Roncesvalles to Larrasoaña—Day 2

-
The next day was a lovely as the first was a struggle. After 10 hours of hiking (I lost the path for about 1.5 hours), I arrived weary but happy at Larrasoaña. The hike was like going through a fairy tale—rolling hills, Ivy-covered stiles, little villages, trickling streams and tinkling cow-bells. At one point, in the middle of the woods, the path turned into a great stone causeway of granite slabs which must have taken someone hours and hours to make. I had morning coffee with three cheerie Czech's—super equipped (they had their own little stove)—who laughed and laughed at the smallest things. I ate lunch in a sheep field, with an English couple, so the sounds of munching was accompanied by the "bong-bong" of the sheep-bells. Later in the afternoon, I had a snack in the shade of a stone house, and as I was eating, 7 little cats ran up and sat so intently in front of me, that I nearly gave them each a piece of the orange I was eating! I am now in the big city of Pamplona after a relatively short but very painful walk. I have some nasty blisters which I want to patch up before tomorrow. God willing, I will make it to Santiago. If not, it will still have been a great adventure. I am getting very fond of my walking stick which one of the villagers gave me in Pintano. I never imagined El Camino to be this difficult, yet this peaceful and satisfying. Each person has a different story, their own way. It is such a daunting thing when you think of 800 km's to walk—all the N. of Spain—little by little...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Operation "Spread the Wuuuuuv."

-
Image
Today, I decided to do something constructive. There is a certain reckless insanity that comes over a person after a very painful experience, so I decided to make the most of it and do something perhaps a little crazy. I made lots of Valentine's Day cards and gave them out to all the saddest looking people on Rideau street and in the mall downtown. It was fun! There was an old, depressed-looking hunchback (how much more pathetic does it get than that?) who shuffled by me, and I hid one in his bag when he wasn't looking. I gave another to a very fat lady who looked at me suspiciously, then realizing what it was, burst out laughing and yelled out her thanks. There was a skinny girl who looked like a bean-pole (correction: she looked more like an upright knitting needle—even a tape-worm would have abandoned her), who was crying her eyes out, and I gave her one too. I can't remember all of them, but I gave a couple out in a coffee shop, a number to people sitting alone in the m...
Read more

Honda civics, grief and signs

-
Image
They say (whoever they  are), that once you own a certain type of car, you see it everywhere. For example, years ago I owned an zippy little honda civic, and sure enough, I notice them all over the place now. I'd never paid attention before, but they seem to be just everywhere. So when we see reminders of lost loved ones, I wonder, are we r eally seeing signs, or is it just our brains filtering for reminders, meaningful situations, or ways of feeling connected to them to ease the loss? It's been two years since Sammer passed away, and it seems his fingerprints remain in the world. As you probably know, Sammer was a captain and career sailor, and sailing was how we bonded. My first "honda civic" moment was in a training course with the Coast Guard, and my officer told me to do an exercise on the charts, which involved recording latitudes and longitudes. He pointed to one spot -- the same reef where Sammer and I had had a particularly memorable adventure when we were fi...
Read more

A Year in the Coast Guard

-
Image
The idea of joining the Coast Guard was first planted during a wild and beautiful sail on a one-hundred year old boat, Ziska , that I helped bring home from Alaska to Washington in 2019. During this voyage, many distress calls came over the radio - especially in the north - and we heard the Coast Guard talk people through very difficult situations. It was comforting to know that the Coast Guard was close(ish) by. When we were further offshore and hit by rough weather, it was harder being out of range of help. After this trip, I started volunteering for the nearby Royal Canadian Marine Search and Rescue station, and we sometimes did training operations with the local Coast Guard station. This sparked my interest even more. I had been working for the provincial government for three years - great work with wonderful people - but after some big personal losses, I really felt the need for a change. I submitted my application to the Coast Guard and forgot about it till I got a phone call inv...
Read more