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Nadine Walks

stories of trekking and travel

A Spring Camino!

March 31, 2022

I was thinking, today, that my blog has its seasons.

There’s a “cold season” and a “warm season”, and right now we’re emerging from the cold months into a warmer time and- like the grass and the petals and the buds all coming slowly back to life- so, too, will this blog.

Not a lot seems to happen around here in the winter months, nothing worth writing about on a walking blog, anyway. Or maybe it’s more that I’ve been trying to focus on other projects, and after years of writing posts about the Camino and walking, I don’t feel like I have a ton of new stuff to say, outside of the more travelogue style posts when I’m actually out on a long walk.

In any case, this blog has gone through quiet periods, but I’m back today because the air is warm and April is around the corner and so is a little break from work, and all of this means that I’ll be heading back out for another long walk!

Well, longish. I only have a week to walk but I decided to go big and fly over to Europe and walk some part of a Camino route. Months ago I researched route after route, trying to figure out where I might want to walk: what would be do-able in a week, a place that wouldn’t be too cold, a place that would have enough open and not be too expensive, a place I hadn’t walked before, etc, etc.

It seemed to hit me all at once: I could walk in Portugal!

Exploring Porto, mural

I don’t think I’d initially considered Portugal for a short spring-break walk because I’d always planned on something much longer. I was set to fly to Portugal in June 2020, and walk from Lisbon up to Santiago. I had my flight and my guidebook and I was excited to explore a new country and a new Camino path, but, of course, COVID derailed those plans.

So I think I’ve always kept Portugal in my mind as a longer Camino that I’d just have to replan someday. But then I realized that I could walk the Coastal Portuguese from Porto and suddenly it all made so much sense! From Porto, there are two routes to Santiago: the coastal and the central. I’ve heard great things about both, and when I was originally planning my 2020 walk, I wasn’t sure what I’d decide to do when I reached Porto. But, with just a week to walk, it’s actually the perfect amount of time to do the entire coastal section of the Portuguese. I’ll start in Porto and I won’t reach Santiago, but it’s okay for this time around. When I have more time at my disposal, I can start down in Lisbon and try to walk all the way to Santiago. This time, with just a week, I’ll spend those days walking along the coast.

And so, it was decided! A spring Camino, my first one ever! Five years ago I did Hadrian’s Wall over my spring break, and while I suppose it’s a big trip for a short amount of time, I remember thinking as I walked that first day out of Newcastle that I’d made the best decision ever. That making the effort to get myself to a beautiful place where I could follow some way-markers and simplify my days into the soothing routine of walk-eat-sleep-repeat was worth it, every time.

So that’s what I’ll do again, I’ll fly to Porto and my plan is to start walking immediately (will I regret this? Probably. But I always want to just start as quickly as possible), and I’ll find my first yellow arrow and then just keep following them and walk for as far as I can. I’ve planned some big stages- of course I have!- but the route is fairly flat and I’ve been walking all winter and at this stage, I think I’ll be able to handle the big stages. I’ve reserved most of my beds, too, because I’m just not sure how crowded things will be around the Easter holidays, or just how many albergues will be re-opened after/during this COVID time, or just how many pilgrims will be on the path.

The plans are made, as well as I can make them, and I’m still not totally convinced that this trip will go off without a hitch (I need a negative COVID test to enter Portugal, and I’ve been working in a school where masks are now optional and hardly anyone wears one anymore, and germs are flying around, and, well, COVID has made travel feel a lot different, a lot more uncertain). But I hope that all will go well and smoothly, and that- soon- I can be walking again.

Fountain in Porto

And even though this is a short trip, I’m starting to get all of my pre-Camino jitters, the same as ever, even though at this point I should know better. But yet, I worry anyway. My new shoes don’t feel quite broken in, they don’t feel as comfortable as my last pair- are they rubbing against my toes? Will they cause blisters? Will there be rain in the forecast, should I pack my rain pants? (I ask myself this every single time.) I’m walking in the spring, do I need to bring an extra layer? I just bought myself a fanny pack/waist pack but I haven’t yet hiked wearing it AND my pack and will I like it or be annoyed by wearing something extra around my waist? Do I bring my nice camera?

On and on the questions go but there’s a joy in asking myself these pre-journey questions, the same ones every time, it means that I’m heading off across an ocean and following a path, I’m heading off on a journey. This is something I love, something that makes me feel so solid and good, something that makes me feel alive. Alive! It’s spring and I can feel myself emerging from my winter cocoon, ready to take my first steps down a new path.

Stay tuned.

Yellow arrow and cobblestone in Porto, Camino Portuguese

(Photo from 2019, when I spent a few days in Porto following my Camino del Norte)

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, Camino Portuguese, solo female travel, travel, walking

Day 10 on the Camino Primitivo, Boente to Lavacolla, 38km

October 10, 2021

Day 10 on the Camino Primitivo YouTube Video

Day 10 on the Camino Primitivo YouTube Video

Sometimes birthdays on the road are wonderful and magical, and sometimes they’re a little tough. My day 10 on the Camino Primitivo was an all-around not super great Camino day, and I suppose if it hadn’t been my birthday I wouldn’t have thought much of it, just chalking it up to the so-so days you have sometimes. But a birthday adds a certain kind of pressure, and today just didn’t give me the ingredients for a magical day.

For starters, I’m now on the Francés, and it is the weekend, and it is August. And let me tell you, it was the pilgrim superhighway! I know to expect a lot of pilgrims in the final stretch leading up to Santiago, and in some ways I think it’s kind of magical: here are hundreds and hundreds of people, all of us with our packs and our sticks and we’re marching along in a line, moving in the same direction, all of us from all over the world, heading to Santiago. It’s pretty cool. But for someone who likes to walk alone and loves having an open path all to myself, this influx of pilgrims was a lot! I’d never seen anything like it, and while it’s been awhile since I’ve walked this path into Santiago, I can’t quite believe how many more pilgrims there were on the way. From the quiet Primitivo to this: groups of friends, and students, and families, and just… people- it was overwhelming.

Crowds of pilgrims, Camino Francés

But I had a nice and quiet morning, I suppose the day started almost perfectly. Up and walking in the dark blue before dawn, one kilometer and then two and then an open bar. I was the only one there, with a huge cup of coffee and and a croissant, and just as I was finishing, Claudia and Jean Paul walked up, two pilgrims I’d met several days before. And, a few minutes later, the two Spanish pilgrims from my albergue last night. We all smiled and waved and chatted, and then I continued on, and for awhile the path was still quiet.

Then, the circus of the late morning and early afternoon, but I made the best of it: stopping again for a tortilla and a cortado, and then, again, for a beer and a small bowl of chips. There was a point when the path of the Camino veered off to the right, but the mass of pilgrims all continued straight: they were walking into O Pedrouzo, I was continuing on for another 10 kilometers to Lavacolla. And just like that, most of the pilgrims were gone, and I was walking under the trees with the path to myself.

Beer bottles on the Camino de Santiago

Path through the trees on the Camino Francés

And then it rained, light at first, and then harder, and it wasn’t ideal but when it rains on the Camino there’s nothing to really do except keep on walking. And so I did.

I arrived, wet and a little cold, to the albergue in Lavacolla. It was a fine enough place: a big bunk room but with decent space between the bunks, and a beautiful and well-equipped kitchen. Right as I entered I saw a pilgrim I’d met in Ferreira, and she was fine but not quite my cup of tea. She told me how the only shops in town were closed because it was Sunday, but then raved about the great lunch she’d just eaten at the restaurant down the road, and even how the owners had given her a ride back because it was raining. I could feel my stomach start to rumble: it was nearly 4pm, I’d walked nearly 40 kilometers, and while I’d stopped several times throughout the day, I’d never had a proper lunch. It would be too late for lunch now, but I figured I would shower and then maybe set off to explore and see if I could find a place that might be serving food.

I headed back out around 6, after a quick search on my phone revealed that the restaurant down the road would serve food at all hours. A pilgrim miracle! It wasn’t raining when I set out but it was gray and chilly. I walked and walked and when I arrived at the restaurant, I was greeted with a frown, a hostess pointing to a large sign. I needed to prove I was vaccinated in order to enter the restaurant, and of course, I’d left my vaccination card back at the albergue! (This was one of the two times I needed to prove vaccination to enter an establishment; I was walking through Galicia at a time this summer when it was required, but those regulations changed shortly after.) The hostess shrugged, pointed to a table under a canvas tent, and told me that the kitchen couldn’t serve me food until 8pm.

So I sat at a table outside and zipped my fleece up, tucking my hands into the sleeves to warm my fingers, and ordered a glass of wine. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do- two hours would be a long time to wait outside- but I figured I’d have a glass of wine, then walk back to the albergue, pick up my vaccination card, and then walk back to the restaurant for dinner. But just as my wine was delivered to my table, the skies opened up and it began to pour. 

Sitting in the rain in Lavacolla, Camino Francés

I sat, huddled and alone at a table outside because I was the pilgrim who didn’t have proof of vaccination, and wondered what I was going to do. It was then that I started to feel a little sorry for myself, to feel sorry that it was my birthday, and that I was close to Santiago but all alone, tired and hungry, staring out at the rain.

And then the hostess brought me a menu, and told me I could order food. Someone inside that restaurant must have looked out and taken pity on me, or maybe it’s just that the Camino provides, because I was able to order food and I was able to eat, and it was what I needed.

Dinner on the Camino de Santiago

I still had to walk back to my albergue in the rain, but it didn’t matter: once I got back I changed into the only clean and dry clothes I had left, I managed to find the hospitalera so I could ask for a blanket, I chatted with a few French pilgrims, and crawled into bed, warm and dry, with a full stomach.

Some Camino days are “off” Camino days, but at the end of it I tried to remember how grateful I was to be able to be walking at all. Plus, I was just 10km away from Santiago! Bright days ahead.

Santiago sign with graffiti, Camino de Santiago

Day 10 on the Camino Primitivo

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, camino primitivo, long distance walking, pilgrimage, solo female travel, travel

Day 9 on the Camino Primitivo, Ferreira to Boente, 25km

October 3, 2021

Day 9 on the Camino Primitivo YouTube Video

Day 9 on the Camino Primitivo YouTube video

25km today, and now, of course, my body feels strong and maybe those Camino legs have really kicked in because the kilometers were easy and so of course I felt like I could have walked longer. I did my thing of walking fast and stopping a lot: for coffee, for an Aquarius, for photos, for peering into churches.

Walking the last kilometers of the Camino Primitivo

Church and cemetery on the Camino Primitivo

There was a stretch with a long, stony path, bordered by green pine trees and tufts of purple heather and what remained of a gray stone wall and this path seemed to go on and on, under a big sky, with Melide in the distance, clouds and sun and no one there but me. I loved it! I’d walked it before- I must have, back in 2015- but I couldn’t remember it at all. As I walked, I thought about how beautiful it was, how I felt as though I would never forget it, and wondered what I’d been thinking about when I walked it 6 years before. Why hadn’t it stuck in my memory? What had been my mood that day? Were my eyes focused on the ground, was the sky dark and stormy, was I walking with someone else? I might not have remembered this part of the Camino the first time I walked but this time, it made an impression. In Melide the Primitivo would merge with the Frances, and so these were the very last kilometers on the Primitive Way. I tried to soak them up, I tried to imprint the path onto my memories. Maybe I did. 

Last kilometers of the Camino Primitivo

And then I arrived in Melide and I was surrounded by new and unknown pilgrims. This happens every time! I should be used to it!! But we’re all pilgrims and I told myself I only have a few days left until I reach Santiago, I can deal with a few more pilgrims on the path. But it makes me think of just how special the Primitivo is- every year and especially this year. What a special, special walk.

I passed through Melide, pausing for a glass of wine with a pilgrim I’d met that morning, then I continued on. I intended to get something to eat but I was flustered by the city so I just started walking, and then another 5km flashed by and I was at my albergue (Albergue El Alemán, Boente). I’d made a reservation just two days before; I’d been nervous about all the pilgrims on the last 100km of the Frances and reports that finding beds in this stretch was really difficult (especially considering I was now walking in the height of the summer), but luckily I had no trouble finding places to sleep. I think it helped that I was staying “off stage” (off of the typical Brierley guidebook stages, anyway), but in any case, I was pleased to not have to stress about where I would sleep.

Day 9 on the Camino Primitivo

And this albergue was great! It had been recommended to me by my lovely host back in Vilar de Cas, and everything was just as promised: a beer garden with outdoor picnic tables under a large awning, a tiny restaurant/bar area with some basic pilgrim supplies, even a small pool to dip tired feet into! As I arrived, two pilgrims I’d met the night before were finishing lunch, and they invited me to their table and I ordered my own meal: a big salad, fish and roasted potatoes, cold melon for dessert. Those friends both continued on, and in the end there were only 5 pilgrims- including myself- in the albergue, and incredibly, four of us had been on the Primitivo! Even though I was technically now on the Francés, it felt as though I’d extended the Camino Primitivo by a few more kilometers. 

Somehow I managed to eat more food for dinner just a short while later, after giving my feet a long soak in the pool. After eating every last bite of my big bowl of pasta (not only have my Camino legs kicked in, it appears that the Camino hunger has kicked in as well!), I finished the day with a stroll through the quiet streets of the village. 

Pool at Albergue El Alemán, Camino Francés

Pasta dinner at Albergue El Alemán, Camino Francés

But the real ending was a small commotion I made in the bunk room of the albergue as I was preparing to go to bed. While trying to close the blinds of the window across from my bunk, I accidentally pulled the entire thing down and it fell with a crash. A Spanish pilgrim came over to see what the noise was and together we managed to get the blinds back in place, but there were little plastic pieces, broken, on the floor. I gathered them up in my hand and the pilgrim said- “Destroy the evidence!” and the hospitaleros had already turned in for the night and I couldn’t tell them about the window. So if you stay at the Albergue in Boente and the window shade falls down in the night, it is not a ghost!! It was just me.

Albergue window view, Day 9 on the Camino Primitivo

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, Camino Frances, camino primitivo, long distance walking, pilgrimage, solo female travel, travel

Day 5 on the Camino Primitivo, La Mesa to A Fonsagrada, 40km

September 8, 2021

Day 5 on the Primitivo YouTube Video

Day 5 on the Primitivo YouTube video

I walked far today, from La Mesa to A Fonsagrada, just over 40km. It had all been part of my initial plan and I really like walking long days but I kind of forgot that the Primitivo is not an easy route. I was so focused on Hospitales that I told myself the rest of the way would be easier and, well, there are still ups and downs! Lots of them!

But the beginning of the day, especially from La Mesa to the reservoir about 5km before Grandas de Salime, was nothing short of magical. After breakfast in the restaurant at the albergue I started walking, with the sun rising at my back. André- the young pilgrim from Portugal- was the only other walker out on the road and for awhile I could keep my eye on him, far ahead on the hillside. He was keeping pace with a group of bicyclers who were having trouble with the steep hill and I had to laugh, wondering if André would eventually outpace them.

Camino shadow, Day 5 on the Camino Primitivo

Then they all crested the hill and I lost sight of them and it was just me and my long shadow and I walked. The air was cool and the light was soft and the Camino moved off of the road and onto a path through the fields. I felt high above everything- maybe not quite the heights of Hospitales the day before, but still surrounded by mountains and rolling valleys. My favorite spot of the day was just before the path begins its descent down towards the reservoir- I turned a corner and arrived at a little stone chapel (Chapel of Santa Marina de Buspol). There was a field of cows, their bells ringing and clanging, a wildflower-strewn path, streaking clouds and patches of sunlight on the mountains in the distance. 

Capilla de Santa María de Buspol, Camino Primitivo

The path of the Camino descends for quite awhile and then skirts around the reservoir before it climbs back up on the other side. Right at the start of the long (and paved) climb is a little hotel/bar that I remembered stopping at back in 2015. It was open and the terrace views were just as good as they were 6 years ago, and the café cortado and tortilla (my first of the trip!) even better. 

Cortada at the Embalse de Salime, Camino Primitivo

But then I entered into the part of the day that felt hard. It wasn’t just the walking- though that was at times tough and I could feel that I was dragging- it was the mental aspect, too. I regretted, just a little, doubling a stage and moving away from all of my friends. I know this is what happens on a Camino when you walk a short day or a long day, and I tried to remind myself that I always run into people unexpectedly here (that a Camino goodbye isn’t always a true goodbye), but I felt wistful as I walked past the albergue in Castro where many of the others would be staying. I’d walked 20km at this point, and there wasn’t another lodging option until A Fonsagrada, another 20km away (which was where I was headed). The albergue in Castro was a nice-looking stone building overlooking a field of cows, at the corner of a very small and quiet village and it all seemed so peaceful, so relaxing. I could picture it: showering and doing my pilgrim chores and then grabbing a beer at the attached bar and settling in at a table for the rest of the afternoon, greeting my friends one by one as they walked up.

I could picture it, and yet, it wasn’t even noon. I thought about sitting around for the rest of the afternoon and I could feel myself grow restless, my feet itching to keep moving. Did I make the right choice by walking an additional 20km to A Fonsagrada and losing the friends I’d made over the first four days? Is there ever a right Camino decision? All I know is that I paused at the albergue, and then I kept walking.

I took a long break on a bench at the church in Penafuente, pulling out all of my snacks and eating as much as I could to give myself some energy. I was only 5km past Castro and still had 15km to go and for the next 10km I really had to push myself, but- as ever- one foot in front of the other. Over and over. 

Tired feet, Camino Primitivo

In Barbeitos I found an open bar and ordered a beer and peeled off my shoes and socks and then André walked up. I’d last seen him back in Castro, sitting at the bar attached to the albergue, and assumed he would be staying there for the night. He sat at my table and told me that the night before he’d had a dream, urging him to walk a long day, and so here he was!

cana on the Camino Primitivo

We had such a good, long, ‘Camino-esque’ conversation; Andre has walked the Camino before, too, and we talked about what brings us back, what feelings we hope to find, how to find those feelings at home. I lost track of time, realizing with a jolt that it was nearly 6pm and I still had 5km to walk- maybe one of my latest Camino days yet! I said goodbye to André but as I walked realized that it didn’t matter so much that I would be arriving in town so late in the evening. I had a bed reserved, I didn’t need to do much more than shower and find some food, and so I settled into those last kilometers, gliding through (until that cruel, cruel uphill into town).

Walking to A Fonsagrada, Camino Primitivo

Entering A Fonsagrada, Day 5 on the Camino Primitivo

André had caught up with me and we walked to the albergue together, and it was another nice place: Albergue-Pensión Cantábrico, where I had my own little bunk room plus a fresh towel! Such pilgrim luxury. And then, to continue with the luxury, I went out in search of dinner and found a place where I was tempted by the amazing menu and ordered the “special” pilgrim’s menu which had four courses- caldo gallego soup and a round dish of pulpo and some sort of succulent-melt-in-your-mouth meat and fries and of course bread and a bottle of wine. I ate as much as I could and when I was asked what I wanted for dessert all I could manage was a little cup of espresso but it was perfect. 

In walking such a long stage it felt as though I had launched myself into another Camino, with a different group of people, leaving behind nearly everyone else I had met. But the unexpected conversation with André reminded me that we never know what we will find on the Camino, and that one goodbye may lead to a new hello, that new experiences are also waiting to be discovered. 

Next Post: Day 6 on the Camino Primitivo

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Tagged: A Fonsagrada, Camino de Santiago, camino primitivo, pilgrimage, solo female travel, travel

Day 4 on the Camino Primitivo, Samblismo to La Mesa, 28km

September 6, 2021

YouTube Video Day 4 on the Camino Primitivo

Hospitales Day!

We woke up to a breakfast of toast and yogurt and coffee and one by one left the albergue to head into the mountains. I walked this route six years ago, but it felt like such a different Camino then, for so many reasons. And the day I walked Hospitales back then, the weather had been bad: foggy and misty the whole way up the mountain, we couldn’t see anything. But today? Today was glorious. You could argue that I could have had nicer weather; the morning was mostly overcast, so I didn’t get blue sky and sunshine (not until the afternoon). But I had the views, and it was incredible what was up there all along. 

Horses on Hospitales route, day 4 on the Camino Primitivo

This is when the memories really came flooding back, too, from that first walk on the Primitivo in 2015. It was on the Hospitales day that year that I made my three Camino friends, the little family I stuck with for a few days. That time with them- “the kids”, I call them, because they were all in their early 20s- was really special. And it was at the top of the Hospitales route, when I was huffing and puffing up the final big hill, that Nicolas emerged through the fog, sitting on a rock and eating an orange. 

This year, as I made that same climb, I could see more clearly to the top, and I could see Nicolas’ rock. I was stronger this time, still a little out of breath as I climbed the hill but my legs felt solid. I’d moved just ahead of Giuseppe and Rudolph and Antonio during the climb and so it was just me at the top, in the wind and the clouds, next to the Nicolas rock and I looked down and I convinced myself that the curl of an orange rind would be here, half hidden in the grass. I looked for it, I looked for the evidence that I had been here before but I suppose the evidence, if we’re lucky, is all in our heads. It’s in the remembering, the recognition of a rock, the whiff of an orange rind on the wind.

My sentimental notions didn’t last long; Rudolf was close behind and he joined me at this little summit and we cheered and laughed because it was so beautiful there. “Most of the climbing is done?” Rudolph asked. “Really? That wasn’t as bad as I feared.” He paused, and reached down deep into a pocket of his bag and pulled out a beer, still a little cold. “You don’t happen to have a cup with you, do you?”

Why yes, in fact, I did! He cracked open the beer and poured some into my camping cup and we toasted, clinking the can and my cup together, a little beer sloshing over the sides, and we cheered and drank deeply and then stood in silence, looking out over the mountains, the clouds rolling below us, the vista stretching and stretching. Soon Giuseppe was here, and then Antonio, and for those moments it was me with my three new friends, triumphant and happy. 

Hospitales summit on the Camino Primitivo

One by one we left our celebratory spot, I was the last to leave. I lingered behind, and then- mostly keeping Rudolph in sight- followed more slowly behind. I took my time that day. Sometimes it feels like I’m racing through my days on the Camino and I never actually am… I’m just walking fast, because that’s my pace, and when I’m feeling strong I just naturally settle into a quick and steady rhythm. But walking the Hospitales route, I deliberately slowed myself down, because I needed more time to take in all that was around me, and to just absorb being back here. Rudolph and I flip-flopped as we made our way across the ridge, pausing to take photos and videos and comment on the cows, the little purple flowers.

Cows on Hospitales, Camino Primitivo

Just before the path begins it’s somewhat treacherous rocky descent, we all joined up again at a little rest spot with picnic tables, and that’s where we met Kelsey, a young American woman. She’d started her Camino in Oviedo but a few days before I had; she’d recently had trouble with tendinitis and hadn’t taken the Hospitales route because of it (our rest stop was about where the Hospitales and Allende paths meet up). 

I could tell that Kelsey was excited to meet another solo American woman, and I suspected that she wanted to walk with me, but I hesitated. Readers of the blog will know that I’m rather intent and protective of my solo walking time, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to spend some of this beautiful stage walking and talking with someone new, getting to know them. I let Kelsey go on ahead with the others, but eventually I caught up, and I think there’s a Camino lesson in here for me. Kelsey and I walked together for the next hour or two, and while I didn’t get to quietly take in my beautiful surroundings as much as I wished, or sink deep into my own thoughts and memories, the time with Kelsey was good. She was still figuring out the Camino, figuring out who she was on the Camino, and it was kind of beautiful to witness this. She’d spent some time with other pilgrims who hadn’t been very encouraging, who’d passed judgment on the way she was walking, and I realized that I had the opportunity to be the very opposite. I could be positive, and open and welcoming. I could walk with her for a few hours, and in those few hours, could be her friend.

And then we arrived in Berducedo and we stopped to have a drink and it turned into the most beautiful afternoon of pilgrim community. I have to say, after my experience on this stage in 2015 and again this time six years later, I think there must be some sort of magic in these hills. Giuseppe and Antonio and Rudolph were already at the bar, and one by one, other pilgrims that I’d met in the last few days walked up. Karl from La Espina, and André from Cornellana, and then Kinka from Cornellana and then we were this big group, and I was introducing people and we were all smiling and drinking beer and wine and sitting back in our chairs, feet stretched out in the sun, a long and beautiful stage completed, nothing left to be done but eat and drink and be with new friends. 

Day 4 on the Camino Primitivo

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Tagged: Camino, Camino de Santiago, camino primitivo, pilgrimage, solo female travel, travel

Day 3 on the Camino Primitivo, La Espina to Samblismo, 29km

September 2, 2021

YouTube Video: Day 3 on the Primitivo

I’m settling in, I think. I walked about 28km today and felt good, though I’m tired now (almost 7pm and waiting for dinner) The weather today was almost cool, and I needed to put on my fleece every time I stopped for a break. But I’ve moved into the countryside, full of rolling hills and green forest tunnels and cows and horses and wildflowers. There was road walking, too, there almost always is, but as long as it’s not all day I really don’t mind. I think of this stage as the one where the Primitivo starts to get really, really beautiful. Particularly on the stretch just outside of Tineo, as you move slowly up to a ridge that overlooks a green valley, with views that stretch on and on. It’s just a taste of what is to come! Plus, somewhere in this section, I found a suitable walking stick, which is always a cause for celebration. A Camino is not complete until I’ve found a walking stick!

Path of the Camino Primitivo

Me and my walking stick, Camino Primitivo

View after Tineo on the Camino Primitivo

I also found another monastery. This one was just a slight diversion from the path, in Obona (Monasterio Santa María La Real de Obona), and even more abandoned than the last one (pilgrims can’t sleep here, and that’s probably a good thing, though this time there were no ghost encounters). But as luck would have it, just as I arrived, there was a small group of people who’d pulled up in a car, and one of the men had keys to get inside! He gestured to me to come in to have a look around, and so of course I did. I’m not sure how active the monastery is, if at all, because while there were pews set up in the church, everything was dusty and full of cobwebs. But how incredible to get a chance to see inside!

Monastery Obona, Camino Primitivo

Day 3 Camino Primitivo

About 4km before my evening destination I stopped in Campiello for a snack, which ended up being a beer and an empanada. Giuseppe- the man that I met on my first day of walking- was at a table with an Italian woman, and I pulled up a chair to join them and it felt so good to have these sort of Camino encounters again. Easy, welcome, relaxed. The beer and the food went down easy, too, and I sat for longer than I needed to, just soaking it all in, enjoying exactly where I was. Storm clouds were gathering in the distance and moving closer by the minute so I packed back up for the final kilometers, feeling revived and strong.  

Cerveza and empanada break in Campiello, Camino Primitivo

Really strong. My pace was fast and I must have looked awfully determined because I was stopped twice by locals making sure I knew where I was going and that I wasn’t about to attempt to walk the Hospitals route. I wasn’t- the rugged and wild and isolated Hospitales route would be for the next day, a 24km stretch without any towns or services. I assured both of the men that I was stopping in Samblismo and they relaxed and nodded but I thought to myself- ‘it’s 4pm! Of course I’m not heading off into the hills!’ But maybe I looked so determined, so sure, marching so solidly towards those green mountains that they needed to make sure that I knew where I was going, that I was going to be okay.

Before I knew it I was at the Albergue de Samblismo. Most pilgrims stay back in Campiello (where I had my beer/empanada break), or 3km further in Borres. There are albergues in both villages, but I’d read about a great albergue just 1km past Borres, and right at the Hospitales/Allende split. When I walked the Camino Primitivo back in 2015 I stayed in Campiello and it was fine; there’s a good bar/restaurant and a couple shops there, so it’s easy to stock up for the Hospitales route the next day. This time, I picked up what I needed for the next day when I passed through and continued to Samblismo. The albergue here isn’t part of a village, it’s just a building up in the hills, with incredible views and such a peaceful and quiet vibe. The hospitalero, Javi, is kind and gentle and prepares a communal meal for all the pilgrims. The COVID measures were great here- the albergue has five dorm rooms, most of them with just one or two bunk beds, but unless you were traveling as a pair or in a group, he only puts one pilgrim per room. So I had my own little room, and we all wore our masks inside and we spaced out at the dining room table for our meal.

And what a meal! Vegetable soup and a huge tray of paella and creamy pudding with poached peaches, wine and bread. The air was cool outside and we were bundled up at the table eating hot soup and once again I was with some new pilgrims, just three others: Giuseppe was there, but also Rudolph from Slovakia, and Antonio from Spain. Except for the pair of Spanish friends in the albergue in La Espina the night before, every pilgrim I’d met and shared albergue space with was traveling alone and this felt a little unusual. I always meet other solo pilgrims, but never this many, and there were several who had walked the Camino before, too. 

Communal meal- Albergue de Samblismo, Camino Primitivo

Most of our dinner conversation centered around the route the next day, and almost an obsession over what the weather was going to do. “We’re going to get some sun,” I said, “I know it.” The forecast in the early morning wasn’t great, but Javi thought that the clouds would clear by late morning, and I hoped he was right. When I last walked Hospitales, I was in the fog and clouds for most of the way. It was an incredible atmosphere but there were no views, and I could only just make out the path in front of me. The Hospitales stages is considered one of the most beautiful stages of any Camino, and back in 2015 I told myself that one day, I would come back to walk the Camino again, to try for better weather for this stage. I kept my promise, and now I was back, hoping against hope for good weather the next day.

Group at communal dinner, Albergue de Samblismo, Camino Primitivo

 

Next Post: Day 4 on the Primitivo

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Day 2 on the Camino Primitivo, Cornellana to La Espina, 20km

August 31, 2021

I think there was a ghost in the monastery last night- and I don’t say that lightly. Really, I’m wondering. I was sleeping in what is basically an abandoned 11th century monastery (Albergue del monasterio de San Salvador)- there are rooms for pilgrims but the hospitaleros leave for the night to sleep somewhere else. There are no monks, no one- just the pilgrims who happened to walk there that day. I fell asleep quickly- there was one other pilgrim in my room and she was tending to her blistered feet and I thought I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until she was done and the lights were off but as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out. Out, until hours later when a really loud noise woke me up. It was like crashing or banging, there was one sound, then another… a little later another. So loud, so jolting.

The sound wasn’t in my room but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Not the room behind me, where Mer was sleeping, but maybe the room further down the corridor, where André was? But it sounded like it was coming from somewhere above, which made me wonder- what, exactly, was up there making that sound?

Albergue del monasterio de San Salvador, Cornellana, Spain

I was spooked. Like- I wasn’t going to get out of bed for anything. And it was then, wide awake in the middle of the night that I remembered reading about a possible ghost encounter here, so the next day, in the middle of my walk when I couldn’t shake the strange feeling I’d had the night before, I searched on the Camino forum and found the post and it was indeed a ghost experience at the albergue in Cornellana. Here’s the excerpt of the post (and here’s the link to the thread in the forum):

“CORNELLANA: well, this is one of its kind. We went there upon the recommendation of a fellow pilgrim. Also, I like monasteries, so I stay there whenever I can. The building has character, dorms are beautiful and clean, there is a nice historical feel to the place, the kitchen is big and very well equipped… the only catch is that the monastery is actually derelict and abandoned. Not even the hospitalero sleeps there. It just happened that that night my partner and I were the only two pilgrims to check in. Initially we thought that was great news: a little peace at last! No snoring :) As time passed, our mood changed from excited to uneasy… to uncomfortable… to get me out of here! We were woken up by unusual noises during the night coming from upstairs, where the monks used to live. Several times. The next day, I shared my experience with the hospitalera at the next albergue where we stopped, and she told me this is not the first time she’s heard of unusual things happening in Cornellana. She told me a few stories that sent chills to my spine. Bottom line: if you are a solo pilgrim, please consider staying somewhere else, unless you are seeking a paranormal experience (which, by the way, is not guaranteed. Many people stayed in Cornellana and felt/heard nothing, so I was told). If you are with friends, know that you may have a peaceful night or an unusual night, and make your choice. The albergue itself is very well kept, with a beautiful courtyard where you can chill and dry your clothes.”

This description from a past pilgrim matched pretty well with what I experienced, plus, when I asked the three other pilgrims staying with me about it, they all said that they hadn’t heard a thing! Hmm… my first Camino ghost, trying to tell me not to walk so far, and to take care of my feet??

So day two started off with spooky thoughts but settled into a pleasant day: 20 kilometers to La Espina, through a mostly forested path. I stopped for a coffee in Salas but everything seemed closed; I met an elderly man who wanted to talk about my pilgrimage but I couldn’t understand him, finally he said- “Can you speak French?” Why yes, yes I can! He was so happy and gave me the name of a place for the best coffee in town and I’d like to believe that it was. I sat there for a long time, savoring the coffee and the bocadillo, listening to the locals at the tables around me. Everyone seemed to know each other, coming and going, throwing back their coffee, gossiping (I like to imagine) about the happenings around town.

Café con leche stop in Salas, Camino Primitivo

Sign on the Camino Primitivo

My pack still feels heavy but a little less heavy by the afternoon so maybe I’m starting to adjust? I’m staying in a great little albergue run by an Italian couple who took over right as COVID started (Albergue El Texu). But they’re navigating it all with the best attitude, and also the best food: a three course homemade dinner with ingredients from their garden (plus really, really good bread). We started with a vegetable soup that was followed by tuna steak and risotto, finished with big slices of chocolate cake and cups of espresso.

I met more pilgrims, different pilgrims, just four of us again tonight (and I get my own room!). Two friends from Spain- Bryan and Edgar, and a solo pilgrim from Austria- Karl, and we talked through dinner and into dessert and I mostly listened, but all the while continue to just marvel over how quickly connections can be made here. I’d arrived at the albergue before anyone else, and had been tucked away in my room when the others arrived and for some reason I felt a little nervous and shy to go downstairs to introduce myself. But all it takes is a few hours around the dinner table, a shared bottle of wine, stories from the day and glimpses into each others’ lives and how we got here and suddenly it was as though I had three new friends. We stayed up late- far too late for pilgrims- but I didn’t mind. I wanted to soak it all in: the walking, the clouds and the trees and the wind, the coffee stops and the locals in the villages and the new friends in the albergues. Soak it all in so I could carry it with me. 

Day 2 on the Camino Primitivo

YouTube Video for Day 2 on the Camino Primitivo

 

Next Post: Day 3 on the Primitivo

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, camino primitivo, Cornellana, Cornellana ghost, solo female travel, travel

Arriving in Oviedo and Day 1 on the Camino Primitivo

August 30, 2021

I’m back home from my 2021 Camino adventure! In some ways it all felt like a whirlwind- how can I be home already??- but in other ways my time on the Camino felt just right. Like just what I needed.

I thought I might be able to blog while I was on the walk, but it was about all I could do to post smaller updates to social media, try to go through the dozens and dozens of photos to select a few to share, and attempt to stay on top of the video I was taking. I fell behind on it all, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing; enjoying the walk was the most important thing, and I think I did a good job of that.

Some of you may follow me on Instagram or on YouTube, so maybe have already seen these updates, but I wanted to transfer what I shared there over here to this blog. I thought I would attempt to do a day-to-day post of my walk this year, and share the photos and ‘travel log’ that I wrote each day, plus the corresponding video. And hopefully add in some extra details too! So, here we go!

 

July 21st: Travel to Oviedo, for the Camino Primitivo

It all felt a little jarring, to be on public transportation again, the first time since early 2020. I was sitting in the 30th Street station in Philadelphia, waiting for my train to Newark, thinking that already I’d traveled so far when I hadn’t even really left my city! But it felt adventurous in a different sort of way than ever before. A little more nerve-wracking too. I didn’t know how COVID would affect the travel OR the walk on the Camino, I didn’t even trust that I would be able to stay in Spain for as long as I planned. I told myself that I needed to head into this trip with flexibility and take things day by day. Have a plan, but be willing to change the plan if necessary. 

But oh, even with the pre-trip nerves and the extra layer of uncertainty that a pandemic added to this trip, I was so excited. Excited to be on a train, excited to arrive super early to the airport and wait around for hours, excited to board the plane and to take off and be flying across the ocean again. 

The travel went well; all I really needed to enter Spain- other than my passport- was a QR code that Spain required. I’d downloaded the app on my phone the day before I left for Spain, filled out the necessary info, and got my code. The app worked fine and they just scanned it when I got off the plane, and that was it! I was in Spain again!

But arrival is always overwhelming for me. I don’t sleep well on planes, and to suddenly be in another country, hearing an unfamiliar language, trying to navigate where to go… it truly DID feel like I’d forgotten how to do it all! I was flustered. I found a café and got a coffee and a sandwich for the bus ride, but I somehow ended up ordering a super expensive sandwich and I couldn’t remember the words for anything and I was tired but also just really happy to be there, with my first café con leche and the fancy ham and the jet lag. Then, after a lot of confusion, I figured out where I needed to go to get the airport shuttle to the bus station at the airport. From there I took a 6-hour bus ride to Oviedo (didn’t eat the sandwich on the bus because no one was eating anything and we were all masked and I wondered if maybe it was a new COVID rule). It was a lot of travel, hours and hours and hours, and it would have been easier to have spent a night in Madrid, but I just wanted to get to the Camino and start walking, just get there as fast as I could.

Cathedral in Oviedo, Spain

The evening in Oviedo was a whirlwind too, but a whirlwind in a good way. I got to the city and found an Orange store where I could buy a SIM card for my phone, and the woman who helped me was so kind and I walked away with a deal that got me a 28-day plan with a good amount of data that cost only a tad more than my airport sandwich (which I was STILL carrying around because I hadn’t gotten the chance to eat it yet). Then to my albergue- a new and private one just around the corner from the cathedral (La Hospederia Oviedo)- and I checked in and the women working there showed me around and told me that there was a vespers service with a pilgrim blessing starting in 30 minutes. I desperately needed a shower so I rushed through it, briefly met another pilgrim in the albergue and then raced outside, my hair still dripping, to try to find the chapel. I settled into a pew and listened to the nuns singing and despite being exhausted, despite being hungry, despite being overwhelmed with it all- the trains and planes and buses and shuttles and being back in Spain- I felt settled, I felt comforted. I felt like I belonged. 

Travel log:

It will never cease to amaze me, that in one moment I can be home, and the next… just like that (in this case it took over 24 hours but time when you’re traveling always feels strange), just like that you can be in a totally different place. One day ago, or two, I was running around home and buying a new rain jacket and my mom was packing me a sandwich and my dad gave me coffee money, and then, a train here and a plane there, I’m in Spain. I forget how to do this. Do I remember how to do this? How to navigate a place, a language? How to recognize a street, how to spot the first scallop shell marker on the ground and nearly cry for joy. Then, truly, shed a tear or two in a church, a little chapel that I made it to just in time for a vespers service, my hair dripping from my shower, the instructions the hospitaleras gave me still ringing in my ears. I’d been traveling non stop and I needed to eat, and arrange my pack, and just get my bearings but this- being in a church and hearings the nuns singing, followed by a pilgrim’s blessing- this I could remember how to do. And this, sitting in a wooden pew, voices echoing off the thick stone walls, the smell of candles and incense, in a large city in northern Spain: this feels like belonging. And I haven’t even started the walking yet. 

(PS: It might have been the last thing I did that day, but I finally ate my airport sandwich. And it was really good.)

 

July 23rd: Day One, Oviedo to Cornellana, 38km 

I might have felt overwhelmed the evening before, but in the morning, those familiar Camino routines came back to me quickly: creep out of bed as silently as possible to not wake the other pilgrims in the room, change into my hiking clothes, brush my teeth, splash water on my face. There was a small kitchen in the albergue with instant coffee and toast, so I made myself a quick breakfast before I left for the day. While I was eating, one of the pilgrims in my room had gotten up and sat down at the table to have some coffee. He’d been walking on the Norte but had taken a train to Oviedo to switch to the Primitivo, because finding beds in albergues had been difficult. He asked me about my plan for the day, and had some opinions when I told him that I was planning to walk to Cornellana, 38ish kilometers away. “It seems like you’re doing this for some athletic reason,” he said. “You should be flexible with your plan,” he said. “38km is too long for a first day,” he said.

Snail crawling up Camino marker

I’d been excited about my plan; I knew it would, indeed, be a lot for a first day, but then again, this wasn’t my first Camino. And I’d come into this Camino pretty fit, having recently traveled around the American Southwest where I’d done a lot of hiking. AND, there was a monastery I really wanted to stay in. 

And, well, I just really wanted to walk. To walk and walk and walk.

I finished my toast, the last sip of coffee, and stood up from the table. I stuffed my things into my pack and laced up my shoes and said goodbye to the pilgrim and pushed his words from my head. Maybe 38km was too far to walk for a first day, but the only who gets to decide that is me. 

It was raining, a little, when I left Oviedo, and normally I don’t like walking in the rain but this time I barely noticed because I was just so happy to be walking again. It all felt so familiar, but also as though it had been a long, long time since I’d been on a Camino. Much longer than just two years. As I moved away from the city I could feel myself starting to settle in, to remember what it was like to be on a Camino: to always be on the lookout for the yellow arrows, to get used to the weight of my pack against my back, to greet the cows in the fields, to hope to find an open bar for a late morning café con leche. To put one foot in front of the other, over and over and over, and know that I was moving myself a little closer- with each step- to Santiago.

Travel log:

It’s probably too soon to tell, but this Camino feels like “classic Camino.” Classic like… it’s quiet, with not many pilgrims on the way, but when you DO see another pilgrim you really notice them, and take the time to say hello. Classic in that you make a friend on the first day, someone to walk with for an hour or two, to stop with at a big outdoor terrace with a little hidden door that leads down to the river where you can cool your feet, and then a few steps up back to your table where there’s a fresh tortilla pincho on really great bread, and a small of cana of beer, the perfect size.
 
 
Classic in that you walk for a really long time, farther than you should for a first stage (39km!!), but arrive to an 11th century monastery where it’s just you and one other pilgrim who also walked the whole way from Oviedo. You’ve never spoken a word to each other but there you are, high-fiving in the courtyard, beneath the ancient stone. Classic in that you walk to a store together, and buy pasta and a few veggies and take it back to the albergue kitchen (which is open, not many are) and cook a meal and talk about the Camino and about how you got here. Classic in that two more pilgrims stumble in, and you share your food, and the hospitalera brings you small bottles of cider. Classic in that, somehow, you have a small blister from your too long but also just right day, in a place where you’ve never had one before. Classic that it rained on day one, but also that the sun shone, and the hydrangeas were beautiful and you met a nice cat and the villagers said ‘Buen Camino!’ and tried to help when you got turned around in Grado. Classic Camino, let’s hope there are more days like this ahead!
 
chapel on Camino Primitivo
 
flowers in rain on day one of Camino Primitivo
 
 
YouTube video: Primitivo, Day One
 

Next Post: Day 2 on the Primitivo

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, camino primitivo, hiking, long distance walking, Oviedo, pilgrimage, travel, walking

Emerging from Winter

March 15, 2021

What a winter this was! It’s not even technically spring yet, but I’m calling it anyway. We’ve been in the thick of the pandemic for a year and here in the US we’ve turned our clocks forward and daylight stretches past 7pm and the other day I sat on my porch in a patch of sunlight and I felt like I’d made it. Made it through this bleak winter.

And the winter was bleak. I started strong in January: with daily yoga and a break from wine and the creative energy from learning to make Camino videos and I felt really good. “A pandemic winter isn’t so bad!” I think I might have even told myself.

But then the days were cold and the daylight short and the weather bad. Work got tough, many days held more than I could carry. I continued to walk in circles, but all of those walks were local. I didn’t go anywhere- where was there to go? I hunkered down- which isn’t unusual for me, especially in the winter- but this time I kept my head down, too. I think of it a bit like a bad day on the Camino: when your legs are heavy and there’s a blister spreading across the bottom of your foot and every step hurts but it’s even more painful if you stop and so you just keep going. There’s no choice anyway, because you need to reach your destination and so you put your head down, start with a single step, and just keep moving.

That seems to be a bit how I moved my way through this winter: head down, carry on. Look up when the end is near.

Nadine staring into the distance, in a winter landscape

There’s light ahead now, at least it feels that way. I’ve looked up, and the view looks a lot nicer ahead than behind. I’d like to think that this pandemic is retreating, that we’ve turned the tide and that- soon- life will feel open and safe again. Soon, soon.

I’m dreaming of future travel and long walks but, of course, nothing is certain. My hope is that I can eek out a few weeks in France towards the end of summer: a week at my writer’s retreat, a week or two walking in France (I could finally finish Le Chemin du Puy!) I would love to do more walking but so much is up in the air, and it’s hard to imagine being able to get on a plane by mid-June and fly to another country and walk without much of a plan. It almost feels hard to imagine that there was ever a time when I could do that! But I do think there’s a chance that things could shift quickly, and if France lets me in, I will likely go.

But what’s more realistic is that I will be able to safely travel around my own country. Considering I did a big road trip last summer, I think it’s going to feel even easier and a bit safer this summer, and so I’m tentatively looking at the southwest. I know, I know, a road trip through the southwest in the summer is probably not the wisest idea, but I have always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.

And, actually, a year or two ago I read about someone who hiked across the Grand Canyon, North Rim to South Rim, 24 miles… and I saw that some people even do it in a day and did I mention that the winter was bleak and I needed something to dream about? I wondered if a rim-to-rim day hike could be something to set my sights on. A challenge. Something to plan, something to train for. I missed that so much last year, not feeling the strength of my body like I do every summer on my long walks, and I knew I wanted to push myself somehow this year.

Stay tuned. I’ve made some reservations so that if I don’t fly off to Europe in June and I train properly and enough comes together, I just might attempt a Grand Canyon rim to rim hike. Just the thought of it feels adventurous, and that’s enough for now: the possibility of an adventure.

Sunlight throwing long shadows on snow

In other news, I’ve continued to post videos from my 2019 Caminos on YouTube; I just posted the last one and so now I’ve exhausted all of my footage. They were so much fun to make, and I can’t wait to see what I put together when I actually intend to create a longer video. If you haven’t watched them yet, please check them out! Here’s the link to my YouTube channel, and if you don’t want to miss out on future videos, make sure to subscribe AND click the ‘bell’ to be notified of new posts. I filmed a packing video a few weeks ago- it was only meant to be about 15 minutes but then of course was three times as long! I’m trying to edit it down but I guess I had a lot to say about packing for a Camino. Hopefully I’ll have that up in a week or two, and maybe more Camino-related videos as well. I don’t want these new-found video “skills” to get rusty!

In writing news, I’m still working on some shorter essays. I’ve been posting one a month on my Patreon page, my patrons there get exclusive access. These essays are also so much fun to write and to share, and I was thinking that I wished they had a larger audience. So I’ve been toying with putting together an e-book, a collection of these essays so that if you don’t want to sign on as a patron, you can do a one-time purchase of the book. I envision it as including many of the essays that having been going up on Patreon, but with a few more thrown in. My loose goal is to have a book like this pulled together in May… so stay tuned for this as well. (Saying it aloud also makes it real, so I guess I really have to get myself into gear and keep writing!)

That’s about all the news from my corner of the world. Made it through the winter, waiting for those first true signs of spring, walking and writing and dreaming of travel near and far. What’s the news where you are?

More soon.

A line of trees against a blue sky in Wolfs Hollow Park, PA

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Tagged: Camino de Santiago, Grand Canyon, Grand Canyon Rim to Rim, solo female travel, travel, walking

Video: Camino Aragonés Pt 2

January 26, 2021

Nadine writing in journal in Arrés on the Camino Aragones, sunset in background

If you missed part one, click here to watch the first part of my journey on the Camino Aragonés.

After those first 5-days (beginning in France, walking up a mountain in the rain, crossing into Spain and descending into a completely different landscape), I’m now in the small village of Santa Cilia and on my way to Arrés, where a famed albergue awaits me.

The theme of this second half of the Aragonés was definitely the heat. Much of Europe was experiencing a heat wave in late June 2019, and I walked some of my hottest days to date. The temperature reached 40ºC/105ºF on several days, and much of the time the path ran through an open, treeless landscape. This made for some early starts to beat the heat, even some pre-sunrise walking.

The end of the Aragonés- in Puente La Reina- was only the end of that particular path, and not the end of my walking that summer. I finished the Aragonés and caught a bus heading north, where I hoped the air would be cooler.

Here are the stages and links to places I stayed for the five days this video covered:

Day 6: Santa Cilia to Arrés, 10.2km
Albergue de peregrinos de Arrés   (*this is a must-stay albergue!)

Day 7: Arrés to Ruesta, 28.4km
Albergue de Ruesta.  (*very good albergue)

Day 8: Ruesta to Sangüesa, 22km
Albergue de peregrinos de Sangüesa

Day 9: Sangüesa to Monreal, 27.2km
Albergue de peregrinos de Monreal

Day 10: Monreal to Puente La Reina, 30.6km
Albergue de los Padres Reparadores

And here’s the video! I hope you enjoy the adventure.

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Tagged: Camino Aragones, Camino de Santiago, camino videos, hiking, long distance walking, travel, walking, youtube

Becoming a YouTuber?

January 21, 2021

January tends to be a really creative time for me. It was the month when I first created this blog. The month when I hatched the idea for my e-book. The month I started a Patreon, the month I explored posting photographs on Shutterstock (that one never really took off, but it was fun to experiment with.)

This year, and this month, I’ve thrown myself into yet another new thing, and it’s been fun. I started making videos!

I know very little about YouTubing, I don’t even spend all that much time on YouTube. But recently- and probably due to really missing the Camino- I’ve started watching hiking videos. It started with my friend Alan’s videos of his trek across Japan, then I discovered Sara’s Camino journeys. And then another YouTube channel, and another. 

I thought back to an idea I’d had after my 2019 walks on the Aragonés and the Norte. I’d taken short videos every day on those walks and posted them to Instagram stories. I’d had a lot of fun with it and had thought about stringing the videos together into something a little larger, more continuous. Not all of my friends and family were or are on Instagram (and I’d imagine some blog followers aren’t, either!), and many missed those videos. I thought it would be a fun thing to create and share.

So, 2020 turned to 2021, and the pandemic is still here, and the days are cold, the nights are long, and I decided to work on making an Aragonés video. I know I keep saying that making the video was fun, but I can’t think of a better word. It’s fun! I’ve made a few videos before- not really knowing anything about the process and figuring out iMovie by trial and error- but I’ve always really enjoyed the process. And this time was no different. 

There’s so much still to learn, and a lot about the videos that I wish could be different. For starters, all of the vertical clips! (Instagram uses a vertical format for their stories, and so on that platform it made sense to use a vertical orientation. But for YouTube? Not so great!) And because I never really intended to make a video like this, I wish I had shot a lot more, I wish my narration was a little different, a little fuller. 

But I can only work with what I have, and I loved sorting through the clips and stringing them together and finding music and choosing photographs and just… reliving it all. Watching my own progress, seeing how I grow more confident throughout the month, hearing the certainty in my voice, the joy. 

I have one video completed and posted up on YouTube. Here it is! It’s the Part 1 of my walk on the Camino Aragonés, and Part 2 will be done soon. I’m also planning to put together some videos from the Norte as well. After that… well, I’ll have to go on another walk. I think- maybe?- this will be a new project for my next Camino, another way to capture and share the stories of my walks. I’m still going to take lots of photographs and write blog posts, but the videos feel like a very natural evolution. A different kind of picture, a different way to show you my pilgrimage.

I hope you enjoy this new little venture. If you like the first video, please subscribe to the YouTube channel! I’m certainly no expert on this, but it’s a way to be notified when more videos are posted, and it gives me a good sense of how many people are engaged and watching. 

That’s the small update for now; more soon!

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Tagged: Camino Aragones, Camino de Santiago, camino videos, hiking, long distance walking, travel, walking, youtube, youtube camino

November Recap: Ringing bells and blazing sunsets and writing the book!

December 1, 2020

I’ve spent a lot of time in the past 8 months thinking about windows (though maybe not in the most traditional sense). Rather, I’ve been thinking about windows of time and how to ride the waves of this pandemic.

I was so fixated on this in the summer, trying to find the best window of time when it might be possible to travel. When restrictions would lift and case numbers would fall and when it might feel safe enough to venture out and take a trip, or when it might be okay to see family, and friends.

The fall has been like this too, and I think it’s why, in October, I took a few weekend trips and made an effort to get together with friends/family for hiking and coffee as much as possible (well, for me, an introvert through and through, “as much as possible” really means “on the weekends”, but I digress).

November started off strong, fall was still chugging along at full steam, the colors were never more vibrant, the sun was still shining, the air was warm enough for outdoor get togethers.

But all at once (or so it seems), we’ve reversed course. The fall/winter pandemic wave has descended, and even though I expected it, that doesn’t lessen the jolt of its arrival.

I canceled plans, work goes virtual in December (I work in a school and right now it’s only for a week but that could stretch into something much longer), the Thanksgiving table was small.

And yet, despite it all, November held a lot of good moments. I used to think that October was the most beautiful month of fall in the northeast (at least where I live), but in the past few years I’ve found November to be almost as good. And this year it felt as though fall stretched longer than ever- with crisp and sunny days, and the trees displaying a slow and long unfolding of color (are the Japanese maples always this spectacular in November? The reds never seemed so red!)

Fall colors, Japanese maple

Here’s my roundup from November, maybe not as full as October’s, but nearly just as satisfying.

Hiking

Bryn Coed Preserve, Chester Springs, PA: My local Camino chapter gathered in early November (well, actually, it was the last day of October but it didn’t make it into last month’s roundup, so I’m including it here), to hike the trails in the Bryn Coed Preserve (which means “wooded hill” in Welsh). This preserve is part of the “Natural Lands”, a nonprofit organization in PA and southern New Jersey that aims to save outdoor spaces in order to connect people to the great outdoors. There are 16 preserves in the greater Philadelphia area and I’ve been to four of them so far; one of my winter hiking projects is to visit all 16! This was my last meet up for the foreseeable future with my Camino group; due to the rise in COVID cases, all of our scheduled group events have been canceled. Our group only started up again with organized hikes in early October, and I’m grateful I got to several of them while it lasted. Here’s hoping that late winter/spring will bring a return to the Philadelphia-area Camino group hikes!

Camino group walk in Bryn Coed Preserve, Chester Springs, PA

This was the only notable hike of the month; I was scheduled to hike with my Camino group in Havre de Grace, MD, to see the bald eagles at the Conowingo Dam. I did this hike 2 or 3 years ago and it was spectacular, we saw dozens of bald eagles fishing in the Susquehanna and nesting in the trees; the hike was canceled this year but if travel restrictions are eased I might try to make it there sometime this season; eagle spotting is good between November and February.

Otherwise, it was a month full of my local walks. I zipped out to the Harvey Run Trail in the Brandywine valley several times (this is a small network of trails totaling about 5-miles that I discovered in the spring; there are wide open spaces, fields of wild flowers, hardly any people, and the trails wind past the studios of N.C. Wyeth and Andrew Wyeth. One of the bright spots of the pandemic was finding these paths!)

Wyeth studio, Brandywine River Valley, PA

I also made an effort to hike down to my local wildlife preserve, the place I frequented in the spring when I was working from home (a quick ten-minute walk from where I live).

Late fall in Saul Wildlife Preserve, PA

When visiting my parents for Thanksgiving, in Lancaster County, I walked in loops around the park at the top of the neighborhood. I’ve walked in that park so many times that it doesn’t feel notable, but then the light hits the fields just right and I raise my camera to take a photo and realize just how beautiful the landscape in this area of the state is.

White farmhouse, Lancaster County, PA

Watching and Making and Listening

The best show I watched this month was The Queen’s Gambit, on Netflix. It was so wonderful! My initial thought was that a series about chess would be slow and a little dull, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The fashion, the music, the characters, the drama… I highly recommend it!

Listening: this song.

The best thing I made this month was my annual Thanksgiving cheeseboard; no cooking or baking involved, just a bunch of cheese, meats, crackers and some fruit, throw it all together on a big tray, and voila! I love putting this together for my family every year, and even though our Thanksgiving was small, the food was plentiful and the company was good.

Thanksgiving cheeseboard

Writing

This month I did something to try to jump-start my writing: I attended a writing conference! It was an all-virtual event out of Philadelphia, two days of lectures and talks. A lot of it was geared towards writers who were in the final stages of their book writing, and ready to pitch an agent or go after a book deal. Even though I’m not quite there yet, I took a lot of notes and it was so helpful to visualize what the book publishing process would be like. It made it feel like, when I’m ready, I’ll know the steps to take to try to find an agent, what that relationship would be like, the steps to getting published, etc. It also helped me realize that I’m solidly in the “re-write” phase of my book, and that I need to stop hemming and hawing and just get working. I’ve already rewritten chunks of the book but the beginning and first half need a ton of work. But I’m encouraged, and- for the moment- more focused. It feels good!

My essay this month on Patreon is about a Camino date with an Italian man who gave me a necklace (it wasn’t really a date, but then again, on the Camino, it’s so easy to pull up a chair, sit with a stranger, have a drink, and drop into a deep and interesting conversation. It happens all the time, and I wish it were the sort of thing that could happen more in my real life!)

I also wrote a blog post about my summer road trip through the US, here it is in case you missed it.

Other highlights

Around 11am on November 7th, I heard a bell ringing bright and clear, it sounded like it was coming from the house next door. I thought for a moment, then leapt up and grabbed the bell that sits on my mantle. I raced outside and rang and rang, adding to the chorus going up through my neighborhood, all to announce the news: Joe Biden will be the next President of the United States! I knew that it could be (and I’m sure will be) a long two months until he is inaugurated, but in the moment I only felt joy and hope.

I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it every year: are there any skies more beautiful than November skies? It can be frustrating to contend with the dwindling daylight hours, to race against the sun to get a post-work walk in, but so often I’m treated to the most stunning sunsets as I round the corner and head towards home:

Blazing sunset sky

Fall trees and glowing sunset

When I think back on this month, more than anything it feels quiet and calm and still. I think that feeling is going to continue all winter as the pandemic forces me to retreat even more, to hunker down, to be cautious and safe. There will be hikes, bundled-up rendez-vous for coffee, hopefully some Christmas spirit sprinkled in, maybe another backyard fire with my parents, some freshly baked bread, a stack of good books, a few bottles of wine. It might not be an easy winter, but as ever, I’m going to keep my eyes opened to the beauty and the joy.

Hoping everyone is safe and healthy and finding your own moments of joy. More soon.

2 Comments / Filed In: Writing
Tagged: books, hiking, music, Thanksgiving traditions, travel, walking, writer's conference, writing

October Recap: Waterfalls and Scary Movies and Casting a Vote

October 30, 2020

There’s ragu simmering on the stovetop and I’m back to my regular spot at the kitchen table, beer in hand, the place where I sit to think and to write in the fall and winter months. Sometimes I think that I get my best writing done when the weather turns cool. Maybe it’s the shortening daylight (only 6:30 and already dark!), maybe it’s the desire to retreat, hunker down, put on my slippers and a long sweater and sink in. 

And so, back to writing it is!

Despite not posting a ton of content here lately, I think about this blog a lot. I have dozens of ideas for posts, a whole bunch of drafts and half-written things, and dreams of a grand return to blogging. At one point I was tempted to challenge myself to write a post every day for a month (who knows, it could still happen!)

In the meantime, we’ll start here, with a monthly recap. It’s my intention to start doing this every month, to put out a post that rounds up all the little things that I want to share: weekend trips and my latest hikes, what I’m reading/watching/listening to, the things I’m writing and the photographs I’m taking.

It feels like I’m always saying something like- “I can’t believe it’s ** already!”. Wasn’t I just saying that about the end of summer, or the month of September? But now we’re at the end of October and in some ways it still feels like spring. I’ve said this before and I’m still feeling it: it’s as if COVID froze time, as though it were still spring or that it’s one long extension of a very strange season, and that life- real life- won’t begin again until this virus is somewhere behind us.

It feels this way, and yet, life goes on. Real life, as strange as it is, is right now. And October was full of some good things!

Travel

I went on a couple notable weekend trips this month: up to the Adirondacks of New York, and out to the Pine Creek Gorge (often called the “Grand Canyon of PA”) in north-central Pennsylvania. Both trips involved hiking and finding good food and lots of time outside. Plus a chance to soak up the beautiful fall foliage! I think each trip caught the tail end of peak foliage, but even under overcast skies, the landscape was stunning. I might not love cold weather, but I still really appreciate living in a place that has four, distinct seasons. 

Goose Pond Inn Bed and Breakfast, North Creek, NY

Old-fashioned dinner in Wellsboro, PA

Hiking

Moxham Mountain (near North Creek, NY), a 5.5 mile hike featuring expansive lookouts over the Hudson Valley and the Adirondack mountains. There were so many scenic viewpoints and the climb up was gradual/steady, and never very steep. I loved it! 

Summit of Moxham Mountain, NY

Mt. Joy & Mt. Misery, Valley Forge National Park, PA, 6.5 miles: my local Camino group met for the first time since February. The group limit was capped at 10 and we all wore masks throughout the hike (it was easier than I thought it would be! Sometimes when I was a bit out of breath on an uphill section I’d pull my mask down but for the majority of the hike kept it on). Our leader for the day took us on a great loop through the park, including a section on a ‘border trail’ that’s not marked on any of the official maps. Valley Forge can get busy, especially on weekends, but once we got into the woods the people thinned out and it seemed like we had the trees to ourselves. And it was so good to see some of my Camino buddies, and be in a small group again. I was a little nervous heading into the gathering but a hike in the woods- with masks and social distancing- felt safe and good.

Sign at Valley Forge National Park

American Pilgrims on the Camino Philadelphia Chapter, Valley Forge National Park, October 2020

Great Falls Loop, Ricketts Glen State Park, PA, 4 miles: On my way to north-central PA to meet my sister for the weekend, I stopped by Ricketts Glen State Park, known for it’s waterfalls. I’d heard of the park before but had never made the trip- now I’m wondering what’s taken me so long! (like so many others, it’s taken the pandemic to get me exploring more in my own backyard). The 4-mile loop wound past 17 waterfalls- 17!! Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, it did. With dappled sunlight and leaves fluttering down from the trees, it was truly a perfect fall hike. (There’s a longer waterfall loop hike- about 7 miles- but if you park in the Lake Rose lot it’s possible to do a shorter loop and still see all- or nearly all- of the waterfalls).

Great Falls Loop, Ricketts Glen State Park, PA

Double waterfall at Rickett's Glen State Park, PA

Reading/Watching/Listening

It’s taking me forever, but I’m loving Haruki Murakami’s ‘The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle‘. I was reading a ton in late spring/summer, but now that I’m back to work in a school, my energy is sapped at the end of the day. But I’m determined to finish and then start on some of my current library requests: on the docket is Elena Ferrante’s ‘The Lying Life of Adults‘ (still on a waiting list but I can’t wait to read this!), and Yaa Gyasi’s ‘Transcendent Kingdom‘. 

I mentioned this in my last post, but I’m really enjoying David Smith’s new podcast– Clearskies Camino. His blog is a great place for all-things-Camino, and the podcast is proving to be more of the same. Each week he interviews a different pilgrim about their experience on the Camino, and it’s been so much fun to hear the voices of some people I’ve been “following” (blog/social media) for years now. I’m gathering up the courage to be one of his guests- I think I would love talking about my experience but of course these kinds of things always make me so nervous! 

It’s October, and that means scary movies! I watched Netflix’s ‘The Haunting of Bly Manor’ and it was the perfect thing to get me in a spooky kind of mood. Along with my annual viewing of ‘The Shining’, of course. On a completely different note, I’m also watching the new season of The Great British Baking Show (I love, love, love this show).

Writing

This month’s essay on Patreon is a reflective piece, about how an encounter on the Pennine Way got me thinking about what my version of heaven might look like. I’m having a lot of fun working on Patreon essays, and love that I have a place for these writings to land. You’ve got to ‘subscribe’ and sign up as a patron to get access to these once-a-month essays, but levels start as low as $1 a month! The support I’m getting here means the world to me, and I love that a platform like this exists.

I blogged about what it’s like to walk the Camino as an introvert, and as ever, I’m continuing to make slow progress on my Camino book. (An early chapter is up on my Patreon site, and it’s a public piece so you don’t need to be a patron to read it. Check it out!)

Photos

Over on Instagram, I’m revisiting my first Camino- my 2014 journey on the Camino Francés- and it’s been fun to share some of those memories. Otherwise, my camera roll is full of tall trees and fall colors: oranges, reds, yellows. This is one of the most beautiful times of the year in my corner of the world, and I’m trying to get outside everyday for a walk, even if it’s often the same loop through my neighborhood. What a beautiful loop it is!

Majestic fall tree, southeastern PA

Fall neighborhood walk, southeastern PA

***

Two additional, quick highlights:

1: My grandmother turned 90! Happy Birthday Baba!

2: I voted! Election Day isn’t until November 3rd but this year, millions of voters are getting their ballots in early. I dropped off my mail-in ballot at a local drop-box (I was able to walk down my driveway and onto a path through the woods to get there- what a way to vote!), and I got confirmation that it got to where it needed to go. Hoping, praying, for some good change to come to this country.

 

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4 Comments / Filed In: Writing
Tagged: autumn, Election Day, hiking, long distance walking, solo female travel, travel, walking

Walking the Camino as an Introvert

October 13, 2020

I had a lot of worries before my first Camino. They mostly centered around the physical nature of the journey: would I be able to walk all the way to Santiago? Would I develop crippling blisters and have to stop walking? Would I fall and hurt myself? Would I lose the way? Would I run out of water, or food?

But there was another layer of worries as well, and these revolved around the social part of the experience. Would I make friends? Would I walk alone? How would I do sleeping in albergues with dozens and dozens of other pilgrims?

Before the Camino I read a lot of books and blogs and articles, and so many mentioned the idea of a ‘Camino family’. Most people, as they walk, pick up a small group of others that they move through the Camino with. The groups can tend to form early and the bonds are strong. These Camino families, it would appear, were one of the highlights of the way for so many people.

I was intrigued by the idea of a Camino family. I was excited about the possibility of it: a group of people you could always be with! No loneliness! No losing your way! Someone to share a bottle of wine with!

But I was also a little terrified of the idea. When would I ever get my alone time?

I was listening to a podcast the other day, the Clearskies Camino podcast, a new venture from David of Clearskies Camino (a blog I’ve been following for years!) He was interviewing Pablo, of Setmeravelles (another blog I’ve been following for years!), and one piece of advice that Pablo shared was this: Don’t be afraid to make connections with other pilgrims, especially if you’re an introvert.

This struck me, because I don’t often hear talk about introversion on the Camino.

I’m an introvert, through and through. I recently did a Myers Briggs test (for probably the 6th time), just to see how I scored, and on the extraverted/introverted scale, I was 93% introverted. I’ve known this about myself for a long time, but I think I can sometimes forget, because I like people. I really like other people (I’m a counselor who talks to teenagers all day!), and I think a common misconception about introverts is that they don’t like to socialize or be around other people. Another misconception is that all introverts are shy, and quiet (I happen to be rather shy and quiet, but it doesn’t mean that all introverts are!)

The real key to understanding an introvert is this: a lot of time around people can really drain them and tire them out. I, for one, have a limit, and once I reach it, all I want in the world is to be in a space by myself. The time to myself is what energizes me, fills me back up. Plus, I’ve always really liked my own company, and often I want to spend time alone, in my own company. It makes me feel centered and solid, grounded.

The Camino is a really great opportunity to be in your own company: if you’re walking the entirety of the Camino Francés, you’ve got 500 miles of walking, day after day after day. There are a lot of other pilgrims around, but there’s a ton of opportunity to be alone and be with your thoughts.

And, also, the Camino is a really great opportunity to be with other people. I remember a pilgrim I’d met towards the end of the Francés telling me about a girl he’d walked with for the first two weeks of his Camino. “We were never apart,” he said. “Every single minute of every day, we were together.” (I shuddered.) And it wasn’t a romantic thing, it was just… a Camino thing. A people thing. It’s fun to be around other people on the Camino, and with all of that walking, having friends at your side can make the time pass quickly. It’s great to share big experiences with other people.

And I might even argue that most pilgrims, on the Camino, like to share their experience with other people. I could be wrong (and please, say hello in the comments and share your experience if you walked!), but so often on the Camino I saw people in pairs or groups. Even if they’d arrived at the Camino alone, they almost always linked up with other people. Formed their Camino families.

I’ve walked a lot of Caminos since that first one, back in 2014, and I’ve never formed or been part of a Camino family, not really. I’ve made deep connections, I’ve made friends, there were people I would always run into or make loose plans with or stay in the same towns with, but never all the way to Santiago, never until the end of my walk. There are lots of reasons for this (and really, that’s a separate post), but I don’t think I ever needed a true ‘Camino family’ to appreciate the social aspects of the Camino. I’ve had such good, deep experiences with other pilgrims, and the opportunities for those connections is something that makes the Camino really special.

Being an introvert isn’t the only reason I don’t form Camino families when I walk. But I do think it can sometimes feel a little difficult to be introverted and be on an incredibly social sort of experience, surrounded by dozens and dozens- even hundreds and hundreds- of other people every day for weeks at a time. You see them on the trail, you see them in the bars, you see them in the places you sleep (often just feet away in the next bunk bed!).

And sometimes, it can feel a little lonely to see other pilgrims in their groups, laughing and sharing a bottle of wine, and to sometimes be the one on the outside. Even if you’re choosing to be the one on the outside. Even if sometimes you need to be the one on the outside.

Crossing the mountains, Dragonte route, Camino Francés

But I do think it’s possible- very, very possible- to walk the Camino as an introvert and have a fabulous time.

If you’re walking the Camino as part of a pair or a group from home, I think it’s important to have a conversation before you start. I’ve done this on the several occasions that I’ve walked with a friend from home, explaining that, sometimes, I’ll want to walk by myself. It can sometimes feel hard to have this conversation, or to set this expectation (especially if the other person prefers to always have someone to walk with!), but having an open conversation upfront can really help.

And if you’re walking the Camino solo, it’s still important to have these conversations with the people you meet, the friends you make. This is something I learned after my first Camino- when I wasn’t clear enough about my needs and didn’t get enough time alone- and it’s something I’m always working on when I walk. How to be friendly and sometimes walk with others, how to form strong, deep connections, but how to give myself enough of what I need, and the time that I need alone. How to truly walk my own walk.

Introversion on the Camino; solo pilgrim statue, Camino Frances

Sometimes this is hard. Sometimes I can spend hours walking with another pilgrim- sometimes all day- and thoroughly enjoy that time. Sometimes I feel lonely and crave company (and this can be the day after I went slightly off-stage from a group of friends so that I could get alone time). Sometimes I need to tell a friend that I want to walk alone, and I can see hurt and disappointment in their eyes. “It’s not you!” I want to say. “It’s just that I’ll feel so depleted, feel like I’m giving away too much of myself, if I don’t get the chance to walk alone.”

But, mostly, it’s not so bad. I’ve learned how to have this conversation gently, easily (most of the time). Most people get it. Sometimes, I’ll meet someone on the path and fall into a conversation and walk with them for an hour. I love how this can happen on the Camino, and I love that pilgrims usually cut out the small talk, and go right to the deeper stuff (which introverts tend to like anyway). But after walking for awhile, if I want to be alone, all it takes is saying, “I’m going to walk by myself for awhile, but I hope I’ll see you in the next town!” Sometimes I say, “I’m going to stop here and take some photographs.” (Often I do want to take photographs, but sometimes I say this if I don’t feel like explaining that I want to be alone.)

And the Camino really can be the perfect place for both introverts and extroverts. For me, if I’m able to walk all day or most of the day alone, I love that I can socialize in the evenings with other pilgrims. I often really want to spend time with other people, because I’ve already had plenty of time to be on my own.

And if you really need a break, there’s almost always an option to stay in a private room in a pension. I never did on my first Camino (I ended up loving the albergue experience), but on my second Camino, the Norte, there was a night I needed to stay in a pension because the albergues were full. And I have to say, it was an illuminating experience. It was such luxury! To have my own little room, a bed that wasn’t a bunk bed, a bathroom all to myself! I went to a corner store and bought basic supplies for dinner and then returned back to my room and spent hours there, all alone, soaking it up. I loved it. 

In the last few years, I’ve gravitated towards less-traveled paths. My 5-days on the Camino de San Salvador were almost completely solo: no one in the albergues until the last day, no one on the trail with me until the last day. My walk on the Pennine Way was much the same: after some great and fun interactions over the first three days, I went on to walk a very solo walk, often staying in empty bunkhouses. Walking like this isn’t for everyone, and these were on the more extreme end of ‘socially isolated’ walks. But there are some good in-between trails. For me, the Camino Aragonés is the perfect blend of quiet time and socialization. Not many pilgrims walk, but there are just enough- maybe a dozen or two- walking the same stages. You’ll mostly be alone on the path, but will inevitably run into the same group in the evenings. Perfect for a friendly introvert like me.

One of my favorite things on the Camino is when I unite with other introverts. I had a few days on the Norte when this happened- somehow, a group of about 6 of us came together. We were all on the Camino alone, none of us had formed a ‘Camino family’, most of us seemed to be doing our own thing, I suspect we were all introverts. But we came together for a night in such a beautiful, perfect way, to share a meal and talk and laugh and feel so at ease together. We parted the next day, we didn’t walk or stay together as Camino families tend to do, but that didn’t make the experience any less magical, or any less meaningful.

I’m always curious about others’ experiences: how many readers/pilgrims/walkers are introverts? Do you ever have difficulty with the social experience of the Camino or a long walk? How do you balance the social opportunities with enough time alone?

6 Comments / Filed In: Camino de Santiago, Travel
Tagged: Camino Aragones, Camino de Santiago, camino del norte, Camino Frances, hiking, introvert, long distance walking, pennine way, solo female travel, travel, walking

If I Had Three Days in Paris…

September 20, 2020

I woke up this morning missing Paris. Maybe it’s the weather; it was cold this morning, almost unseasonably so, and sometimes when there are sharp changes in the weather my memories of past events flood in so strongly. The first time I was in Paris was at the end of October, 20 years ago. I was studying in a city in the south of France and the weather there must have been warmer, because when we got to Paris it felt like we’d stepped into fall.

So maybe it was the weather this morning, or maybe it’s the coronavirus and missing the things that I usually do. Every week it seems like I’m missing something different: the sounds of a baseball game, the stillness of an art museum, sitting around a table drinking a beer with my Camino group.

Today it was Paris. I’ve been there a lot, but this is the first year in a long stretch of years that I haven’t stepped foot in the city. I didn’t think about it so much during the summer, my thoughts were focused on the long walks I was supposed to be taking, not the two or three days I’d planned in Paris at the end of my trip.

But maybe it’s only now, now that the season is changing and we’re entering the long and slow march towards winter, that I can feel it so strongly: I didn’t get on a plane this year. I didn’t see Notre Dame, I didn’t eat a baguette by the Seine.

I have a long weekend coming up. I needed to use a few days of PTO and my school is off for Yom Kippur, so I have this little, extra pocket of time. I’m sticking close to home, going back to the local walks I did every day in the spring, taking a book out to that patch of sunlight on my porch. And yet, I couldn’t help but dream, dream about what it would be like to find a cheap flight to Paris and drive to the airport on Thursday evening and wake up in Paris on Friday morning.

I can’t get on a flight to France right now. But if I could, what would those three days in Paris be like?

I’ve often mentioned how much I love Paris on this blog, but I realize that I haven’t written much about it. There’s this post about my week there in 2017, and this post about Notre Dame, but not much more.

I probably have at least 3 or 4 partially written posts about Paris in the drafts folder on this blog. I always think that I should write about my favorite places, my favorite museums, my favorite walks, tips I have for solo travel and budget travel.

After all, I’m getting to know Paris. It’s the city I know best in the world, and I’m by no means an expert, but traveling there has now become easy. It’s almost mindless, that’s how frequently I seem to stop in. Often it’s just for an overnight at the very beginning of a long trip, or a day at the very end, but sometimes I squeeze in some extra time.

And so I know my way around my favorite areas. I know where I like to stay and where to pick up some groceries and somehow the French comes back to me and I can navigate and communicate. I stop by all of my favorite spots. I sit, sometimes, on the same benches. I can see the same views, over and over, and never get tired of them.

Sparkling Eiffel Tower at sunset, view from the towers of Notre Dame, Paris, France

So if I had three days, a long weekend at the beginning of fall when the air is crisp and the leaves are red at their edges, what would I do?

I’d do all of my favorite things.

This post is by no means a comprehensive guide or itinerary to three days in Paris. To be sure, most people with three days in Paris would spend them very differently. You’ll note that some of the biggest attractions aren’t included here. There are many, many great posts and resources for planning a trip to Paris, and this isn’t necessarily one of them (though, for any first timers to Paris and anyone revisiting this city, I think there’s a lot here to take note of).

This is a dream, a fantasy. If I could close my eyes and be transported back to Paris, back to a city where the spire of Notre Dame still stands and people crowd inside virus-free spaces, this is how I would spend my days.

My Three Days in Paris

In no particular order.

I’ll exit the metro in St-Paul, a neighborhood in the Marais district, and when I reach the top of the stairs at the metro stop, the first thing I’ll see is a small carousel, the one that has always been there. I’lll walk down the narrow cobblestoned alley, a shortcut to my hostel. Sometime in the last few years they upgraded the pillows, but the squares of pink toilet paper- like the carousel- are the same as they’ve always been.

  • buying a baguette in Paris
  • hunting down the best baguettes in Paris, Aux Desirs de Manon

I’ll buy a baguette. (Paris on a budget tip: you don’t need to order an entire baguette unless, of course, you know you’ll eat all of it. I nearly always order a une demi-baguette instead, for the princely sum of about 40 cents. I like to buy bread from a different boulangerie every day (you can find a boulangerie on just about every corner in Paris, and nearly all have high quality baguettes, but this place is a favorite. So is this one.)

  • The Thinker, Musée Rodin, Paris

I’ll go to my favorite art museums. There are a lot in Paris, but because I only have three days and because the sun is shining, I’ll just stop by two (the two I go back to every time): Musée de l’Orangerie, and Musée Rodin. If I can, I’ll arrive at Musée de L’Orangerie just as they open (or, maybe, within the first hour of opening). This is a small museum about a five minute walk from the Louvre and through the Tuileries, famous for housing Monet’s water lilies. Monet picked this very spot and very museum for his masterpieces, intending visitors to experience a calm oasis when surrounded by his paintings. Because this is my fantasy, and because I arrived early, I manage to have the rooms to myself. The Musée Rodin is another gem, both the indoor museum and outdoor grounds are worth visiting. (Paris on a budget tip: for 4 euros, you can buy a ticket just to the outdoor sculpture garden).

I’ll walk the Promenade Plantée. If you’re familiar with the High Line in NYC, then you’ll understand what the Promenade Plantée is (but Paris did it first): a 4.7km elevated walkway/park, a magical green space above the city, stretching from the Bastille to the Bois de Vincennes. It’s my favorite walk in the city, one that is frequented largely by locals, rather than tourists.

I’ll visit Shakespeare and Company, the historic English language bookstore on the Left Bank. I’ll buy a book and then stop by the café next door for a coffee.

I’ll walk through Père Lachaise, Paris’ most famous cemetery, located in the 20th arrondissement. I try to go whenever I’m in Paris, and each time make sure to stop by to see Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison. There’s now a plexiglass barrier around Wilde’s tomb (and Jim Morrison’s is heavily guarded as well), and it turns out those red lips were wearing away at the stone, so it’s best to keep your distance and pay your respects without doing any damage.

I’ll drink café crèmes and café noisettes (a shot of espresso cut with a little milk) to my heart’s content. A favorite place for coffee is in the charming Place Contrescarpe, just around the corner from the little apartment where Hemingway once lived (74 rue du Cardinal Lemoine).

I’ll have a picnic on the Seine. If the weather is cool I’ll put on a sweater and a scarf and call a friend, or maybe just go on my own: spread out a blanket and open a bottle of wine, break off a hunk of baguette and pair it with a good, soft cheese, a handful of raspberries, a ripe tomato (you can find good picnic food all over Paris, but La Grande Epicerie is an experience. Described as a food department store rather than a grocery store, it has anything and everything you could want for a Parisian picnic).

I’ll visit one or two of Paris’ many beautiful parks and gardens. My favorites are the Jardin de Luxembourg, and the Jardin des Plantes (both on the left bank). On a nice day it will seem like all of Paris is out in the gardens, and you’ll be lucky if you can nab one of the green chairs (bonus points if you get a ‘reclining’, or ‘low’ chair!).

I’ll walk around the city with my camera, looking for that beautiful light, for ornate architecture, winding and empty streets, the reflection of rain on the sidewalk. I’ll take a hundred photos, and then take a hundred more.

  • Sitting by Notre-Dame, Paris, France
  • Notre-Dame and cherry blossoms, Paris, France

I’ll stop by Notre Dame. Actually, this will be the very first thing I do, because it’s the first thing I do every time. I’ll pretend that there was no fire, that the cathedral sits on the Île de la Cité untouched and perfect. I’ll climb its towers and look out over the city, I’ll circle around and sit beneath the flying buttresses, I’ll walk over a bridge so I can get a perfect view, so I can take it all in.

*****

If I close my eyes and think, hard, about the how the light reflects on the Seine, quiet ripples, steady waves, I can imagine that I’m back there. I go for a long weekend of the imagination, filled with cafés and bookstores and cobblestoned streets, stone gargoyles and rose-colored light.

One day we’ll go back.

8 Comments / Filed In: France, Travel
Tagged: France, Musée de l'Orangerie, Musée Rodin, Notre Dame, Paris, Promenade Plantée, Shakespeare and Company, solo-female travel, travel

The Beginning of Something (a new season)

September 8, 2020

Summer is winding down, ending, already over. How? Is it stranger this year because of COVID, and the feeling like we might still be at the end of winter, early March, and that these last 6 months have all been some sort of a dream? It feels that way, like these last two warm seasons were just a tease, and that real life stopped in March, and that when we wake up we’ll be back there, still wearing puffy coats and sweaters, still waiting for the first signs of spring.

Marsh Creek State Park hiking trail

My summer was… okay. It was good, it was long, it was short, it was so hot and humid, I was restless, I was settled, I was anxious, I was joyful. The times when I felt settled were usually when I was driving on a long and empty road, or standing by an ocean. Nearly all the rest of the time it felt like I was waiting: waiting for the day to finish, waiting to move into the next week, the next month, waiting for this virus to be “solved” and to be in a place where I could move ahead with life.

Sunrise and ocean

This is not generally the way I want to live, and it certainly wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my summer, but I keep repeating to myself: “We’re in a pandemic. This is still a crisis. It’s okay that the summer wasn’t all it could be. There was no way the summer could have been what you expected.”

And now we’re heading into a new season and the large questions of this time still remain. How long will we continue to be in this? Will I feel unsafe working from my school? Will I be able to manage all of the work that I’m facing this year? What happens when the weather turns cold, when I can’t see people outdoors? What happens in November, who will be elected president? How will that have an effect on the state of my country?

Sunrise on Assateague Island, MD

It often feels like a little too much and I can get trapped here, trapped with the questioning and the wishing that time could speed up, that I could arrive at a point where it is safe to get on a plane and travel to a new place and go on a long walk.

Instead, I’m here, home, on my couch and on my porch. Soon I’ll be back in a school and even though I had a long break from work, it almost feels as though there was no real break at all.

I think and think about what I can do to quiet the questions and the restlessness, and the answers are what they always are: Walk. Write. Repeat and repeat.

My writing has gone in slow waves this summer, from nonexistent to small things to occasionally a big burst of something. But then there are the ideas, too, the ideas of new things to write and new things to share and when I start working on an idea, it feels really good. It’s enough to even make me forget that there is a pandemic swirling around, and I can sink into the excitement of something new, even if it’s just the words I’m putting on a page.

Trying to write a book

I’ve been working on some essays, maybe you could call them pieces of long-form travel writing. Whatever they’re called, they’ve been fun to work on, and I have nearly a dozen ideas of what to write about. They are stories and lessons from the last 6 years (or, the last 20 years, if you go all the way back to my college year abroad). Initially I thought that I might try to put the essays into an e-book, and for the last year have been coming back to that idea (when I’m not trying to finish writing the Camino Book).

But a few weeks ago I had another thought, and this one feels good. Nearly two years ago I started a Patreon, and have occasionally posted short ramblings and photos, but I’ve always intended to do more. The support that I’m getting there has been phenomenal and has meant so much to me, especially because my patrons aren’t getting much directly from the site- no real bonuses or perks. They’re supporting the work I’ve already done, and whether the know it or not, are giving me a tremendous amount of encouragement to keep chipping away.

But then it occurred to me- Patreon would be the perfect place to publish these essays I’ve been working on/dreaming up! I always worried that posting regularly to Patreon would take away from what I would share on this blog, and would also take away from the precious time I have to work on my book. And those concerns are legitimate, but I think an essay a month is more than do-able. It will keep my writing muscles strong, it will motivate me to write out some of the stories I’ve been meaning to share, and it will give those stories a place.

To have access to the stories, readers will need to sign up to be a patron (it’s easy and I’ve included several levels from as little as $1 or $3 a month), and patrons can cancel at any time. To give you a little taste, I’m making September’s essay public for the rest of the month (which means you can read without signing up to be a patron). It’s a slightly altered excerpt from the book I’m working on about my first Camino, and this section includes my arrival in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and what it was like to face the beginning of a 500-mile long walk.

Leaving home for my first Camino

So go check that out, even if you don’t intend or can’t afford to be my patron- I’d love for you to read some of my work in progress!

It feels good to be writing, and to give myself accountability in this way. It’s nerve-wracking and a little scary, too (publishing/posting anything I write always is), but that’s not a bad thing. And in these months, I need something to focus on, something that moves me forward, something to anchor me while the rest of the world swirls and rages.

And, otherwise, I’m going to walk. There’s nothing big planned- how can there be?- and while I wish I could be chronicling a grand adventure, instead I need to focus on what’s around me. The same walks I always do, but also exploring the parks and trails a little further afield. Finding joy and adventure in these smaller journeys is something I’ve been trying to work on in these last 6 months, and I’m slowly getting better at it. I can’t wait to be back on a long-distance path somewhere out in the greater world, but in the meantime, I’ll continue to look for the beauty in my own backyard. Walking, any way you do it, however you do it, is good.

So that’s the update for the moment: new writing on Patreon, and stretching my legs wherever I can. Mourning, a bit, the end of summer, but keeping an open mind as to what this next season might bring.

Late summer sunlight through trees

Leave a Comment / Filed In: Travel, Writing
Tagged: Camino de Santiago, Camino Frances, coronavirus, memoir, patreon, solo female travel, travel, writing

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Welcome! I’m Nadine: a traveler, a pilgrim, a walker, a writer, a coffee drinker. This is where I share my stories, my thoughts and my walks. I hope you enjoy the site!
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