Walking The Camino

This will be my last update and it's difficult to know how to begin. As a writer, you always want things to be written 'just so' - to convey your message - facts, atmosphere, anecdotes, emotions - as clearly and concisely as possible. Well, blogging - especially on Camino - doesn't always lend itself to that. I've started each update as I've often read that writers should ... by just starting. Sometimes I've had the time, energy, Internet connection and battery power to go back and tidy things up. Sometimes I've just written what comes to mind, hoping for some semblance of logic, until I get to what seems a good place to stop. And no-one will accuse me of having been concise. So I'll just start and we'll have to see where we get to. Though I predict I'll make the time to go back and 'tidy up' this last letter to you.

When I began The Camino in St Jean Pied de Port on Sunday 25 September I knew only a few things for certain - where I would begin, where I hoped to get to, what was in my backpack, and that I would be walking. I had an idea that if all went well, physically, I would reach Santiago de Compostela around 30 to 32 days later. I had a strong wish to walk all the way and knew my greatest challenge would be to accept gracefully if anything happened to prevent me doing that. I don't recall that I had any other expectations and, in truth, that was the most appealing aspect - not knowing or anticipating what would happen along The Way. I only had one rule - when faced with a decision, to follow my intuition. And that's exactly what I've done.

You know by now that I have had great good fortune arriving in Santiago de Compostela on Day 29, feeling perfectly fine, with no aches and pains and no injuries - not one blister (can you believe it?) - and, to date, I still have all my toenails, though I don't expect that to last. But you also know that has been the least of my good fortune.

I've met wonderful people along The Way, walked through the most extraordinarily varied countryside, cities, small towns and tiny villages, had a great many laughs, just a few days tinged with sadness, and some crazy adventures and misadventures. Physically, some days were tough mostly due to the punishing afternoon heat and some equally punishing climbs. But there was not a single morning when I wasn't eager to start walking and only two days (on the final few hours into Burgos and later into Melide) when I was desperate to get to my destination. Every day my efforts were rewarded and I've shared many of those times with you. The rewards were usually simple things I take for granted in my 'usual' life - seeing a familiar face, a hot shower, being able to wash and dry my clothes, sometimes a room to myself, having dinner with a friend talking over the day's events or discussing what tomorrow might bring.

You've met the people whom I've spent most time with on The Camino - Patrick, Rosarii, Bernard, Nina, Vaclev, Jens, Ka, Michael, Penny, Jonathan and Erica, Iago and Richard - the gorgeous boys from Brazil - and the two gentlemen from Venezia. There have been plenty of other characters - many inspirational and some 'special - but not always in a good way', as Nina would say:

The young man walking The Camino with his dog, walking through the night across the Meseta to avoid the heat. And the Spanish girl who tagged along with 'the famous dog that walked The Camino'.

The French couple (aged 62 and 64) who started walking in France in early August and had walked 1,000 kms before joining my Camino - The Camino Frances - in SJPP to walk another 800 kms to Santaigo.

The Australian man in his 80s whom I never met (he was a few days behind me) but I heard about him a number of times, the first from Thomas, the Polish priest who was walking in his brown cassock, usually singing to himself - loudly.

Two women - one French, one German - who had each started their camino by walking out their front doors. Like the French couple, both would have walked at least twice the distance I have.

The young Muslim man, who Penny from New Zealand had walked with, who wanted to walk The Camino in the hope of meeting many Christians and confirming his belief that we are all just people whose similarities far outweigh our differences.

The German lady who interrupted my conversation with the hospitalero at Casa Carmen by literally pushing me aside and announcing. 'I need a bed and a blanket'. Later that night she complained loud and long when people were talking and the lights were on at 9pm when she wanted to sleep - only to have her alarm go off 'alarmingly' early the next morning and turning on every light while everyone else was trying to sleep. Then waited for an hour or more for Nina and I asking if she could walk with us as she didn't want to walk in the dark.

Nina and I later discussed the fact that there were 'special people - but not always in a good way' everywhere, even on The Camino - or, as Nina corrected, 'especially on The Camino'. And one of the most 'special - in a memorable way' was the Frenchman nicknamed 'the naked pilgrim' or 'the pilgrim with no pants'. He was actually very sweet but was noticeable for his unique walking shorts - a short, short pair of cut off denims! We encountered him many times - and all recall how disconcerting it was to come upon him on those occasions when he was wearing his red jacket which came down over his bottom - he looked for all the world like 'the pilgrim with no pants'. Though Jonathan was later to note that 'In fairness, he has impressive legs!'

The other 'special people - but in a good way' have been all of you who've been sharing my Camino one day at a time by reading my updates and sending your comments, emails and texts. When I think back to the umm-ing and aah-ing I went through deciding whether to write a blog on my Camino, and whether I really wanted to add to my pack by carrying my iPad - I now see that it was destined to be one of the best and most unexpected rewards of my Camino. I was - and am still - overwhelmed by the interest and encouragement of my family and friends and the kind and generous comments you've made. In the first day or two I was a little self conscious about 'publishing' a personal account of my Camino. But thanks to your enthusiasm, it became an important and rewarding part of every day. So a BIG thank you for sharing my Camino. THANK YOU.

Extra special thanks to Patricia for looking after my precious Max and Zoe. I can honestly say I was not anxious about them for a minute while I was away, which many of you will find difficult to believe - but it's true. I put that down to the peace of The Camino and the certain knowledge that they were in the most caring hands. Thanks Pat.

I'm looking forward to seeing those heavenly creatures, and catching up with family and friends (sorry about the order!), having a more extensive wardrobe to choose from - though perhaps I'll be overwhelmed, wearing a pretty summer dress and sandals, painting my toenails pink (hope I will still have 10 when I get home), getting my hair cut (it's an emergency, believe me), eating Thai food, having my first large skim cap at Montagu, taking those puppies to the park, seeing my house and my garden, waiting (hopefully not too long) for someone to invite me to do some work - and, of course, more long walks. Coastrek 2012 is only 4 months away. Yikes.

Some 'pilgrims' say that walking the Camino changed them or changed their lives. I don't know if that is - or will be - true for me. I guess it's too early to say. But The Camino gives you many opportunities every day to give and receive kindness, compassion and laughter - and that's a gift - and it reminds you every day of life lessons you've already learned but have forgotten or 'misplaced'. One new lesson I learned is that I am much stronger - physically and emotionally - than I imagined. And most days I think The Camino brought out the best in me. So that's not a bad outcome, just for putting one foot in front of the other, taking one day at a time, one step at a time.

Muchos gracias, mis amigos.
Con amor y buenos deseos.
Hasta Luego. J x