Category: Family
There are those few, rare, and precious days in one’s life that can not be planned, purchased, or explained. I will resist the urge to depreciate with my words what occurred today, and instead allow my images to convey the day to you.
Peace Everyone. Pete
We did our best to avoid expectations based upon a comparison of this Camino to our 2013 Camino. Nevertheless, we have been feeling a silent disappointment that the deep friendships formed in 2013 seemed to be missing from this pilgrimage…. until today.
Before today we had speculated that not staying in more Albergues might be the reason, or… the weather… or the route…
What we failed to consider is that it takes time for relationships to form, interconnect, and then coalesce into a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. It was so in 2013, and that became apparent to us today, 11 days into the Camino. The difference is not when the relationships crystallized, but that we still had over 20 days ahead of us in 2013, whereas in 2018 we are just 50 km from Santiago after 11 days on this journey.
The day began cold and overcast with a threat of rain. Soon the sky began to clear and as if on cue, a “family” formed from the random Perigrinos who had stopped at a rural cafe. Everyone seemed to know someone who knew someone… until a degree of separation connected everyone on this Camino. It was a sudden and very moving experience!
A random comment to us from a Canadian couple turned into a nonstop conversation that seemed to transport us across 10 kilometers in the blink of an eye. Tom and Nanci were our doppelgängers from Ottawa. Each topic revealed a new thing or experience that we had in common. It was uncanny.
We joined them, along with Irene from Switzerland, for dinner this evening. We will be staying at the same Casa Rural the night before we enter Santiago and we look forward to more time together with them.
The lesson continues to be that there can be no disappointments if there are no expectations. Additionally, focusing on expectations may prevent one from appreciating the unexpected.
The weather report for Santiago tomorrow is a low temperature of 3c (30’s Fahrenheit) with a threat of snow flurries! The relationship report is sunny, warm, and not a cloud in sight.
Peace Everyone! Pete
After a long and difficult walk we entered the old central district of Pontevedra. We bypassed all the Pilgrim Albergues and entered the first “upscale” hotel we encountered. Approaching the reception desk I asked the clerk if there were any rooms available. With an apologetic look she replied in heavily accented English, “Yes, but the cost is 85 euros.” The manner of her response struck both of us as strange, but I said yes and we registered for 2 nights.
When we got to our room I came to understand the reason for the hotel clerk’s reaction. Looking in the mirror I saw Peter Schloss, homeless person. After more than a week on the Camino, Perigrinos tend to have “a certain look”. The skin becomes tanned and weather-worn, clothing is a bit rumpled and has accumulated a variety of stains, shaving has become optional, the hair is a bit shaggy… perhaps the only thing distinguishing a pilgrim from some who are truly homeless is the scallop shell that most pilgrims wear.
It is Sunday and getting laundry done would be a good thing. Unfortunately, this hotel charges by the item… 3 euros for a shirt, 2.50 for trousers, 1 euro for socks. At that rate it would cost more than our clothing is worth. Typically, laundry can be done at a self-serve, or Albergue for between 5 and 10 euros for a large load. It looks like we will delay washing clothes for another day or two. Any longer and my clothes will begin walking on their own.
The Perigrina Church is just around the corner from us. It is a stunning and unusual design constructed in 1778 with a floor plan in the shape of a scallop shell. We plan on attending the Pilgrim’s Mass today.
(Update: We attended 1 pm Mass. Most Peregrinos are walking toward Santiago, but we are happy to sit out this cold, wet, dreary day. Mass was in Spanish and attended largely by locals. I may not understand the language but I am moved by the shared spirituality.)
We have exchanged messages with Irene and Manuela, our friends from Switzerland. We look forward to dinner with them this evening at a restaurant recommended by our good friend Kris who we met on the Camino in 2013. It is the gift of the Camino that it intertwines lives in beautiful and unexpected ways.
We are less than 100 km (60 miles) from Santiago. The significance is 2 fold: One must walk the last 100 km as a continuous journey in order to receive a Compostela (certificate of completion). Thus the second significance is that many Pilgrims who travel with arranged groups begin their Camino just beyond the 100 km point. The path becomes more populated and the risk of fully occupied Albergues and alternative accommodations increases.
Tomorrow is a 22+ km day. Given the concerns of the distance, Christine’s stamina, the predicted rain, and the risk of full accommodations, we have made a reservation at a pension in Caldas de Reis and arranged for transport of our packs. We estimate that we will arrive in Santiago on May 3rd or 4th.
Peace Everyone. Pete
In prudent deference to the sunny and unseasonably hot weather (mid-80’s) I saw Christine off on a local bus to Ponte de Lima and walked the 18 km solo. It is a different experience for me, walking with her and solo… not better not worse, just different.
When we walk together, I talk, a lot. It’s stream of consciousness stuff, but having been married over 40 years means we often share the same “stream”. While it does qualify as a dialogue, I do most of the talking and she patiently listens, adding her valuable “2 cents” whenever she cares to.
As a solo walker I tend to turn inward and let the rhythm of my footfalls lull me into meditative contemplation. My feet have a destination, but my thoughts seem aimless. At times they are directed to the silly:
…Portugal like Spain is an eco conscious nation where the men’s toilet lights are frequently on motion timers… set for 30 year old bladders. Invariably I end up waving frantically with my “free hand” to re-trigger the lights back on! (Image thankfully omitted)
Then there are the more serious musings:
…What great nation in history has ever remained on the pinnacle of the world stage after surrendering to the siren song of xenophobia and isolationism?
We walk ever looking for the yellow arrows that give direction to the Camino. For the first couple of days this is intentional, but it becomes subconscious with the passage of time and distance. The active consideration of the markers returns to my attention when some inner voice says, “Hey, it’s been a while since you saw the last one.”
6 hours after Christine and I parted I near Ponte de Lima. We have communicated by text so I know that she has secured an upper room in an old Pensione that overlooks a town square that dates back to the time of the Romans. I see later that the room is timeworn but clean and comfortable. (I’m just timeworn, but a shower might put me on par with the room) S. Joan charges 35 euros (no breakfast) for the two of us.
I arrive in town, the mercury having gone north of 85 degrees F. Christine waits for me riverside at an outdoor cafe. Along with her smile she has bread, cheese, and a cold beer with my name on it.
Peace Everyone! Pete
PS. Christine has a well founded concern that our timetable to arrive in Santiago does not allow enough time to assure that she can walk the last 120 km. Therefore, we have transported ahead to Valenca at the northernmost point of the Camino before it enters Spain. This puts a day “in the bank” and gives us a safe margin of 9 days to cover the last 120 km.
We leave Porto in the morning to begin walking the 250 km Portuguese route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. This was our first visit to Porto (hopefully not our last!) but not our first connection to this beautiful place.
In 1991 Christine and I were in London, staying at a quaint brownstone B&B in the heart of the city on Gower Street. We had become friends with Teresa who was a staff person from Porto, and her visiting sister, Isabelle, also from Porto. Isabelle had brought her 10 year old son to London for continuing treatment of a life threatening condition, a growth in his throat that was restricting his esophagus. Doctors were investigating therapies before electing for a potentially dangerous surgery.
Guests were typically not allowed in the kitchen or garden of the B&B, but we became the exception. One evening we were treated to glasses of the excellent Port wine that Isabelle had brought from home, the four of us were exchanging stories and gratitude for the lives we had been given to date. It was one of those times that one comes to appreciate how much we are all alike across the globe. Teresa suggested that we all go to dinner the following evening at a local Greek restaurant, one of her favorites.
The next night we walked, arm-in-arm to dinner. The restaurant was alive with patrons speaking a number of foreign languages… our “America English” may well have been considered “foreign” by the Brits in attendance!
In the midst of the celebration Teresa let out a scream. A thief had grabbed her purse and was making a fast run to the street. Reflexively, I took pursuit and caught him just outside the restaurant. A physical confrontation ensued. I ducked a punch and succeeded in wrestling the purse away from him. He then ran off as other patrons were coming to lend assistance. Teresa and Isabelle were grateful, the restaurant owner thanked me and expressed his relief that I was unhurt. It was at that moment that I learned from the owner and other patrons that the fist that I ducked had held a knife.
Sadly, we lost touch with Isabelle and Teresa. I have wondered over the years about them and Isabelle’s son. Some stories are just destined to remain unfinished.
Peace Everyone. Pete