Another 16 mile trek in the hot Spanish sun is rewarded by this stunning cathedral in Burgos. Arrived just in time for a pilgrim’s mass. Every evening just about every town or village has a mass for pilgims.

Built in 1221, it is one is Spain’s largest and a great example of Gothic architecture. Simply unbelievable.

Example of the “road” I walked on, on the 16-mile walk to Burgos. This is what gives you blisters!

Above: the priest in San Juan de Ortega–a tiny mountain village–put a silver cross around the neck of each pilgrim after mass. What a wonderful gesture.

I lite a candle–it is but one among many. It’s strange, in every church after Mass, I light a candle for someone in my family. And it’s all I can do to keep from crying. And sometimes I do. 

The Monestario of San Juan de Ortega.

Tomorrow: the first of several days crossing the dreaded Meseta–the open wheat fields of Spain, a flat land (I’ll believe that when I see it!!!!) of no shade–compared to Death Valley, the Empty Quarter that Lawrence of Arabia crossed to Akaba.

Me and my blisters can hardly wait.

–Don-Qui-Joe-te

Man of La Mancha

Man of Many Blisters

Grandfather of the Camino

Up. Out. Before heat. I hope. Another 25 miler. Into Burgos. Big city. Fix blisters. 

Our Lady of Feet pray for us.

This afternoon was like a forced march through the heat and 85-degrees of full, glaring sun. To me it was more difficult than the Pyrenees were….Too many 25-degree steep hills, again.And new blisters to go with those hills.

But the reward was a pilgrims Mass in the Monestary of San Juan de Ortega, where the priest gave all the pilgrims a special blessing and he laid a beautiful silver cross around each of our necks. Very moving.

I’ll post photos when the interest service is stronger.

But now, it’s to bed. Tomorrow: the big city of Burgos!!!

6:00a.m. Time to hit this 16 mile mountain day!

Few photos from yesterday to whet yer whistle.

Until tonight, I wish you all Buen Camino!

Left, a woman from Sweden, and Monica and Richard from Austraila, who I first met in Zubiri. Today, Monica said, “Why Joe, you have your color back! You look strong now! I was worried about you back in Zubiri.” So was I!

At a village bar: a Spainard, an Aussie and an Irish lassie. The Camino is a melting pot!

Thuan couple from Italy know how to cool off during the hike!

Had a pilgim’s dinner tonight with Deborah and Rod from Colorado. Great couple! The Camino is filled with people from all over the world.

This places has everything. Including spikes. Spikes?

A daily ritual….

For some reason I am able to upload photos. Slow. But still.

Walked 12 miles today. Stopped at a Farmacia yesterday and they gave me a topical treatment for the swollen muscle in my left leg and foot. Seems to help today!

Tomorrow is a killer: 16 miles, going from 2355 feet to 3750 feet in the mountains. Going to try to make it in one day.

Which means I better hit the sack!

Burn Camino!

Don-Qui-Joe-te, strong one, Zen Master and Grandfather of the Camino!

How many does it take to do a selfie? In my case, two! I hold the iPhone, then Andrea, my new friend from Espania, pushes the shutter!

I’ve spent the last few days walking through the Rioja region of Spain, famous for its wine. That’s where I met Andrea, who is walking the Camino with her parents.

I am still unable to upload photos–evidently my iPhone photos are not compressed enough. If anyone can guide me through how to do this, I’d appreciate it. I have lots of great photos! 

While walking today I thought about the grapes that will soon be on the vines. What is it like to pick them? What do the pickers think about as they go down one ceaseless row after another? What is their life like? 

Today the guidebook said it would be through more “undulating hills.” What that really means is more steep hills. But I got an early start. It was hot, sunny and humid. My legs are getting as dark as the red clay I’m walking upon. 

I walked mostly alone today, although in increments with various people: an older couple from Oceanside, CA; a woman from South Africa who said, “Finally, I can speak English with you!” A family of four from Duluth–their two sons are in college, Ben and Joe. A man from Idaho and his struggling wife who kept repeating, “These guidebooks just lie,” as we went down another “undulating” hill.

And a woman from Germany who only wanted to ask me questions about what I did and so on, but when I asked her what she did, she said she didn’t want to talk about herself. So how can we have a conversation if it’s only one way, I asked her? She just rolled her eyes. I picked up the pace.

When I was walking alone I decided that each day I would take 15 minutes thinking only about one of my family. Today it was my grandson Charlie. In 15 minutes I rolled through the 12 years of his life. It’s hard to not think about Charlie without including Max because those two are thick. I wonder what Charlie will grow up to become? His family is moving to Chicago and I wonder how he’ll like it there. It’s an interesting exercise, this 15 minutes focused on just one person. I found that it was like looking through a box of photos of his life.

I’m in Santo Domingo de las Calzada  now. A stunning cathedral–wish I could upload photos!

Did 13 long miles today. About the same for tomorrow. No rain. Can’t believe how lucky I’ve been!

Don Qui-Joe-Te, grandfather of the Camino…

I know you’re tired but come, this is the way.–Rumi

Today I mostly walked by myself, except for a few miles with Andrea, a young woman and her parents from Espania, and for a while with a woman from Brazil.

I think I was the last peregrino to leave Navarrete–slept in a tad longer. Finally, after 10 days, I’m learning to walk my own Camino and not try to keep up with the thundering herd. It was a strange feeling, starting out solo and alone. I found myself looking over my shoulder, wondering where everyone was. And since it is Domingo, the town and roads are deserted.

Until the wanna-be Tour de Espania racers come whisking by in their peloton, in full club regalia. That’s all I need: to get clobbered by a speeding cyclist.

Once the Camino left the roadway they disappeared–only to be replaced by peregrinos on mountain bikes. Slower, but they can’t ride a very straight line.

Walking alone was meditative. It helped me enter the Silence and try to not think, but rather feel–feel the ground beneath me, feel the air, feel the oh so pure pain in my leg and ankle, feel the wonderful joy of being alive and healthy and able to walk this path that thousands before me have walked for hundreds of years. It is a humble experience. I am but one rock on the road to Santiago. But that one rock makes me a small part of the whole.

I am walking the Camino for a couple of reasons: the main one is to make good on a promise I made to God 21 years ago. Another is to find my spirit. I seem to have lost it over the last couple of years.

So Silence is important to me for it will help me listen to what comes forth…

In my Dialogue workshops we go out early one morning in the desert to sit in silence and watch the sun rise over the Catalina mountains. Each time I do a little meditatio. Part of it goes something like this:

For years the Master told his followers the importance of Silence and how Silence alone can bring about peace and enlightenment.

     When his followers ask him how to arrive at that Silence he said,

     “Listen when all is seemingly quiet, look when there is apparently nothing to see.”

That is my mantra on my Camino.

——-

Sorry, no photos–photos aren’t downloading. Either a slow server here or I need to find a way to compress photos in iPhone. Stay tuned, I’ll figure it out, but wanted to get this posted as my goal is to post every day…

I’ve passed the 100 mile mark!!! Break out the vino!!! Heal the feet!

Averaging almost 14 miles a day so I’m right on track, time-wise.

The soil changed today–I just passed Logrono–to a dark red, which means it’s clay. The weather sure has smiled on me so far, just a couple of brief mountain showers. I’d sure hate to do some of this in the rain, especially the downhills.

The route is well marked, with the sign of the shell, indicating that all roads lead to Santiago–although sometimes they reverse the shell so you’re unsure which direction the mean. They also use a yellow arrow, or stones. Here are some examples:

I get up at 6:00 a.m., dress, grab a bite–usually cheese, a croissant and tea and am on the Camino by 7:00. Every two hours I try to stop, air my socks out, grab a snack from one of the bars in a village. I’m averaging 2.5 per hour in the hills, but with breaks, it comes down to 2 mph. With fewer hills I can do 3 miles an hour.

I walk alone and I walk with others. When you pass someone–I am the one getting passed 90% of the time–people say  “Bien Camino” and if I’m the one doing the passing I often ask them their nationality and we have a conversation for a few steps or sometimes a few miles. The group I got to know way back in the Pyrenees are my best buds and we often walk together or meet up in the next town.

This lovely woman is Ascension from Espania. We have crossed paths many times and while neither one of us can speak the other’s language very well, we manage to communicate, somehow. If you count how many times we laugh, that is! She is a florist in Guadalahara, Spain. I think she thinks I am an Ambassador or politician somehow. Oh well. By the way, not one person I’ve met on the Camino likes Trump. In fact, they think the USA has gone wacko.

The girl on the left is Elena. She just met Media from Espania and was practicing her already good Spanish with her while they walked to the next village. Media is a nurse. There seem to be many nurses on the Camino.

 My two Camino-mates: Elena and Sebastain. We have probably been together the most over the last several days. Sebastain is a medical doctor from Germany. He’s 33, 6’4″, full of life and gusto. He did half of the Camino last year and is doing the first half this year. He’ll end his Camino in a few days in Burgos. It will be sad to see him go.

Elena is from Chicago–and is just 17!!! We think she may be the youngest to walk the Camino solo. I met her as we were walking out of Pamplona. Her parents walked the Camino years ago and her older sister did it as well (solo). Elena is fluent in Spanish (our interpreter) having grown up in Vallencia. She just graduated from HS and turns 18 next month. She’s funny, smart and confident–great qualities in one so young. I’ve adopted her as my Camino granddaughter. 

I left Viana, this lovely village this morning. Small towns, big cathedrals.

Alycia asked if if I was having any spiritual awakenings yet or if it was all a physical trial. It’s some of both, I think. The physical act of walking some 14 miles a day over rough terrain breaks down the body, then starts to build it up after several days. I think that process affects the mental and emotional part of my being and from those I’m hoping the spiritual will come forth. I think the physical, mental and emotional part have to come first. Those certainly are!

But I did have a mini-breakthrough that came to me today while I was trekking along alone:

There is no path to happiness; happiness is the path.

I think Buddha said it, but it came to me on the path today.

The Camino provides.

I hope this finds all my family well. I miss each of you and think of you often and individually throughout the day.

I love you.

–Don Qui-Joe-te