Tag: camino

Now THAT Is A Pilgrimage

Lee Hausman

In an earlier post I inaccurately said that the Via Francigena pilgrimage starts in Canterbury. That was wrong; it actually starts in London. I was reminded of this one day when I was halfway to Chartham on a training walk, all decked out in my Camino gear, and I encountered a dozen people hiking to Canterbury, from London. They were a group of young Via Francigena Goodwill Ambassadors, mostly Italians, and they were delighted to meet a fellow pilgrim (even if I was heading in the opposite direction). We had a nice trailside chat and several of them had been on Caminos in Spain. Based on the videos two of them were taking, I’m pretty sure I now appear in someone’s Italian blog.

Here’s the brochure they gave me. You can see that this is a very long hike! In fact, it’s about 2,000 miles through four countries and takes three or four months. That’s a commitment. Someone else I talked to a few years ago who walked it said that it doesn’t really have the level of supportive infrastructure found on the Caminos in Spain and is quite difficult. Let’s not forget we’re talking about crossing The Alps, too. The ambassadors were very nice but I’m not inclined to do this one. How about you?

However, meeting them put my measly upcoming Camino into perspective. Now I’m raring to go.

I’m in Paris as I write this and I’ll be heading south in two days. I’m passing the time between coffee, croissants, and cafes by engaging in the time-honored, pre-hike practices: tweaking my gear and generally overthinking all my plans. Yes, everything fits in my pack. Yes, I have all the required documents. Yes, I’ll probably be able to carry it all even if I do include that Swiss Army knife. And, as I’ve reminded myself several times, they probably, almost certainly, sell whatever else I might need, in Spain. Sound familiar?

I’m lucky that the wildfires in southwestern France that temporary shut down the trains out of Paris have been tamed. And, at the risk of jinxing myself, the weather forecast for my first hiking day is very pleasant – sunny and dry. One can only hope. I look forward to my ride to Saint Jean Pied-de-Port because the train is full of pilgrims and there’s a festive and excited vibe. I confess I’m getting a little of that right now.

Thanks for coming along and carry on.

It’s Probably Best to Start with a Plan

Lee Hausman

Since you asked, planning for my Camino started last year and is fairly complicated. Let’s look at what’s involved.

One begins by deciding which Camino you’re going to walk. I’ve always walked the Camino Frances, one of the longest and hardest routes, but there are over a dozen recognized routes to Santiago from all over Spain, France, and Portugal. Naturally, the time of year when you plan to walk and the amount of time you have to do so are also factors. Many routes include optional side trips to nearby historic or scenic sites (which can add multiple kilometers/days of walking). Luckily, as a retiree, I’ve always had as much time as I’ve needed and I prefer to walk in September and October.

Once I know where I’m going and when, I create a plan that breaks the walk into manageable segments or stages, based on my personal preferences and fitness level. As you can see below, Excel spreadsheets are very useful for this.

Like many pilgrims on the Camino Frances route, I work with the Brierley Pilgrim’s Guide, the classic guidebook now in its 23rd edition. Its maps and other pages provide a wealth of information. I ask myself how far will I walk on any given day? Can I mix up short and long days? Can I take a day off periodically? This year’s walk averages around 18 kms (12 miles) per day, with a max of 24 kms. Before you pooh-pooh that mileage, consider that three mountain ranges are involved and there are many ascents and descents. For example, one day in 2024 I walked almost 40,000 steps.


I prefer to be very organized about all this; but many pilgrims are not; they take a far less structured approach, walking as far as they want/can on a daily basis and getting lodging wherever they can when they arrive at a stopping point. This gives them a lot of flexibility but no security – they may arrive in a town to find all the beds/bunks are taken and they must continue on to the next town to (hopefully) find a bed. The weather can also be a factor when winging it. Still, the capriciousness and freedom of it all are part of the lure of the Camino for many (and was for me, the first time).

Camino lodging choices range from hostels (bunk rooms) to B&Bs and hotels (private rooms). Some folks mix it up, getting the occasional private room to take a break from the bunk rooms. I’ve tried them all over the years and now stay in private rooms. Reserving private rooms is an organizing extravaganza involving online bookings, and emails and phone calls in Spanish (which I speak, luckily).

Once all that is in hand, I turn to the Brierley Guide and markup its stages to show my route, as shown in the example from 2024 above.

I keep notes year-to-year, so I know where there are good cafes and food trucks, where the necessary pit stops are, and which are the tough sections. I also break each long day into 3-4 parts, so that I can take rest breaks and possibly change socks. Once again, all this planning assumes lovely weather but can be (and often is) disrupted by storms, heat, torrential rain, wildfires, etc. (just the usual Camino events). One downside of my strict planning means I have to get to my destination each day to use my reservation.

And so it goes, in just two weeks from tomorrow we’ll see how well my planning serves me. Thanks for coming along!

Cheers!

Coda: Camino Finito

Lee Hausman

I’m writing this final installment of my 2024 Camino posts from Paris, after getting over my parting gift from Santiago: a bout of food poisoning. Ooh la la.

Rain and fog along The Way

The end of this Camino was much like its beginning: foggy, rainy, and cold, with low visibility, so the line of pilgrims along the way sported ponchos and other rain gear. However, when we reached Mount Gozo and the outskirts of Santiago were in sight, no one cared about the weather. We made it!

But, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. My last post left off in Ponferrada, where I stayed in a wonderful albergue with great services. Subsequent days took me to Cacabelos, Trabadelo, Las Herrerias, O Cebreriro (a dreadful climb and weather),

Triacastela, Sarria, Portomarin, Airexe, Melide, Arzua, and O Pedrouzo. My lodgings were generally good, but sometimes not that great.

After O Cebreriro, it’s not quite all downhill but it seems that way and once you reach Sarria, where all the tour groups jump in to get the minimum kilometers required for a compostela, momentum and excitement help propel you forward toward the finish.

Each time I met Americans on this hike, and there were many, I carefully brought up the upcoming U.S. elections. I don’t often get to talk to people I don’t already know, from across the U.S., these days so I wanted to do so here and to listen to their views. As it turned out, almost all of them had the same political feelings that I have. I guess going on the Camino may reflect a certain world-view, so sharing those feelings is not that surprising. It was nice, though, to find that Americans from states like Louisiana, Texas, Idaho, and Montana are nicer, more thoughtful, and more progressive than their media stereotypes often suggest.

Camino-inspired wine in Cacabelos
Custom group Camino patches
Rainy morning is Las Herrerias
Caldo Gallego – yum!
Canine cafe welcome committee
Cows on the Camino near Airexe
Camino chic: hiking kilt
A cleaning company; not a commentary on the European economy
Yours truly, at the Santiago Cathedral

It continued to rain throughout the weekend after my arrival in Santiago. My New French Wife, Marti, flew in and joined me a few hours after I arrived. We enjoyed our reunion and in the following days dashed around through the rain to various good restaurants for some excellent Galician meals. We went to the official Pilgrim office and I collected my Compostela certificate, a process that is all automated now, somewhat impersonal, and without the hand-lettering of your name and details. It looks like this:

The rain continued to come down throughout our stay in Santiago and it really was pretty miserable at times. What I would have given for some sunshine! Our flight back to Paris went smoothly and now I’m sorting through my gear and decompressing.

As reported earlier, my poor feet took a beating and I’ll probably lose a toenail, but they’re slowly recovering. I’m happy to have survived the physical and mental challenges once again, and I’m enjoying the post-Camino downtime. As before, it’s a bit of a shock shifting gears from speaking Spanish to speaking French.

Looking back over the last seven weeks, I’m a little sorry that the Camino seems a bit too touristy now. At times it seemed that there were just too many pilgrims, and many who saw it as a lark, in my opinion, so some of the specialness of it has gone. Maybe that’s a symptom of a post-pandemic, pent-up demand resulting in generally high tourism levels everywhere, or maybe it’s just the consequence of walking the Camino for a third time. At the moment, I don’t even want to think about doing it again, but I know that in six months or so the rose-color hindsight will take effect and I’ll start imagining my return. We’ll see.

Once again, thanks for coming along on my journey and for your encouragement. Cheers.