Via la plata blog - Day 10

Following one of the Pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela

From Villafranca de los Barros to Torremegia - 28k

Day 10 - 18th April 2010

The lovely Mama of the household had washed all our clothes properly (even after I'd made my own stunning attempt in the shower as usual to wash my kit) and put it all out on the lines across the courtyard. Retrieving my washing from the huge pile in one of the downstairs rooms where it had been retrieved from the courtyard overnight before it rained. We were all sat around a big table having breakfast, Richard, Dick and Judy were there and a few new faces like a group of Spaniards I'd been seeing for a few days. One of them made quite an impression on me, Lourdes, if ever there was a reason for continuing this walking lark when sore and in pain, there's a good one, seeing her again. Maria reminded me of Grace Jones, statuesque, quite stern looking but a sweetheart and the guy with the most amazing curly hair I've ever seen, Enrique... (pronounced more like enrick?). I would describe it as being like Marge Simpsons, only grey and white and tied up down his back instead of tall and blue rinsed...

I thanked our hosts profusely after writing in the guestbook my memories of my stay and a glowing recommendation and commented that she had been my Spanish Mother to which I got an even more enthusiastic kiss and hug goodbye than everyone else did, although she was fastidious in making sure we were all ready and raring for the trail. After a good nights sleep or even after a so-so one and a good breakfast you really do feel amazingly good, spending every day carrying the equivalent of 10-15% of your bodyweight on your back really does get you very fit indeed or knacker you completely, either way you know you've done it when you finish. First thing there can be a few minutes (or hours) warming up period, for me I take it slow and build the pace up gradually during the day, by the afternoon not only do you think you can walk another 20 Miles but you're almost sprinting once you smell or taste the next stop.

The three musketeers are walking together this morning mostly, Megan tells me about two recurring dreams she has and after her account of the first has sunk in I feel like this is a great opportunity to lay out my whole philosophy by giving her my take on what her dream means. I set out, without going into details of the dreams as they're personal, how I see the world today and the people in it, what I see coming in the future and why I think that dreams are not prophetic necessarily but some are emotionally charged visions of possibilities and warnings, often cryptic messages and in some cases big hints for what we should fix in our own lives, the things that we should be doing that we aren't and most importantly time to explore a different way of life in our waking hours, to be more authentic. After all haven't you ever remembered a bit of a dream later in the day and only then realised that what you had taken up until now to have been a memory was really part of a dream? It is very wrong to dismiss them as merely the efforts of the concious mind to palm off our problems and imagery of our most recent experiences onto the so called subconscious and let it work them out and decide what to store and what to dispose of. Dreams are just as 'real' as our daily 'reality', if we could move we'd act them out as if we were awake...

Click on these to see the real view of the long and winding road that leads to...

Getting sidetracked, anyway long story short I explained that I had lost any sense of the milk of human kindness and lost faith in our society too and through chanting the Hare Krishna Maha Mantra for the waking hours of seven days straight on my first Camino & subsequently developing Self Knowledge through Shamanism, so between that and years of scientific and literature research I had gotten to the point that I knew, not thought KNEW that two things are true.

Look around you this world is ending, disasters are on the increase the signs are there.

Something is coming towards us from the future and we need to be prepared to meet it.

My routes to this knowledge were circuitous but now I can pass it on to anyone with some time on their hands and the willingness to be open and possibly become more whole, a more happy person without any fear of death and with a renewed relish for life. The answers were there all along but made more difficult to find with an Ego, by Male Dominance in our societies and by our own stupidity...

I don't know how long I had spoken but once I'd finished I didn't want any questions or to have to explain anything, I'd insulted the church in front of Catholics by describing the council of Rome as a Jolly Boys Outing for Patriarchal Church figures to sit around and edit the final cut of the Bible before publishing the version that would keep women downtrodden for centuries for no reason and a multitude of others sins committed in a good man's name. (For the Record... Jesus prayed and worshipped where he was at the time and not merely to the converted either, it took place in their homes or in nature NOT in a building purpose built to raise money for flabby paedophiles' and misogynists). There rant over... I'd explained how I'd come to my conclusions, to my renewed love of life, feeling of balance and serenity within that life and also to this journey and felt quite exposed which is the key to being open.

So walking off at a very quick pace I soon left Dirk and Megan behind to stew on my diatribe, I wanted them to get past the fact that I'd said some things that many people would think crazy or just downright offensive, to access how they feel and use that as their yard stick to measure what I'd laid out, not what they think they know or were taught. Not to let their ego get in the way of truthfully analysing my words. De-Reprogramming doesn't work unless the hardware and software work in partnership, the Brain and Heart must work together in tandem with the gut. I call opinions like the ones I used to have about most things, dodgy software and unless they're open to upgrading and bug-checking, surely their unreliable at best? Why do people put so much stock in opinions that they got by reading the Papers or watching the News, question time or match of the day?

Anyway it was too hot, almost featureless farmland either side of the Way and very little shelter from the sun so gone midday I stopped at what I assumed was the marker stone and information for the next big place and that it wouldn't be too far away now. Everyone else caught me up in minutes, even two hours of speed walking had only given me five minutes peace and quiet, although I'd only past the Spanish guy and girls in the last half an hour so I couldn't complain and it was good to chat as everybody took on water and food, regrouped, took photos and checked guidebooks. Half way there! Oh my, it's been a hard half, I hope the second bit is easier...

Hmm hard going, water running low and then out, my poor predictions of how far away the next place was from our peeks of roof's and the sight of pylons and power lines following main roads into and out of whatever lay beyond the hills and trees. Meg getting annoyed at both my stealing some of her water (even though she's got a litre left) but mostly because I poured it very well up until performance anxiety, the strength of her gaze making me spill a few drips to her chagrin. Then more annoyed when I say we'll be there in half an hour only for it to be half an hour on top of the half an hour we've already spent squishing through wet earth to make it through what was a sticky icky yucky mess of a muddy path for a few k's. Climbing out and up onto a railway embankment, crossing the line and cheering up at the sight of a tiny pony and then even more welcome the sight of Torremegia!!!

There's still some way to go yet and I grab the nearest old lady whose just emerged from her friends house by the look of it, almost takes my hand she's that kean to show us to the Albergue. Just so happens it's near her house and she's on the way there anyway, so off we three trot, past bullring, past main road, through main square past her house to the arse end of the village where the church is located and scrub land and farm land restarts. Walking up it looks like a very old building but surprises galore reside within... It's huge, clean and has just finished being completely refurbished. The dorms are smaller, say 8 to ten beds I think, brand new furniture and fittings which mainly means bunk beds that don't squeak when either person moves, the shower room is big enough for a football team and so is the toilet, I think they were just using up the space. Like all newer facilities and lots of places elsewhere in Spain the disabled access is superb and seem standard rather than an afterthought or a late addition, including the lift to what is basically a huge mezzanine upstairs containing all the rooms. I take my shower sat down because I can...

Meg and I pop out to get an evening meal leaving the nice German lady and her husband and entourage, often you meet people and assume that they all know each other or are travelling together, both are true but only for the last few days or possibly a few hours at times, groups form and reform over and over as new people join the Camino family and others leave. The first bar has Richard on the furthest bar stool sat chatting up the young barmaid so we join for drinks and more olives ugh, shame I don't like em, the other stuff she gives us next is more like it. It's a dirty little place but full of character which is the way it goes and lots of the old geezers having a social evening so we skip off and search the High Street, the rain making our decision easier, plumping for bar that'll serve food in a while. Families with kids, older and younger people in little groups and us. It's a proper Spanish atmosphere and the red wine comes in big glasses so I get a load of stuff off my chest and then I let Megan get a word in edgeways to excitedly tell me all about her friend who has recently become her boyfriend back home (finally, not for the want of trying). It's a wonderful evening, the food is good and disappears along with pudding and so is the conversation, frank, interesting, perfect. Meg's sense of direction lets her down on the way back and it takes a little wandering to find the place but it's so nice to have a proper evening out instead of huddling over a stove or back and in bed by 10:00pm on the dot.

Via la plata blog - Day 9

Following one of the Pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela

Zafra to Villafranca de los Barros - 20k

Day 9 - 17th April 2010

Fairly well rested, still determined not to get up in the morning even if I'm awake at some ridiculous hour and just lie there instead of making the grumpily half-brained decisions decided on in the past. Last night was nice, Megan returned the favour and gave my shoulders and neck a good going over, neither of us trained masseuses, just keen amateurs. Stripped to the waist sat on the sofa in the lounge, I appeared more similar to a torture victim as groans, moans and yes, at times shrieks escape my slightly cracked lips to amused looks from our Pilgrim friends sat chatting at the table in the corner. Hints and tips for the Road and life alike passed from one to another. A Dutch woman arrived later on and told of terrible times in Portugal following the way here, nights spent fitfully camping, being treated unconscionably by the local men and just wanting to come to Spain as soon as possible. She's really cool so between trying not to get territorial over the kitchen and trying to politely not eat the rather slimy spinach omlette that Judy prepared it was a very relaxed evening.

Packing your bag should take place in the evening before bed or once the light has gone on in the morning, or in emergencies carry everything out of the room so as not to awaken anyone else and go to a shared area to prepare yourself and your things. That's the ideal scenario, unfortunately sometimes you get in late and everyone's already in bed ;-) and sometimes it's other people who just either haven't thought about it or seemingly don't care about the disturbance they cause to everyone else. Once one person is up it can lead to a chain reaction of individuals being woken and deciding to get up now they're awake already ;-(

Megan's feeing much better and is determined to walk today so we just pack up as usual and head off when we're ready. The route becomes quickly rural , we must have been close to the edge of town and muddy as there's been quite a lot of rain but thankfully the way is clear enough that we can relax and just walk and see where it takes us.
Paco and Helmut are around for a bit but like a running race we are all soon spread out over the course. Starting to descend there's a guy coming the other way in a small car and he's gunning the poor little thing to make his way up a very bumpy track, I couldn't imagine trying that at home, sober. Maria? The Italian Peregrina who sings her way along the roads and tracks is up ahead, her lilting trilling voice carries back up to us from further down the hill.

We rocked up after I asked a jogger for directions to a bar on the outskirts of Villafranca d.l.b. Ordering a beer and a cola cao and getting free food, yay meatballs and chips and some nice new weird looking stuff, the barman gave us a stamp in our passports, a map of the place and drew on all of the hotels, hostels and places of interest, all that for the price of a cheery hello and a couple of Euros for the drinks of course. Helmut shoots off while I wait for Dirk and off we go into town in convoy past the vibrant small Saturday morning market and into the main square, past too what looks like the start of a huge weekend Motorbike Rally and immediately come across all the dutch and the single polish and Jacques + Pierre, everyone basically, all looking either for a specific hostel or swapping stories about no room at the inns. The Police Station in the Town Hall complex beckons me so I lead the way and we are greeted and given advice about alternatives, Pilgrim passports stamped and everyone is off in a hurry towards one or another, like a walking version of it's a mad mad mad mad world... I put on a sprint for a few yards with a 15 kilo pack on my back, feeling pretty good for the rest day and then regret it as my knees and hips let me know that even when used to this hiking lark I can't piss about. Jacques & Pierre look momentarily horrified that I'll get the last bed in the place before laughing as we all traipse towards the hostels further out of town. We find one but it's full, hanging around to chat and swap a few pleasantries, everyone else bugs out and leave Megan, Dirk and myself to ask for more information on where the Bus Station is and chatting about the town. It's such a shame because it's a really friendly little place, the town and the Hostel which is basically some rooms in this guys house let out to travellers. Thanking the helpful hostel owner and making our way rather pitifully towards the Bus Station we got there to find that it's closed (no surprise there, the booths are shut no ticket attendants as the bus drivers do all that). We just checked the timetable and agreed a course of action i.e. waiting around for two hours before catching the next one and hoping there's somewhere to stay in the next Pueblo. Who should walk in but the Dutch woman from Zafra and almost immediately afterwards the guy from the Hostel that was full, he's got a room available and asking him on the fly, he'll even stretch it to four if our new Dutch friend would like to? No she's going on to the next place on the bus so Dirk, Meg and I take the guy up on his offer without futher arsing around and sticking our bags in the boot and thanking the guy profusely we all get in his car, I get in the front, only to realise I've got in the left side as I would at home and I'm now behind the wheel. Getting out as quickly as possible and hoping he hasn't noticed, it's obvious everyone has and I fess up, we laugh that I was going to steal his car and I get in the back instead for a our thirty second ride back to his house. Our patience paid off, we got a room albeit two beds and a mattress to put on the floor at bedtime, but a comfortable room in a wonderful Spanish family home and all the benefits and pitfalls that comes with it ;-) I shot off to find internet and ended up in a bar as usual after fruitless searching for Tourism Offices and Libraries and back again to the hostel (finding a wallet on the side of the road on the way) to take Meg and Dirk down for some free food with a beer. The Funeral Director's lists services on the doorway including Incineraciones, how frank they are here. Later and as there were only two beds in the room which Dirk and Megan would be having, after my hot ducha (shower) I was opportunistically lead on Dirk's bed in my pants, sewing up a tear in the leg of my trousers when he walked in from his own excursion to town, perhaps looking for wee fee (wi-fi). I looked up a bit surprised and said "Nothing to see here". To which Dirk replied with a completely straight face "I know". Maybe you had to be there but we all fell about laughing. Our family group was now complete, we had a father and two kids, Dirk, Meg and I. The next few hours passed with me taking the wallet I'd found to the Police Station and then running into the two lads whose pictures I recognised from inside it, sending them over to pick it up then all off out to eat at the bar / restaurant for dinner, which was standard fayre but nice and made more fun by the kids messing around and driving their mother crazy and oh yeah another game of football, thankyou Spain.