I'm home. I missed my family and friends ... but I wasn't ready to come home. I loved the camino and I did not want it to end.
My favorite part of the camino was the ...
* walk * colors * smells *
* flowers * forests * fields * food *
* towns (hamlets) * cities *
* people * experience *
* the simplicity *
* the complexity *
I loved the walk. Every day was exactly the same same, but different. We woke up, we got dressed (except for a few chilly nights when I slept in ALL the clothes that I brought), we ate a little, and we walked ... and walked and walked. Sometimes we walked uphill, sometimes we walked downhill. Sometimes we walked through fields, sometimes we walked through forests. Sometimes we walked through little towns (hamlets), sometimes we walked through big cities. We always walked but the walks were different every day.
It rained a lot. There was record rainfall in April and May. I love the rain. My shoes aren't waterproof but my feet are. One day, we had 12 kilometers between towns. It was raining and there was little cover. In the middle of farms, there was a farm truck. A man was sitting in the back of the truck with hot coffee and cookies for the pilgrims. Even the biggest grumps were happy.
I loved the colors. The camino is my new favorite color. Greens, blues, purples, yellows, reds, oranges, pinks, browns, whites and blacks - in combinations that you would not think look good together. The colors were beautiful and brilliant.
At the top of a hill, you can look ahead to see where you are going (or where you have been). The path might look brown in the distance. When you get there, it is bright yellow and pink and purple and green and brown and white. Brilliant colors.
I loved the smells. Thyme, rosemary, lilacs, roses, and millions of other plants and flowers that I couldn't identify. One day, they were mowing the grass at a big park (surrounding the albergue in Burgos). Fresh cut grass! So badly, I wanted to lay down in it and roll around. I did grab a clump of fresh cut grass and stuck it in my pocket. It didn't smell as good the next day.
I loved the sounds. I loved the sounds of the crickets and birds and frogs. They were deafening. I loved walking into the wind or along a river. The white noise blocked everything else out. I loved the sound of walking - crunch, squeak, crunch, squeak.
I loved the flowers, the forests, and the fields. There are so many different flowers on the camino and even the ones that look plain from a distance ... are beautiful and colorful and complex. Natural forest green, which means all the different greens that are together in a forest, has been my favorite color since I was a little kid. Many times on the camino, I was surrounded by natural forest green. I loved it.
The so-called "boring" part of the camino is the Meseta - the plateau with fields of cereal grains for miles and miles. The fields were greenish, bluish, purplish, tanish, brownish. The wind would gently blow some patches and not others ... so there were patches and waves of different colors. I loved it.
I loved the food. Most days, I ate a pilgrim's menu ... bread, drink, salad, entrée, and dessert. Usually, there was a big mixed salad, meat and fries, and flan or ice cream. One day, pumkin soup was on the menu. I was a bit reluctant to try it, but it was raining and cold and I thought I would have something warm. Yummy! It was the BEST soup I've ever had (uh, not including Oma's .. hee hee).
I stayed at albergues (al - bear - gays), which are hostels specifically for pilgrims on the camino. Some albergues were monestaries, churches, public community buildings, and private homes. Some were really, really old and others were really new. Sometimes you slept in a room with 100 other people (and a symphony of snores); other times with 3 other people (and a duet of snores). Light sleepers are encouraged to use earplugs.
I loved the little towns or hamlets as the English folks called them. In the distance, you could see a church tower sticking up and you knew there was a town coming up. The town might have seven buildings including a church, a bar or two, an albergue, and a few homes that appeared to be boarded up. Often, the "supermarket" was in the bar. The bar was usually filled with pilgrims - sometimes absolutely packed with pilgrims.
I loved the cities - especially cities that love their parks so much that they garnished them with flowers and bushes and trees and walkways.
I loved the people. There were a lot of people on the camino - a lot more than I expected. I expected to have a lot of alone time on the camino ... but it didn't work that way. I took a few walks by myself and I enjoyed them. But, mostly I enjoyed being with other people. There is a simple (public) side to everyone ... Hi! How are you? Where are you from? There is also a complex (private) side. On the camino, there is often the opportunity to get to know both.
Bob is from Australia. He made fun of my improper gear - my super-slow-dry clothing, my garbage bag raincoat, and my holey tennis shoes that got soaked even when it wasn't raining. He let me buy him coffee (and he made me coffee in his billy), he carried my peanut butter and my pepper shaker (they were heavy!), he let me beat him in cribbage and Euchre, he told me every last detail of every farm machine that exists (absolutely fascinating! hee hee), sometimes he drank my share of the wine at the pilgrims' menu, and he taught me some Australian words - some of them I can't repeat.
I met heaps of people. Natalie (below, left) is a mid-wife from Canada. She is a can-do kind of person who could turn unfortunate events into her favor. I met an older woman who had such a great attitude toward everything, including her own slow but steady progress on the camino (below, right). I called her Miss Wild Rose ... after the "small, unknown town" in Wisconsin where she grew up (and, coincidentally, where we had a summer home).
I met Patricia whose bike broke the same day that the bank machine ate her cash card. She smiled and laughed and was so genuinely happy that she made you wish that your bike broke and that you lost your cash card. (She reminded me of you, Katty!) I met Pat (below, left with Bob) and Glenn from Canada. I met Francois. After staring at him for a long time, I realized that he looks kind of like my dad.
I met a fashion statement (below). She had matching socks, tights, knickers, undershirt, polo shirt, overshirt, earings, scarf and eye shadow. My turtleneck, shirt, underwear, and socks did match ... they were all a dingy white.
I met a guy who had biked all the way from Belgium but hadn't showered or shaved (I shared a room with him - eeew). I met Brian and Bridget and Katie and Sue and Marg and Carlos and Hyo-Jin and John and Jeannette and Agnes and Susanna and Katherine and Ruloff. I met lots of other people to whom we gave nicknames ... Masseuse, Spanish couple, Canadian girl, Neanderthal/Bloody Knuckles, Whiner, etc.
I love Susan Emery! Susan dropped her hectic schedule at work to travel to Spain and walk with me for the last 100+ km of the camino. She was without sleep for more than 36 hours when she arrived in Sarria and THEN walked with me for 20 km UPHILL in the RAIN (really). She brought raw almonds, Jelly Bellies, Good 'n Plenty, and some super heavy energy bars! We had to eat a lot the first few days to lighten her pack. Like always, Susan made everything so much more fun! She is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world!
Ok. My kids say that I love everything and that everything is my favorite. That is not true. I just don't like to talk about things that I don't like. But, to fill out the picture of the camino ... there were a few things that I didn't like.
There were hardly any bathrooms for pilgrims - especially females who were not comfortable or very adept at squatting (like me). So, it cost about 1,20 euro (almost $2) to buy a drink so that I could then use the bathroom. That doesn't make any sense! After drinking the drink, you have to go to the bathroom again 5 km down the camino.
I didn't like grumpy people - people who treated the volunteer hosts at the albergues badly, people who huffed and puffed when the one waitress who was serving 50 people didn't respond in a timely manner, people who grumped about anything and everything.
I hated the litter!! (Sorry, Dad, I know you hate the word hate but the passion of the feeling fits here.) Sometimes, there was sooo much litter - water bottles, cans, wrappers, plastic bags, etc. I got really grumpy (see previous point about grumpy people) and I openly expressed my unfavorable opinion about people who litter. I'm pretty certain that I offended at least one person with my opinions - he avoided me after that. Surprise!
I have 2500+ photos from the camino - yet photos cannot capture the experience. I saw those clouds. I smelled those flowers. I felt that rain and that sun and that wind. I walked past those fields and over those hills and through those forests and along those rivers. I visited those churches, I lit those candles for our loved ones, I touched those crosses. The best part of the experience is the experience.
