Greetings from Santiago!

Just off the path, June 12th


Tuesday -- a day early -- we walked into Santiago completing our journey of 38 days and an undetermined number of kilometers. It turns out that none of the guides agree with one another regarding the distances (and the differences are pretty substantial), there are numerous detours and, not to forget, the many excursions searching for the elusive arrows. Walking through the outskirts and then into the heart of the old city to finally reach the cathedral is a strange experience knowing that you are now done and the purpose of each day is redefined.


On Sunday, the Camino del Norte merged with the Camino Frances in the town of Arzua. The Camino Frances is considered the main route from the Pyrenees and has the most traffic. Having walked that route before (first time in 2000), we were prepared for a big change in pilgrim traffic and atmoshpere. But not prepared for the crowds! The window from our room in the pension looked out over the path and it was a steady stream of walkers for hours. Most of the time when we walked the final 2 days there were always other pilgrims in sight... as well as garbage cans at regular intervals to collect pilgrim detritus. It was nothing like this 7 years ago and a huge contrast to the the Camino del Norte when we seldom saw another person. At this point it seems like the Germans are close to outnumbering the Spanish. It wasn´t until our last day that we met some other Americans.


The last week of walking there was a small group of about 10 moving at the same intervals. We didn´t see each other during the day very much but then would all congregate at the albergue for laundry, wine and meals. Often we slept in the same room that loked like a bomb had exploded when backpacks were unloaded and the next morning were immaculate again. One of the last nights it occurred to me that the pilgrim lullaby should be "Strangers In The Night."





Carving of Santiago the Moor Slayer (the un PC version)


We spent one night at a huge cathedral and monastery in the town of Sobrado. Evidently it had been restored in the early part of the 1900´s but the cathedral had also been deconsecrated and was completely empty. We toured it during a massive thunderstorm and downpour, you could see the plants once again beginnng to overtake the domes. The old kitchen (from the 13th century) was open with a huge central firepit and chimney, home to many birds. Very strange and eerie. That night there was chanting with the monks -- Laurie said there were close to 20 and many were young, some Asian -- but I elected to enjoy some time alone amidst the 48 beds.




Our last day of walking we passed through a small farming village with wooden plows in the barns, oxen out back and then up the hill to skirt the airport runway, around the broadcasting stations for the two big news channels, by some tired villages, over a freeway bridge and into town. Experiences and places that are only a few minutes or hours away by car are suddenly so distant. It´s odd to be done but I am glad to have arrived and very happy at the prospect of coming home. Very happy!

A few miscellaneous shots:

above: preparing for the giant marshmallow harvest

below: the view from the laundry line at the hostel in Tapie de Casareigos

Finally, some pictures!

Above, a street scene from Oviedo -- a very lovely little city.



A typical path in Galicia... moving south from the coast.


These giant puppet heads were on benches next to the police station in Maldoñedo. (No, we were not there for drunkenand disorderly conduct... we were picking up the key to the albergue.)

I would send more but the connection here is practically dial up. Will keep trying as we move along.

Best wishes from Vilalba... the Fresno of Spain.

heading inland on the home stretch

Today we had our last view of the ocean and have begun the trail south toward Santiago. Only 9 more days of walking left! You´ll have to guess if that is exultation over the accomplishment or excitement that the end is in sight :-)

The walking since Luarca has been wonderful... long gently sloping stretches along coastal bluffs with distant views of the ocean and refreshing, cool breezes. The days have been fewer kilometers and allowed for longer lunches lying in fields. The rest of the way, with one exception, the daily distance will be 12-15 miles which is quite manageable. The wear and tear is beginning to be felt with new symptoms daily but, in general, I wake up feeling good.

We spent last night in Tapia de Casariego, a town that had the feeling of Manhattan Beach in the 60´s but with 3 of the most spectacular beaches you can imagine. There were a couple of surf shops and some awesome dudes but the waves were far from gnarley. We slept at the pilgrim´s hostel, one of the nicer ones. It was situated on a cliff just above the ocean, featuring a laundry line with a million dollar view of a cove with numerous rock islands. The place was nearly full but quite a few people will be going home today but planning to return to finish the trip another time.

Again, I can´t load photos here but will try later from another place. Thanks for your notes & encouragement!

This Camino is much lonelier than the French route. We are lucky to meet any other walkers each day and this whole time have only met 3 other native English speakers. Laurie´s phenomenal Spanish and my mediocre French help us get by.

a good pilgrim never complains part 2

Leaving Oviedo, we headed north to Aviles to reconnect with the Camino del Norte. Most of the pilgrims who go to Oviedo continue south on the "Camino Primitivo" through the Cordillera Cantabrica. (As you might guess, I was not tempted to cross anything "primitivo.") The walk to Aviles was one of those segments that you don´t want your parents to know about or your kids to try... we spent at least 16km on a winding secondary highway with non existent shoulder. The terrain was actually quite pretty but hard to fully appreciate when anticipating oncoming trucks. The adrenaline, however, added to speed to my gait and we arrived in good time. Aviles has a bad reputation as an unattractive industrial city and while the residential outskirts were not inspiring, the historical center of the city and parks were really wonderful with blocks and blocks of covered walks and beautiful buildings, plazas and fountains. The guide I bought said the pilgrim´s hostel in Aviles was "excellent and highly recommended" and we thought that it would be a good place to reconnect with others who were continuing on the route. Disappointment on both counts. The hostel stretched the definition of excellent well beyond the credible and the occupants were two older guy loners, a pair who left at 5:00 and a Spanish guy who was sick.

The next day, on the way out of Aviles, we ran into a very nice Spanish guy who had biked or walked most of the Caminos and was just talking a stroll. He shared his maps with us and helped to get us off the pavement. Unlike the route we have taken before, the Camino del Norte is (so far) at least 60% pavement which is very hard on the feet so any opportunity to walk on gravel, grass, leaves, even some packed mud is most welcome. Stopping for lunch in Muros de Nalon we encountered a British woman who lives there with her Spanish husband. She was an interesting character (classic motorbike enthusiast) who professed to dislike walking and characterized the Camino del Norte as poorly tended and needing a machete. We opined to the contrary and marched off in the wrong direction. (The signage on this camino is spotty: 5 arrows in one place with no choices and then lots of intersecting paths with no indication to speak of.) We found our way eventually and stayed in Cudillero, a small port reputed to have started as a base for pirates since it is very steep and well hidden from the sea. It was a great spot.

Yesterday we left Cudillero a bit before 8:00 feeling very chipper and looking forward to another beautiful coastal walk. This coast is much rougher than before with lots of steep cliffs and deep canyons so the path winds back around the canyons or steeply down and up again. Early on we had a wonderful stretch through a pine forest with soft paths. Alas, it was one of those areas lacking in arrows and we enjoyed an extra 3km or so trying to find our way. Later, our guide (in an update) indicated that an uphill segment was newly cleared and easy to traverse. On this path, the machete comment was more fully appreciated as we made our way through overgrown berry bushes, nettles and gorse so thick that it was hard to see a path (especially while disentangling my shirt from thorns or my boot from the mud beneath the weeds.) We emerged back on the road looking very much worse, kind of laughing. Another long stretch on a very lonely secondary highway and then the arrows sent us down canyon to save a kilometer before the next little hamlet. Fending off goats with my box of cookies, we bypassed a vast puddle by scrambling up over an old, moss covered rock wall. Once again adrenaline saves the day. As we proceed down (it is now 5:00 pm and we have only taken 2 breaks) the sound of running water grows louder and I figure that there is surely a bridge or crossing of some sort but no, only a very narrow mossy tree trunk. I didn´t have that much adrenaline left nor did Laurie so we looked up and down for possible crossings. Not finding any, we proceeded to collect rocks, throw them strategically in the stream and create out own crossing. (Pretty sure we earned a Girls Scout badge.) By the time we reached Santa Marina we were drenched and spent, not laughing (me at least) but pretty impressed with ourselves and our teamwork. The pension was modest and chilly, dinner was tasteless (I believe Laurie used the word disgusting for the canned roast beef) BUT the water was hot, the food was warm, the beds soft and the wine had alcohol and I slept like the dead. With visions of taking the train dancing in my head -- which I did today!

getting the pilgrim groove on

To start (since I seem unable to move them on this particular machine), a few photos:

This is a view of the Camino outside of Ribadisella. Unbelievable!

Some coastal views from the walk to Ribadisella from Llanes.


Sorry this one is sideways -- it is the Church of the Sorrows of the Mud. I am not kidding, either. (And by the way, yesterday we passed many flyers for the fiestas celebrating the "Virgen de la Cabeza." That´s the Virgin of the Head. Honest, I am not making this up!)



Getting into it...

There seems to be some combination of conditioning, weight loss, pack adjustment, and feet toughening that equates to the right energy to keep walking and walking. Finally I have reached that point where the pack is weightless and my legs don´t feel like leaden pegs -- what a difference! And the scenery of the past week has been astonishing. I think the Asturian coast is one of the best kept secrets of the world. We have covered miles and miles of rocky coves, endless beaches without anyone else on them, meadows fillled with flowers and only an occasional village here and there. The rolling countryside is like a combination of Ireland and Switzerland. Suffice to say, I would encourage anyone to include this part of Spain on their itinerary.

Yesterday we took a detour to visit an 8th century church and monastery in the corner of a remote valley. The church still had remnants of the original paintings that were used to decorate the interior. Sitting as it was in the middle of a meadow with a stream running behind, it made quite an impression. Most of the churches are closed and we were lucky to arrive just in time to get admission. Aftr visiting the church, we asked for stamps for our pilgrim credentials and were directed to the monastery door, to ring a bell. A voice asked what we wanted and we were instructed to wait. And wait. Finally a monk appeared in his robes to provide the requested stamp. We were dutifully polite and thankful but the Brother remained silent and expressionless. At the end pf the procdure there was the glimmer of smile and walking back to get our packs I speculated to Laurie that perhaps he had taken a vow of silence. Moments later we heard him ask the lady in the ticket office if his fax had arrived yet.

People see many fewer pilgrims on this route and tend to stare and point (and, I might add, laugh) without reservation. At then end of a long day on asphalt when I am tired and sweaty, it can get to me a bit. Walking into Oviedo today, soggier from rainy drizzle than sweat, and feeling every pound on the pavement, a woman across the road with her rolling market basket stopped and began clapping and smiling for us. It was very touching and amazingly energizing.

Our friends from Germany have all returned home and the few familiar faces are thinning out. We did run into the Belgians again and actually got smiles when I offered food.

A lot of the t shirts here that the locals wear have English phrases on them. It seems sort of odd to pick a shirt that says something you can´t understand. And why do I assume that they are not understood? Consider my favorites:

sponge 52

i am not the bus driver

safari wild prestige 5

surfing flavour

On a final unreflective note, the TV is everywhere in the background (or worse, foreground) in every cafe and restaurant. Usually it is music videos or some inane talk show that makes Jerry Springer look like Charlie Rose. Last night it was the Spanish version of one of those celebrity gossip shows we were ignoring during our dinner when out of the corner of my eye I saw Mick Jagger on teh creen. I pointed this out to Laurie who shrieked with laughter when she read the caption that he was reported to be using bee strings instead of viagra. Just what inquiring pilgrim minds need to know....

a few words about humility

On Friday, I took another taxi while the rest of the Anti Belgian Pilgrim League made their way by foot from Comillas -- a very charming seaside town with many huge medieval and gothic monuments as well as a tower by Gaudi -- to another resort and fishing town called San Vicented de la Barquera. The plan was that we would meet at the "Albergue de Peregrinos" (pilgrim´s hostel). I made my way ahead to drop off my pack and found the place closed until one in the afternoon. The entrance, through a construction site and around some large boulders strewn with garbage outside a garage did not make a promising impression but not wanting to be one of "those" pilgrims who complain and fail to show gratitude, I elected to hope for the best. When my companeras finally arrived, we were informed by the host (a small older guy who appeared in each of about 300 photos of him with happy groups of pilgrims lining the wall of the reception hall) that we had to leave our shoes outside, could not take food inside in our packs, not put our packs on the beds, and that dinner was served at 8:00. Since Karoline was leaving for home on Saturday morning we had planned a special dinner and explained that we would be going to a restaurant. This invited a lecture about the art of pilgrimage, eating and singing together, and accepting the gifts that are offered along the way. We thanked the man for the kind offer and again explained that we had made this plan with our friends. The next morning as we sat down to the breakfast of coffee and bread with jam, the host kept pressing more and more food upon us (which we declined), objected when I went to wash the dishes, and then was heard complaining that he would have to eat out since we ate all the bread. As a final parting gift as we left to walk Karoline to the bus station, we were treated to a lecture on American lack of humility, parallels with the Roman Empire and proper pilgrimage. Since we have now encountered 2 days of nasty wet weather, it is clear that Sr Padre Peregrino was right and we -- (along with the rest of Spain, I am sorry to say!) -- are being punished with a week of grey, rain, and wind. Today we are all taking rest day in Llanes, our first big town in Asturias. I imagine that yesterday´s walk would have been quite spectacular in clearer weather. We are just north of the Picos de Europa, Spain´s highest mountain range with snow covered peaks that a currently covered by clouds. The coast is much wilder and rockier that what we have seen before. Much of yesterday´s hike was on bluffs above the sea cliffs that were lined with natural rock chimneys that spewed forceful plumes of water powered by the force of the surf. The sound was unearthly. We arrived in Llanes totally wet and very happy to find a nice little pension (with a heater!!). Tomorrow (Tuesday), Uta and Monica leave for Germany so it will just be Laurie and me with the crappy guide book I bought in England. Ooops... I mean we will depart with gratitude for the guidance of pilgrims who have gone before us and and written so... uh... creatively about the directions to Santiago. (And thanks also to the editors who were clearly able to relax during their duties.)

And now, some more random photos.

In the old town of Llanes

"Memory Cubes" an art installation along the harbor wall at Llanes.

A good pilgrim is always thankful and never complains

When we were given our "credenciales" at the beginning of the Camino in Irun, we were instructed to carefully read the rules for good pilgrims. On previous treks we had seen these posted (only in the worst, dirtiest and coldest places, I might add) and I understand that there are definitely those people who use the Camino as a cheap holiday. However, there are times when the kind and generous spirit escapes this pilgrim. A brief digression: when we register at the pilgrim hostels we are asked for our nationality, starting place and destination, and reason for peregrination. Almost everyone gives "spirituality" as the reason for walking and I wonder what would happen if I said "to lose weight" or "find out how much I can drink." OK... back to the down and dirty of the catty pilgrim. There are some people you meet on foot that are hard to figure out. For example, the night we stayed in the monastery outside of Burkina Faso, a Belgian man (60 ish and a serious snorer) and his two female cousins arrived by taxi. The story was that he had completed the Camino del Norte a week before, flown home for his daughter´s wedding, and returned to begin again with his cousins. This little trio is the highest maintenance group... always making noise about having to take upper bunks in the hostels, hogging blankets, NEVER saying hola, using all the clothesline, etc. And, suspiciously, found in hostels shortly after the taxis are seen.

Laurie and I have fallen in with some great German women -- Laurie, Uta, Monica and Karoline in photo above -- and we have become de facto leaders of the Anti Belgian Pilgrims League. Today is a short day (11 K for the walkers and taxi for me and El Cidito) and we expect to fall out of rhythm with the offending trio. Enough griping.

Santander is a wonderful city. I got to meet a friend of my friend (Deborah) who has moved home after many years away. Angeles (see photo above with me & Laurie) met me near the Cathedral and I was ablke to give her the gift that Deb had sent... very nice to meet a local. Wish we had had more time together. The way out of the city the next day was a stark contrast to the way in.... endless industrial parks, tiny pueblos without services (read: bar) and all cement and asphalt. The host of the hostel in Santander was out for a drive and offered to take our backpacks to the next hostel -- a private one with a great reputation -- for us. It really helped although it committed us to a 28k walk.

Photo above is a random shot of the cloister in Santillana del Mar -- beautiful spot we visited yesterday. (I had hoped to find a shot of the walk into Santander but I am kind of guessing based on the numbers on the memory card.)

Since then, I have been walking part way and taking a taxi the other to give my tired feet a break. Today we are in San Vincente de la Barquera and will enjoy the beach and be tourists for the afternoon.

The best smelling camino yet

The paths all along the coast are lined with linden trees, honeysuckle and mock orange -- the result is a perfumed breeze that smells heavenly and helps you forget how very ripe you, yourself might smell.

The rest in Bilbao was helpful, it´s amazing how much your feet can recover in one day. It turned out to be quite hot and the forecast called fro 5 days more of the same so I went in search of a cooler shirt. Like umbrellas on a grey day, this shirt has the power to change weather forecast and can avert a heat wave. Walking out of Bibao was very much in line with what I refer to as the Uniform Ugly Outskirts Act, complete with a 363 step staircase (up, of course), several tours through squatters camps, and many twists turns, ups downs and depressing suburbs. 24k later we arrived in Portugalete on the coast. Later we met up with some Germans who took a more direct route and arrived in 11k. The English guidebook I purchased is losing credibility daily.

The next day was 28k to the seaside town of Castro Urdiales. There were quite a few Spanish -- and a few French -- tourists there but comparatively empty compared to the high summer season. The number of closed apartments and condos is another testament to the health of the Spanish economy that so many people can afford vacation homes. Since the albergue was far out of town we decided to spring for a pension. Our late afternoon ritual involves beer at an outdoor cafe while icing our feet. It does invite stares but after 17 miles it´s irrelevant. Weekends in Spain are party time and our room was over a disco so ear plugs once again came into service.

We treated ourselves to short day (7 miles) walking to a small coastal town called Islares. It was a beautiful walk and the coast was incredible. Very rocky, green grass, bright blue skies, lots of flowers. Stayed at a restaurant/pension on the highway with a big and full parking lot -- I assumed it meant the food was good. In fact, I think I have had my peak paella experience. It was amazing. Soent the afternoon down on some bluffs by the water watching kids play with the surf pounding the shores. As much as I was loving it, my feet were back in revolt.

HAS EL CID RETURNED
The infamous huge blister of my first camino, "El Cid" has been reincarnated in a smaller but equally potent position. Son of Cid. Rest and lots of molefoam helps but I was not up to a 28k trek trhough the hills. Laurie kindly went all over the town to try to discover the bus schedule for Sunday (Mother´s day) and left early in the AM assured that we would meet in Laredo in the early afternoon. I waited. A bus came... not for Laredo. Driver said it wouldn´t come until 3:30. OK. OK. I´ll walk along the highway... it´s only 9 miles. 7 minutes later as I am trudging along, a bus forLaredo passes me. Long story short, after I returned to the bus stop thinking the maybe the schedule was simply a bit off, I had an opportunity -- for four hours -- to examine my non existent Zen practice of quieting my mind. Alternately certain I would catch a flight home from Santander, I decided that I wanted to finish this camino. I finally managed to get a taxi to Laredo... the driver even stopped to pick some herbs tyo put in a footbath to help my feet. (I guess it did.) Laredo has the second longest beach in Spain (no one could tell us the longets) that is gorgeous but the town lacks much charm. These beaches are incredibly wide, clean and with silky smooth sand, shallow waters. I think the Cantabrian coast is a much overlooked destination.

Yesterday we took a small boat across a channel to the next town and began a 25k trek along beaches and bluffs that rival Big Sur and Carmel. It was very blustery with intermittent downpours and then birgh sun that would dry us off. It was incredible to pass all these miles of pristine coast without a single soul on them. Last night we satyed in an albergeu run by a priest who has walked many caminos and has created a nice refuge. We finally met some more trekkers (German, Spanish, Belgian, Austrian) -- not a snorer in the lot!

I am writing from Santander -- and running out of time on the clock, so no editing -- the last big town we will be in for at least 10 days. I am sure I will find internet along the way and I hope to have time to post some picutures. Feet are fine -- I love your notes and comments. Thanks!

Five days and five blisters

I´m writing from Gernika, the infamous town that Franco convinced Hitler to bomb (and decimate) and Picasso immortalized for every art history teacher to mispronounce. Here´s a quick rundown of the trip so far.

DAY 1 -- Irun to San Sebastian
Overcast, beautiful -- lots of up and down. Magnificent coastal views. Generally grey, windy weather but no rain and no mud. Two thirds of the way there we descended into the town of Pasajes San Juan and took a little ferry across the bay to link up to the trail again.

Arrived in San Sebastian about 5 o´clock and by the time we´d showered and washed up clothes at the pension (no albergue) in the old town, it had started raining. Adding that to exhaustion, decided to forego dinner in Spain´s gastronomic capital and made sandwiches in our room. (They were really good sandwiches.) Yes, there was wine too.

DAY 2 -- San Sebastian to Zarautz
This is a gorgeous town and I´d like to come back as a tourist one day. Walking along the beachfront we saw a bicycle race of at least 300 entrants zoom by. On the outskirts we found a little stand with water and cookies for pilgrims erected by a local who has walked the Camino 9 times along various routes-- and he spotted us and came out to offer lots of advice, all of which has proved very good. We continued to follow the coast without too many extreme changes in elevation and encountered our first rain and mud but nothing too bad. Views are very reminiscent of Ireland -- incredibly green. There are lots of sheep, goats, horses, donkeys and barking dogs.

Stayed in a lovely private albergue with hikers from Germany, France and Poland. Finally, some real hiking Poles.

DAY 3 -- Zarautz to Deba
Now we are talking serious elevation change. Much harder than before, a few muddy patches and an unfortunate amount of old cobbled path that is damp and slippery. Hiking poles ( the other kind) are a God send. It is still very beautiful. The descent into the coastal village of Deba is so steep that the government has installed an elevator, much appreciated. Signage for the Camino through the town and to the albergue was non existent. When we asked for directions, the first person didn´t know and she started asking others -- pretty soon we had a group of about 6 Basques taking us across the street to find a map and offer opinions. When we finally did find it, it was hardly worth the effort: two sets of triple bunks and two doubles, 2 mountain bikes, 5 guys, one small window and about 4 square feet of unoccupied floor space. I should have taken a picture. Laurie walked into the room (2 steps) as if to consider the options... after a moment I said "uh, I think we need to talk." She backed out (no room to turn around with a pack on) and we found a lovely pension. Rediscovered the restorative powers of beer and potato chips. There was a beautiful garden in Deba and I´m sharing this picture for my friends at the dog park. (I wish I knew how to rotate it -- I´m afraid you are gloing to have to tilt you your head to the left.)

DAY 4 -- Deba to Burkina Faso
I know that Burkina Faso is in Africa and today´s walk felt about that long. Actually, the destination was a place called Merkina Xemien (I think --- Basque is really odd) but in my head the African name stuck. We knew it was going to be a hard day with lots of elevation gain (600 meters) and loss (450 meters) but figured we´d have most of it out of the way by 12 or 1 with an easy 10K into town. It was beautiful with enough overcast to keep it comfortable. Met only one person along the way. Arrived in town about 4 and met up with the Canadian we´d met earlier. A monastery about 5k out of town had been recommended for their quaint guesthouse and generous meals -- and, on the maps, it appeared to be an easy stroll, mostly flat. NOT! It was a nasty 8k slog through green meadows that were actually mud and animal shit aplenty (the kind of mud that almost pulls your boots off and makes a lewd "thswuck" sound when you yank it out with about a kilo of clay stuck to it), mud and boulders uphill, cobbles and moss downhill. And the sun came out all golden and warm and what kind of a joke is that?? By this time it was after 6:00 and I was hungry and ready to go on strike, a very practical action. Fortunately Keith from Canadia busted out a Toblerone, the best chocolate I ever tasted. We made it to the monastery by 7:00, took a shower and were instantly revived. There were 11 people in the room. There may have been snorers but I put my earplugs to work and got 10 quality hours of blissful sleep.

DAY 5 -- Somewhere in Africa to Gernika
This was an easy 17k day. Started beautiful and sunny and stayed that way with a sweet fresh breeze. Ups and downs less intense and only a few serious patches of mud. We pass through many small villages (4-6 houses) and there is a great deal of construction everywhere. The health of the Spanish economy is evident. By day 7 we will be out of this mountain range and have more undulating coastal hills which sound wonderful. Gernika has a population of about 15,000 with very little historically significant buildings. People are generally very nice but I am reminded how the Spanish don´t go around smiling --- though they do stare freely. I, on the other hand, am like a golden retriever, smiling and wagging my tail and begging people to like me. Or give me a treat, like Kali. By the time we settle in, me feet are sore and when the boots come off there are a total of five blisters. Nothing terrible but they do hurt and since Day 6 is anopther rough one, I have decided to sit it out and will take the train to Bilbao and meet upwith Laurie on Day 7. (next post I make the pictures bigger -- it takes so long for the upload and this place reeks of cigarette smoke)

1. along the route 2. mud 3. uphill mud

greetings from Deva

Hola! Thanks for all the notes and pledges -- you´re wonderful. This is going to be a fast one since I am using a borrowed computer in the pension where we are staying. This is a charming little beaschside village and the weather has turned nice. One aspect that could have been easilypredicted, had I thought about it, is the coastal wind. If you´re in the sun it´s refreshing, if you are n teh shade, it´s freezing. So far the walking has been pretty challenging (a couple of blisters in the making, nothing too serioua) but incredibly beautiful -- very green like Ireland. When I get to the next big town I will find an Internet cafe where I can upload some photos and spend more time describing the path and the other pilgrims. So far no snorers! Tmorrow is a very long day with lots of elevation gain but the upside is an albergue in a monastery that is supposed to be incredible. Sorry ofr the typos :-) Miss you!

walking through spain.... yet again!

OK. Even I have trouble believing it.

But it's even harder to imagine not taking another one of these walks. This year it's an entirely new route -- the Camino del Norte -- that runs along the northern coast of Spain on the Bay of Biscay

• a tiny bit longer (~30 miles)
• more elevation changes
  
• fewer pilgrims competing for beds and snoring rights

The walk begins on May 4th in Irun (just across the border from France) and ends on June 13th in Santiago de Compostela. Once again I will be walking with my dear old friend Laurie, the uphill-racer maniac who got me doing these treks in the first place and keeps me laughing along the way.

I've debated back and forth about once again using this trip as an opporuntunity to raise funds for UNICEF. But yesterday I got the announcement that Kimberly-Clark is renewing their fund matching program for HIV-AIDS programs in Africa in 2007 and that did it. So here's the proposition:

• I will match your pledge, dollar for dollar
• Our combined donations will be matched by Kimberly-Clark
• Bottom line: Every $1 you donate becomes $4 for UNICEF!
• Plus... you get my scintillating posts (this time with PHOTOS even!) including commentary on culture, history, foot care, spirituality and the search for a quiet place to sleep.

To ensure the privacy of your pledge, please send me an email at schlepper2007@comcast.net indicating the amount you wish to pledge. Consider any formula you like: per mile (529), per kilometer (852), per day (39), per blister (0 to ??), per glass of wine (40 to ??) or a simple flat rate. When I return in June, I will contact you for payment.

I hope you'll join me on this journey. And I hope this new format will allow for greater communication and virtual participation.