Magpie's Midsummer March

26th June
On leaving I felt an overwhelming attachment to all that represents home, however ˝ hour on and I begín to feel like an intrepid traveller. The 750 km drive to Astorga was long but uneventful. That night eating in the Plaza Mayor I played Spot the Pilgrim, I had read a lot about the suffering pilgrim and the pilgrim 'smell', so my nose if nothing else should find them. What I saw were neatly dressed people who looked like they had walked off the cover of Camping News, this can't be right, I thought of my creased and crumpled clothes and the shame I would bring to the Costa Banca.

The following day I decided to drive to Santiago sticking as closely to my route as possible, this was a bad idea as I drove the rolling hills the climbs served only to scare me. Looking on the positive side perhaps there was a hidden pilgrim valley running between them. The weather was not the 34 degrees I had been reading about, but cool and windy which was confirmed by various sorties outside the car. I made a quick mental note to buy some warm clothes in Santiago and dump the sleeveless tee shirts. I eventually found the hotel, bought my train ticket for the following day , re packed my rucksack taking out the Epsom salts and a few other things to make way for my new warm clothes, a further purge eliminated 8 pages of paper, every gram counts. At 10.30 I left my car at the airport and said goodbye to my last 'friend' hoping it will be safe until my return, who knows when.

I quickly tried to get my pilgrim routine going of washing socks etc, but after only 5 km feel a novice. I found an iron so that I could be well pressed like the rest. The village of Castrillo de Polvazares is really picturesque, stone cobbled street, low stone buildings and all the doors and windows are painted green, more likely after heated council debate than a job lot off the back of a lorry. It turned out that the restaurant was opening especially to feed me and I was given some fruit to take back at the end of the meal. I got the direction for the next day and it was off to bed early. The artisan shops looked interesting and I would like to return one day when shops were open and I had room to buy.

Bought some supplies from the shop and made up a soup for the evening, I am still feeling a bit of an outsider. I sit down at a table with some younger people who I hope will be interesting, they are involved in a metaphysical conversation but don't include me, I am considered too old I think. Marian and Ann who are older than me join us, Marian told me how she ended up on the camino by coincidences. She lives in Australia and on the way back to England to visit her children she bought a book by Shirley Mclaine at Singapore airport and it was about the camino, she told her daughter in London who informed her that she was about to do it with her husband, the following year, her son who wouldn't walk anywhere did it, and this year for her 60th birthday her children bought her a ruck sack, a stick and boots. Later on I joined the metaphysical conversation with Sunil an Indian who lives in London and Carl whose black feet I had noticed whilst resting. Sunil was interested in my general observations about life and until he found out I had only been on the camino 2 days, he is obviously finding himself through the camino and can't understand that people can find wisdom from other sources.
Found I couldn't sleep and heard the church clock chime every ˝ hour until 5.30. The noise of people moving woke me up at 6.30, everyone quietly goes about the business of packing and leaving, I got a nod from blackfoot Carl and that was it.

30th June
Today I will climb the highest point of the camino, so stopped at the first café as the next was 10 km away. Saw a multidtude of birds and felt like a pioneer trekking through bushes and across tracks. In the café at Foncelaban the owner was playing Celtic music and I told him about the Austrians, a few minutes later they walked in and asked if they could have a bagpipe session. There impromtu duet brought a smile to the owners face, he disappeared and came back with a pigeon to show me that had a tag Portugal 2001 on its leg, he petted it with such affection as he listened to the music it was a pleasure to see. I learnt that bagpipes originate in Egypt.

Sunil came in and it was clear that he was looking for my company today so that he could ask questions about last night, he is clearly wanting to learn and some of the things I have said have inspired some thoughts. He is the youngest of 10 children and the death of his father in January and a broken relationship are clearly the reasons for his presence on the camino. For him, the camino has been the best moment of his life so far and he regrets that everyday closer to Santiago is closer to the end of his trip. He is not interested in the views or nature so I have to force him to stop at Cruz Ferro where I symbolically lay a stone from Montgó on the heap. It is really cold and windy and 2 km later we cross the top of the climb shivering and hoping the rain will hold off.

When we arrive there, Mariana an Austrian girl is leaving having prepared her lunch there, at the same time Dagmar and Werner the bagpipe players arrive and the party persuade me to carry on, a big mistake. The final 8 km was all down hill and my feet, legs arms, and back are now aching, I tell the other to go on without me but Mariana who has been a nurse waits while I have a short rest. It is the ruck sack that is killing me and playing havoc with my knees. When I get to the refuge I go to sleep and apart from a quick shower I spend the night there and don't eat. I have seriously overdone it, the highest climb followed by the steepest descent and the longest walk I've done even including training. The village of Molinaseca looked lovely as I walked through and feel sad that I've missed it.