all, it's 7 years later and experiences that we probably held a bit closer at the time are now more easily shared and spoken about. For example, here are Ken's memories from his stay in Villafranca in 2013 (Ken were you there the same day as we were? The Friday).
It was clear that everyone is out walking in their home area, practicing social distancing. It seems that this isn't always easy, but everyone is making a good effort.
Complaining:
[I] noticed that when I heard pilgrims complaining yesterday, it sounded very ugly, almost obscene. I forget the issue: weather or something. [Was this in reference to the complaint that a field smelled like manure or did that happen later?] And I’ve noticed that before, too. I think I’m noticing it because I’ve stopped complaining--because it seems obscene to complain when you’re here, doing the walk, when you have a bed, when you have enough to eat . . . .
Trying to be thankful for the rain:
[A]t least there’s no sunburn, no heat exhaustion, in the rain. My rain poncho, awkward as it is to get into, works well and it will hang on the pack without blowing away, which surprises me. It looks like perhaps a week of rain ahead, which will be a trial but such trials are valuable, right? Would making it across the Pyrenees have meant as much had the weather been perfect?
After a typically restless night I was up early and sanding part of our basement hallway as I ever so slowly progress to the painting stage. I came up to find breakfast and eventually Annemarie made an appearance. I asked her about walking today in what has been a cool damp day. She let me know while pouring her next coffee that she was looking for a gentler beginning to her day and that I should consider walking on my own. Rain threatening, I plugged in my music and headed out the door. As I stretched my legs and pushed my pace I began to realized that Annemarie had been reading me quite well the last few days. She knew that I was itching to take a solo tramp where I could free my mind and practice letting go. Married 40 years at the end of this August she can read me pretty well, and I appreciate that she can (mostly).
When we walk together it's usually nice to have her company to share what we see, particularly these days. However, it's when I walk alone that I can just let my mind wander and find that 'happy' pace and place where the endorphins begin to seep into my brain. Some of my best walking experiences have happened when I'm walking solo. So while today was our short walking day, I pushed through the 12 kms in just under 2 hours.
Today after clearing out the usual brain junk I began thinking about the controversial subject centring on "walking your own camino" and what that means to me. Over the past year the camino/henro chat groups I'm a member of seem to have debated this endlessly. I've read some of what's posted (though I usually try to avoid too much of this sort of stuff) and there seems to be two main camps. The first one largely belongs to the older, more experienced walkers who seem to complain about the new walkers lack of focus, inner reflection and reverence towards the 'values' of the camino. They argue that the newbies seem to want to party more, pay less attention to the historical/spiritual relevance of the journey and are generally more interested in having an inexpensive holiday. In other words, they aren't doing it right. I'm thinking as I read some of this verbiage, "camino a holiday?" Really? Certain newbies argue that it's 'my' camino and that 'I' can do it anyway 'I' want. You can see where this is headed.
I remember one of my favourite conversations from the movie The Way when in St Jean Pied de Port Tom tells the senior gendarme that he will walk the Camino to Santiago for his deceased son who lost his life on stage one. The gendarme says something like, "Tom, the camino is a very personal journey. You walk it only for yourself. No one else." I carried those thoughts with me as I walked in 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2017. However in 2018 when we conceived the idea of walking a camino for the Alzheimer Society and my sister Kathy to raise awareness about the stigma associated with this terrible disease I began to realize that you can indeed walk a camino for others, and that there really is no correct way to walk one. My outlook shifted that year. A decent shift I think.
It's late afternoon as I write this post. Annemarie has finally just headed off for a walk. In fairness, she stayed home and put together a slow-cooker full of delicious chilli and made cornbread to go with it before pulling out her bike for the first time this year and taking it for a spin. Not bad!
On the virtual camino front we made progress ever westward today as we continued our long steady climb into the Montes de Orca range. We ended the day at 950m or about 3,400' above sea level. Our sunrise in 2013 from the Belorado albergue just before we set off.
I went back to my blog post from this stop to see if I could find a clue as to my feelings about Belorado. I've been trying not to read back into the blog very often on this virtual journey, but this situation required further investigation. I called my blog post that day "Poncho On, Poncho Off" and started it with,
The hostel beds last night were rock hard, trucks rolled by all night and some dog started barking at 4 AM...good thing we planned a short day today. We had a great breakfast with two actual eggs and some jamon, plenty of protein. Then the rain began to come down fairly steadily, then it stopped , then it started...you get the idea.
No wonder I was happy to be away from Belorado! Hard beds, trucks all night, barking dogs. Those things can influence how one feels about a stop. Perhaps that's all it was that left me with my feelings about this town? In 2018 there were other factors, and I'm not above considering that it was simply coincidence that other negative things happened here again in 2018. Hmmm? While, as I always say and have done, dig a virtual hole in the road, bury the negative parts of a memory, and walk on.
This stage while unusually short was actually a very good experience for both of us. I have two favourite photos I took that day hanging on a wall in our house. One of those photos has been requested and given as a wedding gift twice. It was a special day.
We divided the 50 kms into Burgos into two stages with our original idea to stop at Villafranca, walk 20 kms the following day and then bus the rest of the way into the city from a small town in an effort to look after Annemarie. It didn't quite work out that way as being Sunday we discovered that the buses weren't running and we ended up walking 38 kms on day two into Burgos from Villafranca. I called the blog post that day simply, Oops! It was one hell of a day, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
The rain that day swept on to us in waves. We often seemed to be walking in a dry bubble before the next wave engulfed us.
Sometimes the sun would even briefly poke through the storm cell.
Annemarie walking towards Villambistia.
More cheery camino friends!
The weather finally improved and the remaining walk was super pleasant.
In 2018 I remembered where I'd taken the above photo. Not quite as nice on a wet cold 4 degree day!
Our stop just around the corner.
In view in 2018...
...I fondly remembered our 2013 stop here as I passed quickly through town.
One our two spurges in 2013. I told Annemarie to get inside quickly because I was actually feeling a bit embarrassed staying in a 3 star place. Now when we do this from time to time, I give it little or no thought, but on the very first camino there were folks in our local camino chapter at home who had repeatedly said that one should only stay in albergue bunk beds in order to have a true camino. After multiple caminos and way too many albergue stays I can now say rubbish to that! People with a little more coin have historically stayed in an inn or other better somewhat better accommodations leaving the beds in cheaper accommodations for those with less coin. After all, the title of this post is Walking Your Own Camino, lol!
It was a pretty cool place!! Even decadent for two weary peregrinos!
Ha! We never walked with just one iPad mini again. I needed it to blog and Annemarie needed it for everything else: )
The good news was that there was an albergue attached to the hotel which was apparently pretty good.
We met our Irish friends, Bernie and Noreen at the attached bar for drink and dinner. Bernie was a fireman (recently retired) from Skerries, Dublin who was walking the camino in sections with his wife, returning each year for a bit more. He told us that he was walking for all those people who he couldn't rescue in the fires he attended. Touching reason to walk, and I'm sorry I didn't reach out to them as I did with others after arriving home.
Note: we've today just discussed our connection with these two and have found their contact information. We plan to reach out to them and given our now nice connection into Ireland with our daughter's partner Paul, we will be visiting there again once things open up in the post Covid-19 world. Perhaps our paths will cross again? Stranger things have happened.
Late afternoon and into the evening there was a wedding at the church just outside our room. Front row seats as things began with a bang!
Buen Camino!
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