On the plateau above Le-Puy-en-Velay - on the first day of walking
"How can you explain that you need to know that the trees are still there,
and the hills and the sky?
Anyone knows they are.
How can you say it is time your pulse responded to another rhythm,
the rhythm of the day and the season
instead of the hour and the minute?
No, you cannot explain. So you walk."
~Author unknown, from New York Times editorial, "The Walk," 25 October 1967
It was something very special, the frisson of joy that I knew as I walked into the countryside at the top of the climb out of Le Puy. All going well, I was embarking on something that would let me be a walker in the outdoors for weeks and weeks to come. I have just returned home from a Camino gathering in Hamilton: how good it was to be with a group of people who had also walked, and who understood, who didn't need an explanation about 'why' you would do such a thing...
arrow someone has made in stone at a crossroads in routes
heading for Astorga on the beautiful, less-peopled 'countryside' option from Hospital de Orbigo
"How many of us are completely at ease with our own thoughts, comfortably at home in our own minds and bodies? I know I'm not always in this ideal state. Far from it. So solitary walking gives me the chance to explore a little the murky depths of my own mind, to clear some weeds from the muddy pool of my unconscious, to sort out my ideas and beliefs, to shine a little light into my soul, to reflect on God and the nature of life, death and the universe. And, with luck, to meet up with some interesting people, and enjoy a few beers with them along the Way..."
on the alternative track through the countryside,
from Hospital de Orbigo, en route for Astorga
"On the Camino in Spain,
I gradually discovered that the walking becomes the praying.
In putting one foot in front of another, in the tiredness, in the blisters, in the being at one
with myself, the landscape and God, in the mind quietening, in all this, walking, pilgrimage itself, became prayer."
I concur with Andy's words about walking. There is something mysterious about the rhythm of the feet meeting the earth for kilometres and days, enduring, that can place the soul in a place of prayer.
"Also met up with the Swedish church group who started in Samos.... They told us that we were the subject of their group discussion yesterday and that we are their 'Camino Heros'.....So just in case you want to know the criteria to become a subject for discussion for Swedish Lutheran church groups in the future its because:
- we told them yesterday that it hasn't really got easier for us but that we've just got more used to 'stopping the bitching and getting on with it';
-that no matter how long or short the distance the last 4 km of the day always kills us;
-that we haven't had a 'Camino crisis' but that we felt OK about that;
- that one of our strongest memories would be of laughing every day....
-after 800km and five weeks we had the less than shattering realisation that,
if given the time and opportunity to appreciate them, everyone turns out to be pretty much OK, even the bloody cyclists!"
Read the whole extract from Nell's blog here, and prepare to laugh!!! And I sooooo agree about the last 4km of the day- it's a universal rule- get used to the idea if you plan to walk the Camino- and it is especially pertinent if you can 'see' the endpoint!
In 2008 I walked for about eighty days in France and Spain, along the route to Santiago de Compostela. It was a simple life in which I noticed the 'little things' and learned to be more thankful.
In 2012 I walked again, from Cluny to Conques; then three weeks on parts of the Camino Frances.
These photo-text quotes/reflections are inspired by those walks.
My hope is that some others might also find them helpful. Margaret