I walked with Enriqo today. I picked him flowers and we both wore them. He told me in broken spanish to learn italian. I told him to learn english. I have never wanted to speak italian more! I have a 1000 questions to ask him. We passed the fountain that pours wine instead of water, but it was early and it was closed. Later, I had a great lunch with Mille and Andre from Holand. He has been married for 15 years and the love for his wife pours out of him. Tears came to Mille´s eyes as he told us about her and their dog. I felt very motivated and inspired after we all shared our lesson´s learned so far on the Camino.
If the scenery began as humboldt it has surely began to remind me of Arkansas now. The last couple of days I have walked through pine forest and miles and miles of farm land, mostly wheat fields. There was even a thunderstorm yesterday. As everyone else ran inside, I ran to the door of the alburgue and watched it rain down big fat drops onto the narrow street. There were old stone buildings high above on each side. I knew there had to be a rainbow. So I walked through the warm rain with cobblestone street under under my feet and found a heavily arched stone bridge. My smile couldn´t be bigger. I stood at the top of it and looked out over the small village, and in the distance I found my rainbow. My friend from Quebec, who´s been walking since Le Puy, France, joined me and we talked about how the Camino teaches you to let go. Adios Caminos he called it. You meet people everyday some you walk with for days and then they are gone. You enjoy that person in the moments you have with them without control over when you will see them again. I´m still a little sad when I don´t see some of my favorite people, but then I meet new people walking the same path I am. Sometimes I am with many, and sometimes I am alone. I am learning to enjoy each of these moments. I tend to want to be around friends when I am alone and when with others I feel there are things I need to do. Instead I remember that this is the only moment there is, this is life now. I am quieting my mind to find the answers.
I am letting go of my possesions as well. The last couple of days I have not been able to adjust my pack properly. To cut down on weight I am tearing pages out of my guidbooks as I use them. The hardest so far has been my red travel pillow. I have been struggling with the decision to keep it or not. It had become my little security blanket(kinda like tom hank´s soccor ball lol). but today I leave it and tomorrow my pack will be lighter.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Pamplona to Puente la Reina 450 miles to Sanitago
Pamplona is a beautiful city it reminds me of San Francisco. I sat in the warm sun looking out onto their main plaza sipping Sangria last night. It was lovely. The mullet is no joke here. You see them every where in all shapes. I even spotted several dready mullets. Humboldt! your setting world wide trends!
The hostel was huge with 3 floors and all all modern beds and facilities. Which included washers AND dryers, internet, foot massasge and a full kitchen. And like most of the places you share a bathroom with the boys. But everyone is super respectful no pervs yet.
Enriqo and I have reached our conversational limits, hello and goodbye. That´s fine, I still get to sit back and watch him run around in his bikini underwear at night. It´s hot. Along with the rest of the Italian gang Luigi and Javonni, who I seem to always end up near in the Alburgue´s and on the trail. Nothing like a little eye candy to keep you motivated.
I got off to a late start this morning around 9 and picked up few things I needed and checked out the city. It took hours and I didn´t get back on the Camino until 2pm. It was lonely not seeing other pilgrims that long. And by two I was more than ready to get out of the city and back to the more rural part of the Camino. I walked for hours today alone. The scenery has changed from lush green hills and forrest to more dry dirt paths with tons of wheat fields. The land is drier and its getting freaking hot. There was hardley any shade today and sweat was just pouring out of me. Today I realized how strong I am. I walked from 9am to 8:30 in the evening most of it alone. My body has some aches and pains, but overall all I am doing very well. Except for the fierce farmers tan I working on!
The hostel was huge with 3 floors and all all modern beds and facilities. Which included washers AND dryers, internet, foot massasge and a full kitchen. And like most of the places you share a bathroom with the boys. But everyone is super respectful no pervs yet.
Enriqo and I have reached our conversational limits, hello and goodbye. That´s fine, I still get to sit back and watch him run around in his bikini underwear at night. It´s hot. Along with the rest of the Italian gang Luigi and Javonni, who I seem to always end up near in the Alburgue´s and on the trail. Nothing like a little eye candy to keep you motivated.
I got off to a late start this morning around 9 and picked up few things I needed and checked out the city. It took hours and I didn´t get back on the Camino until 2pm. It was lonely not seeing other pilgrims that long. And by two I was more than ready to get out of the city and back to the more rural part of the Camino. I walked for hours today alone. The scenery has changed from lush green hills and forrest to more dry dirt paths with tons of wheat fields. The land is drier and its getting freaking hot. There was hardley any shade today and sweat was just pouring out of me. Today I realized how strong I am. I walked from 9am to 8:30 in the evening most of it alone. My body has some aches and pains, but overall all I am doing very well. Except for the fierce farmers tan I working on!
The crazy american
What a night we had in Zubiri. After walking and napping, I found a group of friends outside a bar and was greeted with a big hug from lisbeth from Ireland. The whole gang was there Mille who says fuck a lot. Michael from Australia. Lisbeth´s husband Steve. Maria from Switzerland. Craig from Scotland who I didn´t know when I showed up, but we quick became drinking buddy´s. There was supposed to be a festival in the town square that night, so we were all getting our pre-festy drink on. I think they had all been drinking for a few hours and the mood was festive. I knew it was going to be a good night when Bob Segar came on!
Craig is the instigator of the group, getting everyone hyped up for the party and buying everyone shots. He offered me 100 Euro to go catch one of the goats on the steep hill across the street. I actually considered it a moment then decided I didn´t want to go to Spanish jail. After Michael and I told him we didn´t want any shots and he came back with cups half full of rum. Of course, I was chasing my rum with beer which Heinz from Germany thought was crazy, and I began to be lovingly be called the crazy American. I think my story about the longest fart ever heard, which was in Roncevalles Alburgue(pilgrim´s hostel), helped to seal the nickname. There must have been 50 people in one room, and I woke up early in the morning, while everyone else was asleep, just in time to hear a fart that lasted at least 30 seconds. It just would not stop. I never smelled anything so must have been far enough away.
Around 11 we heard music playing and stubled down to the square. The dj was playing musics but no one was out. So Michael and I decided we would get the party started with some dancing. This is when the beer glass that I stole with beer in in falls out of my jacket and crashes loudly to the ground. We just went on dancing. And after a while decided we must have been wrong about the festival and went back to our Alburgue for a few hours rest. We found out the next day the festival did not start til midnight and went until 5am. Bumpin music all night. We just didn´t know how the Spanish do it!
The next morning we were some of the last to get going. We walked the path at different paces, but throughout the day you pass the people you know, then you stop for a break and they pass you. Or you catch up with someone new and make a new friend.
Favorite moment´s of the night: MIille yelling ¨"what the fuck were they thinking, going over that mountain" in reference to the path the ancient pilgrims walked and we have been following.
Craig who is over 6 feet tall, big guy, and Michael shorter, skinny guy are standing side by side and simultaneously begin swinging their arms and singing salt and peppers "push it real good"
Craig is the instigator of the group, getting everyone hyped up for the party and buying everyone shots. He offered me 100 Euro to go catch one of the goats on the steep hill across the street. I actually considered it a moment then decided I didn´t want to go to Spanish jail. After Michael and I told him we didn´t want any shots and he came back with cups half full of rum. Of course, I was chasing my rum with beer which Heinz from Germany thought was crazy, and I began to be lovingly be called the crazy American. I think my story about the longest fart ever heard, which was in Roncevalles Alburgue(pilgrim´s hostel), helped to seal the nickname. There must have been 50 people in one room, and I woke up early in the morning, while everyone else was asleep, just in time to hear a fart that lasted at least 30 seconds. It just would not stop. I never smelled anything so must have been far enough away.
Around 11 we heard music playing and stubled down to the square. The dj was playing musics but no one was out. So Michael and I decided we would get the party started with some dancing. This is when the beer glass that I stole with beer in in falls out of my jacket and crashes loudly to the ground. We just went on dancing. And after a while decided we must have been wrong about the festival and went back to our Alburgue for a few hours rest. We found out the next day the festival did not start til midnight and went until 5am. Bumpin music all night. We just didn´t know how the Spanish do it!
The next morning we were some of the last to get going. We walked the path at different paces, but throughout the day you pass the people you know, then you stop for a break and they pass you. Or you catch up with someone new and make a new friend.
Favorite moment´s of the night: MIille yelling ¨"what the fuck were they thinking, going over that mountain" in reference to the path the ancient pilgrims walked and we have been following.
Craig who is over 6 feet tall, big guy, and Michael shorter, skinny guy are standing side by side and simultaneously begin swinging their arms and singing salt and peppers "push it real good"
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Ronsevalles to Zubiri 20. 4 Kms June 17th
Roncevalles is an ancient small pilgrim's town with a population of only 100. The residents here have been serving pilgrims since a hospital was built in the 12th century. As you come down from a steep wooded path you see this enormous old building that used to be the hospital, but has been converted to a pilgrims alburgue. The town has a very medieval feel to it. I went to mass that evening in an ancient medieval cathedral and tears came to my eyes as I thought of my grandma hicks and how proud of me she would be. All of us received a pilgrims blessing from the priest.
I realized that night that I don´t have to be in a hurry. There´s nothing to rush towards. My friends along the Camino will come and go. I need to create my own pace. This is true for the Camino and for my life outside of the Camino. The next morning I got off to a slow start. Up at 6:15 and on the road by 8. Nearly all of the other pilgrims had left by this time. I walked with a group of 6 retried Spanish men. Susa spoke English and we walked and talked awhile. After a few hours I see my friends Steve, Lizbeth, and Dennis who I met at Orisson. We sit outside a bar and sip juice and massage our feet. They head out and I sit with Tracy, Evonne, and Don from California. Kim from Australia. And two guys one from the UK and one from Dublin. We laugh and talk about marijuana. Ha! I thought coming to Spain maybe people wouldn´t know of Humboldt´s reputation!
All day I had been passing this handsome man who I noticed stopped to take pictures as often as I did. As I was leaving the bar I got the nerve to speak to him and first thing I blurt out is do you speak English not hello or how are you. He says no and I run away. Just down the road I stop at a store to grab a baguette for a sandwich and as I walk out of the store he is waiting for me on the path. I start this time with Spanish and ask him his name. He is Enriqo from Rome. We walk along together for the next few hours. He picks cherries out of a tree for me and together we spot falcons flying through the sky. He doesn´t speak English and I don´t speak Italian so we communicate with hand gestures, smiles, and broken Spanish. I´m in Zubiri now. Enriqo and I are both staying at the alburgue municipal along with many of the people I have met along the way. There is a celebration in the town tonight. We are all planing to have some cerveza and check it out. Life on the Camino is simply wonderful.
I realized that night that I don´t have to be in a hurry. There´s nothing to rush towards. My friends along the Camino will come and go. I need to create my own pace. This is true for the Camino and for my life outside of the Camino. The next morning I got off to a slow start. Up at 6:15 and on the road by 8. Nearly all of the other pilgrims had left by this time. I walked with a group of 6 retried Spanish men. Susa spoke English and we walked and talked awhile. After a few hours I see my friends Steve, Lizbeth, and Dennis who I met at Orisson. We sit outside a bar and sip juice and massage our feet. They head out and I sit with Tracy, Evonne, and Don from California. Kim from Australia. And two guys one from the UK and one from Dublin. We laugh and talk about marijuana. Ha! I thought coming to Spain maybe people wouldn´t know of Humboldt´s reputation!
All day I had been passing this handsome man who I noticed stopped to take pictures as often as I did. As I was leaving the bar I got the nerve to speak to him and first thing I blurt out is do you speak English not hello or how are you. He says no and I run away. Just down the road I stop at a store to grab a baguette for a sandwich and as I walk out of the store he is waiting for me on the path. I start this time with Spanish and ask him his name. He is Enriqo from Rome. We walk along together for the next few hours. He picks cherries out of a tree for me and together we spot falcons flying through the sky. He doesn´t speak English and I don´t speak Italian so we communicate with hand gestures, smiles, and broken Spanish. I´m in Zubiri now. Enriqo and I are both staying at the alburgue municipal along with many of the people I have met along the way. There is a celebration in the town tonight. We are all planing to have some cerveza and check it out. Life on the Camino is simply wonderful.
Orisson to Ronsevalles 19Kms 1400m.
I arrived in Orisson about 3 hours later. It is a small Hostel set in the side of the mountain with incredible views. I shared a room with Joo from Korea and another man and wife. After showering, I sat down to dinner at one long table. There were people from all over the world sharing food and wine. Maria, a 45 year old Spanish woman who lives in Switzerland, sat across from me. She is also doing the walk alone. I love her smile she is very sweet, and helps bridge the gap between the many English speaking pilgrims and Spanish. Lizbeth is beside me, she is doing the walk for the second time with her husband Steve they are form Ireland. Millie is a blond who timed her walked to the minute, minus breaks. Her sassy humor reminds me of my friends back home. Michael from Australia is a thin blond boy in his early 20s from Australia. We were competing for who traveled the farthest. We will all pass each other over the next couple days. They have become like my core family as I continue to make new friends each day.
I wake up to a surreal sunrise over the valley. We all eat a light breakfast of coffee and toast. Everyone is in such a rush and I get caught up in the excitement and feel the need to rush. We will walk over the Pyrenees over 1400m high and walk for over 19 kms. I start off with a rush and walk beside Maria and her friend Miguel. My pace becomes faster than theirs so I walk alone. Soon the sun disappears and a vicious wind and rain storm begin. The road is steep but doable. The wind so intense at times I had to brace myself from being thrown over the side of the mountain. My ears hurt form the sound of it rushing past my ears. The rain felt like needles piercing my body. My thoughts were if this is the worst it gets I can handle it. I laughed took it slow and steady and sang songs to myself. Eventually the sun came out, and I was rewarded with views of rolling bright green mountains, and blue sky's. After about 7 hours I made it to Roncevalles.
I wake up to a surreal sunrise over the valley. We all eat a light breakfast of coffee and toast. Everyone is in such a rush and I get caught up in the excitement and feel the need to rush. We will walk over the Pyrenees over 1400m high and walk for over 19 kms. I start off with a rush and walk beside Maria and her friend Miguel. My pace becomes faster than theirs so I walk alone. Soon the sun disappears and a vicious wind and rain storm begin. The road is steep but doable. The wind so intense at times I had to brace myself from being thrown over the side of the mountain. My ears hurt form the sound of it rushing past my ears. The rain felt like needles piercing my body. My thoughts were if this is the worst it gets I can handle it. I laughed took it slow and steady and sang songs to myself. Eventually the sun came out, and I was rewarded with views of rolling bright green mountains, and blue sky's. After about 7 hours I made it to Roncevalles.
St. Jean to Orisson 8 kms
St. Jean was lonely and ordering food was a disaster I waited too long to eat and that combined with jet lag and a lack of knowing any French was dangerous and embarassing. In the end I had a good cry gathered myself back up and ordered from the sweet girl in the deli near my hotel. The next day I had time to kill before starting my climb to Orisson. I strolled around the main town center, took pictures, and ate the most amazing croissant of my life light and buttery to perfection! I found a menu in English and ordered a Panini for the road and the lady behind the counter was an English teacher. We chatted for a while and I learned a few more French words after being sternly told I should try to speak French. I was trying, but I didn´t even know that she was telling me the price. Oh well. I will not be visiting St. Jean again. I had an hour to spare before starting so I went into a pizza shop and there I met my first Camino angel. A white haired German man who was driving his RV through the French "passes." He had the most playful blue eyes and an easy demeanor. His English was excellent, and over pizza we laughed and he assured me my journey would have it´s hardships. But I would have the time of my life, and tell my tales of the Camino to my kids and grand kids. After a couple of pictures and a big hug I walked through the cobble stoned streets of St. Jean passed under the stone archway and began my ascent of the Pyrenees.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
St. Jean Pied du Port
Let me start by saying the keys on the keyboard are in the wrong place in France!
12am left Humboldt a bit sad. Sad about leaving my friends and feeling confused about how making the right decision can still hurt so bad sometimes. My mind was racing with scenarios where the Spanish words I needed failed me. But interspersed with slight panic were moments of thoroughly enjoying these last moment surrounded by some of the best friends a girl could ask for. I arrived in San Francisco after driving through the night and said my goodbyes to Miles and Alyssa, walked through security and the feeling of pure excitement overcame me. I have 41 days to do anything I want when I want. Priceless. I feel I can conquer the world. The support from my family has brought me much joy and confidence. My grandmothers were most precious. She said "Nikki your living your life like we all secretly wish we did. We will be living through you while your there." Time to go eat some French cuisine before I pass out. Tomorrow I walk from St. Jean to Orrison Hostel as I begin my climb of the Pyrenees.
12am left Humboldt a bit sad. Sad about leaving my friends and feeling confused about how making the right decision can still hurt so bad sometimes. My mind was racing with scenarios where the Spanish words I needed failed me. But interspersed with slight panic were moments of thoroughly enjoying these last moment surrounded by some of the best friends a girl could ask for. I arrived in San Francisco after driving through the night and said my goodbyes to Miles and Alyssa, walked through security and the feeling of pure excitement overcame me. I have 41 days to do anything I want when I want. Priceless. I feel I can conquer the world. The support from my family has brought me much joy and confidence. My grandmothers were most precious. She said "Nikki your living your life like we all secretly wish we did. We will be living through you while your there." Time to go eat some French cuisine before I pass out. Tomorrow I walk from St. Jean to Orrison Hostel as I begin my climb of the Pyrenees.
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