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A little background about why.
When my husband first came up with the idea
of actually walking the breadth of northern Spain I thought
dementia was finally here. Walked into his head and threw out
reason. Why ever would anyone want to put
themselves in that misery? But he said he was going whether I
accompanied him or not. Then a perusal of websites and pictures
devoted to the Camino de Santiago de Compostela began to have an
effect.
Green Spain and the photos shared by other peregrinos
fuelled the wanderlust. The rash idea caught like a burr in wool.
We have previous experience with España and
remember the Spanish people as kind and friendly and generally
happy. Even though we lived there in the days of Generalissimo
Franco. The idea of trekking nearly five hundred miles became sort
of a personal recovery plan. To rescue ourselves from the
mediocrity of daily life in Vancouver. Getting fat, lazy and
winding happy hour back 15 minutes each day and then sleeping
through the six o’clock news!
But why the ‘Way
of St. James’? And such a distance? We are not Catholic, and
can’t even call ourselves religious. Is it a challenge in this late portion of life? A
last stand in our autumn before winter sets in?
My husband says he has a small tribute to pay
to Pope John Paul II because he believes he actually started the
crack in the Berlin Wall that eventually ended communism in
Eastern Europe. John Paul courageously went into his homeland Poland and pushed
religion in the faces of the communists to start the most
important process in any change of society – ideas.
So we started looking at the prospects of
such an undertaking. Since our earlier travels in Europe, we have
always dreamed of going back as two freedom seekers without
agendas or obligations. We are still wondering if this will be
possible. Money IS an object, and we are looking at our
possessions as how many dollars they will bring in towards our,
‘enablement’.

Then there is the issue of health. Pills are
part of life. Age is loitering in the shadows like a Batsquatch. Aches and pains
always remind us of that. But if we don’t go now, will we ever?
The
Camino Frances
begins at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in France
and you start out hard and cross the Pyrenees! And for the next 30
days you visit Pamplona, Logroño, Burgos, León, Astorga before
reaching the “City of the Apostle”, Santiago. Legend tells that
St. James' remains are buried on the site of what is now the city
of Santiago de Compostela. It is the proper pilgrims' route. And
2010 is a Holy Year.
So the challenge is intriguing. We need to
know what shoes to buy, what kind of packs to use, what to bring?
A small computer will be carried for internet access and to post
reports and Eletters. What clothes does one wear? We need to learn how to say “We’re wet and
tired and hungry” in Spanish.
It’s all in the beginning stages right now,
but as I said, the idea of this arthritic ramble has taken hold
and seems to have imbued a traveler's romance in with the mental and physical
challenge. An adventure looming like a glowing sunrise. Perhaps
even a spiritual journey. Yes, a pilgrimage.
I
want to be a peregrino too!
And now I have to say I am going whether he
accompanies me or not.
AJ - July 08/09
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