It’s been a while I know. But in case you were wondering I am not in Paris…but I will be this coming Sunday.

Since my last camino in Portugal, I came back to Ireland to spend some much needed non-travelling/walking time with my best friend Katie and my extended family in Ireland. In that time I have applied for more jobs than I can remember  ( a blog on this journey will soon follow) and to see goings on of my friends and family in the Northern Climes.

I am currently in Waterford with my cousin Kate subbing as a stay at home wife….keeping the dog company, cooking dinner and attending a funeral of an aunt for our cousins….the aunt is from the other side!

She was Aunty Mary Duffy who lived to a phenomenal age of 90 and by all accounts ruled over house, land and community until the good Lord called her over. She was the sister to my Uncle Denny (by marriage)…he being the good husband to my Aunt Mary (my Dad’s sister)…who by the way gets slightly outraged when I call her Aunty….so of course I do ….for the reaction!

Anyway my cousin Kate and I were at a Gaelic football match (more on this later) when the news that Aunty Mary Duffy died, so we made plans to travel the 2 hours the following evening to pay our respects at her home where she was laid out before the funeral and burial the following day. Mary passed away late saturday or sunday and unlike any funeral in Australia, things move fast here.

It was Monday evening when we went to Tipperary to see Mary and console our cousins. Unlike Kate, I had no recollection of meeting Mary Duffy but I am certain I would have on our trips home when I was younger. I have only attended one funeral in Ireland (my Granddad) so I just went into this thinking it would be a quiet affair of a cup of tea and a few biscuits…and the obligatory chat. And I was correct or so I thought. The family were recieving mourners from 3pm at Mary’s house which, I found out, has been witness to 9….yes NINE generations of Duffy’s. Kate and I arrived at 7pm so I was under the impression that it would just be a few people milling around and I would get some quick but quality time with my cousins who I was yet to see on this trip. Well I was totalling bloody wrong…..and when I die I want what Mary had….which is apparently the norm might I add.

Arriving at the house in a small country town on small country roads the first thing I see is 3 men standing on the road in HiViz gear and Hibeam torches. I said to Kate that the road works were going on a bit late for  monday night and we might be a while getting down the road to pay our respects. Kate gave that “oh you have no idea” laugh and proceeded to tell me that these men were actually the parking wardens. “For what” I ask….and through tears of laughter she tells me these are probably the neighbours ….The Lewis’….who are on parking control for the visitors coming to the house to pay respects. “Are you serious” I yell and shatter Kate’s eardrum, “I mean seriously…parking wardens!!!!…..are we to be security checked as well?” “Yes and No….this is normal, don’t you know anything about funerals” she replies indignantly. Obviously not.

The parking wardens …with parking management plan might I add…were there to help guide and park the stream of mourners park in and around the house within the farm yards. As we were quasi family we were given preference to go to the  ‘hop yard’ but that was nearly full and the ground was too mucky that the wardens didn’t want us to ruin our shoes. A good thing too as Kate was in her new boots and they are needed for a job interview next week. So we lowered ourselves to the ‘public’ carpark (just near the cowsheds) and made our way into the house. And it was not a solemn affair at all…it was a celebration of a truly well loved woman who lived 90 years in a community that loved her and her family…..and the mourning was scheduled to go all night!

Yep you could see the locals settling in for the evening of beer, whiskey, tea and sandwiches around the fire. Unfortunately Kate and I were not going to be enjoying the music and singing through glazed eyes that would inevitably ensue, as Kate was due at work the next day…..but I was absolutely fascinated and would like traffic management plan sorted out for me please! And maybe some traditional wailing women too….I want a show stopper……

Till next time…..

I am trying out a new cafe near me and having spent the best part of 9 months in Europe I’d forgotten how utterly ridiculous cafe menus are.

Here on the Gold Coast – to match the predominant view that everyone is super healthy and fit – businesses are having a christmas breakfast party rather than buy a couple of crates of cheap beer and champagne and hope the photocopier survives the night. This is upsetting the balance of the traditional christmas party…So too are the outrageous descriptions on cafe menus for your basic food and drink.

Apparently we cafe goers in Australia are unable to consume our eggs, muesli, or ‘smashed avocado’ (don’t even get me started on that!) without knowing exactly…and I mean exactly where it came from. There is always a longwinded tale about the eggs….free range and hand massaged by a qualified shiatsu master allowed to roam in lavender filled meadows to give the extra hint of flavour to your scrambled eggs on toast. The bread is always organic sourdough or spelt or some shit  flame grilled because toasted was so yesterday…… (tasting no where near as good as my Auntie Marie’s uber fattening gluten and wheat filled brown bread made from full cream milk straight from the cow by the way). The coffee is now single origin from an organic farm deep in the Amazon or in a newly formed African country. All this so you can be charged a kidney and second mortgage to have bacon and eggs.

But really I hope this comes full circle back to a normal menu that serves good food and coffee at reasonable prices and we the customer will decide with our taste buds if it is good…not be told it must good because of the source of the food…like everywhere else in the world! Just like the humble christmas party where you wake up in the morning with shards of memories of telling your boss to Bugger Off in a sea of photcopied sheets of people’s backsides……

For now however you can enjoy your hangover breakfast or christmas party breakgast with extra “hand harvested macrobiotic unprocessed sea salt” (yes it exists) and hope the poor hand harvesters didn’t drown in the sea for your macrobiotic pleasure.

Having just finished my third camino in just over 15 months I am considering a career change. “What the fk?!!” I hear you say, “you don’t have a job, let alone a career to change” you all shout….”in fact, have you ever worked?!” a number of you might mutter…..and yeah I hear you but let me explain myself.

I have been applying for work now for a while, and in terms of my profession, its very competitive out there. So I think I would be pretty good at working in a hiking shop. There…not such a bad idea I reckon! But I will aim high….well higher than my station….and I would like to work in a shop that carries the brands I would like to use myself. …it’s all about the discounts people. But I do believe I could give some fairly good advice to people who would like to go for a stroll…whether that be for 1km or 1000km….I could sell you what you need! So to begin I’ll humour you all with why I think I could be good in this type of job by explaining some of the equipment I use when on one of my wanders……

Backpack
I use a pack from a New Zealand company called Aarn. See http://www.aarn.com. These packs are truly awesome. They are lightweight and have innovative ‘balance packs’ that attach to the straps and hipbelt on the front of your body.  They do what it says on the packet….they balance your weight and the pack evenly around your torso. In no way are these packs fashion statements…but they are the most comfortable. The balance packs housed my water, food, guides, ipod, phone and sunscreen so Everything was totally accessible. Many times I came across other walkers who either had to dislocate their shoulders in order to get their water from the side pockets, ask someone else to get their water….or just take the whole pack off altogether. I, on the other cruised on past without a care, happily drinking my water and eating my food all while ignoring the jealous mutterings of fellow walkers about my awesome back pack!!! I am sure I have sold a large French walking group on the benefits of the pack…as they loved mine…I should get a commission I think.

Walking poles
I am a true believer in using walking poles for hiking or any kind of long distance walking. They help you push yourself up hills and stop you sliding face first down a hill too. They are also good to scare away some rabid dogs, or clearing spider webs and branches away from your face. I know some people don’t like them and refuse to use them, which is fair enough, but I love walking poles and my Mam and Dad intoduced me to the formula 1 of walking poles…..the Pacer Pole…..www.pacerpoles.co.uk Like my backpack…these poles are ergonomically designed so there is no unnecessary pressure on your body. I can attest that I still have functioning knees because of these poles. The handles are designed in such a away that you don’t bend your wrists in a non-human manner like the straight nordic type walking poles. Pacer poles a super light too…coming in aluminium and carbon….you could have an olympic fencing game with these things and they wouldn’t break…..these are a true god send.

Boots
Possibly THE most important piece of equipment for a walker. I spent days trying on about a dozen different types of boots in every hiking shop I could find in Melbourne. Many times I was given the best boot the shop could offer, but as soon as I tried them on I knew straight away that were not correct…no matter how much the sales assistant was flabergasted at my quick response to how awful they felt. Moreover, many assistants did not inform me that you should always buy 1 to 1.5 sizes larger than your normal shoe size. You MUST take into account the type of socks you might wear, and that your feet swell after a couple of kilometres; so to avoid blisters go big. I was introduced to Salomon boots at Bongong hiking shop in Melbourne and sales guy put me in a size 39 much to my surprise as usually take a 36.5-37. This guy deserves a medal. I knew as soon as put on the boot these were perfect and I have since needed to buy a new pair while travelling. I have however needed to buy the exact same design and style which required some research and lessons in French! Not all boots by your favourite brand are the same, so when you find ypur perfect pair, note the style and size.  Also, it is really important to bring your preferred insoles or orthotics with you so you can by the correct size. When I bought my new pair I aslo bought new shock absorbing insoles. These were auper comfortable but reduced the space inside the boot and I quickly felt blisters start….so having quickly picked up some portuguese I rectified this problem with new thinner insoles…not as good, but at least it saved my feet from blisters. Blisters can become a huge problem for some people. I met half a dozen people on the camino that required hospital visits and antibiotics because they acquired secondary infections from their blisters. Some even had to abandon their walk altogether.  This is why good, well fitted boots are essential.

First aid
No need for a fancy first aid pack people….it takes up space and often doesn’t have the exact requirements that a walker will need. I carried everything I needed in a small plastic ziplock bag. I did not use any of it for myself on my long camino…but it was perfect for helping others on the way. On the portuguese camino I gave it a good work out thanks to the aforementioned boot and insole fiasco. In it I had
. A swiss army knife..the one with scissors
. Zinc oxide tape…strong white stuff
. Compeed…but this ia never to be used directly on skin. Always put a small piece of the zinc oxide tape on the affected area then cover with compeed. Compeed melts into the skin and will literally tear the flesh off making a small problem so much worse.
. A small sewing kit like the ones you get hotels…perfect for lancing blisters
. A small bottle of antisceptic spray to sterilise everything
. Voltaren or your favourtite sports gel to massage sore muscles
That is all you need…and everything else you can pick up along the way.

Clothes
The lighter the better…..and avoid anything cotton. Cotton doesn’t dry quickly and when you walk with as little as possible you NEED everything to dry. What you pack is always a personal preference and there is so much gear out there it is hard to go wrong. My problem was I found most hiking clothing has function but absolutely NO style. Anyway I had a pair of shorts, a pair of pants, a pair of leggings, a long sleeve marino top and t shirt (marino is fantastic and doesn’t smell as bad if you can’t wash), a waterproof jacket (but in torrential rain nothing is 100% waterproof i discovered), rain pants, a thin fleece jumper, and waterproof cover for my pack. I used 3 pairs of hiking socks (light weight trekking in merino) and 3 pairs of undies ( ex-officio are the best). A hat and lightweight scarf for warmth and shade depending on the weather.

I also used Sea to Summit ultra light sleeping bag and silk sleeping sheet, and a kathmandu brand X-large quick dry towel. These are expensive but worth it, as they are light and can be compressed down to the size of an orange or other citrus fruit! My was bag consisted of travel size everything and I used my shampoo to wash my clothes as well…..no need for the full facial routine…a small tin of Nivea cream was the best thing ever for wind or sun burnt skin.

As I am also a little OCD, or others might say anally retentive when it comes to packing….I packed everything in packing cells or dry sacs that can be found at all hiking shops. This helped with seperating wet from dry, dirty from clean and the embarrasment of not needing to unload my entire back pack everytime I needed something.

Anyway….this is why I think I would do well in a hiking shop….let me know if you need help packing too….I can fit a small house into a 35L bag now and you will still be able to climb mountains!!!

So….I am in Santiago de Compostella. Originally I was going to walk from Lisbon…but thought better of it and started just outside Porto. This is the popular starting point for the Camino Portuguese. It began with a long day of 36km but I was suprised at how well I went and the next few stages were a casual jaunt of 20 or so km, so it was evenly balanced.

The Portuguese camino is actually quite easy. There are few climbs and only one that really challenges the body. The rest of the camino is relatively flat and quite nice. It is, however, a completely different feel from the Camino Frances across Spain. It is short. So you don’t quite get the time to bond with people in the same manner as in Spain…or France for that matter.

Porto to Santiago is about 250km and is easily completed in 10-12 days. Someone told me it is a beginners camino…but if I had done this one first I would never have done another one…..or I would not have been so eager to do another one let’s say.

I cannot quite explain why its different…it just is. As one friend who I met in Spain last year – and recently completed the portuguese camino about a week ago – said “it’s unique”. And that is a good way of describing it.
Having said that….I met some wonderful people along the way and Portugal and Galicia are certainly spectacular. Again, like any camino, it is a truly remarkable way to see a country and this was no exception. The portuguese people are unbelievably friendly. Not that the spanish are not, but maybe they have not been as jaded by so many people walking through their lives. Much like spain, albergues are available to stay in and the Menu del Dia…or pilgrims menu… is always on offer. This consists of soup or salad…a main of beef, chicken or pork with chips, and a bottle of wine for about €9. Needless to say, I never want to see this menu again…except for the wine of course.

So…in all it was lovely to do….but maybe a bit short…or not as organised…or not as picturesque….or not as…..I don’t know.

But it is not without it’s excitement. In a short period of time you can still watch relationships begin and end. I watched a yound german girl Frankie fall in love with Isaac from Australia…a dude who made the world sound unbelievable to Frankie….and she wanted to follow him everywhere. A Brazilian boy who would rather sleep until 10am than walk was suddenly up and out at 5am because of the two german girls who thought this was a good idea!

Me…I now have a tumultuous relationship with thunderstorms. The last few days walking was not blessed by sunshine, but torential rain and storms. I was walking by myself when the thunder started. It was not a problem…nor was the lightening….until it seemed to be very close to me. I thought…it’s only flash lightening, not forked so what’s the problem? I will just stop and wait out the storm…I have all my wet weather gear on…i have a banana and croissant in my bag…I’m set.

But like all plans made in a rush….I suddenly thought waiting underneath a tree wasn’t the safest idea so I walked towards open space as much as I could, only to realise I was under the main and very big electric power lines that run across countries and continents. As panic was beginning to set in, and the lightening was very fast and close I realised I was completely alone with no one ahead or behind me that I could see, and I had no idea where i was in relation to civilisation. So it was then that lightening struck a tree right beside me and I had a nervous breakdown. Shaking, wailing crying, screaming for help I began to run. Sounds like a normal reaction I hear you say…but picture that I have a 10kg backpack on….full wet weather gear…boots that were soaking wet and I was shaking and could feel my heart beat uncontrollably…and I tell you I was a sight for sore eyes!!! As I ran I came across half a tree that had fallen on the track (along with rain was galeforce winds) and my life was suddenly over. I saw headlights in the distance that I ran towards…it was a ranger coming to see the damage of the tree that had fallen. I waved him down and he was obviously looking at me like was a lunatic…which I was. I could hardly speak…and he spoke no english…so I suppose it was ok…but I tried  to tell him lightening struck near me. He seemed to think I was just scared of storms – which I’m not…Queensland has some legendary storms – but he could see I was losing my shit..so he drove about 500m up the track to the next village. There,  I saw some other walkers, and was able to explain what happened. I got a cup of tea to stop my shaking and shock….but the consensus was I had probably gotten a risidual shock from the lightening – that in conjunction with adrenaline sent me into minor shock. I managed to keep walking with some very kind people keeping an eye on me…but I was unable to control my reaction of fear when I saw lightening again during the day…not that it can strike twice. …but you never know! 

Someone was looking after me anyway…and I am fine now…but it might be a while before another camino…in a storm anyway!!

So I have just completed a 3 day walk to Fatima. Let me first explain the significance of the town before I fill you in the walk.

Fatima is a bery holy site for christians as Mary was said to appear to three young shepherd children in 1917, where they were told 3 secrets. The first was a vision of hell, the second concerned a threat of world war and persecution and third has not been revealed. However, the current Pope Francis is said to reveal this at some point. One of the children survived until 2005, the other two having died some decades ago to a flu epidemic.

The town itself seems quite modern and the main Basilica (closed due to renovation) stands at the top of a huge square where many visitors pass through. There are some who even pay penance by crawling toward the church on their knees. It is, it has to be said completely different to arriving at the catherdral in Santiago. When arriving into town I had to navigate through the reams of tacky souvenir shops and avoid the bus loads of ‘tourists’ that seemingly come for a photo op, before being ushered onto their next port of call.

I would have to say, however, taking a bus would have been a phenomenally better option than walking here. As I said previously, I chose to catch a train out of Lisbon to Santarem to avoid walking on main and very busy roads. I am also now aware there is not a comprehensive walking to Fatima, because I honestly believe it is not worth it. No amount of sins requires this pilgrimage. Or, maybe it will become more like the Camino through Spain to Santiago in a 1000 yrs!!

The way is dangerous. Much of the walk is on roads, so this requires nerves of steel to avoid being hit by the cars, buses and trucks when they pass. The weather at the moment is still around the 30 degree mark, but the heat coming off the bitumen raises the temp considerably. Once you have avoided being killed by a vehicle, you think you will get some reprieve when the way brings you onto bushland tracks. The issue here is, they are no wider than the rabbit who made them, and most of it is a ‘shortcut’ up and down the side of a mountain on very loose rocks with NO shade. Now don’t get me wrong here….I would consider myself now to be a moderately good long distance walker and I have succesfully traversed some pretty precarious terrain , but I was thinking that if anything happened to me – a fall, a sprained ankle, a broken bone, or god forbid some thing far more serious – there is literally no one around to help. I have seen one other walker in 3 days and that is only when I arrive at the albergue where I stay. So in short, it’s not so fun!

If you think I sound like I’m being overly dramatic – which I love to be when the time arises – FOUR people died on the Camino I did in May and June. Two were older and I assume died of heart problems in France, but a 36 yr old man and  20 yr old girl died in Spain from a heart attack and dehydration respectively. That is not to discount the many others who have died over the years as they walked too. These walks are not so easy, so I am now rethinking my next stage. Orginally I planned to walk all the way to Santiago, but futher examination of various guides suggests that to avoid roads and other various obstacles a few kilometres outside of Porto seems to be the way to go. I don’t feel the need to be a hero about this, just to say I walked all the way, because fk it…..my feet hurt and I would like to still be in one piece to apply for my next round of jobs…..or at least walk like a normal human being…not hunched over and hobbling because I have discovered new pains in my feet that I could never before have imagined!

So now, again, I am enjoying a beer and very much looking forward to a train or bus – something I would haved cursed others for doing before!! My high horse is definitely out to pasture!….

And I’m back. Yes I have been truly slack ove rthe past few months but I will fill you in on my adventures in the coming weeks. Also my Dad was a little outraged that I have not been writing –  as in his words…”forget this facebook twitter crap and write your blog for gods sake!” Needless to say father may have all the ipads and iphones one could need but facebook and twitter is not part of the equation….So here I am….

For now, however, I am again going for a little wander….this time from Lisbon to Santiago….so a northbound stroll through Portugal…just a casual 600km but I have already taken a few detours…I caught the train from Lisbon to Santarem (pronounced Santa Rai) and leaving the camino to walk to Fatima….and then walking north to rejoin the camino for Santiago.

So first of all I am completely unfit for this kind a caper! Yes you may say…What!!! Did you not just walk 1700km a week ago?….well actually I finished that 2.5 months ago and in that time I packed on about 7kg from my gastronomic and wine tasting exploits around europe! No shit….I am literally carrying a ton of fromage and red wine around my tummy….I am truly looking elegant to say the least. Although I don’t  anticipate getting used to walking with my pack to take too long, it still feels like a heavy house on my back. Having said that, it feels quite comforting too. …I have a sense of purpose again.

Over the last few months I have become increasingly anxious about my employment situation-which plainly amounts to unemployed…sometimes I feels like it verges on unemployable! Don’t get me wrong – I don’t regret taking advantage of this sabatical to travel (I may never get this chance again) but I don’t function to well without a sense of purpose or achievement. So over the past week alone I have applied for approximately 12 jobs now. I am certain I am not qualified for the majority of them but desperate times call for, well, desperation. All the job apps certainly give me a sense of purpose but constant rejection does not fulfil the achievement part of things…so I am doing another walk…..the sense of achievement at the each day surpasses all my anxiety of unemployment…. and a small visa bill!!! Yes dad….no dad it will not be your problem! !! 

Speaking of anxiety though….if walking these caminos is supposed to alleviate such problems….the first couple of kilometres out of Santarem does nothing for it. The main english guide to the Camino by John Brierley  (those of you who have used his guides will know what I am talking about)…is quite frankly a load of crap. Firstly…..he describes the first few days walk out of Lisbon as a gentle walk through woodland….which I have heard is quite the contrary to reality. In reality you are walking on busy roads…and the woodland is just the trees along side the road. THEN his guide does not include the detour to Fatima….one of the biggest pilgrim routes for the Portuguese people….it as if he 9nly wants you to go his way, like he is the Pide Piper of english speaking camino pilgrims. So this left me with a predicament of having no guide to do my detour and experience a walk that many pilgrims do. (I am not doing this for religious purposes by the way, but walking  is just a lovely way to see a country). Anyway….anxiety levels were on serious alert leaving the centre of Santarem today as it is not very clear at all…..thankfully an old man took pity and told me where to go. Also there is no walking. I mean I have met one French man – who kindly let me see his guide…which included the Fatima detour….but he seems to walk at warp speed as these old french dudes do….so I am totally alone with only one word of portuguese….obrigado or thank you! It seems, however, that a backpack on woman walking alone brings out the best in people and so far I have had no problem navigating my way….and the signs have become more frequent…little blue arrows to Fatima.

Anyway…I am doing a cruisy 21km today…just to break in some new boots! YES the old boots clocked about 2700km in the past 18 months and needed to retire. …and also walking too far in the first few days guarantees some sort of injury or blister….so I am having a beer and baguette for lunch before the last 8kms to another beer and my place to sleep….and hopefully I will leave a few kilos behind too!

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!