I met a canadian guy who was half way up a mountain in Nepal when the major earthquake struck at the end of April this year. He was storming through a small town in the rain and stopped in the cafe where I was sheltering. I saw he had a t-shirt saying Nepal earthquake survivor 2015 and a map of a 1000km camino walk. He looked like he was in pain as he threw a coffee down his throat and sucked back a couple of camel cigarettes. I decided to ask him what the story was with his t-shirt and for the next 20 minutes I couldn’t get a word in edgeways. The long story short is ….he was walking from St Jean Pied-de-Port to Santiago and then starting the camino again in Bilbao to walk the coast route. He is walking to raise money for Nepal and all his info can be found on facebook under Dave Leach Walksfar.  More surprising is that for 7yrs of his life he was on crutches and couldn’t walk until he had his foot completely reconstructed. Now he walks and hikes all over the world….with some morphine to aid with the pain!

Speaking of pain, met a young korean girl who took a little fall on the first stage up the pyrenese and has been walking on a bad knee ever since. However now the other knee has problems because of the over compensation and she literally hobbles now with the aid of her sticks. She is desperate to finish but today finally asked for some help, so she is currently lying in a hammock with ice and some good painkillers. I have no doubt she will finish as I understand the drive that makes you finish even if you are in pain. Thankfully this year I am going very well, but that could easily change tomorrow!

Some other hilarious people I have met are the Bulgarian couple in their 50s who are the epitome of all things eastern European. High waisted and tight walking pants, fantastic hair and super white teeth…its like eurovision for walking. 

There is lovely Austrian lady called Roma (she is convinced her mother was love with an Italuan at the time) who speaks at least 5 languages fluently and spent her life working and running the family hotel in Austria. She has no problem in telling anybody what she thinks, including insisting the owner of an albergue to wash her clothes in hot water in the washing machine and not cold. I’m not sure if it makes too much difference personally as long as my clothes are clean…but to Austrian lady it was an outrage! She is also impecably dressed at all times…the Gucci of pilgrims! She did say that I always looked elegant and when I walk I make it look so easy that I could in fact be window shopping…so I’m taking all that as a compliment since I feel pretty shitty after 6 weeks in the same 3 sets of clothes that now all have holes in them.

There are loads of Americans this time round too and it seems every one of them is from Texas. There is also a Harvard Graduate that is extremely funny to watch walking. It’s like a John Cleese Monty Python sketch but he seems to be doing fine at this stage.

Today at lunch I met Jenny from Port Macquarie in NSW. She looks and sounds like the woman from Chris Lilley’s “We can be Heroes” who wanys to roll across Australia…I couldn’t stop laughing and cringing at the same time as she expalined to another Aussie about “Faacking kaaaarma darl. Toime and toime again he was a faaaking prick to moieee, so I told him to nick off or pay the prooice!!” (Insert bogan accent here). She said she started the camino last year but broke her leg on the first stage coming down the pyrenese…so she is back this year to make it to Santiago.

I haven’t met anyone like last year or as close as I was to thembut I’m very happy anyway, the people are good and I’m enjoying the walk so far. I’m also staying in new towns and albergues and the best so far was last night where you could sleep in a dorm, a cabin, a tipi, or a converted cement tunnel among a menagerie of farm animals. The geese had babies along with the chickens, the ducks waddled around stealing food and when the two donkeys weren’t trying to get into the bar, they were stealing people’s backpacks. The owner put on a traditional Gallician drink called Camada which consisted of 5 litres of a white spirit akin to paint stripper, then set it alight and stirred while adding coffee beans, sugar, apple and oranges…tasted great but thanking god it was served in small mugs…shit could’ve gotten messy!

Talk again soon

There are more crazy pilgrims this year than last I think, but maybe its just that I recognise people like myself!! Seriously though, if I had encountered these people in normal circumstances, I would be giving them a wide berth.

Example 1.
I was leaving a town called Navarette at about 7am and way to the next town was to continue walking along the road for about 4km until you turned off onto a smaller path. There was absolutely no other way to go. It was cold and raining so I was concentrating so as not to slip or be hit by a car. I saw another walker quite a bit ahead of me but paid no notice. I wasn’t walking quickly but the walker ahead seemed to getting nearer to me and looked to be in a bit of pain so I assumed whoever it was returning to the town to rest for day. It turns out the girl was unsure if she was walking in the right direction and had returned to look for the yellow arrows that point you in the right direction. I told her that she was ok and there was no where else to go accept to follow the road.

As the day was miserable I thought a little company might make the time pass a little quicker, so asked where she was from and the usual stuff…how has your walk been. ..any pain etc etc. She seemed nice enough and said she was from Stockholm…but said not to judge all swedish people on her as she was crazy. I laughed this off saying don’t worry everybody who walks this is a little crazy….because I think you have to be….bit little did I realise that actually was crazy.

I noticed that she liked to have space around her as she walked and avpided getting too close even when a car passed or the path became very narrow and necessitated to walk quite closely. This meant she would walk behind me at a distance so our conversation became more of a yelling competition. When we were walking together she told me that she not like my walking sticks as they made her nervous….this all started to become a little strange to me, as I thought nearly ever walker has sticks and it is difficult to maintain a large personal space especially in the place we sleep. Anyway I let all this go and we began to talk about the little aches and pains that start and finish and how to avoid blisters etc.  I told her that I have a few problems with my hips after doing some dancing for a significant proportion of my life. I thought this was a very innocent comment but she stopped dead still on the road, put her fingers in her ears and told me never to talk about being a dancer because she could never dance because she hated her body so much and that I should be grateful that I had the opportunity to dance. I was left obviously stunned at this statement but said I was sorry and tried to calm her as she complained about how much weight she gained recently and how much she hated herself. My casual walk in the rain had suddenly taken a turn and I could not wait to arrive at the next town where I could stop for a coffee and say my goodbyes. Amazingly the conversation returned to normal like nothing had happened and we arrived at Ventosa for a rest stop and some coffee. I met an english couple I knew and we were chatting about where to stay next etc etc and organised myself to leave for the next 10km waln to the next town. The swedish girl was having breakfast so I knew I could say my goodbyes politely and bugger off quickly. As I went to leave I tapped her on the shoulder to wish her well and say goodbye in the usual way…but I could not have been more unprepared for her response. It was like a violent animal emerged as I tapped her on the shoulder and her swung around with such such force I nearly fell over trying to avoid being hit. At the same time she says very loudly DON’T TOUCH ME GET AWAY and then puts her fingers in her ears as I try to apologise. Of course I am left feeling like shit as I was not meant to know she would have this reaction, but it also made me wonder how on earth she was functioning on this walk when close quarters and friendly taps on the shoulder are the norm. Thankfully the english couple were there and calmed me down as I wanted to react to her by saying. ..its not my fucking fault your crazy and now you’ve made me feel fucking awful!!! Of course I said none of this but just backed out of the cafe quickly and quietly and hoped she works out whatever problems she has while on the Camino….for me I walked off my anxiety over the situation pretty quickly and enjoyed a three course lunch with a bottle of wine thanking god I’m actually quite fucking sane!!!

I have arrived in the Navarra Basque region of Spain in Pamplona. This is the home of the mullet hair cut….business at the front and a party at the back! It is wonderful to wander and get lost in the small cobble stone streets here and be emersed in the daily and night life of the spanish. You get can forget for a moment that you have been walking in the same clothes for over a month and stop the noise of other pilgrims talking about where they will stop next and what albergue will they be staying at. I am so happy to feel like a normal person enjoying a wine and some tapas and listening to people have everyday conversations, even if it is in spanish.

Pamplona is beautiful and the home of the running of the bulls in July. The city celebrates Ernest Hemingway who made the festival famous with his book ‘The Sun Also Rises’. I am having a few days rest here to enjoy the museums and the sights, to sleep and let my body restore itself for the next 850km or so. I hope I will see a few of my french friends who were behind me arrive too after the long walk through the Pyrenese.

The spanish have a wonderful social scene. After siesta all the small bars open and people descend from their small apartments to enjoy wine and tapas, walk their dogs and talk aboit their day. Children still run around and family’s enjoy their walk around town. It is not unusual for people to be eating late into the evening before heading home and the atmosphere is very social and enjoyable.

I am lucky enough to have been gifted a night in a fabulous hotel from some very special friends of mine that I met on the camino last year. I have a wonderful bed with fluffy pillows and huge soft towels and a room all to myself. Unlike other pilgrims I do not have to be in my room by 10pm so I can truly enjoy a night on my own, on my own time. I also know that I can sleep as long as I want and I don’t have to walk tomorrow. Although I know I will be eager to get going again soon, it is fantastic to rest and to be a tourist for a day or two.

The wine in the Navarra region is fantastic and I can eat and drink for less than €5….unlike France which was just as fabulous but more expensive! In a bigger town you also have to deal with the beggars and the people trying to sell you cheap jewellery or sunglasses….thankfully I can just say no and pretend I don’t understand. But I feel the space that I had in France is slowly coming to an end and the more people that begin the Camino, and the more people that are in the towns will test my patience. But that is a good thing too….I need to be more tolerant.

But for tonight I enjoy my space, my time and my wine, and I am very happy but wish my friends could also experience this too…maybe one day you will be able to do this….for me, I found my new love of walking and experiencing different countries in a new different way, even if it does sound crazy to walk over a 1700km..it makes me very happy.

I am now in Roncesvalles in Spain and thr onslaught of new pilgrims begins. Already I see many blisters on the new walkers…a consequence of being over zealous on the first day I think. Many people walked incredibly fast for the first 8 km and then I watched them quuckly struggle as the climb up the pyrenese started to take its toll.

The first 20km of the walk is a climb….and just seems to never end. You reach a plateau and think thank god….but then it just keeps climbing. Many times I couldn’t see very far in front of me because the clouds are surrounding you. But as they passed over the scenary was breathtaking. I stopped many times to drink in the views and try to come terms with the fact that I was getting higher and higher, and the views more amazing at every turn. The last 4-5km began with a phenomenally steep descent down a rocky path…but you were soon enveloped by forest on either side. The feeling of tranquility and peace was quickly destroyed by the fucking onslaught of walkers at the gite…or albergue in Spain. I sit enjoying a beer with the voice of a woman that sounds like a toy doll and a laugh that sounds like the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz…its like nails through my ears. Her companion that walk with her has several dolls attached to back pack….its a little bit crazy actually.

I met a canadian guy who seems to think that this going to be theeasiest thing he has ever done. His ego is ridiculous and depending on how many beers I have, I may have to tell him! Anyway time will tell whether the camino breaks him or not. There are many walkers stiff and sore now and struggling to walk…but it becomes easier as the body eventually gets used to long distance walking and catches up with the mind. I am thankful that I have now completed 775km and everything is in good working order. Lets see how the next few days go, but I am looking forward to a rest for a few days in Pamplona…and possibly new boots now that mine are no longer waterproof (thanks to a hole) and losing their grip as the soles wear away….but I love them so I’m not sure if  I will be able to give them up just yet!