Venus behind Megan Early Morning on the Camino
This morning I woke up extra early to the sounds of my fellow Pilgrims snoring. I took advantage of this and spent some quiet, alone time before Megan, Sonali, and Patrick joined me to begin our daily walk.
Walking out of O’Cebrerio in the early morning darkness was just beautiful. You are walking in nature immediately. Looking up at the sky you could see Venus, it felt like she had our back.
There is something magical about being on the Camino while the sun is rising, watching the world wake up. On this part of the trail there are a lot of farms, so you will hear the roosters crowing, dogs barking, and cows mooing. You see the shiny reflection of cat’s eyes running across the road or hiding in the bushes.
At day break we came across this elevation sign and a statue of Santiago (St. James).
It is customary for people to pick up a stone along the trail and think about something they want to leave behind. People do this through prayer, meditation, or contemplation. Then you place the stone either back on the ground or on a marker. You see this throughout the trail. There are a number of people on the Camino that would describe themselves as non-believers.
We walked on, told stories, got to know Patrick more, and came across this cafe for a morning break. With sore, blistered feet, breaks FEEL SOOOOOOO GOOD. I was just learning what works best for me in these painful situations. Shoes off at stops are an extremely common sight at a cafe. The Spanish Tortilla (like a frittata with potatoes and onions) and coffee con leche was my fuel of choice.
One of the coolest things about the Camino is meeting people from all over. Patrick and I were inside waiting to order, when we started talking with three women inside as waiting as well. One woman was the coolest, bubbliest woman from Madrid. She told me her secrets to cook the beloved Spanish Tortilla. The other two women were named Valentina and Laura, they were from the same region in Italy and did not know each other before the Camino.
Valentina told me about taking the longer route to Samos. At this part of the trail you have two choices, either follow the road or take the longer, more scenic route that follows a river to Samos. In Samos the albergue is in a Benedictine monastery that dates back to the 6th century. The church has a daily Vespers service at 6pm, so Megan was sold.
The heat of the day was really picking up. Patrick had talked about the Day 3 Struggle of the Conscious. He said in a lot of life situations, transitions, or changes that day 3 is usually a struggle. I’d have to say, that this held true to me. I was in pain from the blisters and thinking, taking a taxi wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it? I was really having an inner struggle, so I was comforted knowing that this was ‘normal’ or a common occurrence. It somehow kept me going.
Agree with it or not, “The Running of the Bulls” started in Pamplona, Spain. This is a calmer laid back version, a farmer ‘walking’ his cows back from the field to the gate.
Since we were at such high elevation we had to walk down hill for a portion of the day.
This man was walking up the trail as we were going down.
For a long portion of this route, we were in nature. We walked through a couple of old, abandoned small villages. But basically we were committed to getting to Samos. Megan and Sonali had been on the trail for 20 days at this point, so their bodies were used to this. It appears after meeting a lot of people whom started in St. Jean, that their bodies and feet had already gone through the pain stage. That gave me hope. I was grateful for another newbie to be walking with us. My body and muscles felt great, it was just the blistered feet that were the problem.
Turning around the corner, the monastery came into sight. It was such an awe inspiring sight after not seeing a lot of buildings along the way, then all of a sudden this.
For the last portion of the walk into town and the monastery, I had to go into a meditative state by watching Patrick’s feet walk in front of mine. He said mentally knowing that I was depending on his feet, it helped him concentrate on doing something. After a long, hot day of waking I was THRILLED to be at the monastery.
The first thing I do at the albergue’s is put the sheets on the bed and pillow cases that the albergues provide (trying to prevent the spread of bed bugs) and then I shower. This shower was one of my favorite showers in my life because it felt so healing. The shower itself was nothing fancy, a bit dirty in fact but after the long day it was the most welcomed thing in the world.
I had flip flops to change into after hiking. Wearing these, fellow Pilgrins saw how gross my feet were. We went to grab a cerveza con limon and sat with the three Italian women we had met….Valentina, Laura, and Daniela. Laura was tending to her blisters and offered to give me Compeed for mine. I took her up on that offer and traded her a lower leg massage to be redeemed at a later time.
I went with Megan to the Vesper’s service. Daniela was there as well as one of the most energetic French men I’ve ever met named Jean Paul. During the service I was massaging Daniela’s left lower leg because her anterior tiblia was really hurting her. It seems odd to do this in a church, but Megan said it was one of the most beautiful experiences for her to witness. Healing during vespers. Jean Paul saw my feet and told me he would do surgery on the blisters. He had been waking since May 5th and started at the south of France.
After the service I had a couple of cervesa’s to prepare myself for Jean Paul’s treatment. What you do is take a threaded, sterilized sewing needle and sew it through your blisters. You keep the thread in the blister along with an antibiotic cream to prevent infection. The theory is it keeps the blister drained. Since Jean Paul didn’t speak a lick of English and me not a lick of French, we had quite the funny exchange. I had to call Megan over to translate for us. Sooooo much relief!!! I massaged Jean Paul’s calves for an energy exchange payment.
It felt sooooo good to go to bed that evening.
Today’s walk was dedicated to my dad. He has had a lot of struggles both personal as well as watching my mom go through everything with her cancer. I can’t imagine watching your life partner endure this. My dad has been there for me and a lot of my friends throughout my life. I remember him coming up to drop off my Aunt Adeline’s car after I graduated from the U of M and asking me what I was going to do with my life. He is not one that tells you what to do but listens. He is someone who does not waste anything and has been a “Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle” person before it was cool to be. My girls refer to him as Hot Dog Papa because he loves to take them out for hot dogs. My girls also know that Papa is going to take them to the zoo and swimming at the YMCA. He is one whom quietly is there. Growing up my mom worked as a night nurse on the weekends. My dad was actively involved with getting us out of the house so she could sleep. We spent a lot of time at the zoo. He also did some of the cooking. So I was raised with the idea that men are actively part of both child rearing and domestic chores. My dad has the reputation of knowing a lot of people and talking with them. All the grandkids know and expect this.
Mama With Wanderlust 