Thankful Thursday

— Posted inUncategorized — 5 min read

Yesterday was my first day of walking the Camino in Spain.  Leaving the albergue (pilgrim shelter) where I stayed in Burgos, I walked a bit in the dark and drizzle, stopped at a bar for a cafe con leche (yes, the bars are open at 8:00 am, and not all the clientele are drinking coffee), and promptly got lost in town.  Wandered in what I thought was the right direction for a bit without seeing any of the waymarks, but then I saw a gas station.  The attendant didn´t speak a word of English, but between the two of us and my map he pointed me in the right direction.  That’s when I saw the three west-bound pilgrims, two of whom had bright yellow rain covers on their backpacks.  I paced myself, and in about 20 minutes I caught up with them.

This is now the second day we’ve been travelling together and it is a nice thing.  Artense speaks English, her husband Antonio speaks French far more fluently than I ever will, and Carmina studied French in school.  (I suspect I’ve been out of school much longer than she has.)  So we communicate with humour and sign language and snippets of French and English, aloing with my broken phrase book Spanish.

Of the three of us, I’ve got the most time to make it to Santiago, and I suspect that once Artense’s blisters clear up, she and Antonio will go back to their 30 km per day pace.  So far, 25 km seems about right for me.  Today we only walked 20, but yesterday was fairly brutal, even for the experienced walkers.

As I mentioned above, it started out with drizzle, but after about two hours the sun came out.  And I honestly thank God that it did, because the thought of walking the last section of the trail we covered yesterday afternoon in the rain makes me weak in the knees.  The first 25 km went well.  The section of trail we’re on now reminds me of the parts of North Dakota I’ve driven across — plateaus, with the occasional river valley punctuating the high plain.  It’s very beautiful, but when you’re on foot you experience those hills somewhat differently.

Five of the final six km of trail yesterday was a constant uphill slog through mud with a strong head wind.  It was indescribably miserable, and part way through (while I was still capable of coherent thought) I realized that fire is not the only biblical image for hell.  There is also the miry deep.  Finally I crested the hill and saw a sign which almost had me weeping with joy:  Hortanas 0’5 km.  Only half a kilometer to go, and it was all downhill WITH NO MUD!!!  And at the end, my companions had already told the hospitalera that I’d be arriving.  Marta waited patiently while I dropped my pack, removed my mud-laden boots, and fished out my pilgrim’s credencial.  She stamped it, recorded my details in the log book, and led me to the kitchen where my companions were waiting and she’d already begun cooking our dinner.

After a quick bit of refreshment, she led us upstairs and showed us to the dormitory.  A hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and a foot massage later I felt human again.  And then it was time to eat.

Today was a much easier walk.  No mud, for one thing, and it was walking on the meseta.  There were a few slopes, but much of it was walking on more or less level ground.  I arrived in Itera de la Vega about an hour ago and poked my head into the first place that was open.  Carmina had walked on ahead of the rest of us, and she wasn’t there.  Still, it was warm, it had beds and food and a nice big bathroom for each dormitory room.  I was sold, especially since I knew we’d meet again on the trail tomorrow.

As I was scraping the mud from my boots (well yes, there was a little mud today, but nothing worth mentioning), Antonio and Artense came along the road.  I hailed them and they told me they were headed to the albergue next to the church, which is where Carmina had settled in.  We agreed that we’d meet back at “my” place for dinner together at 7:00 and I headed for the shower.  When I came out a new man, they had changed their plans.  In fact, so had Carmina, so the four of us are booked in here together again. 

Dinner will be served in an hour, which gives me time to stretch out a bit, massage my feet, and relax with the others.  I’m not sure when I’ll be posting next, but I’m keeping notes as we go.  Hopefully the next time I log on, I’ll also be able to upload photos.  The current machine is locked down, with only keyboard, mouse, and monitor accessible.  Makes sense from a business perspective, but it is a tad annoying.  Ah well.

¡Hasta luego!

Adieu Paris and ¡Hola Burgos!

— Posted inUncategorized — 3 min read

After a delightful stay in Paris, I have finally made it to Spain.  The 14 hour bus ride from Paris to Burgos would have been quite relaxing except that the heat was cranked up after the first two hours.  People were in t-shirts, but somehow I neglected to pack any summer clothing so I had a very fitful sleep.  The last time I woke up sweating from the heat on a long distance coach was in Syria.  In that case, the air conditioning wasn’t up to the job but because it had A/C the windows were all closed.  In this case, I can think of no rational explanation.  I survived.

I arrived in Burgos at 8:00.  It was still dark, there was a light drizzle, and nothing was open yet.  I suppose I could have stayed in the bus terminal and bought a coffee and some sort of breakfast there, but at that point I was eager to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.  I left the terminal with no clue where I was in the city.  The Camino map I brought with me has things like churches, cathedrals, and hostels marked on the individual city maps, but no information about bus terminals.  (Since the idea is that you’re walking, that information would just be redundant.)

As I stepped out into the street, I heard a bell chiming the hour.  I followed the sound, thinking it would either be city hall or the cathedral.  It was the latter, and I finally had oriented myself.  The cathedral didn’t open for tourists and pilgrims until 10:00, so I found a small cafe.  Walked in, and noticed two lean guys with backpacks and wearing gaiters having their breakfast.  We nodded to each other, and I settled myself down.

After getting the first stamp in my pilgrim’s passport and seeing the cathedral (12th century Gothic, very big and a UNESCO World Heritage site) I bought a cheap mobile phone.  ATTENTION  CANADIANS:  We’re being ripped off.  For 19€ I got a basic Samsung model and 12€ worth of airtime.  That should do for the local calls I’ll be making.  After a quick visit to the local tourist information booth, I found the cybercafe I’m currently writing from.

Next on my agenda for the day is more coffee and then on to the nearest albergue (pilgrim’s refuge) for a hot shower.  I may even be back to this cyber cafe later to upload some photos. It’s conveniently located for me, although at 3€ per hour it will add up quickly if I’m not careful.

On Being in Paris

— Posted inUncategorized — 4 min read

Some observations from the past 11 days.

You may have heard that Parisians are rude.  I have yet to experience this.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  The first day I set out wandering on my own, I emerged from the Metro to street level and stood for a moment trying to get my bearings.  I pulled out the guidebook Sharif was kind enough to lend me.  As I stood there, a passerby came up and asked if I would like help.  Unlikely to happen where I come from.
You may have heard that Parisians refuse to speak anything but French with tourists.  The last time I sat in a French class was in 1984.  My accent is atrocious, my vocabulary is abysmal, and I have difficulty understanding people unless they are speaking slowly and clearly.  And yet, after the initial pleasantries are exchanged and I ask, “Parlez-vous Anglais?” the answer has usually been, “Little bit.”  (Or words to that effect.) All of the people I have encountered here have patiently worked with me in trying to communicate.  Even if I can’t think quickly enough to hold up my end of the conversation, I understand more than I am able to say.  Twenty Questions is a great game, as long as you have patience and a sense of humour.
Parisian drivers obey traffic signals.  This may not seem worth mentioning, but go back to my previous post and have a look at the countries I’ve wandered through.  Yeah.  This is pretty cool.
Parisian pedestrians do NOT obey traffic signals.  If the way is clear, they will cross against a red even with the police a stone’s throw away.
A decent cup of espresso can be had for about 1 € (or maybe as high as 1,20) in most bars, cafes, or brasseries.  Fresh baguettes are available on practically every corner, and cheese really is a staple.
Parisian girls (and by this I mean, women in their twenties) almost always seem thin, elegant, and sad.
Paris is surprisingly monochromatic.  Most of the people wear black, the buildings are almost all an off-white, it’s been overcast all but two days I’ve been here.  Apparently fall is glorious.
Art galleries.  Museums.  Exhibitions.  12th and 13th century churches with their doors open.  Free organ recitals.  If you’re even remotely interested in the arts, you will not be disappointed here.  Today’s concert in Saint-Eustache featured works by Liszt and Tchaikovsky transposed for organ.
The Metro is incredible.  With fourteen separate lines plus four or five lines in the urban train system the map can look a little intimidating, but everything is clearly marked.  If you don’t have time to walk, this is definitely the way to go.  Hop on the RER from either of the two international airports serving Paris and you’ll be downtown in under an hour.
Paris is actually a surprisingly small city.  Yeah, sounds crazy to describe an urban area with 11 million people as small, but the downtown is easy walking (if a little confusing) and even to go from one end to the other would only be a matter of a few hours.  Like many major cities, at certain times of day it may even be faster to walk than to take a bus or drive a car in the core.
When it looked as though my luggage had been permanently lost, I gave some thought to just staying here for the next month.  I could live here, at least until my money ran out.  However, if God wills, I’ll be leaving for Spain on Monday, arriving at my starting point Tuesday morning, and hopefully beginning the walking part of this pilgrimage on Wednesday morning.

The Art of the Flâneur

— Posted inUncategorized — 2 min read
I love getting lost.
That statement deserves some clarification.  One of my favourite activities is setting out to explore a new city with no particular agenda for the day.  Maybe I’ll have a map of the transit system or a basic guidebook, but maybe not.  Occasionally, I’ll even be able to communicate fluently with the people around me but most of my city explorations have occurred in locations where I don’t speak the language.  I have gotten lost in Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Turkey, Greece, the UK, Russia, Mexico, and now France.  Eventually I get tired of wandering and begin actively looking for the nearest Metro station or bus stop.
Paris is especially ideal for these aimless voyages of discovery.  I spent a good five hours on Friday walking in the downtown area, exploring street markets closed to traffic.  I doubled back a few times, took lots of photos, watched people, and then concluded my evening with a stroll from the Louvre to the Arc de Triomph.  The sidewalks are as broad as the road along this route, and the people of Paris were out walking, shopping, dining, lining up at the cinemas, and just generally enjoying life.
According to Wikipedia, a flâneur is “a person who walks the city in order to experience it.”   Paris is incredible.  Perhaps tomorrow I’ll write about my impressions of the city.  In the meantime, here are some of the photos I took during my perambulations.

Luggage Update

— Posted inUncategorized — 1 min read

Just a few minutes ago, a friend knocked on the door and announced he had good news for me, and bad news.

The bad news is that the lost luggage is no more.

The good news is that it is no more because it is here at the Institute.  It’s in the secretary’s office, so as soon as lunch is over I will head over there and reclaim it.  Then I suppose the next step is to un- and re-pack and then book my bus ticket to Burgos, where I will begin the walking part of this pilgrimage.  By the time I hit the road and start walking, I’ll have gained 10 days in Paris and several new friends.

update

— Posted inUncategorized — 3 min read

Well, I have finally set foot on the ancient Chemin de Saint-Jacques.  One of the main rallying points for pilgrims leaving Paris on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela was a large church located on the north bank of the river Seine, near Notre Dame.  Today all that’s left of this is the tower which is known as Chatelet.  I got off the Metro at that stop, took some photos, and then started to walk south.  The name of the street changes to rue Saint Jacques on the south bank at the church of St-Séverin.  I did make a slight detour to visit the Musée de Cluny – Moyen Age which was cool.  Lots of scallop shells on the walls and ceilings, but I think those are heraldic rather than an indication that the 15th century mansion housing the collection ever served as a hostel for pilgrims.
Then it was south again to l’église Saint Jacques Compostel.  The parish is now known as St-Jacques Haut Pas, but the older name has stuck.  There is a 14th century stone statue of St. James the Pilgrim, along with a prayer for the blessing of pilgrim’s sacks and staffs.  I spent some time there today.
Leaving the church and continuing south along rue Saint Jacques, I was surprised to see a large yellow stripe painted on the sidewalk just across from the church.  From this stripe (a starting line perhaps?) a thin dribble of yellow paint led down the sidewalk for about 20 m before stopping.  A block or so later, I noticed the first yellow arrow, pointing back the way I had come, towards the church.  The arrows lasted about two blocks.  Maybe a coincidence, but a pleasantly surprising one nonetheless.  (For those of you reading this who are not up on your Camino lore, the main path through Spain is marked by yellow arrows.)
When I got back to the Institut, I bumped into Martine.  She has been a God-send.  I’ve been well looked after by the community at St-Serge, and Martine has spent hours on the phone with Air France on my behalf.  Thanks to her, I will be receiving 100 € from Air France plus they will reimburse me for any supplies I have bought.

The good news from today is that they know approximately where my luggage is.  They delivered it to Provence.  Because Martine has kept calling and very politely but very deliberately pushed, it looks like I may get my luggage back this weekend.

I think I will go on to Spain on Monday.  I’ve lost a week of walking (about 150 km or so) so I will take a bus to one of the bigger cities further along the route.  I should be able to buy what I need there if my luggage doesn’t arrive in time.


I sure hope it does, because a battery charger for my camera will cost a minimum of 60 €, if I can even find one in Paris.  In the meantime, Sharif lent me his camera for the day.  Once he gets back from the library, I’ll ask him where the USB cable is and start uploading photos to Flickr.

a delightful day

— Posted inUncategorized — 3 min read
I now have more than just the clothes on my back!  This morning I went out to a department store and bought some clothes to wear: socks, underwear, a t-shirt, pajama bottoms, slippers.  Oh yes, and razors!  Things are not cheap in Paris and the items added up to 63 €.  Yes, I expect Air France to reimburse me fully.  Five days of wearing the same clothes was a tad inconvenient, and I still don’t know when I’ll be able to collect my luggage.

On a happier note, two people celebrated birthdays at St-Serge today, so there was a very nice lunch in the dining hall of the seminary.  This being France, there was a nice red wine with the meal.  This being a seminary established by Russians, there were shots of slivovits distributed as well.  After the tables had been cleared and we were drinking coffee, the singing began.  Last Thursday was the celebration of the Nativity of Christ here at St-Serge (and elsewhere in the Orthodox world) so Christmas hymns and carols in a variety of languages were the order of the day.

Later that afternoon, I headed out to run some errands.  My goals were to get my documents photocopied so I could submit the originals to Air France with my request for reimbursement, and also to cancel my train ticket and get my money back.  Successful on both accounts, with a little help again from Anne.
When I returned to St-Serge, I realized that it was only 7:00 in the evening and that I was feeling pretty good. Since the weather has warmed considerably over the past few days, I decided to head over to the Eiffel Tower again.  Even if the elevators were still shut down due to the weather, I could at least get a photo or two of the tower lit up at night.
Well.  The highest level is closed for some mid-winter repairs, but since the middle level is 120 m (394 feet) above street level, I had a pretty good view of things.  It was wonderful.  The noise from the traffic was still audible, but it actually added to the sense of peace and detachment I was experiencing.  The lights of the city are very pretty and I walked around the deck several times before I finally let the cold drive me back towards the elevator.  
I managed to get a few shots from on high before my camera battery finally died.  And guess where my spare battery and the charger are?  Well, actually I don’t really know where they are, other than in my luggage.  I sure hope the airline figures out how to deliver my things to me. Tomorrow morning after the ritual phone call to Air France, I intend to head over to Sainte-Chapelle again.  I will ask Sharif if I can borrow his camera.
I am very glad I’ve had this time in Paris, but I am also very eager to get on the road to Santiago de Compostela.  I had hoped to be in Roncesvalles this evening, after having walked across the border from St. Jean-Pied-du-Port.  Ah well.  Church starts less than five hours from now, so I suppose I ought to log out and get some sleep.