Another way

My luxury stop at Zamora was not totally blissful. I'd been there just a short time when ugly and painful insect bites appeared on my arms. I was puzzling over where I'd encountered mozzies when the wretched truth dawned on me - the origin of my bites were probably the dreaded bed bugs, and the scene of the crime was likely the albergue where I thought I'd spent the night in splendid isolation. Splendid isolation, my foot, I'd obviously had quite a bit(e) of company!!

Fortunately a few measly (but grossly uncomfortable) bites were not going to detract from my enjoyment of a taste of luxury. After my two days of luxury I awoke to find that the bites were now complemented by an upset stomach. What next? Previous Camino experience had taught me that minor ailments are not to interfere with the day's progress. This day I had hoped to move on from Zamora to Riego del Camino, a major effort of 31 Km. Well, let's get on with it!

By lunchtime I had reached Montamarta. I took weak tea at the bar in deference to my delicate stomach. I also decided against cutting short my day at Montamarta. I would continue on a further 11.8 Km to Fontanillas de Castro. I set off out of the town and past the Ermita de la Virgen del Castillo.

The scenery was quite beautiful but, alas, there was absolutely no shade and the afternoon sun was beginning to bite. I met up with a South African pilgrim and we walked together. He was concerned that his diminished water supplies were fast reaching boiling point in the scorching heat. The temperature was surely around the 40 degree C mark. Making some comment about idiot walkers, we simply had to keep going, there was no option. We literally crawled into Fontanilles. It was a one horse, one very poor bar town/village. As with most small Spanish centres at that time of day there was absolutely no one about, and all was well-and-truly shut, shuttered and bolted. Eventually we found a Spanish pilgrim who was doggedly determined to walk a further 4 Km to Riego del Camino where there was an albergue. The South African thought to accompany him. 4 Km is no great distance but at that time, it was utterly beyond me. I said I would trudge back to the bar and enquire of any bus services. I did this. There was a bus, but I simply couldn't understand the barman's instructions. Two young men outside the bar showed interest and, in time, I understood the bus would stop further down the road and to the left. I trudged to what might have been a bus shelter. I couldn't sit inside it -it was like an oven, literally. I sat on the ground outside in the shade. In time, (and not a short time) a bus came along. Despite my most vigorous gesticulations, it sailed right past. Now, what would I do? I can't spend the night here because, once the sun goes down, it could get quite cold. By now I was utterly exhausted, so what did I do? I fell asleep. Right there in this odd, little Spanish village, propped up against a bus shelter, I slept for at least an hour. When I woke, I felt a little better. The sun was still strong. I wandered further into the village and found shade outside the building where the doctor visits twice a week. I slept some more.

On next waking, it was getting on in late afternoon. I had to do something. My state would probably now allow a further 4 Km walk. I set off, but this time I followed the road. I hitch- hiked as I walked. No one stopped!! I trundled into the village of Riego del Camino, my original destination for the day. How about that?  I scoured the village looking for an albergue. I asked, and followed the directions I was given to the best of my understanding. And still, no albergue. I acknowledged that my bed bug encounter had certainly made me wary of albergues, but surely not to the point of denying their existence. Yet I could not find any accommodation in this place.

The next town was Granja de Moreruelo. My guide book told me there was both a local shelter (albergue) there and a hotel. Granja was a further 6 Km. What was that after what I'd already covered? I set off for Granja. It was now 7 pm. Surely I'd get there by 9. It is still light until after 10, so I should be OK.

I easlily found my way out of the village and made good progress. Unfortunately the Camino runs through an extended region where major roadworks are underway. It seems to me that road builders show little respect for yellow arrows. They quickly disappear and, within minutes, the pilgrim can be totally lost. And this is what happened late in the evening to me.

The Camino was meant to run parallel to the road into Granja. This made sense. When the yellow arrows disappeared, I found myself on a track getting further and further away from the road - and there was major motorway construction between me and the road. I determined I needed to get onto the road and stay with it. I was faced with a deep cutting excavation separating me from the road. There was nothing for it but to go cross country. I slithered down the embankment on the near side, crossed the somewhat muddy, rough and unfinished motorway formation, then I was faced with scaling the far embankment. Despite my weary state I battled on. I'd make good progress, ascend so far, then miss a foothold and slither downward. I could only see the funny side of the situation. Here I was, doing a geriatric Bear Grylls act for all the world to see - and no one was watching! (This was probably just as well!) I lost a precious small bottle of water, but there was no way I was going down after it.

Finally I surmounted the crest. I ploughed through a cereal field and clambered up the small embankment to the road shoulder. I had about 5 Km of road walking before Granja. I entered the town around 9 pm (my latest arrival time yet). I made to go through the town to seek out the hotel. A family on the roadside bailed me up, pointing to the albergue I'd deliberately passed. To reinforce the point, the male kindly led me across the road and into the establishment. Ah well, I was too tired to argue, and probably grateful to have the decision made for me. As it happened, the albergue was excellent.

 I had the most wonderful sleep, and rose surprisingly fresh and early the next morning.

This has been a mammoth entry, and for those readers who have stayed with me, I say, "thank you". I would also record that, with the whole experience, I feel WONDERFUL. I can't explain it. It was truly a  gruelling day, but I learnt so much from it. The sense of achievement I feel at overcoming so many obstacles is something most precious. God is teaching me much in this Camino. I have more to say about this. I hope you stay with me.

It is said that the Camino is a profoundly personal experience. Each person walks "their own" Camino. This day I think I might have walked a Camino that no other person has, or ever will, walk. And I thank God for the opportunity and experience.

Contrasts... and contentment!

The contrasts that I noticed in Salamanca last weekend have arisen again in Zamora, and with a strong personal experience. I've scheduled another rest day. This is perhaps not the best planning because I've only walked for three days since my last rest day. Still, it will be at least 11 days before I can sensibly take more time out, so I shall enjoy another short break.

I liked the look of Zamora from my first sighting in the distance. As I approached the city, my liking got stronger.

When I checked into my hotel and entered my room ( actually a mini suite) my liking was absolutely confirmed - and "Contrasts" came clearly to mind.

Let me illustrate. On Tuesday night I stayed at the village of Villanueva del Campean. On first arriving there appeared to be no facilities whatsoever - not even a human to enquire of. In time, I found the municipal albergue and a bar run in the local Ayuntamiento by the town mayoress! I had the albergue to myself ans spent the night in splendid isolation (and quite enjoyed it!).

Compare this with my present environment:

Need I say more?

Contrasts!!

I think I must have had a rush of blood to the head when I booked this hotel some months ago. It is SO luxurious. Still, I can handle it! For two days I shall switch from spartan Peregrino to relaxed traveller and sightseer. The change will not be difficult. I plan to enjoy two days of rest (minimum walking) and recreation (in essence, taking it easy). Yet when I resume walking in two days time it will be no hardship. I can readily make the change and, likely, I'll be ready to embrace it.

I think I'm beginning to get what Paul refers to as "being content". In his letter to the church at Philippi he says: "...for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want."  (Phil. 4.11b - 12).

I'm not sure that I'm yet fully there in a state of contentment, but I'm getting there.

Paul follows his declaration with the words: "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (V13).

This is surely the truth!

"Are we there yet?"

Monday was a day not to be forgotten. As Sunday was a rest day (which I thoroughly enjoyed), and especially as I had a room to myself, I decided on a deliberate late start from Salamanca - a touch of sheer indulgence.

The day's walk ahead of me gave two options, either a short walk to Calzada de Valdumciel (15.5 Km) or an extended walk to El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino (35.5km). In my mind I'd more or less decided on the shorter option. But, on waking, I realised that to get to my hotel reservation at Zamora on Wednesday would require either the longer walk on Monday or a 33 Km walk on Wednesday. I really didn't want to arrive at Zamora weary after a long hike, so the thought entered my mind to pull a naughty today  - and catch a bus ("Oh, horror!" Cry the Camino purists!) If I could get a bus to cover the first 10 Km, then I'd give a go at the longer walk.

The hotel concierge confirmed that there was a bus to Castellanos de Villiquera (10km). She wrote a name on paper  for me, and pointed me to the Gran Via, literally around the corner from the hotel. I found Gran Via to be littered with bus stops, but I couldn't find the one I needed. I went into a bar for breakfast. The barman responded to my enquiry by directing me up the Gran Via. There I found a number of stopping places for "out of town" buses, but not mine! Bystanders directed me down the Gran Via. Here I found other stops - other than the one I need. This time I'm directed up the Gran Via. At this point I could see myself endlessly tramping the Gran Via like a lady of the night. I decided to begin walking out of Salamanca, and see if I found a bus stop on the way.

When I was virtually out of the city, and with no sign of a bus stop, I finally got it - and cried out, "OK, Lord, I've got the message. You win. We'll do it Your way. You obviously don't want me to catch a bus today so -I'LL WALK!"

The walk was pleasant, off the road and through open country.

After about 5km I stopped at the first village, Aldeaseca de Armuna, for refreshment. The ego had obviously not given up because I asked in the supermarket if there was a bus to the next village. To my amazement they didn't know! Then I twigged, "Right, Lord, You're obviously making sure I walk today." As I left Aldeaseca, I had a thought to carry on to the shorter destination of Calzada de Valdunciel and then take a lengthy stop - maybe even have lunch. After some time out I could then decide whether to continue to El Cubo. When I stopped briefly at the next village, Castellanos de Villiquera, I discovered that Calzada was a mere 4 Km away. I quickly reached it.

After the anticipated "long" lunch stop (during which I enjoyed an excellent meal) I decided to continue on to El Cubo. And so it was that at 2.30 pm I set off for another 20 Km. The walk was pleasant enough and the after noon slightly overcast which made for ideal walking conditions. I was particularly challenged at one point when the way involved considerable up-and-down, repeatedly. Eventually I lobbed into El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino at 7.15pm - my latest finish yet. I was weary yet, surprisingly, not over so.

The albergue was great, and the hospitalera an absolute delight. After a most welcome and refreshing shower it was not long before I was in bed. I totally crashed, and slept well, content and feeling "oh-so-good" after my mammoth 37km walk. What a day!

Changes

Today is a rest day in Salamanca. I have walked "seriously" for the last thirteen days. I'm hoping today to walk only those distances that are necessary for physical and spiritual sustenance, and give my feet a rest.

Salamanca is a beautiful old city with many fine buildings.

Arriving yesterday (Saturday) the weather was fine and sunny but a little windy.

Earlier in the week we passed from the province of Extremadura into that of Castilla y Leon. This change was accompanied by a noticeable change in landscape. The wide, flat, high- country plains

Have given way to undulating ground with hills and mountainous parts.

The open grassland 

Has been replaced with trees and streams 

And slowly, small towns and villages are becoming more frequent along the way.

Yesterday's entry into Salamanca brought a change that was almost a shock to the system. From days of seeing small villages and, literally, a handful of people we were catapulted into a busy and - compared with tiny villages - a "big" city bustling with people.

The contrast was clear and most arresting. In some respects it felt wrong to be here. The city and it's bustling, preoccupied inhabitants and visitors seemed almost a rude interruption to the calm and leisurely Camino journey. This was clearly brought home with the local "Blues Bros" entertainment.

However, after my "still" day today I shall continue on the road tomorrow and, in the shortest time, I'll be back to my peaceful and idyllic rhythm.

But I will be minus some precious companions I have come to know and love in the recent past. Several of my fellow Caministas are departing from Salamanca for home and work. We have walked together, shared meals and enjoyed multi- lingual conversations together. I shall miss them. I hope they have received something good out of my company along the way. I know I am the better for meeting and knowing them.

But life goes on and, like many of my recent Camino experiences, the changes that are now happening mirror the incidents of life. I see us, in life, walking into and out of each other's journeys. Sometimes we travel long with another. At other times the sharing of the road may be brief. In this, the Camino is a very real and personal illustration and imitation of life. In all journeying, whether I'm on a transitory Camino walk or the longer journey through life I endeavour both to receive good from and impart good to my fellow travellers. I trust this has been the case with my Camino amigos. I pray it continues through the whole of life.

I thank God for the beautiful people I've met in recent weeks. Indeed I thank God for all the beautiful people I meet. I commit each one of them to Him for His protection and blessing.

International Brotherhood

When I walked the Camino Frances in 2011, I met and connected with a small number of people of differing ages, different nationalities, and of both genders.

Last year on the Camino Portugues my Camino companions were almost all female -and particularly Scandinavian and Dutch.

This year, so far on the Via de la Plata all those I've met and walked with have been male, and generally over 50 years old.

It fascinates me how we have the opportunity to connect with people of all ages, nations and stages of life. And the Camino is the most wonderful catalyst to opening up relationship and closeness.

Last Saturday, after a relatively minor (19 Km) walk, I arrived somewhat hot and weary at the village of Grimaldo. A Casa Rural - La Posada de Grimaldo - had been recommended to me. As I registered, I connected with one of two Canadians I'd met at the stop the night before. While we were talking, the other guest at the Posada appeared. I didn't recognise him, but he recognised me. He was the Italian I'd met on the road into Merida a week before.

Later in the afternoon I was sitting quietly in the courtyard when the second Canadian arrived, attended by the Spanish host. In no time a small international community was assembled in the sunny courtyard - the two Canadians (one French, from Quebec, the other Chinese from Ontario), the Italian from Rome, the Spanish host from Carceres, and myself. In a little while we were joined by a Scottish pilgrim who was passing the open garden gate and recognised the two Canadians.  A  couple of hours passed in gentle, stimulating and insightful conversation. We learnt much of each other's countries and experiences. Later, when we adjourned to a local restaurant for dinner, we were joined by a Frenchman. The amicable conversation continued and great fellowship was enjoyed. Was it the relaxed atmosphere of this Camino outpost that facilitated such genuine exchange? Maybe! There certainly is something about taking time out and immersing oneself in the simplest of lifestyles - just walking, enjoying the relaxed countryside, appreciating whatever company comes along, and feeling completely and utterly contented and at peace with the world.

Our interactions and exchanges were so easy, positive and affirming. I couldn't help thinking if a handful of individuals can achieve such understanding and mutual appreciation, why can't countries do so?

Corrections

I have a couple of corrections to make to the previous posting "Where am I Going?". 

In the penultimate paragraph "coquetry" should read "country", and a little later the text is meant to read "and an assurance..." I apologise for not making correction on the original. The truth is, I simply couldn't! My iPad just wouldn't allow me. The wonders of modern technology!

Where Am I Going?

Before leaving Carceres I enquired at the Tourist Office for the way out of the city onto the Camino. The obliging young man marked up a map for me. I was glad of this because, when the time came for departure, the map was all I had to rely on. There were absolutely no signs whatsoever along the way.

I knew I had to pass the Plaza de toros. Then I was to take the CC - 38 road out of town. I needed to walk on the roadside for 2 - 3 Km (not too bad as traffic was light) before a dirt road would appear on the left to take me to Casar de Caceres. This all played out as it was meant to, but still there were no indications on the ground that I was going the right way. The dirt road turn off was a major gamble for me. I took it because it's location was roughly where I'd been told it should be,and there was no other option in sight. The very first yellow arrow I saw was as I entered Casar de Caceres, 11km later. The thought entered my head - what if I'd walked 11 Km in the wrong direction? Thankfully, I had not!

I've managed to lose the way a few times to date. Fortunately each time I've eventually recovered direction. Two occasions in particular stand out for me. The first occurred when I was not too far from the day's destination. Somehow I managed to take a direction quite opposite to the way I was meant to go. When I realised my error it was too late to turn back. Now, I'm quite sure that I'm walking this Camino (indeed every "Camino") with Jesus. Realising I was lost I cried out ( quite foolishly it now seems to me) "Lord, why have you got us lost?"

I saw traffic way ahead in the distance. I set out toward it and eventually came to a motorway. On a side road I flagged down a driver and asked directions to my destination. It meant quite a trek along a very busy road. I reckoned if God wanted me to go the extra mile, then I should oblige. But this was ridiculous - it added about 6 Km to my journey!

My second adventure involved a turn off from the highway onto a dirt track. The signage was not too clear, yet there seemed to be only one way to go. I set off cheerfully. I tramped and tramped with a growing sense that I might be heading the wrong way. Eventually I came to a farm. From what I saw the inhabitants seemed to be just sheep and dogs. I did however find one human. When I enquired for the Camino he gave me directions I simply didn't understand. He then led me through the farmyard, we tramped through some undergrowth and arrived at the side of a river. He announced, "there's the Camino". It was on the other side of the river. He then indicated that I should cross to the far bank. Then he was off! The river wasn't too wide, maybe 15 m, and there were stepping stones. The challenge was that the first stepping stone was two strides out from the very slippery bank where I precariously held my balance. I thought, 'here goes' and put my foot, sock and boot complete, into about 300 mm of cold water. The second foot followed before I positioned myself on the first stepping stone. There followed something that would have fitted well into a Charlie Chaplin movie. I was considerably relieved to reach the far side and clamber clumsily up the bank. It was truly a miracle that only my feet ended up in the water! It appears that the good Lord sometimes lets us get our feet wet.

Many, if not all,the lessons I learn on the Camino are applicable to life in general. I can receive this and seek to make appropriate use in daily living of what I learn on the way. It looks like God allows us to lose our way occasionally. I recall the Israelites journey out of Egypt into the Promised Land. It took them forty years. They could have done it in a matter of weeks, but God had so much to teach them on the way that it took so much longer. Also, as I've already hinted, sometimes God allows us to get our feet wet.

I have realised that my step is jaunty and my demeanour altogether confident when I see the yellow arrows and I know I'm going the right way. But when the arrows haven't appeared for some time, the very coquetry seems to take on an alien appearance. Doubt creeps in, my pace lessens and suddenly I feel tired and uncertain. And so it is in life. When I give myself to follow God's way there is a lightness in my step and as assurance about me (this I describe as my confidence - which is in Him, and not in me). When I'm out of step with God it's just like when I lose my way on the Camino - I pull out all the stops to find it again.

I'm walking the Camino with Jesus. I also set out to walk every day of my life in His company. This does not mean I may not lose my way from time to time but, if I remember that He is with me - always - then I can look to Him to bring correction.

PS.  I thought I'd well-and-truly covered yellow arrows in an earlier post. Then I came across this one. I call it:

THE ULTIMATE SIGNPOST

To me it points the way out of the garbage and up to heaven.

Cheers.