I paid very little attention to time when walking the Caminho. I walked until I wanted a break, then I sat and watched my laundry dry.
I did pay attention to time when I got tired of getting lost. I checked the map and set the timer on my phone, ten minutes per kilometer, for the estimated distance to the next turn. I forget where I was that I had been walking and thinking and spent about 30 seconds appreciating that I was walking in perfect time to the tune I was hearing only to realize it was the phone timer going off. I had made the turn and forgotten that the timer was set.
Another time I found a water fountain in a cul de sac. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and I was alone; I decided to stop for lunch. I sat in the shade eating my bread and cheese when some other pilgrims came up the path and stopped. They shared their fruit, I shared my food. The Spanish men came by, stopped for water and walked on. My Italian friends came by and I offered them some of my food. By the time I left there were close to ten people sitting there. I walked on with the Italians and it wasn't 20 minutes later that we walked into Caldas de Reis, our stop for the night.
Here I was, stopped for the day and it was barely 2pm. I had my laundry done and the blog post started, Jasmine had come by and we went out for food, I took a dozen pictures of the bridge, thermal springs, and church dedicated to Thomas Becket before 4pm. I took got talking with another pilgrim and missed the 5pm pilgrim's service at Becket's church.
I have regrets regarding my walk. Missing the pilgrim's blessing at the church of Thomas Becket in Caldas de Reis is one of them.
It took me a few days to figure out how to deal with my amazing ability to get lost in every city I passed through. I wasn't bothered by being lost, as long as I kept going north I would be going in roughly the right direction. I had GPS on my phone so I could always figure out where I was. The problem was connecting my location with the map I was following.
Early in the walk I had missed a turn. I walked up a long hill and into a small grocery store. I was aiming for a river crossing that was supposed to be near by, but Google Maps was telling me to walk a mile up to the highway. I stopped and pulled out some food while I considered my options. I man went by on a motorcycle, stopped, turned around and walked me down to the turn to the foot bridge over the river:
As a first time tourist in Europe I found I have an amazing ability to get lost in almost every city I walked through. As a first time pilgrim I am amazed at the generosity of total strangers who stopped me and went out of their way to put me back on the path.
Still, none of this has anything to do with wrapping up a blog on the Caminho Portuguese. I got up at 5:30am to take a shower and catch a cab to the airport for 8am flight.. The trip home was mostly uneventful. I made the all the flights. The last connection from Heathrow to Seattle was delayed. I spent the extra time pacing, afraid that I would fall asleep if I sat down. The flight itself included a child that cried and whined the entire flight. She was two rows away. Not many people slept in that section of the plane.
The flight landed and I got through customs only to be stuck at another luggage carousel. Five bags came out and all of them were claimed by the flight crew. An announcement came on saying there was a problem with the carousel and to wait 15 minutes. Half an hour later two more bags came out. I kept pacing, I would have been asleep in seconds if I sat down. I tried walking along the seams of the tiles and found I was so tired I couldn't walk a straight line. Eventually someone said that the flight was "light", a lot of the luggage didn't make the flight from London. There were a couple of airport officials who were passing a list back and forth. It was the people whose bags were still in London. A passenger asked what it was, then asked if he could see it. They gave it to him and he started reading it out loud. Another baggage official grabbed it out of his hands and said it was confidential information.
OK, I'm not really thinking straight after being awake for about 24 straight hours, but you have 150 people standing around for over an hour thinking it is just a problem with the luggage carousel and you expect them to come up to two anonymous people and ask to see a list of the luggage that hadn't made the flight? Really? Five minutes later the list is being read over the loud speaker. I'm on the list. I fill out a form and am told my bag will be delivered to my home tomorrow. The security people stopped all passengers from using their cell phones. Had I been able to check my phone I would have seen a message from the airline that arrived a few minutes after we got to the luggage claim stating my bag wasn't on the plane.
I get home. I go to sleep. I wake up at 2am. I look at my photos for a few hours then I walk my dogs. I'm back into my daily routine.
What do you want to know about walking the Caminho? You need to trust.
The arrows directed me up the front steps of someone's house. I wasn't very comfortable with that so I walked down to the left, but it was a dead end. I came back and saw the second arrow at the top just left of the door. I got to the top of the stairs and found a path that went around the side of the house that was obviously intended for people going to Santiago. They had a plaque with St James and the cathedral right next to a fine path.
The Caminho is what it is. Accept it.
Pontevedra is one place I thought I could wander around and explore, but there was some sort of a race though town this day. Some of us got up to spend time at the church, but it was locked well after the posted open time. The race course was marked with bright tape outlining a corridor down narrow streets. There were some cops telling people to stay off the course. We pilgrims had to duck under tape, cross the street, and duck under some more tape. Someone's pack got stuck on the tape and pulled it loose. They paused, expecting a lecture from the cops. They got waived on with a "Buen Camino" instead.
This is the bridge you cross to leave Pontevedra, it is marked with the pilgrim scallop shells It looks like a lovely, peaceful morning. Perfect for thinking and self reflection except for the sports stadium just out of frame to the right where a bunch of Germans were preparing for the races by singing at the top of their lungs.
I was glad to get out of there.
You will be welcomed.
This school has greetings in two dozen languages. The teacher leaned out the window and gave us a wave.
Less than five kilometers from Santiago I passed another school. There were dozens of kids outside and two teachers. I crossed the street so I wouldn't have to wade through the mass of first graders. They also crossed the street in a single file line holding hands with the kids in front and behind. I slowed down so I wouldn't have to break through their line. The last kid in line looked up the street and saw me. He started jumping up and down and waving at me, shouting "Peregrina" and "Buen Caminno, peregrina". Pretty soon there were five or six kids doing the same thing. It was really, really sweet.
Should you walk the Camino? Anyone can learn from the Camino and just about anyone can walk the Camino, but I'm not sure everyone should walk the Camino. If you want to know what it is like spend a day around the cathedral watching pilgrims arrive, sit at a restaurant outside the Pilgrim's Office and listen to the conversations. If you want everything to be just so, the Camino probably isn't going to be for you. If you are worried about walking distances then you may want to walk a week on the French Route or join an organized group. Or see if there is a pilgrim group in your area that you can join for a walk.
Bom Caminho
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