El Camino, pt. III

My apologies for not sharing more sooner; yesterday I was in Granada and today I went to a little pueblo called Villaharta with a friend of my host family. It's obvious that things here have been very occupied in the most wonderful way possible. I'm traveling to Malta on Wednesday, and later this month I'm going to London as well. Budget airlines are really a beautiful thing.

Here are some photos from the third day of my Camino. I walked through Arzúa and stopped for the night in a town called Pedrouzo, which was not my favorite place at all, maybe in part because it was a very long day and I was exhausted upon my arrival. There were also a ton of cows along this stretch, which is saying something considering that I'm from the Midwest and have seen my share of cows.

As always, I walked with several friendly people, among them a very kind Galician couple named Pablo and Paola, both of whom are university professors. They humored my bad Spanish, and Paola practiced her English with me too. Later I met two middle-aged Valencian couples who took photos with me and asked me lots of questions about why I was walking alone and whether it felt unsafe. Mariteresa, who was very maternal and caring, told me that I had to return to Spain to work when I graduate, because she said she was sure that I could find work with my English skills. It's very likely she was just being friendly, but it's a nice thought.

When I got to Pedrouzo, I also discovered some crazy bloodstains in my shoes and felt really cool. But you probably didn't need to know that.

Fifty kilometers to go

There was a missionary here giving out wax stamps

"It's easy!"

I really liked these colors

One of hundreds of cows along the way

Twenty-five kilometers to go

A plague of eucalyptus trees

El Camino, pt. II

Day two of the Camino.

I left my albergue around 8:00 a.m. and walked to Melide, which (according to Google Maps) was about 25 kilometers. I started out by myself before a very kind German man named Markus joined me. He told me about how he's been walking the Camino in segments for a few years now, and that he began after his wife of twenty-five years told him that she wanted to leave him to move to New York. He said that he was unsure how to repair his relationship with god, as he understood god, because he felt as though he was committing a huge act of betrayal by breaking the vows he'd made with his wife. He told me that his wife had been the only woman he'd ever courted and that he had no idea how to go forward, until he met his current girlfriend, who also lives in his town. Markus also told me that he was unsure whether he would still be received in his Catholic church after his divorce was finalized, but that the priest had told him he would do everything he could to keep him in the community.

He also told me a lot of other stuff about his work and his family, but I was most compelled by his openness, especially with regards to religion. After speaking with him, I couldn't help but feel a little upset; he told me about everything he does for his church, and how strongly he believes in god and the church, but simply because his partner wants a new life he may no longer be welcome there. That seemed very unfair to me, but when I asked him how he felt about having to possibly leave, he simply said that it was a matter of optimistic perspective, that he would find a new Protestant church and put his heart into it in the same way he had before. And he appeared entirely content with the whole thing.

Speaking to Markus helped me consider the importance of individual beliefs. I did the Camino for a lot of reasons, some of them spiritual, but meeting people like Markus and having very authentic and meaningful conversations was by far one of the most divine experiences of the whole thing. I definitely feel more confident in my beliefs now than I did before; I don't think they've changed much. I believe to the core of my being that people are inherently good and that the world is an incredible place full of opportunities and chances. If one is fortunate enough to be able to see that and chase that, free of unwanted commitments but surrounded by people she loves, I think that life can be a very beautiful thing indeed.

So that was the day. I could write forever, but I'll spare you by summarizing that I met lots of very open people and ended the day eating pulpo (octopus) in Melide. It was pretty chewy, but recommended.

Palas de Rei

The cows of the Camino

Melide

El Camino, pt. I

So, here's the lowdown on my first night in Sarria and the first day of the Camino. If you want to skip ahead to the pictures, please do; most of the stuff below is jejune little observations about the variously compelling people I met along the way.

On the train to Sarria, I sat next to a very kind member of the Civil Guard. He had a hilariously repetitive name which I won't publish for considerations of privacy, but it was more or less the Spanish equivalent of being named William Williams or something like that. Either way, he was very friendly and told me a lot about how the public perceives the civil guard (in short, very badly), what he thinks of Spanish culture (in short, it has some problems) and how he would like to move to Germany one day to live a more efficient and respectful life.

When our train arrived at the station in Sarria, I noticed another American and flagged her down. She and a friend of hers are studying abroad in Ireland this semester and they decided to do the Camino during Holy Week. Since we were both alone, we decided to spend the first night and day together, and her friend joined us the first morning. I wanted to walk the whole way with them, but we ended up getting separated on Wednesday night when an albergue refused to accept a photocopy of my passport as proper identification. We met some interesting people during the day, though.

There was Wilhelm, a seventy-four year-old German man who was on his fourteenth Camino. He began in (I believe) Saint Guilhelm, France, and had been walking for about a month. He told us that he had two daughters of whom he was very proud, but that his life has also been unlucky. When I asked him to elaborate, he said something along the lines of, "I have had little luck with my women friends" before finishing his beer and going back on the road.

I also met some awesome Spaniards and a Spanish-speaking Englishman on the first night in the albergue (a little inn for pilgrims). We talked everything from blisters to Spain's political climate to the economic crisis to Spanish poetry. Though I certainly didn't understand every word, it was very empowering to feel so in-control of my linguistic abilities, and it made me want to work even harder to improve my Castilian so that maybe one day I can learn other languages as well.

As for the Camino itself, Wednesday was a long day; I think we left from Sarria around 8:00 a.m. and I arrived in my albergue, Casa Molar, around 6:30 p.m. I walked about 35 kilometers because I wanted to start off strong with my fresh feet, but I was definitely aching by the end of it. The shower I took that night was one of the best I think I've ever had, and it wasn't even a particularly fancy shower or anything. I simply felt as though I'd earned the aches and pains through working toward a really cool goal.

I apologize for not writing something more linear or concise, but what matters is that I took lots of photos, right?

Peregrinos on horseback, Sarria

The first of many river/stream/brook photos

Sarria at night, from the hill near our albergue, which was also a functioning monastery

There was an ostrich on the trail

Portomarín

The Belesar Reservoir from the bridge to Portomarín

High in the hills after Portomarín

Day's end (nearly)

Galicia

I just got back to Córdoba from Galicia this evening. There is far too much to say, and my mind is all sorts of scattered, and I still have to do quite a bit to prepare for school tomorrow. Regardless, here is a brief overview, in list form, because who doesn't love a good list?

Galicia: Notes and Stuff

• The general Camino I took ended up being around 115 kilometers, over the course of four days:
• On Wednesday I walked from Sarria to an albergue between Portomarín and Palas de Rei, about 35 km
• On Thursday I walked to Melide, about 20 km
• On Friday I walked to Pedrouzo, about 35 km
• On Saturday I got to Santiago, about 20 km
• And yesterday (Monday) I went to lots of places on the Galician coast, but more or less from Baroña to Finisterre
• Galicia is a lot like a fairytale land that can't really be real but is
• The people are extremely friendly, both the peregrinos and the inhabitants
• I made some incredibly impressive and cool new friends from all over the map
• There were some of the most unforgettable vistas I think I've seen in a long time, and predict that this past week will be in my memory for a very long time
• I feel the most peaceful, calm, and content that I have in a very long time

Here is a map of Galicia for reference and for kicks:

A lot of people say things like, "The Camino changed my life." This seems like a senseless statement to me--everything anyone does changes her life by virtue of having been an experience that she had not had before in that moment. One is constantly adding to her life simply by virtue of being alive. Despite this, though it's early to say, I think it's very possible that the Camino altered my perspective somehow. It was liberating, intoxicating, exciting, and so many other adjectives. It was an opportunity to walk alone and reflect for a week, whilst meeting tons of people along the way, all of whom are moving to the same place for completely different and personal reasons. I thought, looked, and listened a lot. And I think, despite the blood-stained tennis shoes and silver-dollar sized blisters (I'm sorry if you're squeamish, but I feel tough), my mind is stronger for the experience.

But professors and future employers are not as interested in my emotional tranquility, so I should return to my classwork for now. I have lots of photos to sort through, but I'll share many more tidbits about the Camino in the coming week.

Roll Away the Stone

El Camino auto-post number six: Today is Easter Sunday, and perhaps I've made it to Santiago de Compostela by now. If that's true, I'll be coming home to Córdoba by Tuesday evening! If it's not true, I'm in trouble, because my returning train ticket is from Santiago.

My friend Molly, who happens to be one of the most fascinating, thoughtful, and intelligent people I've ever met, made me a mix CD for my birthday in junior high. This song was on it, and I still listen to it regularly.  The video below is dubbed but enjoyable, if only for Ian Hunter's hair.

-"Roll Away the Stone" by Mott the Hoople (1974)

Alphabet City Is Haunted

El Camino auto-post number five: Today I might be in Amenal. I hope that I'm in Amenal.

Because I don't want to post any photos from any of my recent trips without elaborating on them a bit, here are a few photos I took in Tompkins Square Park in Alphabet City, N.Y.C., in August of 2013.

Maybe the best model I've ever had

This couple was doing something acrobatic and it was very fun to watch

Letter to a Frozen Peas Manufacturer

El Camino auto-post number four: Today I'm (hopefully) in Arzua.

Below is a very short story by the writer Lydia Davis, who's made a living writing wonderfully unusual and (very short) stories.

"Letter to a Frozen Peas Manufacturer"

Dear Frozen Peas Manufacturer,

We are writing to you because we feel that the peas illustrated on your package of frozen peas are a most unattractive color. We are referring to the 16 oz. plastic package that shows three or four pods, one of them split open, with peas rolling out near them. The peas are a dull yellow green, more the color of pea soup than fresh peas and nothing like the actual color of your peas, which are a nice bright dark green. The depicted peas are, moreover, about three times the size of the actual peas inside the package, which, together with their dull color, makes them even less appealing—they appear to be past their maturity and mealy in texture. Additionally, the color of your illustrated peas contrasts poorly with the color of the lettering and other decoration on your package, which is an almost harsh neon green. We have compared your depiction of peas to that of other frozen peas packages and yours is by far the least appealing. Most food manufacturers depict food on their packaging that is more attractive than the food inside and therefore deceptive. You are doing the opposite: you are falsely representing your peas as less attractive than they actually are. We enjoy your peas and do not want your business to suffer. Please reconsider your art.

Yours sincerely.

 -From Can't and Won't by Lydia Davis (2014)

Running Scared

El Camino auto-post number three: Today I'm probably in Palas de Rei.

This is perhaps one of the saddest songs I've ever heard. The recording is from "Black and White Night," which was a special concert from 1988. The whole concert was focused on Roy Orbison, but if that weren't good enough, he managed to get a bunch of other really cool people (i.e. Elvis Costello, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Waits, k.d. lang, Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitt...) to perform with him.

-"Running Scared" by Roy Orbison, from Black and White Night (1988), originally released in 1961

Please No Dog Poop

El Camino auto-post number two: Today I'm probably in Portomarin.

This has absolutely nothing to do with the Camino, with Spain...really, with anything.

Desperate dumpster, Wellesley College, October 2014