October 16, 2022. At Caldas de Reis, Spain.

Dear Christine. I’m back from dinner. (BTW. The restaurants do not open for dinner until 8 PM and things do not really get rolling until at least 9 PM. Therefore, “back from dinner” means 11 PM) It had been my intention to get some much needed sleep, but then before my eyes closed I decided I wanted to share with you, while the day was fresh in my thoughts.

I had to get up very early this morning and have my bag ready for transport by 7 AM. This was because of a marathon that was to start in the vicinity of my hotel. The roads would be blocked which would prevent the baggage company from reaching the hotel. Kind of like Kansas City, right?

My backpack went out the door promptly at 7. Instead of returning to my room I decided to just head out on the Camino. This presented a really unusual experience since it does not become light until 8:30 AM. For the first hour and a half I walked out of town and into the countryside in darkness.

In Kansas City this would’ve been unthinkable, however here it was surreal. I had to be hyper vigilant in looking for the Camino waymarks. It would not have been good to get lost.

Complicating matters was the constant drizzle that sometime morphed into full-blown rain. I had a significant head start on most other pilgrims except for those who began their day further down the road from different locations. For the first hour and a half I walked alone.

Around 10 AM I happen to see a pilgrim trying to shelter under an awning. I reflexively call to her in English, “How is that working for you?“ To which she replied, “It’s not!“ She emerged from under the awning and we began walking together.

There were the usual introductions: “Where are you from… Where did you begin your Camino…”

Her name was Marianna and she was from the Netherlands. This struck me as curious. Last night Lynn and Tina spoke fondly of a Dutch pilgrim that they had separately met named Marianna. Was it possible that this was her? Yes! What’s more, she knew a bit about me having discussed with Tina our encounter.

After a bit, Marianna stopped for coffee but I continued on the way. We promised to try and get together for dinner.

For me it was a wet 21 km slog through forest paths and byways.

I chose to wear shorts thinking that skin dries faster than cloth. This is true, however it also means the chill goes deeper into the bone. By the time I reached town I was shivering. By the time I was in my room I was ready for a hot shower. A brief rest turned into an hour and a half of deep sleep.

I had text contact information for Lynn, Tina, and Mariana. I also had a recommendation for a wonderful local restaurant. A few text messages and arrangements were made with the four of us to meet for dinner at 8 PM.

At first we were denied a table, no reservation. Tina speaks excellent Spanish and convinced the proprietor to find us a table. Our table was made out of a millstone, which was appropriate since the restaurant was at one time a grain mill powered by the rushing waters from the river below.

The sound of the river was ever present (and pleasant) throughout the course of our meal.

Men do not share and communicate as women typically do. I count myself honored to have been included at table with these three good women. This evening was another gift from the Camino.

Please send me a text message with the final score of the Chiefs game.

Sweet dreams! Love, Me.

October 16, 2022. At Pontevedra, Spain.

Dear Christine. Whatever today lacked in pictures it more than made up for in emotional connections. Before I explore the depths of those matters, here’s the business of the day:

I decided to spend an extra day in Pontevedra to arrange lodgings between here and Santiago, baggage transfers to that point, bag storage to lighten my pack for my hike to the Atlantic coast, and final accommodations before I fly to meet you in Barcelona.

With just a few “hiccups“ all of that was successfully arranged. I then set off in search of breakfast and took a stroll through this wonderful old town.

I visited the main cathedral where it was obvious that preparation’s were being made for a wedding.

For lunch I found a pizza-by-the-slice shop which did honor to that centuries-old tradition, and later one of your favorites, Peppers Padron.

While I sat watching life evolve around me it occurred to me that the Camino is like a tidal river: In the morning the pilgrims leave for their day’s journey, much is tidal waters recede. In the afternoon a flow of new pilgrims arrive, again like the surge of an incoming tide.

When I am walking the Camino, I am part of, and belong to that flow. However, by staying behind an extra day I left the stream. I left Ken and Bambi, acquiring in their place a sense of loss. We hold hope to rejoin for dinner this coming Wednesday evening in Santiago.

Pizza and peppers consumed, I began walking the narrow streets of the old city. I was alone with my thoughts which bounced around like ping pong balls in a lottery tumbler. I thought of Kris, Ken, Bambi, and of course you. At some point I thought of a German woman who joined Ken, Bambi, and me at a pizza restaurant two nights ago in Redondela. She was walking solo and experiencing some difficulty with blisters. Within a minute of those thoughts she emerged from a side street to walk in front of me! I recognized the hair, her orange colored top, and reflexively called, “Tina!“ With a look of shock she turned, and after a brief hesitation replied, “Peter?“

We spoke. She was on her way to her hostel after a challenging day. We arranged to meet at 7 pm for drinks and dinner.

Nearing the appointed hour I waited near her hostel, admiring a hundreds of years old stone cross that marked the route of the Camino.

I was soon joined by a woman who first focused on that cross, but then turned her attention to me, “I know you!“ It was Lynn who gifted me the silver Camino shell that I attached to my earring. As you have said, it appears I am transforming myself into a pirate! When I last saw her, she and Bambi were preparing to dip their tired feet in a creek’s cooling waters.

A few minutes later I was introducing Tina and Lynn to each other, and the three of us set off to begin a memorable, perhaps even magical evening.

The three of us hope to meet again tomorrow for dinner. The next destination is 23 km from here, Caldas de Reis, site of ancient Roman thermal baths that continue to pour forth their 100+ degree waters.

I can sum up the evening in five words: I wish you were here. Love, Me

PS. It appears that whatever has been preventing email notices of these posts from being sent out has at least partially been corrected. It seems that Gmail accounts are once again receiving the links. My fingers are crossed that the resolution is broader than that.

October 6, 2022. At Vila do Conde, Portugal.

Dear Christine. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Yesterday was the longest day, so far, on this Camino. We covered nearly 28 km, almost all of it along beachfront boardwalks. It was quite different than our Caminos in the past. Charming in its own way but no shade, many locals, and many bicycles.

In one of the towns we came up on a fish market which made for an interesting stop.

At another location along the way we saw some unusual stone tubs. These were made by the Romans over 2000 years ago to SALT and preserve codfish.

On the way we reconnected with a German gentleman who stayed at the same hostel with us the night of the fourth. Florian begin to walk with us and accompanied us to our hostel in Vila do Conde. And what a hostile this is! It’s a former palace/mansion that has been thoroughly renovated and is now owned by the municipality. It is entirely dedicated to being a youth hostel (but at 70 years old I guess I’m still young enough at heart to qualify). It is palatial with all dormitory rooms separated by gender. My room sleeps eight but there are only three of us so it is quiet with a lot of room to stretch out. The lounge is incredible, there are actually three of them, and breakfast is included. The cost for a night is just under €20!

I had tried to write this last night on your actual birthday, but I kept falling asleep in the chair. I was really beat and the beer that I had with dinner just added weight to my eyelids. So I got to bed a little after 9 PM which is insanely early for me. However, I woke up at 5 AM and left the room to find a quiet place to send these words to you.

You came into my life over 48 years ago. You were young, oh so young, and so was I. I took you and our relationship for granted. It took years for me to really appreciate the qualities that define you. I think I really began looking at you with “fresh eyes“ on our Camino in 2013. I wrote about it then, marveling at you as a person and us as marriage partners. I began saying that when I met you and entered the marriage lottery, I hit the jackpot. Those words apply doubly today.

I am sorry that I did not come to this epiphany earlier in our history and I am sorry for my missteps, and arrogance. Thank you for sticking with me as I continue my struggle of personal growth.

In the 48 birthdays that I have known you, this is the first one that we have not been together. Yet, sitting here in the dark and hearing in solitude the echo of my voice (I’m dictating most of these words), I feel as close to you is if I were there. Perhaps in your sleep you can feel my mental hug reaching out to you.

Today is another long day, but thankfully not 28 km. I will be thinking of you with every step of the way, as I did yesterday. As you embrace your role as grandmother today please give the grandkids and our children a hug from me and tell them I miss them.

I love you. Peter

PS. Thanks for sending me the picture of the flowers. I’m so relieved that they were delivered on time and look so pretty. Also, enjoy your class reunion this evening. I know you’ll be the shining star in the room.

October 4, 2022, at Matasinhos, Portugal.

Dear Christine. Throughout the 2 Caminos that we have walked together, one in 2013, and one in 2018, we marveled at the frequent, unanticipated and unexplainable events that we came to call “Camino Moments“. Eddie, the pilgrim from Puerto Rico, once instructed me, “Peter, in life there are no coincidences.“ How right he was.

We begin our walk this morning on the Camino with a visit to the cathedral in order to get our credentials stamped at the start.

I walked up to the counter where the young women prepared to assist me. I immediately recognized her. It took her just a moment before her eyes grew wide and she spoke my name. Do you recall those two young women students who were so helpful to us in Porto in 2018? One was Mafalda, and the other was Rita. Here’s the picture of us with them from 2018. Rita is on the left.

The young lady at the counter this morning was Rita! Of all the people in this huge city that I would encounter on the first step of this Camino, how can one explain this intersection of lives renewed!

She quickly grabbed her cell phone and feverishly opened her Facebook app. She turned to her coworker and displayed to him our picture. She spoke excitedly to him in Portuguese but no doubt was explaining the context of this meeting. He was struck dumb as were so many people standing around us.

She came around to the front of the counter, we embraced, posed for a picture, and some further explanation was then shared with those around us, all to their further amazement. In life and on the Camino there are no coincidences.

We covered 16 km today, almost all along a lovely seashore. Tomorrow it will be up early to cover 22 km of the next stage.

Our hostel is clean and modern. Our four person dorm is a bit cramped very serviceable.

The room is shared with a man and a woman (not a couple) who are both from Germany. I am getting more practice with that language, all to my thorough joy.

I am going to leave off for now as I need to try and get this post loaded, shower, and get some SLEEP!! I will include more pictures at the end.

I love you, and by the way…HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Peter

September 11, 2022.

18 days and counting to my departure for Portugal. This will be my third hike to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, this time on the Portuguese coastal route. If all goes well I will hike from Porto, Portugal, to Santiago and then continue to the Atlantic coastal villages of Finisterre and Muxia before returning to Santiago. Over the course of 35 days I intend to cover about 300 miles on foot.

From Santiago I will travel to Barcelona to meet Christine in early November. Whether I transit Spain to meet her by train, plane, or bus is as yet undecided. From Barcelona we will travel aboard a Viking cruise ship to northern and western Africa, cross the Atlantic, and make ports-of-call in Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina.

 

Our homecoming in Kansas City is scheduled for early December.

What, if any of this, is an adventure? What is “an adventure”? These are questions that have been running through my mind recently.

The term “adventure” is often casually thrown around to describe any number of activities. These can include everything from cross-continent travel by bicycle to a weekend outing with the family; from blue-water ocean sailing to kayaking on a small placid lake. So what qualifies anything as “an adventure”?

First of all, there can be no adventure without the participation of the “adventurer”. Adventures are measured in the context of the participant.

Walking to the mailbox is hardly an adventure, unless the person is near 100 years old, with failing balance, and dependent upon the use of a walker. My now deceased father-in-law who very nearly made it to 102, embarked upon an adventure every time he stepped out of his home.

Adventures are things typically out of the ordinary. They present aspects of risk, challenge, and uncertainty.

So, is my forthcoming venture, an “adventure”?

First of all, my travel itinerary is not so unusual for me. What is unusual is that I am proceeding solo, Christine will not be at my side. With the exception of a few short camping trips and 4 Atlantic Ocean sailing passages, we have traveled nearly 50 years together and shared our “adventures” in lockstep.

Second. I’m 70 years old. While I enjoy good health and vigor for my age, I do suffer from some conditions that raise the specter of risk, challenge, and uncertainty. Of course there are the typical age related eye and hearing issues, the morning aches that work out quickly, and balance that is not what it once was. What conjures a measure of anxiety for me are two other conditions.

Since childhood I have exhibited tremors diagnosed as Familial Essential Tremors. “Familial” in that I inherited the condition from my mother, a life-long sufferer, “essential” in that it is idiopathic with no external cause, and “tremor” which describes the uncontrollable shaking that occurs when attempting a task. It is the most common motion disorder known to medicine, with about 10% of the population exhibiting symptoms to some extent. For most people it does not impact daily life. I am not most people.

Over the last decade my “shakes” have become progressively worse. I have difficulty writing. Putting a key in a lock requires two hands, as does holding a cup or glass without spilling. I am confronted hundreds of times each day by the impact ET has upon routine tasks. I have been fortunate that Christine always helps, but she won’t be there to bail me out when I have to carry a plate of food across the room or pass the bread and butter to others sharing my table. Her absence certainly makes the coming trip more “adventurous”.

Last year I tripped one night in the dark while camping. I recovered my balance without falling to the ground, but in the process severely strained my right knee. It has not been the same ever since.

Three weeks ago while doing a 5 mile training hike in Kansas City my knee briefly locked up. I had to call Christine to pick me up. Elevating the leg and applying ice with gentle range of motion exercises brought relief, but residual pain and swelling sent me to an orthopedist. An MRI was conducted with the results, “…a complex radial and horizontal tear… of the medial meniscus… displaced meniscal fragment…”. There was more, but you get the point. I am scheduled for surgery in mid-December.

I have continued my daily training walks of 5-7 miles without further incident, but that one experience three weeks ago gives me pause. Christine will not be a phone call away should I be unable to hike.

Risk, challenge, uncertainty. These things will all be present in ways that are unusual for me. Yes, this is an adventure and I face it by choice. I’ve been asked “Why” to which I reply, “Don’t put off until tomorrow the things you may then find you are unable to do.” I will soon find out if I am unable to do this.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. We each share in common the two greatest adventures. One begins with the first breath we take, and the second begins with the last.