Lots of weird things are happening now, aren't they? Frogs are not yet falling from the sky, I grant you that. But give them time, the frogs, give them time. --William Leith
Friday, October 28, 2011
friday
I was looking online the other day, to answer a question of Ian's. Someone told him that he could claim British citizenship based on my birthplace, and that turned out to be true. He would love to go and live in England. I think he'd enjoy it. The interesting thing that I didn't know, though, is that his children will also be able to claim a 5 year residency in England if they choose, because I'll be their grandmother and you can claim that if one of your grandparents was born in England...
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
life goes on
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Castrojeriz
Friday, April 15, 2011
Hornillos del camino
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Burgos
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
carrying things
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Santo Domingo Part 2
Tina and Martha made a very tasty supper, pasta with what they thought was ground beef but turned out to be ground turkey. We gave the leftovers to various folk. Which was kind of satisfying in itself. The visiting foot guy has bound my big gross blister that developed on the pad of my left foot - after popping it and filling the holes with iodine. Yick. But it feels much better tonight (I stopped and took my boots off after lunch today because I was convinced that one of the bones in my foot was poking through my sole) and I think I'll be able to walk on it tomorrow. I know, eh? Again with the feet.
But really. Does God want all of this? The pilgrimages, the cathedrals, the gold and jewels? How does he let us know what he wants? Telegrams?
I feel as if I have been walking my whole life. As if someone said, "Walk!" and I set off, but not knowing why. The days, although I feel them so strongly as they happen, are beginning to run into each other, bleed into one big puddle of Camino-ish-ness. Walk, rest, walk, rest, walk, eat, walk, walk, shower, eat, look around, eat, sleep, get up, walk again. What day did the apple come through town? What day did I buy the ugliest plastic shoes in the world? What day did I eat the immense croissant?
I forgot to tell the apple story. We were in Cirauqui, which is a town on the side of a very steep hill. We stopped at a little grocery store because Tina wanted fruit. I had a sore tummy and didn't want food, so I was sitting on the wall outside the shop. Tina and Jessica went in and looked around, and came out with something, I forget what, but Tina was saying, "I can't believe they didn't have any apples." Just after she said it, and I'm not even kidding, something came bouncing towards us, it had come down the steep street behind us and was going quite fast and bouncing pretty high, it went past us and I said to Tina, "There's your apple" and we all started to laugh.
Santo Domingo de Calzada
Monday, April 11, 2011
Najera
Friday, April 08, 2011
Puente La Reina - don't follow people
Maybe this is part of what I need to be learning. That I can continue to grow. We are in Puente La Reina. I have showered and washed my socks. My body is clean and my mind floating. This afternoon after we arrived at the albergue I went back to the town (we walked up a hill on the far side of town to get here, which was a bit of a fractious walk) to fetch blister cream for Jessica. One of the other walkers recommended something, and I went to find a pharmacy to purchase some for her. She has blisters. And they're hurting her.
I also went up to see the ruined castle, up top of the town. When I climbed all the way up there, it was kinda just a pile of rocks. NOT the noble edifice I had in mind... So much of life is like that, it seems.
When we were in the Toronto airport, we were traversing the international terminal to approach our gate for Munich. A little Asian lady was the gatekeeper of the far recesses of the wing we needed. As we walked up, she was scolding some passengers who were late for their flight to Lima. She bundled them into one of those beeping golf cart vehicles and they were whisked away. We were wondering if we were going to get yelled at. I'd already had a full body scan in the nice new machine and an intimate cuddle with a lady wearing blue latex gloves. We got to the gatekeeper, and she looked at our boarding passes. She said, "Go that way. Don't follow people." We were giggling, and commented that it might be good advice in general, for life, and there have been a few times since, when we've been trying to find something, and been tempted to just go along with the herd of other back-pack toting pilgrims, and one or other of us has said, "Don't follow people."
I have the guidebook. I keep it in my little bag, so it's always at hand. Tina says the guidebook lies. It tells us kilometres, and we don't believe it. We walk and walk, and then we come to a landmark, I look in the book, and the map says we've walked half a kilometre. Today there was a long stretch without shade, through farmland and vineyards, and I have a couple of little blisters. My feet are swollen.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
I am a pelegrino - a pilgrim. We are walking. For the last year or so, people have been asking me what I was going to do this spring, since I went to Everest last spring. And I've been saying, "I'm going to walk across Spain." And now I'm doing it. We are obviously pilgrims. We've got the backpacks, and I've got a crest that says "Canadian Company of Pilgrims". As people pass us, locals and non-Camino tourists, they say, "Buen Camino."