Category: Spain

Camino Danger

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When I tell people about my hike on the El Camino de Santiago, many people think I’m nuts to walk across a country following arrows, alone, especially being a woman. Yes, nuts is a good way to describe the Camino. But the second reaction is usually one of worry, followed by a, “Isn’t that dangerous?” And again the answer is, yes.

People have died, usually in the mountains after unpredictable weather. It is rare, but it happens. Many get injured after overusing their bodies outside normal activities. Most get epic blisters. On my last Camino, I experienced light degrees of all of the above.

However, this Camino has presented a new set of dangers, most of which involve self destruction and nothing to do with the actual Camino.

Danger #1: Bunk beds. Yup, I very gracefully ate it while descending a top bunk before I even started the Camino. It took a couple days for the bruise to reach its current glory. Then on the first day of walking, my foot hurt a bit from the unsuccessful dismount. Fortunately, that has gone away. I’ve also been lucky enough to get bottom bunks the last few days. However, I have managed to hit my head Every. Single. Day.

Danger #2: Hiking poles. Yesterday, I thought I was being cool with my hiking poles and pretty much tripped over them, almost landing on my face. Thank God, no one was around. Can you imagine the story if I’d hurt or broken something? Bonus danger: be careful when sitting down with extended poles in your hand. You’re libel to bop your head like I have (several times).

Danger #3: Hot Water. I prayed there would be hot water as I stepped in the shower. I turned it on, draped the head over my right shoulder (ugh, European showers) so the water hit my chest. It was warm. Then someone flushed the toilet. It took 1/2 second for it to turn scalding, nearly burning the flesh off my chest. I’m still surprised I don’t have a blister.

And if that wasn’t enough, here are a couple Homer Simpson moments:

Doh #1: For hours I’d been trying to a shower, but there was only one for 30 of us. So, I grabbed my stuff and decided to sit next to the door. I tried the door, knocked, no one answered, but I thought I heard some rustling. After 15 minutes, I knocked and tried the door again. It opened and no one was there. Doh! I told this story to a guy from South Africa who laughed hysterically and promised to remember this story always. :/

Doh #2: I have excellent equipment this time around. Today was the first rainy day, and I simply pulled out my backpack rain cover only to have my Camelbak spring a leak and soak my clean, dry, change of clothes. Doh!

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my mishaps.

Sincerely,
The Camino Klutz

The Road Less Travelled 

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My few days in Switzerland were absolutely fabulous. They were comprised of dinner at a fromagerie, with, my friend Julia, who I met in China and traveled to with to Bali. Saturday cheese fondue in Gruyere and then Lausanne for a walk around the lake. Sunday was my birthday and we spent the day walking through vineyards along Lake Geneva and dinner in Montereaux. Monday, I woke to a beautiful blue sky and was finally able to see Mont Blanc from my bedroom. Just in the knick of time since my flight to Madrid left at noon.

A surreal day on Lake Geneva

I arrived in Madrid to a perfect Spainish atmosphere – warm with a beautiful blue sky and the faint scent of cigarettes. My plan was to prepare for the Camino by mailing my suitcase ahead and buying some provisions. However, it was a holiday in Spain and nothing was open, so I walked around the city for a few hours and turned in early so I could leave bright and early for the train to Leon.

High and sight, I should’ve done a little planning and less sightseeing in Madrid, because when I got off the train, I had not a clue what to do and where to go. I needed to mail my bag, get some groceries and find a place to stay. Had I planned, these things would not have taken me several hours. But, once I completed them, I grabbed dinner, visited the city a little and went to the pilgrims mass, not that I understood anything. My spainish is non-existent thanks to the last four years of french. However, there was a sweet older man, who was so excited I was there. He walked me and a few other pilgrims around the cathedral, blabbering away in spainish that none of us understood. In the end he shook our hands and wished us all a “Buen Camino”.

The first night in the pilgrim albergue was not very good. I got the last bed in a room, which meant I was on the top bunk. I almost walked into the room and said, “Can we agree that if you’ve had more than two abdominal surgeries in two years, you deserve a bottom bunk?” And if anyone has me beat, I’d lay down my cancer card. But, the Camino doesn’t work like that. Then, I had a hard time falling asleep. This was mostly due to excitement, but it was also hot and the others in my room where going to the bathroom every five minutes. Then, most of the room was awake at 6 am, rustling their plastic bags and packing up to get out the door. So, after five hours of poor, restless sleep, I conceded and headed out as the sun was rising.

I’m glad I did, because it was quite poetic to see the sun waking up behind the cathedral and gracing the old monuments with a perfect light.

Sunrise behind the Leon cathedral


Getting out of the city area was typically ugly and I opted to take a longer,
alternative, more scenic view. It was at the fork that I made my first Camino Amiga, Margie from San Francisco, who broke away from the two friends she came with for the road less traveled, rather than that which was fastest. We talked and walked for hours and at lunch time, we easily threw together a picnic with the items each of us had. Canned chicken, cheese, nuts, fruit and chocolate. Not too bad of a meal for being on the side of a rural road, in the middle of nowhere Spain.

Eventually, we arrived in a little village of Villar de Mazarife. The first house in the village was an adorable albergue promoting a (rare) vegetarian menu. Bed, dinner, hot shower, wifi and breakfast for 21€. Done. Margie opted for the more expensive private hotel, since she pretty much had it with snorers and early risers.

The wonderful albergue in Villar de Mazarife

I settled into my bottom bunk (three cheers) next to, of course, a couple French guys (Man, I just can’t escape them). After an amazing dinner of salad, pumpkin soup, veggie paella and a crepe, I tucked myself in for a solid seven hours of sleep.

Story of my life… (:

The Camino: Hopes and Fears of a Cancer Survivor

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As featured on curetoday.com



“May your choices reflect your hopes and dreams, not your fears.” -Nelson Mandela
I’ve found that I must be very intentional to not let fear paralyze my life. When it does creep in, I quickly switch to my gratitude list, taking one moment at a time and reminding myself of Mandela’s quote.

In 2012, I completed half of the El Camino de Santiago (or simply, “the Camino”), a 500-mile path across the northern part of Spain that people (called pilgrims) have been walking for over a thousand years. Camino means “path” in Spanish, and there are several of them throughout Europe that all end at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, only a few miles shy of the Atlantic coast, which was once thought to be the end of the world. The origins of the walk are religious, but people do it nowadays for all kinds of reasons and purposes. I have been blessed to have done a fair amount of traveling in my life, but the Camino is one of my most treasured chapters. For years, I have been wanting to go back to finish the pilgrimage, but there was always a reason to put it off until next year, when the circumstances would seem right. But when next year isn’t guaranteed, your entire thought process changes.

Last summer, I made some new friends who were getting ready to go to Spain to walk the El Camino de Santiago. Being around them as they contemplated equipment, logistics and the physicality of walking 10 to 20 miles a day was a bittersweet emotion. I could not bare the thought of never finishing the journey I began, and I swore to myself that as soon as I was healthy again, I would complete the Camino. So after finishing chemo and recovering from my second abdominal surgery, I put it on the calendar. I began buying equipment and telling people about my trip, but still part of me was holding back. I knew it was a risk, but I scheduled my departure one week after a check-up and results appointment. I did this because I wanted to go with my doctor’s blessing and to be told I was was good for another three months.

However, like many cancer survivors, I’ve developed a bit of a doomsday syndrome. I bought all my stuff from REI, but left the tags on. Fear. I bought travel insurance so I’d be reimbursed when I was told I shouldn’t go. Fear. I wrote this post and held it back until I got the all clear from my doctor. Fear.

All of those acts of fear were completely useless because my scans were clear. As I complete my final draft of this article, I’m excited to be sitting on a flight to Paris. I’ll be spending three weeks making my way through France and Switzerland visiting family and friends who I haven’t seen in over two years due to not being able to travel while I was sick. Then on May 16th, I’ll head to Spain where I’ll spend the next three weeks literally walking across a country, landing in Santiago de Compostela somewhere around June 2.

Cheers to living out hopes and dreams!

To read all of my articles with Cure, click here.