Camino Frances

Last night Ignacio arrived after 8 pm and we had diner at Santa Maria del Pazzo - an old monestary outside of Arzua. At 6:15 am we leave the place to head for O Pedrouzo were I left it off yesterday. Upon arrival a cocky American and an Irish girl welcome us while parking, “ Aren’t you fancy. You get driven to the Camino.” That exchange continues the whole day. The 2 will take the wrong turns at least 3 times and we call them and direct them onto the right way. They pass by us and fall behind us up hill.  Ignacio and I are hiking up the steep hills of the last challenge - even though my mind tells me: give up and get into a taxi! But I am far from doing that! We have about 21 km on the clock today. The first couple of km fly by fast!  I am so glad and thankful that Ignacio is walking with me again like 3 years ago. It’s good to talk to him and laugh with him on the first part. It makes me realise how important it is to have my friends and I can honestly say that I value ...

as my hotel in Arzua was at the very beginning of the town I had to walk about a kilometre to church and back. Since I got through the day though I felt I had all reason to be thankful. At church I run into my fellow pilgrim from Nottingham, Beverly. We were both happy about our reunion and decide to go to diner after mass.  Bev who considers herself a non- Christian comes to mass as well - the feeling of community and people who care about you in these pilgrim masses attracts everybody. The diner at Pensión Theodora was rather mediocre- non of their dishes were really fresh, but they had excellent Rioja vine. Unfortunately Bev does not drink so I am stuck with a bottle, but I realise soon it’s way too much for me. We simply donated the rest of the bottle to some friends Bev made on the way who are waiting for a table. I walk back to my hotel and get a good night rest. At 5 am I wake up without alarm and get ready for my hike to O Pedrouzo. The plan is to walk there and come bac...

from Palas de Rei to Arzua (30 km) After mass last night I had a snack in the little bar around from my B&B. The owner loved Spanish vine and introduced me to some white vines. So far I always thought Spain is just famous and good for phantastic reds - but their whites, especially Ribero und Marques der Murrieta, are excellent. When I wake up in the morning I realise that my left foot is completely swollen and that I can barely bend my foot. ‘ Get up and get ready. Stop looking for excuses to stay in bed,’ I push myself to start the day. In some guide books I red that today will be the day to relax the feet, because despite the distance it’s an easy walk. Let me look for an appropriate response to that thesis: BS!!! It’s a constant up and down with some really steep hills to cross. Just about at Melide my left foot is pressing so hard against my boot that I decide to change into my sandals. It’s still 15 km to go and I will never gonna make it in sandals, I try to convince myse...

From Portomarin to Palas de Rei For those of you who don’t know Ballermann: it’s a part of the island of Mallorca where drunken Germans and Brits  celebrate beer all day long. And there is nothing wrong with that it’s a choice I respect and honor. When I walk the Camino I would expect other things, but I guess as part of mass tourism - and the last 100 KM are frequented by short term holiday takers who want to maximise their pleasure, you have this phenomena of bowling clubs and big groups looking for a challenge on the one hand and party on the other hand. The hotel recommends a Physiotherapie place next door and so I want to try them out; maybe they can revive my legs. I get there on time for my appointment and the ‘boss’ practitioner puts me in a 3 m2 area surrounded by curtains only. This gives me a chance to listen into the many other conversations from other booths, the radio statio and the TV all at the same time. Even though he thinks I did not see that he covered up the...

from Sarria to Portomarin Last night I felt so thankful about everything that happened to me that I had to go to evening mass. Even though the church was up on a mountain towering over the city - so that meant: steep climb up and steep climb down back to the hotel.  Everybody of the pelegrinos in church seemed to be a little bit under the weather - no wonder with those ice cold mornings and rain showers during the day. Back in the hotel I deceive to have diner in the hotel which only starts at 8 pm ( we are in Spain after all). During the afternoon I noticed a group of 50 teenage female US soccer players checking into the hotel. After diner when I want to get to bed I realize that the hotel and the US guests are mighty alive. My little devil on the left shoulder tells ,e:” get up and tell them to be quite”. My angel on the right shoulder argues though:” come on. You were that age once too. Let them be excited and loud. Just put your ear plugs in.” After such a blessed day no won...

from Santa Maria do Poio to Sarria I did not realy feel like joining the diner table last night but since the host promised to cook a local speciality I could not quite resist. When I enter the room the host puts me together at one end of the table with a couple from Southern Bavaria: Gisela und Bruno. Now you may think that I could talk with them since they are from Germany, too, but communication was rather difficult. On the one hand side their southern Bavarian accent/ dialect allow me to understand only every second word and on the other hand Gisela talked like a water fall complaining about her daughter’s behaviour (16 years old and in puberty - so much I understood. After the Appetizers Bruno excuses himself and Gisela continues talking to me - she was the only one talking - only interrupted by some deep coughing and sneezing. ‘ Oh Gisela, oh Gisela...’ I am thinking. She complains about the poor weather yesterday which made her and her husband stay an extra night here etc etc. ...