This photo was taken the first day of our hike in 2003, coming out of Roncesvalles.

Journal entry on 9/17:
We’ve been in Spain for two days now. The acclimatization has been strange and wonderful. We stayed in San Sebastian the firgh night, a vibrant and wonderful beach town on the Bay of Biscay — a city, actually, busy with people and unique buildings built around canals which made me think of Venice. We were dropped off in the center of town, by a taxi from the airport in Biarritz and found a pension immediately. He insisted on keeping our passports, which, I guess is normal but was a little unsettling – and turned out to be fine. We unpacked our backpacks and put everything we thought we would not want to carry on the walk into a box to ship forward to the lista de correos in Santiago, then went in to town to have a bite to eat. We found a restaurant with a sidewalk cafe, ordered a glass of wine, some tapas and were settling in when all of a sudden there was a loud noise and people jumped up and started running. We kept sitting there, wondering what everyone was doing, then realized that the sounds were gunshots and that we were in the Basque area where you hear about shootings etc, but didn’t really know what to do so we just looked around and then noticed that traffic and people had stopped, then started moving again. The people who ran from their seats came back and sat down and went on as if nothing had happened. In fact, nothing really had happened but it was an exciting moment.

We went back to the Pension and re-checked our backpacks for anything we thought we would not need and went to bed. In the morning we collected our passports, went by the post office to shed 15 pounds of our belongings and hopped a bus to Bilbao to visit the Guggenheim Museum, which was between shows – a disappointment, but the building alone was worth the trip, and the Alexander Calder exhibit was fantastic. We walked all over the town, crisscrossing the canal and enjoying our first full day in Spain.

Sept. 16, 2003 Camino de Santiago

Sept. 16, 2003 — First day walking, Camino de Santiago — email to family/friends

well, we have made it to spain ! after about 18 hours of cars, planes, more planes and taxis, we are here. strangest of all, I slept until 10:30 in the morning, a miracle for me… but really it was 7:30at night for you all. at any rate, we landed first in san sebastian for 24 hours of acclimation and took the bus to bilbao today to see the Guggenheim and the Alexander Calder exhibit.

Tomorrow we are off to Roncesvalles where we will begin our walk! It´s hard not to compare all the distances we are travelling to the amount we will be walking, so I think I will quit before I scare myself.

We are enjoying the wine, tapas and great weather. Off for now as I can not quite get this spanish keyboard rightF

For those who may not know what we are doing.. georgia and I are going to walk the camino de santiago pilgrimmage route — 800 KM or 500 miles over the next 35 days.. are wecrazy¿?¿Ç? yes of course, but we´ll keep you posted on the progress

9/17/03 To Pamplona and Roncesvalles to Begin

This morning we hopped a bus to Pamplona. The images I was carrying in my mind about all three cities we’ve been in are that they were going to be so much smaller than they really are. Each city – San Sebastian, Bilbao & Pamplona are totally different and unique, and so charming.

We arrived at the bus station in Pamplona at noon, only to discover we would have to wait until 6pm for the bus, so we walked outside and immediately met our first fellow pilgrim, Carlos, a policeman & guard to the mayor of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He suggested we share a taxi to Roncesvalles. He flagged down a driver & negotiated a $45 ride. As we rode through the winding country, hilly road, he pointed out pilgrims as we passed small villages and chatted to us about the walk. Of course, I didn’t understand the half of it, but Georgia was able to hold the conversation together for us, roughly translating for Carlos, who speaks Portuguese, and myself.

When we arrived the albergue was closed, not to open until 4 pm so we landed at the hotel for a typical Spanish lunch – a soup, potato, lamb, wine, dessert and coffee. We stuffed ourselves and plopped ourselves down outside to wait for the pilgrim hostel to open. At 3pm the doors opened so we could get our pilgrim’s credential. The room had the longest table I had ever seen, and all of the pilgrims filed in to sit & stand around the table to get signed in. We filled out a form that stated who we were, where we came from and paid a $5 fee for our bed.

The albergue itself is in a large stone (monastery) building, with 104 beds upstairs (bunks) and bathrooms and communal area downstairs. The bunks are close enough to reach across and touch the person next to you and there is a strict curfew of 10pm. If you aren’t in, you get locked out until 6:30 am.

People are from everywhere – France, England, Holland, Germany, Brazil, Australia, USA and I am sure, other places as well, as every bed is filled, and the hotels also. I wonder who we will connect with?

9/18/03 Roncesvalles to Larrosoana

Our first day of walking. Everyone was moving around in the albergue before 6 am. There was a lot of excitement so we got up with them, and took off. We walked 20 something miles, and boy are we pooped! I seems that the energy it took was in the knees and lower legs for me and I’ll be surprised if I can stand up in the morning.

What a difference between this Albergue, in Larrasoana than Roncesvalles, which felt like being in a sacred monastery space. The mayor is the greeter for the pilgrims here ad he has a seriously fun time putting everyone in rooms. The building is a two story building, set up like a dormatory. We are in a room with 5 mattresses lined up across the entire floor, and 6 of us to share them. Georgia, myself and Dionne, a young man from Madrid, who we met walking today took the far side of the room. We shared chocolate, stories and laughed about our state of being.

I am finding myself having to stop myself from making judgments about other pilgrims, especially the loud group of Germans who, although are having a lot of fu, are very pushy, and shove their way in front of us to get the shower first – a little strange because it sets up some antagonism with the other roomers.

Some of the people we started with have not made it to this albergue – perhaps they stopped earlier or kept walking – I can’t imagine!

We had a great pilgrim’s meal dinner at the local restaurant that opened at 7pm and went right to bed.

9/19 Larrosoana to Pamplona

9/19 – Journal Entry

What we want:
New heels!
Cheese
Salami/meat
Small wine bottles
Bread
Chocolate

Aye, aye aye aye – the feet, the legs, the muscles you haven’t used in so may years! Reasons to take a taxi or quit walking. But we didn’t. Today we walked from Larrosoana to Pamplona. My muscles are so sore and ache so much I could hardly stand it. Georgia has blisters on both feet and I feeil like I may be permanently walking sideways and to the right. It felt as if my kees were the problem but I think it’s my thigh muscles seizing up. Now I know why so many of the books spend so much time talking about their feet and legs.

Meanwhile, we are traveling through beautiful old medieval towns, the countryside between is green and lush with horses, cows and sheep everywhere. The Spanish dialect and the way they pronounce their words is foreign to me, compared to Mexican Spanish.

We – I should say I – crawled down a hill, thinking I wouldn’t make it – and suddenly there was an old Roman bridge and monastery and large town. We ate a well deserved meal, and rested. On the way out, we met Alfredo, another pilgrim, who was born in Santiago de Compostela, who walked with us and talked us through to Pamplona. He was an angel, really, whose conversation kept us going.

9/19/03 – Email to Family & Friends

After two days of walking, crawling, crying and a few bottles of wine at lunch, we are in Pamplona with blisters and muscles we did not know we had. Slowly, we are making friends with the other pilgrims on the path. A group of Germans, Carlos from Brazil, Alfredo, who was born in Santiago de Compostela hospital, a couple from Mexico and mother-daughter from Australia.. a few francais etc. ..

The first day was as any in a pilgrimage, we just marched up / down the Pyrenees to Larrosoana where we landed and slept 6 in a room of 5 mattresses on the floor. Everyone is up at 5:30 to 6am getting dressed trying to be quiet, but really we´ve all been up for an hour or so trying not to wake each other.

We didn´t realize how exhausted we were from the first day´s hike.. we think about 20 miles. it was encouraging to know we only had 12 to go to get to the next alberque in Cizor Menor which is 5 km past Pamplona.

Well, about 6 km into the walk, I couldn´t walk down hill and think I will now permanently walk a little to the right and sideways. No blisters for me, I just can´t walk downhill. Poor georgia has about 6 blisters but is a very good sport, encouraging me along while she will be the one to suffer more the next few days.

..anyway we know why they drink a bottle of wine at lunch here, and we have had our bottle too! I am trying not to think about how many more miles there are to go and georgia keeps asking why are we doing this?¿ hopefully we will have an answer for you all by the time we are done, but perhaps no¿ I love this spanish keyboard.

It will probably be a few days before we are near a town with an internet cafe again. Lots of little midieval villages, most of which don´t open a door until far beyond the time we have passed through. I think we have something to learn in america! blessings to all and to be continued

From Ron:

Hola, Pilgrims –

Seems like the accent may be on the “grim” part of “Pilgrim” at the moment. Well, its always darkest before things get really miserable…. so buck up!!! Don’t forget, this buisness of soul salvation is not an easy thing. Think of all the sins that must be washed away. It all does seems bit wonderful and crazy at the same time. …

From Margreet:

Gosh guys, I should have told you about the BEST possible way to treat blisters and keep going. See if you can buy this stuff “Compeed” in a store/pharmacy. Put it on a hot spot, or on a blister, warm it up with your hand so it will stick, then wrap a piece of duct tape over it. Guaranteed to stick and stay for a week!!!!. It decreases pressure, pain, misery, and the compeed helps to heal the blister underneath. Good luck. I love you, and Georgia, you are doing this, because when you are old and rimpled, you will proudly tell your grandchildren that this was the BEST thing you ever did in your life. Love and kisses for both of you, Margreet

9/21/03 Letter to Chris

Hi Chris!

If we can say anything…. do 100 knee bends a day before you leave – buy compeed right when you arrive and put it on anything that remotely feels like anything on your feet – no matter what they books say, you will go up and downhill all day for the first week – after the first three days, all pilgrims are created equal. aching knees, blisters, just plain tired, no one cares if you snore.

we took a day off to treat Georgia;s blisters and rest my knees, which have totally surprised me by feeling them all the up and down hill. Otherwise, it is incredibly beautiful and we are enjoying the camaraderie with all the other pilgrims. You will like that too.

If you decide to bike, you will probably catch up with us, as I cannot imagine we will be there before the 15 to 17 October by foot. Margreet says to buy compeed ( a rubbery patch you put on blisters) and cover it with duct tape. buy a walking stick if you decide to walk… very important especially for us old folk! What has worked for me is I duct tape my heels, balls of my feet and any toe that hurts and for me no blisters, which I am happy about.

anyway, we are liking doing this… onward to Los Arcos keep in touch by email, we will figure how to meet up – y es la verdad, que hay mucho vino en espana

9/21/03 Puente la Reina

It hasn’t been a week, and yesterday we totally fell apart and gave into it. Georgia’s blisters are making it too hard to walk and she really needed a day off. My muscles are incredibly sore, but no blisters for me. I think we just did too much too soon.

I had a very strange night sleep last night. We stayed in a hotel, a very sweet hotel in the center of town. We had hot baths, yummm and soaked our feet in hot water and creamed up. The cumulative walking each day is harder on the feet and legs than I thought it would be. Today we are just having a day off to recouperate. Georgia will probably have a few off. Our journal is filling with hangman and cribbage games. We are glad we kept our deck of cards with us.

List #2
Walking Sticks!
new heels
Shoe guy
Walking sandals
Vest
short sleeve t-shirt
Thinner socks
Post office

list #3 Songs we found ourselves singing while we walk
Teddy bears picnic
da dum… da dum..
Beatles songs
Various durdges

9/21/03 – Email to friends & family

Well, it is sunday,day of rest here in Spain. Everything except this one internet cafe is closed, and of course the bars and cafes. After a third day of hiking in blisters ( Georgia ) and being very tired, as we are not used to all this physical labor yet, we have taken a day off to treat the feet and rest.

Puente La Reina is a beautiful old town with narrow streets, brick and stone buildings and a midieval bridge leading out of town. We spent the night in a rural hotel in the middle of town and are learning to pronounce all our C’s as th’ like the natives do. It’s amazing how many C sounds you use in one sentence.

Meantime, the walk to Puente la Reina was supposed to be the last of the big up and down hill. It’s a good thing because just about every pilgrim is now created equal because of all the physical maladies.. blisters, sore muscles, bad knees and equally blessed with good humor and deeper levels of comraderie between us all.

At the top of the last mountain, outside a little village that starts with a letter Z, we found modern windmills and to our great surprise, an art project by the ministry of hydro power.. a series of iron pilgrims.. shapes of pilgrims past, present and future, about 9 of them. Made us smile for a while before the last big downhill. Looking behind, we could see the remnants of Pamplona and a four wheeler came up the dirt path and zoomed by.

So we poked along, Georgia hating the uphill and me hating the downhill, trying not to sing the goofy songs that kept coming into our heads, and made it to Puente la Reina and now to Estella. I have to confess (since it is Sunday, and day of God etc,) that we took a taxi to Estella.. oh well. Tomorrow we are going to visit the renouned shoe person we have read about in a travel book and see about loosening up Georgia’s shoes.

We have agreed to not talk about the why word for a while, as being in the here and now seem to be just about enough for now..

We are looking forward to the flat walking that we hear is before us.

The first day we were here, everyone was up at 5:30, walking at 6. Now, the person who runs the albergues are waking us all up at 7 and just like camping, no one combs their hair or puts on clean clothes. Most of us leave at the same time, never see each other on the path, except for a short time in the beginning when some pass others and we all arrive and fall on our new beds within a half hour of each other. Pretty amazing.

So, we are off for a sunday stroll and hopefully will find another email cafe soon.

thank you for all your encouraging emails, they are mucho appreciated!

by the way, here´s a website with an interactive map of the camino walk..

http://caminodesantiago.consumer.es/

I think we are on etapa #5 now… it´s in spanish but you get to see the general route and there are other pages of an overall map. if you don´t speak spanish.. just click the little buttons and yo´ll find your way around the site

Well, we are back on the road again. We were delayed overnight twice waiting for Raul to warm and stretch Georgia´s shoes. When we returned this morning, he gave them to us at no charge with lots of advise on how to walk the camino… unlike he did at 40 km per day for the first 10 days! Well, no way are we going to do that, but we caught the bus to catch up past los arcos and landed in Viana, another very old old village that was bustling with pilgrims and businessmen and women having bocatillos (crusty bread sandwiches) and wine and coffee. Spain is not the country to try to give up coffee, as they make the best cups of there is… even in the little tiny villages, none of this washed out mister coffee stuff.

So we each took our turn in the bathroom, undressing and putting on our elastic knee pads to minimize the knee stuff. Of course they immediately rolled into little balls around our knees and we couldnt get them to move once our pants were up. So we left them as is and, surprise! they worked. We also each got a telescoping walking stick.. just about everyone has one of these or the more traditional wooden staff… and took off. We walked with a woman who was, from all the places in teh world, Sebastopol California, about 25 miles from where we live. Turns out she knows Margreet.. and Mary Wyman, works for the Occidental / russian river health clinics.

You just never know who you´ll meet

For a little history, which Ihave neglected during our bout with blisters, we began in Roncesvalles.. where Sancho Fuerte (sancho the strong) defeated Charlemagnés army during about 800 ad (give or take a few hundred years, I can´t be exact here without the book) anyway, we passedthe passes of Roldan (Roland) where the boulders we passed were to have been teh size of his footsteps. In the early years of the camino, many churches, monasterys and hospitals (refugios-albergues-hostels) were built to house the many pilgrims going to see the relics of Saint >James in Santiago de Compestela.

The landscape is dotted with castles, 800 year old churches, mixedwith new modern buildings. Today we passed from the province of Navaree..one of the first kingdoms in Spain, into the Rioja region. The hills are rolling instead of steep, the villages ahead visible from a long distance. the soil is deep red, and it is a main grape growing and wine region.

We ended up tonight in the albergue in Logrono, on a fiesta day and everything is closed. The main paseo.. closed sidewalk, is filled with balloon sellers and a puppetter. It is 7pm and things are just beginning to happen.

Mean time, we are off to eat and will check back in when we have gone a little further

viva espana!

9/22/03 Letter from Mer

9/22

Hi Mer,

thanks for your email! this last couple of days we needed all the encouragement we could get. Georgia is doing much better now, blisters healing and we found a shoe repair man-shoe maker who is stretching her shoes and fixing the problem areas, so we have stayed here in estella one more day. Actually it´s been nice to rest since we´ve been go going since we got here non stop.

another good thing I discovered is that after not wearing my boots for 2 days, then wearing them again today for a half hour, that the boots are what is causing the problem going downhill in my knees. So we found a sport store and bought a good pair of walking shoes.. they seem fine.. part of the process I guess. We are kind of chomping at the bit now, ready to go when georgia gets her shoes ready tomorrow. We´ll email more as we move along

——-

9/23 From Ron

Hola, Muchachas!!!

Sancho the Strong!!!! Raul the Warm Shoe Stretcher!!!! Big Footed Roland!!!! This is turning out to be quite an orthopedic adventure. Maybe the next thnig you’ll run into is some local Sasquatch with a foot fetish or maybe Shoeless Joe Jackson. Have you considerd that the problem with Georgia is that her feet are too big – not that the shoes are too small? Maybe this is a job for Diego the Foot Binder. What a rich and wonderous land!!

9/27/03 – Belorado and more

9/27/03

We were trying to figure out how many miles we have gone now. We made it to Belorado yesterday, one of those days that had little villages every 3 to 4 km. It was nice to have something to see so often. Coming into Ciruena, about 1pm, we landed in an abandoned plaza that had a typical running fountain, seven or eight pilgrims eating lunch and airing out their feet.

While we were sitting there, a group of three French people were teasing each other and one of the women started singing these wonderful heartfelt deep songs that sounded like a Moroccan or middle eastern influence. She was impish too, and laughing a lot, pinching her husband. After lunch, we all poked along passing each other and made it to the Refugio about 5pm. After our showers, taking care of feet and hand washing our laundry in the courtyard laundry sinks, we headed to the main plaza for the afternoon drink and tapas.

The woman was sitting next to us and I mentioned I really liked her singing and we talked about where we were all from. She talked about doing a tour of the USA.. Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston and 8 other cities in 11 days. I told her that was pretty ambitious and she told us she was on a singing tour.. Classical singing.. so it turns out that she has 7 or 8 CD´s out and sings traditional Spanish-gypsy- etc songs and is quite famous. We were staying in the same albergue that night and we all brought wine and food and had a night of singing and probably a little too much to drink, and lots of fun singing songs from all the countries we are from. Martyn from Blackpool England, Rudy, Sybil and Joseph from Germany and Equidad, her husband and another woman who was with them.. we never did figure out if she was a sister or daughter. Anyway, if you can find a CD of hers.. there´s one calles mes espana.. I recommend it, you will love her singing.

We have a whole list of what we now call the songs of the Camino. All those songs that come into your head when you are going through your head when you are mindlessly wandering along. Out of the blue, one of us will say.. oh here´s another one.. so I thought I´d share our music walks with you. I think we are starting at the beginning of our singing careers, as the songs that pop in are all the songs we sang as children, and a few of my dad´s songs:

Yellow brick road
Sweet Georgia Brown
Oh Mary Mack
Not last night (jump rope song)
Itsy bitsy spider
row row row your boat
Cielito Lindo
Down by the STation
Mares eat oats and does eat oats
Oh what a beautiful morning
Gonna wash that man right out of my hair
500 miles (folk song)
500 miles (by the pretenders)
Lonely goatherd (sound of music)
Five foot two
Oklahoma
Tiki torches at twilight
Munchkin land

Georgia made me promise not to sing the sound of music, darn!

and, one day, we met an elderly man, Jose, walking and he insisted we sing in English: California here I come (state song)
Bing crosby white Christmas Silent night

Jose called himself the Brujo (healer.. witch – curandero) and insisted that Georgia use his cream on her sore feet and a new type of bandage. We fed him lunch.

Today, we took the advice of several travellers who have done today´s walk.. 8 to 10 miles of industrial buildings next to the freeway.. into Burgos… and we took the bus from Belorado and made it into Burgos at 11am. We found a Pension, and toured the gothic church, museum, the remains of the castle walls of Alfonso III, who lost his castle to Napoleon. There was a lot of damage done, it´s hard to imagine during that time that a castle that big could be damaged like that. One day in Burgos is enough however and we are off to Los Hornillos tomorrow – only an 11 mile walk, a respite!

Georgia and I are getting along just great. She carries and reads the map because I always take the wrong turns, and I carry the first aid supplies. We don´t talk for the first hour of the walk because it is just getting light and often, it is the hardest time to be pleasant, having just loaded 15 to 18 pounds onto our backs!

Well, we are in an internet cafe that has about 30 boys, all 15 and under playing some kind of game that they have to yell back and forth at each other, so it´s hard to think and write and be focused, so.. more later!

From Ron:

9/27

S / G-

You mention this woman singer but don’t give her name. Couldnot find an CD titled “calles mes espana”. Maybe if I do a search for “impish french women singers” I’ll be able to find her. Edith Piaf was an impish french woman singer. M aybe you met some ghostly precence of Edith Piaf? A sign from the lord to his pilgrams….. Au revoir. RD

Name: Equidad Bares

S / G -

I always thought it was “Maresey dotes and dosey dotes…” What about “John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith”? Can’t leave him out.

YOur adventure continues to sound wonderful although a bit weighted towards foot related infirmaries. It must be a spanish thing. On that note I will now make a pilgrammage(?) to the fridge and make a spinich salad with some cold chicken – an adventure of another kind.

Be good – be kind. All my love…RD/DAD

9/27/03 letter from mer
Dear dear Suzanne and Georgia….
We are loving your updates……moms eyes light up when I take her the
printouts… I’m also forwarding them to Katie…I can relate to walking 5 miles….I think I probably walk 20 miles in a month!!!!!….you’re both very courageous….and the perk of being together…and feeding off of each others strengths…..and songs to sing along the way….I can picture it all….can’t wait to see real pictures when you get back….love to you both mer

9/28/03 Letter from Chris

Susana,
heading out on the 8th oct. to london

let me know if you get this
and a previos one
As I’m trying the earthlink webmail
the previous one had a poem too

peace…….Chris

10/2/03 San Bol, Castrojerez, Boadilla, Carrion de los condes, Sahagun & Letter to Chris

10/2/03 San Bol, Castrojerez, Boadilla, Carrion de los condes, Sahagun!
Since last email.. written an an internet kiosk, where it felt you
needed a hammer to punch each key..

We have made it through San Bol to Castrojerez. On the way to Castrojerez, we stopped for a breakfast bocadillo (sandwich) in Hortanas, an old, historic town along the camino. Victorino.. the
spanish man who drinks wine from the top of his nose, decided that wehad come especially to see him, so he invited himself to come get us in Castrojerez and drive us back to hortanas for dinner. Georgia kept teasing me that I had a boyfriend, so I poked her with my walking stick! Anyway, the day was hot, but nice, we walked uphill through the dry cornfields and across miles of meseta, to arrive at 1:45 in Castrojerez.

We figured we had 15 minutes left before the post office closed so we went right over to mail our post cards and saw that their hours were 9 to 10 am. Every day, we wonder how anything gets done in these little towns! There are several thousand people here, so it is always a surprise to see that the hours of work are so few. 10 to 2.. sometimes 11 to 2, then 5 to 7 or maybe 8 in the bigger cities. What are we doing wrong in America to be working so many hours of the day?

Well, after our jaunt to the mailbox we found the Albergue. Not open until 3pm, so we had an hour to kill. We left our backpacks and wandered back up into the town and had a big vodka and lemonade, and who shows up but.. you guessed it, Victorino!

He came right over with his half bottle of Rioja and wanted to take us back to Hortana with him. Of course all the other pilgrims were watching this and laughing and teasing. Georgia, however, gently convinced him that we were only interested in moving forward and graciously thanked him back to his car and off to Hortanas.

Meanwhile, 3pm we head back to the albergue to find our beds. When we get there, we are pretty happy from our vodka happy hour, and got in a giggling fit until everyone else on the street waiting to get in was laughing with us (maybe at us, who knows). The Hospitalero of the
albergue was a big burly guy with a grey beard, wearing tan overalls cut off to the knees. He immediately informed everyone that anyone intending to get up before 7:15 am, should go to the other albergue, that this place was for those who wanted to rest and have coffee in the
morning. .. One thing I haven’t talked about is that about half of the people who are walking set their alarm clocks for about 5 or 5:30 in the morning (a few even earlier than that) so they can be the first on the camino (2.5 hours walking in the dark) and first to the next albergue. There’s quite a bit of competition if you are that kind of person..

Anyway, our hospitalero was letting THOSE people know that the 5am-ers were not for him and they better leave. So about 6 left and of course we remained because we have discovered that if you wait untilafter 7:30 am, at least one bar/cafe is open and you can have aleisurely coffee and still be on the road before the sun makes it overthe hill. As a matter of fact, half way into it now, we seem to be thelast, or next to last out of the albergue in the morning. One particularly competetive German man calls us the tourists of the camino.. well I think we all are, but we have fully embraced it and are thoroughly enjoying not fighting for the bathroom in the morning, or the floor space to repack our backpacks.

So. Castrojerez. Has the nastiest woman pharmacist, no sense of humor! Otherwise it is a very picturesque and nice little town to visit.

After Castrojerez, we had a short walk. By the way, the walks are getting much easier. The feet, although a constant concern, have now made it half way! Yesterday, someone was saying that the two main topics of the camino, are how our feet our doing and how heavy our backpack is. Neither of which you can do much about at this point.

Yesterday we added a third topic. The rain.

On the way to Boadillo del campo, we had our first rain. In the middle of the road we had to pull everything out of our packs to find our rain gear. We brought rain suits.. says waterproof, but we don’t think that is really the case, as our clothing was completely wet when we arrived in Boadillo. We are still trying to figure out if it was just sweat coming to the top of our breathable shirts and pants, or if rain got through. At any rate, Boadillo del camino is a little stop on the road, which many chose to go right by, but we were ready for lunch if nothing else, so we stopped. There was a municipal albergue which was in an old, cold schoolhouse (we passed it right by) and big new signs for the private albergue, which turned out to be the oasis of the trip. It is reminiscent of a Mexican hacienda right down to the colors, tile roof, garden and the clincher for staying is that it had a washer, dryer and a fire in the main living room. The owners were gracious and attendant to all the needs of everyone. Food was also delicious.

So, we had a really nice night for 5 euros (about $6.60) each and met a few more people, and also found others we had not seen in a few days.. Jose the Brujo.. who is about 70,.. maybe older, and giggles about as much as Georgia and I, and two dutch men.. Cees, who just retired and has walked from Holland to here, over 1200 miles altogether, and Martyn, who is about 25 or so, who has ridden his bicycle from Holland. We also met a canandian pharmacist, John, who is also as slow as we are in the mornings, and the three of us walked the next stretch together past Fromista, to Carrion del Conde.

The morning leaving Boadillo was the best morning for views and light yet. The sky was a combination of dark clouds, puffy white clouds, blue sky and the sun coming up made everything look gold, it was really something. We passed the pillar outside the church where in the 1500s
people were burned and whipped, moved along a river where storks were standing in the reeds and into Fromista. From there is was another 12 miles, mostly on the senda (gravel road, along the roadside) into Carrion de los Condes. About 3 miles before Carrion, we had a huge rain storm, wind and hail pelting at us and I think we ran most of that three miles.

Added to our collection of songs, is.. the rain in spain falls mainly on the plain…and a few others that I forget. Also added to our packs are PLASTIC rain ponchos.. no more of these fancy nylon things that say waterproof.

So, Georgia is here, looking at me to finish, as she is completed with her emails. I hope all is well with you Since it was pouring rain, with water and dead mice in the streets today, we took the bus, along with about 25 others, to Sahagun, to have a day of rest, get dry, and head out again tomorrow. We are about half way now! Will email more at the next cafe.
love and kisses,
Suzanne
P.S. we are getting in very good shape. In case you were wondering!

Letter to Chris:

Hi Chris
The weather is getting a little colder. If you have the lightweight fast drying pants .. or at least one pair that has the zippered short idea, that would be better than heavier pants because there often isn;t time for things to dry and by the time you get into a town, you don’t find the lavanderias open either. Very few albergues have drying capabilities… getting things dry is first priority these days.

I would bring 2 pair pants.. maybe lightweight shorts that dry quickly. same with shirts.. nothing cotton as it takes forever to dry. I have 2 pants, 3 shirts.. 2 short sleeve, one long and a lightweight fleece.. georgia has medium to heavy fleece vest and we both use our nylon rainwear for windproofing. several pairs of underwear and get good hiking socks, you’ll be glad you did. lots of people give up boots and walk in cross trainers, but if your boots are broken in, they should be ok. re: 2 pair of socks, most people now say not good, but who knows. I think good heavier socks and duct tape your heels and balls of your feet. That has worked great for me,

I’v e only had blisters on my little toes. Just tape up anything that remotely bothers you when you are walking.

As for the rest.. lots of people have the new fancy nylon rainwear and most of it keeps them dry but they sweat and are wet anyway.. which means drying sweat off your clothes at the end of the day. we bought rain ponchos and cover our packs with plastic-bungee cords.

many albergues have blankets, but some don?t and you`ll have to decide if a fleece will do it.. probably, and if much colder than now you might slleep in clothes too. we were in a cold albergue last night.. our sleeping bags weigh 2.5 lbs.

it?s a process of figuring it all out, really. Also, if you are carrying too much you can ship it ahead to santiago to
lista de Correos,
Peregrino .. and your name etc.
the post offices know the rest.

anyway, we?ve also found that not pushing it too hard.. 20 to 24 km day seems to keep most problems at bay. people doing 30 or more seem to have to rest 2 to 3 days every 4 to five days and dont really get very much farther. We have taken a couple of buses to, through industrial and other uglyl areas.. but not too much.

anyway, we are in Astorga, finally found an internet cafe.
keep in touch by email, can?t wait to hear how it goes

10/3/03 Letter from Chris
10/3/03 from Chris…

What about clothes, shorts? Long pants? what are you walking in. Also is a sleeping bag really necessary or would a fleece sleeping role/sack do? trying to conserve weight , the sleeping roll weighs half what the down bag does, 4-5lb as opposed to 1-2lb. thanks for the blister tips, the duct tape sounds cool and makes sense.

I wonder how I’ll do, I do physical work , work out, walk a lot, am always in work shoes banging around carrying things. in my backpacking days I’d wear two pairs of sock to protect my feet from blisters, if I got one it was usually on the heel. Have been wearing my walking shoes for work this week to break them in….I notice good socks make a big difference for me.

Any thoughts? I know pilgrims are created equal , but I guess I’m not
your average house wife, If you know what I mean, I was just wondering…

Appreciate the info peace and love, chris

10/5/03 Sahagun, Leon, Villadangos, Hospital de Obrigo

Well, we´ve had a train ride, bus ride and a couple of good walks since Sahagun. In Sahagun, we spent a night in a simple but nice hotel for the weekly bath and soak. The restaurant was a busy little place that served mostly organ meats and although we both ate filete de res (beef filet) it really turned out to be some kind of hamburger mix. Tasted good, but neither of our stomachs have been quite right since. We suspect perhaps a little liver or tongue in the mix, but who knows, maybe just too many bocadillos with chorizo along the way.

Sahagun had a great church with a 16th century retablo over the altar and housed the mannequins of saints, virgins, jesus and the like that are brought out during semana santa. The church was closed, but we happened by the elderly man who had the key to the church. He let us in, gave us the descriptive tour of the church and let us take photos.. something that you can´t do in any of the churches or museums here. After that we visited the other church, famous for it´s mudejar style and hopped a train for Leon, skipping about 50km of the walk between the two cities, and a day or two of walking in the pouring heavy rain.

From the Leon train station we wandered several km up to the gothic quarter, which is a little hamlet in the middle of this large city. There, we found the gothic cathedral, a vegeterian restaurant (first of the trip) and the Museum in the San Isodoro church which houses 11th to 12th century frescoes, (fabulous) and the tombs of the daughters of King Ferdinand and Queen Sancha, who idolozed San Isodoro and gave all her money and jewels to the church. In the museum, we saw gold and silver boxes from Egypt – 11th century as well as church relics, jewelery, crown type pieces etc. It was an impressive museum and the frescoes painted on the ceiling were incredible, still in its original paint as well.

After an afternoon and evening catching all the main sights of Leon, we decided it was time for some vegetables.. once in three weeks, is about right, we thought, so we set out from our hotel room in search of a place we could find a salad at minimum. Low and behold, around the corner we found a vegetarian restaurant run by 3 young guys about 24 years old and had a lettuce and rice salad and tortilla (like an omelet) with red and green in it! Finding food with vegetables and red and green in it is quite a feat, since dry bread sandwiches with meat or cheese seem to be what you mostly find if you want to eat before the dinner hour of 9pm here.

Saturday morning we had a little round about trying to find our way back on to the Camino. We knew we had to go over the train tracks (actually they wind around and we went over them about 6 times) and found our way back to the train station. From there we lost track of the brass shells that are embedded in the sidewalks that lead one back to the Camino.

Several angels along the way led us astray, until finally, a very average looking woman in a black pantsuit asked us if we were lost, and led us promptly to the bridge we needed to cross to get out of Leon.

From there, it was a steady uphill for about 3-4 miles through the lower part of the city, suburbs, and finally past the town wine bodegas (dug into the hillsides, and back onto the Meseta toward Villadangos, where we were headed for last night´s stay.

It was like a miracle day, our feet didn´t hurt and we kept passing people up, first time ever that we weren´t the last ones along the path.. actually, people who are hiking from the town before us are usually passing us up by 10 in the morning, so we were really happy that our bodies were cooperating so well, and enjoying the competition today. There weren´t many little towns in between, and the towns have now changed. No more quaint medieval towns, mostly highway towns, truck stop places with no services.

As we are traveling along we have several types of entries into towns.

First, there are the towns that we see a sign that says 3.2km (2 miles) and we think, no sweat, that’s really close. what seems like an hour or two later (and it may be) we are still looking at a town that seems to be getting farther away the closer we get, and our feet become like lead and we lower our heads and use our walking sticks more heavily than usual.

Second, there are the towns that you come up over a rise, and presto! the town is right there, the albergue on this end of town. These are our favorites, but Villadangos was of the first type. Here we were having a great walking day and the town kept getting further and further away. We finally arrived however and by this time had been able to manufacture a few aches and pains, but the albergue was at the entrance to the town.

The albergue hospitalero left a note on the table: Be back at 5pm, find a bed. So we did. This albergue had triple bunks, and luckily we managed to get bunks on the lower level. It´s really the pits trying to climb up to a top bunk with your 20 pound backpack! At any rate, we got ourselves settled as others wandered in. Then we noticed that there was a very bad smell. Other pilgrims kept walking by holding their noses so we went out to see what was going on.

In the room next to ours, was a man who was asleep, with his stinky shoes sitting at the walking aisle. None of us really knew what to do or say. Should we put his shoes outside, on the window sill.. or my suggestion was to throw them out (vetoed by Georgia who said that wasn´t very nice). So, we all spent the afternoon walking around the back of the Albergue rather than wake him or touch the smelly things.

Several hours later, we went out to check out the town. Villadangos looks like a town that will no longer be at some time in the future. Georgia and I found the church, which seemed to be closed, but on the bench out front, there were 4 men and women in their 80´s and 90s´, dangling their feet. One of them got up with her cane, all hunched over in a typical button front housedress and asked us if we were peregrinas. We said we were and she asked us if we would like to see the church.

We weren´t sure at first, as it looked like it was a very old church that had been sloppily renovated in the 1960´s, and not very interesting. But she was a woman you couldn´t say no to. Her name was Lauriana, and she hobbled before us and opened the door for us before we could say no.

Boy were we surprised. There was a retablo-altar in this church from the 1700´s that was dedicated to Santiago (as in the Camino de Santiago – apostle of Christ who the Camino is named after). It is a carved relief from floor to ceiling with a statue of Santiago in pilgrim cloth on the left, king Raymondo on the right, and the virgin Pilar, with Christ in the high center. In the middle center was a carved statue of Santiago, Matamoros (moor killer) on his white horse, spearing a moor. In between these carvings were other saints and angels, and painted scenes depicting Santiago helping king Ramondo drive the moors out of Spain in the 800´s.

We were stunned at it´s beauty and detail, and Lauriana sat next to us and gave us a talking to about the history of Santiago, the history of Spain and the Camino itself. As she went on, a woman about my age came in to dust the niches, statues and altar with pledge, and informed us that Lauriana knew more than the bishop about the history of Santiago, and we all laughed.

So we took her photo in front of the altar and promised to mail her a picture. She was a little nervous to have her photo taken in her old house dress, but she consented and gave us each two kisses, one on each cheek, with a promise to give one to Santiago when we arrived in Santiago de compostela, and had our turn hugging his statue.

After this, we just about skipped back to the Albergue, we felt we had been offered something really special. Meanwhile, the stinky shoes could be smelled from the front door. Several cyclists were walking in, their shoes in hand and when they smelled the Albergue, they both immediately smelled their shoes to see if it was theirs that smelled. I have to confess, earlier, we both smelled our shoes too!

The man with the smelly shoes was still sleeping and by this time everyone was talking, and new people had come in as well. No one would occupy his room, so he was alone, asleep, with everyone talking about him. We went to dinner with an English woman Ann, and her French husband who are retired,and walking only the second half of the Camino, a French canadian professor who had walked from LePuy France, almost 900km already and a Canadian Environmentalist who had just begun walking yesterday. It was a lively dinner, and excellent typical food with a waitress with a funny sense of humor.

We returned about 9:30 to the albergue, and the smell was the same, and no one had said anything to him about his shoes. It’s amazing what people will put up with for a long time before saying anything. And this smell was BAD!

Since Georgia speaks fluent Spanish, we delegated her to say something to him about putting his shoes outside. He was awake, sitting on the edge of his bed and by this time everyone had decided he was not a pilgrim in the sense that the rest of us were, but maybe homeless, or some other fabrication of his life. He was only carrying a plastic bag and didn´t talk to anyone.

As Georgia walked by his berth, she just turned about and ran to her bed and informed me he had given her a dirty look that scared her, so she wasn´t about to say anything to him. So, I just went over and started to say something.. asked if he spoke Spanish or English.. and he said a little of both.. and volunteered that his feet stank-. I said, yes, and can you take your shoes outside for the night, please?

He didn´t smile, but immediately took his shoes out, and said something in English, and we realized that he could probably understand everything we were all speculating about.. in Spanish and English from early afternoon on, if he was awake then.

Oh well. He took his shoes out, and when he returned, someone rushed into our berths and said “did you see how bloody his feet are?¨ Of course I jumped right up and Georgia refused to get out of her sleeping bag. Turns out he had put betadine all over his feet for two blisters on his heels, and everyone was offering advice, which he didn´t want to accept. So, we left him with two compeed for his heels, and he was still sleeping when we left at 8:30 this morning, and we haven´t seen him since.

Meanwhile, we walked through Hospital de Obrigo, which has a medieval bridge still standing that is famous for the knight who jousted every man who came across the bridge, to defend his honor (over a woman who betrayed him, of course) and Georgia developed a little ankle something or other, and we hopped a cab for a short ride to Astorga, where we are now.

Astorga is a mix of little winding streets, old and new, and has an Episcopalian castle-museum which looks like it was transplanted from Austria.. a little out of place next to the Gothic cathedral and other less impressive but centuries old churches and buildings, but nevertheless, quite amazing.

Tomorrow we begin our ascent out of Castilla y Leon and the meseta, and into the mountains leading to Galicia. If all goes well, we will spend the night in Rabanal where we will hear the 5pm vespers in Gregorian chant, something we are looking forward to.

So, Sunday is about over here and hope you are all well, thank you for all your emails, keep them coming, as I appreciate hearing back, even if I can´t answer each one with the limited time to write these letters. Don´t know what the email will be like in the mountains, but usually every couple of days we find one where we don´t expect it.

be well!

10/6/03 Letter from Mark & Marly

10/6/03

Sue,

Looking at the picture of you and your daughter, reminds me of how proud I am to know you.
Your life and your relationships make a profound difference in the lives of people around you, especially me.

Your daughter is blessed to have a mom in you.

PS I had lunch on Marty street the other day and raided your frig (while I was doing my bills of course) and found some of ZOE’s soup! She is one of the best cooks I have ever known! She is gifted!

muchas arigato

mark k (and Marley)

………
Your last Email was very entertaining, boyfriend, people being burned and whipped in the 1500’s and so on. I bet you’re getting buff. You’ll be jogging the trail soon. Thanks for taking the time to send your adventure to us.

Love Dave ……and Pam

……..
Just want to tell you how much I am enjoying your trip! You write a
beautiful story. It is fun to hear about the totality of the walk; the food,
the smelly feet, the sweet people who help you find your way…

I hope the rest of the trip is good to you as well. I look forward to
reading more about the adventure at hand. — Jack

10/6/03 Letter from Dolores

Oh what a trip of a lifetime! I am so enjoying your emails–once I get over my envy!! The one photo of Georgia in front of the hacienda was too dark to see her, but the bldg looked incredible…as did your photo of Victorinos. You could sell that shot, it’s gorgeous.

I think I’m going to forward your emails to Steve. He and Nonie went to Spain a few years back–only they went “hi- end” …so he’ll probably enjoy all the things you have seen by literally walking across the country. Wowie- I’m impressed!

Keep me on your list and remember I love you–so be safe!! Dolores 0x

10/9/03 Santa Catalina, bartender with the wandering eye

10/9

Elderly man in beret from Santa Catalina

So, back to the bartender with the wandering eye…

Back in Santa Catalina, population 38, there is a bartender who is about 35, white shirt partially untucked, who spent about 2 of the 3 hours we spent there wiping down his espresso machine. He was initially a little grumpy until he discovered georgia could speak spanish and he could understand her (as opposed to me who has to spell my Spanish out to everyone)

We only wish we had gotten his name and a photo, as he had a great wandering eye. Sometimes it would cross and other times off to the side so you could never tell where to look at him. As the night wore on, he managed to down a few something because he got progressively more drunk. Every time georgia would go over, he would get kind of.. well.. rabid about all the people that walk through Santa Catalina that want to change it. The more rabid he would get, the more the eye would move around until he would get in a bit of a rage about it all and then the eye got even more wild. At this point, even Georgia couldn’t understand him, and I had to call her over so he would stop ranting. He calmed down eventually and we went back to the Albergue for a good nights rest.

We slept late, exchanged addresses with our hospitalero, Bienvenidos, who we promised to send a photo that we took of him, with his scythe the day before. This area is particularly beautiful with rolling hills, old vineyards, and lots of crusty old buildings that are charming, although falling apart. We were off to Rabanal where we were hoping to hear the vespers in Gregorian chant.

About 10am, we came upon a place, not really a town, although there were buildings there. It is the home of a place called Meson Cowboy and you could hear it a kilometer away, music, laughing and someone yelling at the top of his lungs at everyone. Meson Cowboy was in our guide book but we had forgotten about it. The building is at a point where the road divided, with a western front and cowboy decor right down to the horse painted on the wall. The owner (never got his name) was behind the bar, pouring aguardiente into anyone´s coffee who didn´t stop him first. Dressed in his jeans, vest and cowboy boots he was hollering at everyone (in fun, we found out.. but you didn´t know for sure at first).

The two sisters from Alturas CA (Jen & Elizabeth) were there, we had been playing catch-up with them on and off over the last week. Also there were the retired ski shop owners, Ann and Jack, from France. She is British and a real prankster and joker, her husband Jack is French. He can’t speak a word of Spanish or English but was right there with it all and we became quick friends.

Speaking of the French, there is an ongoing dialogue throughout the Camino about why the French refuse to try speaking Spanish. so we had a discussion about this and Jack told Ann that all we women had to do was lay on the ground and open our legs and we wouldn’t have any problem meeting the French. First we just cracked up. Then we all had a good hoot over how we would look lying on the ground on our backpacks, (see photo to left, taken later at Monte Gozo) feet waving in the air, and this became the laugh of the day every time we saw Ann and Jack. (we also laughed about how beautiful we all are right now as not one of us has used a hairbrush since we started this walk.. that’s three weeks now)

Meantime back at the cowboy bar, the owner is screaming and hollering in fun at everyone and then comes out and offers to give me a washing machine if I leave Georgia with him… what a deal! Of course, I thought, in the translation that I was supposed to give him a washing machine.. kind of a dowry.. but somehow we got out of there agreeing to send him something from the USA. Was Georgia relieved! A little ways down the road we decided that we should send him some cowboy pajamas, something he probably can’t find here in Spain. This got us laughing all over again. We passed through a lot of rolling hills and through several Maragato towns ending up in Rabanal, where we discovered that our monks went on vacation, so no chants that night. We were disappointed.

Well, it´s 10:20 and I am about to go back to the albergue and will finish the following next time we get to internet: More awe inspiring, medieval towns, the path with hearts, Foncebadon and the wild cows, Tomas, knight of the templar and the pagan ritual, and the rocky downhill, and today´s walk through Ponferrada into Cacabellas.

Tomorrow we will be going up into the mountains past Villafranca and part way to O´cebreiro, where we hear they have tastefully restored round yurt type stone buildings that have thatch huts.. how romantic!

It will be a day of all uphill too, about 1000 feet or more of climbing so we will probably be pooped by the end of the day.

Off for now, be well

10/12/03 Letter from Mark

Watch out for those BARTENDERS. They are the most magical and fantastic people on the globe!

The live their lives “Being” with people in a real way daily, and with drunk people a lot.

They see more & know more about people’s realness than most PhD therapists…

And they are lots-o-fun.

keep on walk’n

mark k
10/13/03 Letter from Ron

Hola, Pilgrims –

I’ve been doing a bit of research which may be helpful you on your journey. Apparently there are two, not one, but two, Catholic Saints who are patron saints of foot and/or feet problems. These individuals are St. Peter (the apostle) as well as a fellow named Servatus, who lived and worked in the Netherlands (Nederlands) sometime in the mid 300′s. Its not clear why they are patron saints of foot problems, although the pictures and iconography of Servatus shows him with three wooden shoes, which, obviously would be a bit of a problem – trying to walk around with three shoes on. Not to mention splinters, knots, etc. So next time your in a chapel somewhere bemoaning your feets you now know who to direct your prayers to.

Must say that this past weekend was quite beautiful – we’re having a great fall. Glen Ellen Village Fair this past weekend – same old – but nice and fun anyway. Cyn and i rode our bikes up and hada few drinks at the lodge and listened to Norton Buffalo toot along with some local band. Both the Raiders and 49′s lost – both having poor seasons. Today, Monday, is the observation of Chistopher Comumbus Day – the Italian who sailed for Portugal. If is wasn’t for Columbus we wouldn’t have pizza or a place in Ohio. Its really amazing how things are related.

Hope you and G are well and on the downward stretch. Is this trek something that can be done on a bicycle without a lot of heartache??? I wonder who the patron saint of bicyclists is???? Ther ewas a spread in the Press Democrat this Sunday regarding the charms and wonders of San Miguel…

Till the next time I remain fondly yours……………..Padre Rionaldo, Patron Saint of Co-Dependents throughout the Christian World

10/15/03 Letter from Marsha

Dear Suzanne and Georgia,
Thinking of you both as we were in Baja Sur for a retreat with our
Tibetan teacher, an old hot springs resort on the Sea of Cortez, 40
miles north of Cabo…but hurricanes washed out roads so we were
relatively isolated.. it was very special.
your letters are so vivid I feel like we are in part with you both
through your trip. Are you taking many photos? Perserverance?
I’ll say Marsha

10/16/03 Astorga, Santa Catalina, Ponferrada
The internet cafes are fewer in between now, as we are heading through the first series of mountains and on to galicia.

We went from Astorga into Santa Catalina – we did a series of shorter walks to let the feet rest. On the way, we passed through several reconstructed Maragato villages, all stone with green doors and shutters and rock streets. Mostly, they seem to be pilgrim and weekend towns full of restaurants. Of course, none are open during the time we seem to be walking!

Meantime, after taking Georgia 1.5 km into a town she didn´t want to go to because of her hurting feet, we had a glorious uphill hike on a path that was covered in heart shaped rocks into Santa Catalina. (surprisingly.. uphill seems to work good for both of us)

Santa Catalina has a population 38, including our hospitalero who is named Bienvenidos, which means welcome. He kept telling us his name, and we would say ‘thank you’ (for welcoming us) until he finally pulled out his identification to show us that Bienvenidos was his name. When he was born, his father was away and when he finally returned, welcomed him and the name stuck.

There is the albergue, a schoolhouse.. except no children in the town, a bar and bartender with a wandering eye, and about 20 pilgrims. Nothing to do except enjoy the view, visit with the hospitalero and bartender.

That night we went out for dinner. At the bar.. choice of bocadillos (roll with meat, no mayo, mustard, ketchup etc) or a plate of 5 kinds of ham and chorizo with cheese, and dry bread.

Just to be fair though, we need to say that we have actually had some pretty good bread in between the dry bouts. But this time, it was the average bread, and of course olives, spicy this time.

We met 2 retired, Danish bicyclists, Fred and IB, who were so happy to meet anyone who spoke english that we all ate together and compared camino walking versus camino biking stories, as well as the usual topics of feet, aches and pains, weather and who we are meeting.

As we ambled back to the albergue, the hospitalero informed us he didn´t care what time we got up in the morning, so of course we slept until 9am, after everyone else had already left, and took our time in the shower, taped our feet and as we walked out of town, we were greeted at the crossroads by Carlos, our Brazilian policeman who we met our first day here going to Roncesvalles. We haven´t crossed paths with him for several weeks, so it was like old home week, hugs and kisses on the cheek and stories of what we had been doing…

Oops, looks like my internet time is up so I will complete this next time with more about the bartender with the wandering eye, the cowboy bar in the middle of nowhere, Rabanal, where we were to have heard vespers in Gregorian chant (but the monks didn´t show up), the two sisters from California, the english woman (prankster) and her French husband, more midievel towns, Foncebadon and the wild cows, Tomas, knight of the templar and the pagan ritual, and the rocky downhill.

Today, we are passing through Ponferrada, a city of 50,000 where we have already been to the castle of the Knights of the Templar (kicked out of the city in the 12th century, first bankers, and friends to pilgrims..) then off to Cacabello, Villafranca and within several days to O´cebriero the gateway to Galicia and the final leg of the walk (no pun intended)

hope you all are well,

Love Suzanne

10/17/03 A bit of Camino wisdom & a Letter from Chris

Suzanne sent these this morning.(pictures)
They were so bright I thought I’d invade your inbox again
And this bit of spontaneous Camino wisdom

Good pilgrim.
Bad pilgrim
Keep Walking

John

10/17 from chris