Some pics

Who I am and what I discovered about life

I have previously talked about why I was doing this walk, but that changed when on the Meseta, this is a huge straight stretch of white gravel track, no water, it's a very lonely place. Where you are alone with your thoughts. I'm told madness is not unknown here, but for me the Meseta was kind and offered me the chance to reconsidered why I was doing this walk and as I reflected on how lucky my life has been, born in Jersey a wealth island and having two strong and bright sons, who both born premature have recovered from a difficult start to life. So for me from that point onwards my Camino became a journey of thanks, for the life I have and for the lives of my sons.

The lessons learned on my last day, will always stick with me. Firstly I discovered the drive in me that pushed me onwards rather than turning back to an easy day at Arco. This drive or stubborn streak was further displayed when already exhausted I walked pass the last alberge on Monte del Goza, even after LB text me to stop, my exhausted reply was “no can't, too close to give in”.

Lastly when walking through the streets of Santiago, I pondered if this pilgrimage had earned my place in heaven and what would that be, what is heaven? I considered that if it existed it must be perpetually joy. So recalling moments in my life when I experienced moments of joy, for me giving “kangaroo love” to my first very premature son, this is a SCBU (Special care baby unit) term where you open your shirt and the premature baby is placed on your chest, the skin to skin contact helps the parent bond to their child and the baby is kept warm from body heat, also giving my second son his first ever bottle while mother was in still in surgery. With those memories coming to me it did not take long for the tears of joy to well up. Which drew some understanding smiles and knowing nods from the locals I passed.

Would I do it again? yes, but if without my family, two week would be my maximum, my children are the most important thing in my life, two weeks away from them is about my limit. Also if I go again I may start from Porto and head North, get a tan on my right side, the walk from Sarria was too busy to enjoy. Ultimately I still intend to take my lads on the journey and show them all the world on one road in 2020.

Arzua to Arco or so I thought.

Leaving Arzua around 8am not expecting too long a walk, only 19 km, my feet are okay, I've now learned to put up with blisters and accept that for 10 minutes after each break I'm walking like I've been crippled until feet warm up and then I can get some pace again. My morning break was at A Calzada, the usual croissant and cafe con leche. Pressing on I pass the high point of the day Alto de Santa Irene, path leads down into Aroc O Pino.

Something is not right the town should be here yet I'm now walking in woodland, I stop and study my map, I think I've overshot the town. Stopping three other pilgrim I discuss my position, with broken Spanish and English I discover that I should have taken a tunnel under the motorway which would have lead to the town and not continued on the path I'm on. I'm now by my estimate 3km pass the town. The choice is to walk back 3 km or walk another 8 to Lavocotte or even another 20km to Santiago.

As I consider my choice, it dawns on me that I have no choice I must press on, as I admit this to my new friends, stating very honestly “ that there is no going back”, I'm returned a universal thumbs followed by “good choice!”. Moving on I stop at San Payo, where I enjoy a nice pilgrims meal with the usual bottle of red. I'm as rested as I can be, fed and have topped up my water.

I'm not sure when I decided to finish, I think deep down I love a challenge, so deciding to to go for it, meant some serious patch work on my feet, outside the restaurant, with boots off I perform minor miracles with my feet. Several compeed later I start my final stage. The road goes on and on and on, I pass the airfield and the multiple of crosses in the fence placed by those before me. When I reach the top of Monte del Goza, I find a road side vending machine to replenish my water all but drained by this point, I'm alone as all the sensible pilgrims have already found a home and shelter from the heat of the afternoon. Mad dogs and English as they say.

After some serious work I at last reach the outskirts of Santiago, at last after a dodgy bridge crossing over a motorway and them train lines I enter Santiago de Compostelo. The walk into town seems to take an age, I enjoy the smile and waves from locals as another weary pilgrim enter the city, but by 9pm I find a 2 star single room in a central hotel. Exhausted I sleep for 2 hours before I even shower, my feet are some what wreaked by legs covered in heat rash but I'm finished.

It seems apt that what started out as physical challenge, which had became and emotional and spiritual journey, ending with me pushing my body and sanity to the edge with a final physical challenge. My camino has helped me discover many things about who I am and how I'll behave in pressure situations.