Day 9. Hard push to Saria

Today, Tuesday was hard.  I had known that I was to climb the 'longest' pass on the pilgrimage but I wasn't expecting it to be that long.  In some ways it was harder than day ones hill because it just kept going and when you thought you had reached the top you turned a bend and there was more.  But in true spirit I pushes onwards upwards and passes many who had given up.   By now I had no sense of the extra weight I was carrying it was just what it was.  

This picture gives you a glimpse of the ascent and the road winding up the hill is where I had come from.  Awesome!

When I finally reached the top I was greated by the sound of a church service and singing going on in the small church at the top. 

It is said that the Holy Grail rests here, but I will need to research that on my return.  As it was I took a place at the back to listen to the French conducted service.  It was a welcome moment 

And so began my descent.  This was no where near as scary as Cuz de Fer and by now I was accustomed to descending with the weight. 

I stopped halfway down to take a picture if this statue.  I had been blessed with beautiful sunshine, but by the look of this pose it appears to be the exception not the rule.

I had decided by 5.00pm that my legs needed an early night. But I still made my 'stage' as I cruised into a beautiful campsite in Saria.  I even managed to sit in the sunshine and rest for a short while. 

I'm getting a dab hand at erecting my tent and home is soon established.  Wistful the bear is also enjoying the comforts of an already made recliner!!  Home sweet home 

Day 8 Cruz de Ferro 1504m

On my way to tackle the mountain range Montes de Leon I stopped off in Astorga to again have a look at the cathedral.  

As a backdrop to this town it was indeed stunning. I would really need to spend longer in such places but my heart was not in seeking the history but living the moment.

What was most sad was the collection of brain numbed alcoholics that frequented the grounds.  It was only 9.30 but they were already in oblivion. 

The mountain was calling.  

It turned out to be a gentle but long slow climb up through the olive trees and arid lands at the foothills.  The climb began to increase and the hairpin corners seemed to get steeper. But it was worth the climb. At one point I decided I had reached the top of the climb and as I descended I suddenly thought Blog! So yes good people I stopped turned around and climbed back up to the top point to give able to bring you this view

Breathtaking. 

Then came the second push up to Cruz de Ferro.   This is a very special place. A peregrine made monument close to the top of the mountain. It was actually featured in The Way 

You are asked to leave something of personal value at the cross to symbolise a shedding of sin and an unburdening of the soul.  I had to struggle to decide what to leave and was a little amused by the collection of inner tubes and has canisters attached to the pole. Then I realised what to leave.... No NOT my teddy bear!   But said bear did help by letting me leave his ribbon. After all he had been with me for three years too!

And so a small prayer at the post and I'm ready to descend.  This was going to be a challenge as I had never tried a steep descent on this bike with 13 kilos behind me.  

But as with all things on this Camino I was given what I needed in the guise if another fellow cyclist who had stopped to chat to a group of cyclists and help take pictures.  I mentioned the guide book suggestion of actually getting off and walking in one particularly bad spot that had claimed cyclists lives and he said he'd be happy to descend with me. Now my KVG friends will know I like a good descent but this was pushing my comfort zone.  

It was indeed very steep as we descended down 1000 meters over 10km. I was pleased it was dry and sunny and I didn't look over the edge but with experience from the Alps I was on my drops and feathering my breaks and my leg was firm on the outside pedal on the hairpins. (So glad I'd trained in he Alps!)

I did get off at the cobbled, drain scored stretch as I had promised myself I would.  It was only for 100m through the village of El Aceba and I was in no rush.  My companion stayed with me all the way down and when we finally took time to draw breath and say hello he introduced himself as Jaques.  How apt!  (Chemin St Jaques) 

We shared the road for another 30km before saying Buen Camino as I headed for a campsite and he searched for a room. 

So why not an Alberge? Because I do really like my cocoon of a sleeping bag and the possibility of the odd hedgehog poking in his nose to say hello.  I like the solitude and the rustle of the trees in the wind.  It just seems that this is what I want from my Camino.

So off to sleep as I have another long climb tomorrow.  I think the expression is Maniana but don't ask me to spell it !

Sad News from England

Today I learned of the passing of my dearest friend, colleague and mentor.  Joel, I will miss your light and wish you well on your final Camino.  In love and light, god bless you. 

Alberge

This was a fantastic experience.  As I walked through the door to a sunlit courtyard I was greeted by the owner Pablo and Belli.  A feast of salad and lentil stew followed.  After nights of salami and chorizo this was a welcome feast. 

The conversation was light and enlightening.  No one asked what do you do or where do you live but what country are you from and how long are you travelling.  Apparently my experience of the large alberge was typical for the municipal run hostels.  100-200 people housed in a hut.  Think battery hens and you have the image.  However this was a small beautifully designed rustic alberge.  The showers were modern and the bed was a welcome comfort.  I shared my room with another pelegrino who's name I did not know.  All in all a fantastic experience.  I was up and ready to roll at 8.00am. Good idea but very cold. The sun was not yet high  in the sky.  But today was to be the hill to the highest point so I wanted to head out early. 

I was given answers to some of my questions but the one that stuck out was the 20 year old women who said she wanted to strip everything away and to see who she was underneath.  

There were answers about spending time with uncle and nephew to take the time to really talk. And my latest? Because I need to get away so that I can think about my life without being disturbed by the day to day.  Each and every peregrine has an inner quest and a spiritual journey to fulfil. 

Although I was also told that some young people in Spain undertake the last section of the Camino so as to claim their certificate because it looks good on their CV !!! 

Day 7 Leon

I spent a fantastic night in a wonderful campsite called Eden. And it wasn't joking. The ground was soft and lush and for once my tent pegs went in easy. Up early ish and out for the flat ride to Leon. 

I stopped in Saghuan and saw my first real life Bull Ring. No bulls though. 

As you know  I don't much like stopping in the larger cities such as Leon but felt that it might be worth a quick look.  Well I wasn't disappointed. 

But that's just the bank..this is the cathedral 

After an ice cream in the sunshine 29 degrees, I set off to Hospital a further 30km down the road. But imagine my horror when arriving at the campsite at 7.45pm they told me it had just this day closed for the season.  

Now as part of my daily ruminations I had decided that I wanted to meet up with some of my fellow 'walking' pelegrinos. I had decided that they deserved much more respect than I had originally accorded and that the closer we were all getting to Compostela the stronger the sense of a collective goal. Almost Close Encounters of a Third Kind of feeling.

I have my suspicion that what is happening is a process of individuation. A stripping down to the core to see the self and then to rebuild oneself as part of a collective oneness. Well that's my take on Jung's individuation process but I may well have it totally wrong. :-) 

So tonight I am sleeping in my first Alberge and I will have time to ask the questions that have been crossing my mind. I want to ask one young and one older peregrino why they are walking the Camino 

End of Day 6

And just when they thought they were safe I rode into the last village of the day to find the fantastic Belgian peloton having a beer. Ha!! They were highly amused.  I am beginning to feel like a mascot! Great bunch raising money for charity. And they put me on their blog!

http://compostellabikers.blogspot.co.uk

Day 5. Really? Where is the time going

Today I found my stride.  I'd planned a very long day but had given myself the option of splitting it into two if I felt the need to "chill".  As I rode into Sante Dominico it was made for me. Actually I didn't quite ride in to the town, I'd been caught up by the Belgian peloton of charity raising pelegrinos I had bumped into on day 2.  It was good to see I was keeping a good pace but when they munched me into the group and turned up the pace I thought I'd expire! Actually you KVG peeps I'd like to say I kept up a good chain gang with them but when I wanted to drop off and elbow flicked them through they shouted "no no come on..." Just want to mention that they were full on carbon and no luggage.  I did us proud KVG. 

But the Cathedral was calling and i peeled away gasping as and I decided to hang up my shoes and be a tourist for an hour.  I'd made good time in the morning so why not?  And anyway Pilgrims are allowed some fun...

I

The cathedral did not let me down. I sat in quiet contemplation looking at a beautiful triptych on the crucifixion of Christ and tried to work out who all the women were at the crucifixion.  Home work I think. 

I also learned that depicting two hens with eggs is a symbol of abundance. 

I'm fast learning that asking people to help is actually ok and usually everyone is obliging. Even if your sticking your head through a hole and trying to tell them how to take a picture.

And finally in the cathedral I just had a feeling that I'd find St Catherine. I have mentioned her before as the Patron Saint of travellers specifically sailors.  But I had to laugh when I found her... 

It seems she has had trouble with her wheel too! 

Day 6 crossing the Meseta

The days ride was spectacularly desolate. The sky stretched forever and the land was scorched gold and brown.  If Les Landes of last year were monotonous the Metses was about perseverance.  I had a sense that life here is hard.  Arable farming appeared to be at the heart if the land and seemed to fashion the landscape  which contrasted magnificently with monolithic churches and redundant castles.  

Or maybe it was just the prescence of the vultures and buzzards circling overhead that gave this region it's sense of starkness. 

The only break to  the skyline was when it was pierced by huge "steel angels" turning their wings in the hot thermal breeze. 

But there was always a pelegrino fountain of cool fresh water to be found in every village I passed through.

And a photo opportunity. 

Onwards. 

Day 5 Burgos

As I left Santa Dominico I felt in very good spirits.  The sun was shinning and I had some kilometres to travel.  I wanted to get to Burgos for my next stop.   As I came to the top of long climb I was greeted to the sight of a welcome alberge in the trees. Perfect.  There were several on foot pelegrinos there sipping well earned cool beer.  There say was done. It was 4 o'clock and they were ready to rest for the evening. Actually we spent a good half hour chatting and swapping notes. So my remarks in the sharing of the journey are about to be altered.  It strikes me there are various levels of Pilgrim.  The Australian back packing full of youth and exhuberance and then there's the Aiken solemn Martin Sheen "The Way" pilgrim.  I think I know which camp I fall into.  So we solemnly chewed the cud and parted with pleasant exchanges all round. 

Another solitary pilgrim I came across had a Lynnard Skinnard badge instead of a shell.  I mused on this for no more than two minutes before bursting into song as I realised how appropriate a pennant it was:- 

"If I leave here tomorrow 

would you still remember me. 

For I must be travelling on now 

Cause theres too many places 

I've got to to see."

So I sang my way tuneless but happily into Burgos 

Another amazing cathedral awaited me but this one I saw only from the outside as I had to find the campsite and get sorted for the evening. 

By the way the sky is real!!!

The night at Burgos was loud and noisy and a huge campsite. But again I was bowled over by the generosity of people as I was shown the way into town by a Spanish couple who spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish but we seemed to get along just fine.  How dies that work! 

And this morning I was handed an unsolicited cup of coffee from my neighbouring campers as they applauded my bravery at travelling this journey.  

In our busy fraught lives I think we can loose sight of the golden hearted nature of many of our fellow beings.  

Visitor

Last night I had a visit from a hedgehog. It shuffled into my tent to see if I had any food.  But I woke thinking it was a fox and shouted at it.  Poor little thing made like a ball.  I didn't get chance to grab a piccy, as soon as I reached for my phone it dashed off under the fly sheet.  Sweet! 

Day 4. Rolling

Today was a great ride.  I set out from the deserted alberge (these pilgrims start early it would seem) and headed into the sunshine. It had rained in the night so for the first time I had to contend with a wet tent. Simples! Roll it up and worry a out it later. 

Plenty of steady climbs and sweeping descents.  In some places the roads  were busy but not that scary and always with a wide hard shoulder to ride on. It's quite remarkable cycling along beside two lanes of traffic and seeing lone cyclists hacking up the side.  But that's what you do. 

I was a bit peed off with my guide book which professed that there was not much to see along a major part of the ride   This guide must have been a buildings fanatic because I could see very little wrong with the acres if rolling vineyards and terracotta earth.  The hills at just so expansive it's breath taking.

Mind you there are indeed monasteries and churches everywhere. All pretty and inspiring but also very crowded with curious pilgrims.  I confess to just carrying on although I must try to stop and take a few more pictures.  

After Pamplona  I vow not to stop in major cities or circuit round them and to always push on and find a campsite in the hills so to speak. Talking of which I glowed with pride as I came across a fellow whom I had passed on the largest hill of the ride so far. 

Carlos was travelling with two new friends picked up on the way. He was concerned as the woman Mikka was struggling. I took one look at this lady and reached into my bag to give her one of my precious (only carrying three) gels.  Carlos explained that he'd been telling Mikka how she should not be put off and to push on as only the other day he been overtaken by a speedy woman (me!) who climbed like a Brazilian!!! Well  I was so chuffed. I suggested she eat more drink frequently and not to push so hard.  She seemed more at ease and I left them all with much cheerful high fiving and Bueno Camino and set off to see if I could find a few more hills to play on. 

In Estelle I finally bought a new tyre so I was now feeling happy. 

Tonight I'm camping in a fantastic site in Navrette. I pitched my tent and headed back into town in search of a real meal. I haven't eaten properly and it's not good. So taking myself in hand I found a bar serving the pilgrims  menu.  This was bread water minestrone soup, chicken escalope and chips and finished with yoghurt honey and walnuts.  All for 12 euros. 

I seem to add amusement to wherever I pitch up and they always seem to know I'm a pelegrino. Maybe the Keith Richards look of bandana and unkempt hair  is getting a bit extreme.

Note to self. Buy a comb

So back to camp and a quick brew before bed. Oh yes I will always make room in my bag to carry a tea bag or two and a kettle so to speak. 

 

Day 3 in brief

Well I'd like to say it was amazing but you know what? It was just a rubbish day. That's if you look at it in terms of miles cycled.  I had a puncture which really is no biggy but when I went to change said puncture I realised I had made the mistake, yes this is numpty time, of having put my knacked race tyre on the front. I'm surprised I'd got this far.  

But the thing is this is all part if the journey.  I proceeded to try to find a tyre having patched up the hole in Pamplona. But siesta time meant I had to hang around for three hours . When i did find a tyre it wasnt the right kind, beung a purist continental four season tyre tourer type. Now had I been listening instead if kicking myself for the mistake I'd have stopped and had a bit of a tourist day but I didn't.  Instead I enjoyed the cycle paths of Pamplona and took time out to chat to various campers who kept reappearing from the previous nights camp site.  In fact it turned out to be worthwhile just to do this. I haven't quite got to grips with the connections yet but if you have ever read the Celestine  Prophecy you will know what I'm burbling about.  

Finally got on the road at about 5 without a new tyre and decided to get out of the city and trust in my guardians to keep me safe from punctures. 

I ended up in an alberge on top of a hill along with a hundred or so pilgrims! Oh company i hear you say but alas it appears this pilgrimage of mine is meant to be solitary. I was not a happy bunny Thankfully I had my tent and had space unlike everyone else who were sleeping on mattresses on the floors. 

So I have decided that all thoughts of regret had i ever had them of not having backpacked around Australia with everyone else has been Totally resolved. 

Or maybe the truth is simple - I'm just a grumpy oldish git. 

The silence you have on the bike is so precious and the contrast was huge. 

Note to self buy earplugs 

On the upside This was the view from my personal balcony.  Oh and I tried bacon and green chilli butties for supper.  Think it's good I have my own tent really.

And in case you were wondering!

I have had a request as to how I did it so here you go:- Bike in a tent.

Day 2. On top of the Pyrenees

Today it rained, it rained hard. but in the true style of a Cumbrian lass a bit of water wasn't going to stop me. As I climbed to the top of the Pyrenees I couldn't help thinking how awesome this was.  Yes it was a little miserable and the descent from the top was a little tricky! But I felt great.  The extra weight was not as bad as I had thought. It felt the same as climbing in the Alps but this time I could only go at a gravity laden speed. And all on all that was good enough for me.  

So I reached the top of the Ibaneta pass in fog and rain.  Stopped to get off and take the picture (bike is in it) and just breathe in the silence and the air.  There were many pelegrinos of all nationalities on foot and the game was to try to work out how to say hello in the language that looked appropriate.  "Hola" seems my best option now but not knowing any Spanish is a bit difficult.  Note to self buy a phrase book. 

It was cold on the way down but I had decided to keep going for Pamplona   There were masses of cyclists making there way up the hairpins as I was coming down.  Seems to be a bit of a hotspot.  

So now it's tent erected and I have brewed my first cup I camping tea! Marvellous. 

All in all another fine day! 

Day 1. In brief

Flew to Biarritz where I took over the airport lounge to assemble my bike.  Have everyone a great deal of entertainment!!  Pushed my bike and dragged my bag containing cut up bike box to local dechetterie.  Dumped bag and box and cycled 30 miles or so to St Jean Pied Porte.  Beginning to enjoy night riding. Arrived at municipal camp site 9.45pm and pitched my tent in the dark.  Note to self buy a head lamp.   Tucked up in my tent with my bike and my bear.  Bliss.  Ready to roll tomorrow.   

Ohh my poor bike!!

Sweepstake! Will I ever get my bike back together

Here we are at the airport and my trusty steed is squished in this box.  I have to trust that it will all come good.  Faith! And a set of Allen keys and a spanner. :-)

How hard can it be?

So I'm sitting quietly on Sat morning thinking that I have three days till I depart and what a great time I will have calmly preparing for the beginning of stage four to Compostela.  Yeah right! Who's kidding who! SNCF are on strike on the day I travel. So I can't get down through France unless I hide my bike in my handbag and sleep in a six birth cabin. No way!!!

As stress gave way to panic and ended with me getting in my car and saying "right I'll fix this" i was beginning to doubt it was doable.  But where there's a will there's a mad pilgrim.

I leave by airplane on Monday morning !!! I am praying to the universe to look after my bike in the box I cadged from Everndens cycles in Paddock Wood.  (Thank you Tony and the guys for being so damn helpful. )

Still at least I have an extra day to cycle 490 miles and climb 32,000 feet :-)  no probs....  yeah right!

All along the watch tower...

And so I arrive at my final point for this trip.

Here I am at the Porte De St Jaques. This is the traditional medieval door way that all pilgrims travelling through France would have entered.

But I have a big question, if this is my end how come it feels like just the beginning. I now have my Carnet de Pelerin de Saint Jaques. (chemin passport) and my first stamp!!

My last thoughts were given voice as a young waiter ambled happily across the road singing Bobs (Jimi??) classic. "There must be someway out of here....said the joker to the thief, there's too much confusion, I can't get no relief..."

Alors! Until next time...

S

Finis.....

Well I have done it. I'm here and yes I took the wiggly road but no I missed the big hill. Strange that I took a wrong turn that happened to by pass the hill. Actually I went to have a look and said to myself yes I can do that but no I'm not going down just to come back up to prove a point.

However, I have not quite finished as tomorrow morning I am going to go to the official St Jean de Vieux and I will post a picture of celebration so bear with me on this one.

But for now here is where I will lay my very weary head for the night. It's a few miles further on (another wiggly road) from St Jean de Pied in the hamlet of Esterencuby. There was no room in the hotel so I have my very own Chalet sleeping six!! And to top it all it has it's own small church.(the village not my chalet!!) I missed sitting inside so sat happily contemplating my trip on the church steps.

I won't mention the horror of two coach parties being entertained with a accordion music! Thankfully they departed but I did have a great conversation with one of the inmates on the fantastic results by Wiggins! All. In all a good, hard day..... And the Garmin lied, it was only 4500 feet all told in 65 miles. Simples.

Three pilgrims on bikes...

I have met with my first pilgrims. I spied two unlikely looking figures perched atop of two much too small beaten up bicycles. As I drew closer I saw they were carrying their belongings on their backs in misshapen old rucksacks. A little closer and I saw the two or three spare tyres strapped to the front alongside a glass bottle or two of water. I kid you not they even had children's fluorescent sparkly cycle streamers to warn the oncoming traffic.

Now what I write should bring a smile as I'm not mocking merely bemused.

As I draw alongside to say hello I am greated by the father. His son (mid 20s) appears a little too taciturn but then he was carrying the bigger load! The simplicity of our conversation as to where from and where to brought a glow to my heart. They were indeed on their way to Compostella. They were just doing it bit by bit and slowly slowly. 30km a day. Bon Courage I say... As we parted I smiled at the joy of having dispelled all images of hessian sack staff bearing pilgrims. Fantastique!

What lies ahead

Oh my goodness. I have just come up over a hill south of Dax and the Pyrenees lie before me. I was going to put in a photo but they just wouldn't do it justice. I am hoping that I am going to the foothills not all the way up and over. Not yet. Need a bit more practise and a little less pannier to get over them !!! Awesome

Oh the dilemma

So here it is in the image below you will see a long straight red line heading into St Jean de Pied. Right to left across the map. Just above it you will see the alternative wiggly road. The later has more hills and a Col to take on too. So what shall I do? Hmm now let me think!!!

Weather is perfect and it's only 1.30 pm and it's 18 miles to climb an apparent 4,000 feet???

Ok Wistful let's see what we can see.

Les Landes

They were remarkable. From my guide I had been warned about the monotony of this landscape but I was unprepared.

The roads stretched out way in front as far a the eye could see. Zero percent gradient and little wind. Perfect for the first 20 miles but then what do you do? I sang, had full conversations with myself and spent hours inside my head. Then came the revelation. This was exactly what the wilderness was meant to be. No Thing. So I tried as hard as I might to stay in the moment and savour everything around.



Another mad ramble.... Time is really only measured in your head. The journey started and finished and where I went in between was up to me. I could see it as minutes or think of it as hours. As it was I fell in love with this area The smell of sun bleached pine trees does it for me every time.

I have a video which I'll try to upload so watch this space. Literally!!!!

Well it appears that I neglected to notice that I have to climb 7000 feet with my panniers etc tomorrow. So of today was flat? I hope they didn't smooth out all the hills to the end of France jut for me! Gulp.

What on earth?

This was the cafe I stopped at for lunch. I had to share this as its just surreal! And I thought I was off my head?

After Bordeaux

This was always going to be a hard day. Because I had decided this would be a hard day it was going to be! However after struggling out of Bordeaux I fell into the way of the Roman roads through Les Landes. Now I haven't quite worked out what this means but I do know it's flat and the landscape is pine trees. The noise is terrific. The cri cri insects are out in force. So head down I put on some miles as today is 105 miles. This is why today is going to be hard because for the first half I have to just peddle

At one point I thought my day was up as the road stopped short of forcing me to take the A10 motor way. They were rebuilding the road I wanted to take. But as luck(yeah right) would have it a farmer was stood by the Barrier. He saw my dilemma and waved me through onto the new road. Ok so there were no niceties to the sides of the road but it stretched for miles and it was all mine!

At the end of the stretch I was greated by this signpost.