Wednesday, July 14, 2021
Phoenix:
My son took me to the airport at 7:15 am for a
10:35 am flight. I like to be in the
airport just in case things go awry. Carrying
my backpack, I go through the PreCheck line, send it all through the scanner,
and wait. My bag gets pulled out so the TSA
agent can go through it. First, he pulls
out a wine bottle opener that has crossed TSA oversite many times in the past. "Can't
have that." Then he tells me I cannot have my walking stick in the bag. O.K. screw this. I tell him I will check the
bag. He has to escort me to the door so I don't make a run for the plane with
my contraband.
Back downstairs to the counter very quickly, my
bag is checked and on the way to Madrid.
Back upstairs, and the same TSA agent that checked my ticket and
passport is still there. He asks what
happened? I tell him about the walking stick,
and he says, "I tell you a secret. Don't pack the walking stick instead, use
it as if you need it, and we can't take it away from you." Does it make sense?
You can not have it in your bag, but you can waltz onto the plane stick in
hand. I thank him for the information, whiz
through the checkpoint, and off to the gate.
I should throw in a plug here for Delta Airlines,
which is who I am flying. I usually take
American Airlines however they are canceling flights left and right. In the past, I have used American a few times
to get to Europe. Twice they left me stranded because the plane was late.
Another time we had already on board and were seated, and we had to get off the
plane. So nope, I'll take Delta, which had a great sale price this year, so I
purchased my tickets. Of course, if you ignore
the small print, there is a rub, like a 53-minutes to change planes at
JFK! I keep telling myself, "Myself,
we can do this." The aircraft is supposed to leave at 10:35 am, and we don't
pull away from the gate until 11:00 am. So there goes my turnaround time. I don't
get upset; I'll hope we make up the time in the air.
I paid a bit more for extra legroom on all my flights
from Phoenix to Madrid and back. On the
flight from Phoenix to JKF, I have, an aisle seat with the only thing between
me and the door was four rows. Wow! I got this all planned out, nothing to grab
but my hat and computer pouch, and I'm out the door. When the wheels touch down, my plan is to
move the computer satchel to my lap and put my hat on my head. I'll sneakily
undo my safety belt, so as soon as the plane comes to a stop, I'll drop the
belt, pop up out of the seat and scoot down the aisle. O.K I got this.
We are going to have an early landing at JFK, so I
now have 60 minutes between planes which by the time we land is cut to
50-minutes. Bam, the plane stops at the
gate, the seat belt light goes off, and I'm down the aisle like a bat out of hell,
only to be stopped dead because the door will not open. Another 5 minutes are wasted as they fiddle
with the door. Then, woosh, it's open, and I'm the first one out of the plane,
for the very first time ever, and am speed walking down the concourse with no
idea how far I am from the next gate.
Reaching the gate with only 15 minutes to spare, I
wind through the crowds of people waiting in line because I have PRIORITY
BOARDING!! Slap my ticket on the reader,
and I'm home free!!!! As I Settle into
my extra legroom seat, I'm feeling quite proud of myself. I silently thank the TSA agent for causing me
to check my backpack. The plane leaves
the gate on time, and I'm off to Madrid!
After dinner and one movie, it is sleep time looking forward to waking up
in Madrid.
Thursday, July 15, 2021
Madrid – Santiago de Compostela
After 13 hours in the air, we touch down in Madrid,
and I have one more hurdle to get through.
I have one hour change time between my Delta flight and an Iberian
Flight I booked to Santiago de Compostela.
If you can help it, do not fly Iberian Airlines, but that is another
story. Madrid or Spain decided that the
terminal I needed to get to is nowhere near the main three terminals and one has
to take a bus to get there. Customs was
a breeze, my bag is, thankfully, on the carousel, and I'm off to find the magic
bus to take me to terminal four.
Bam, drop the mike I'm at the Iberian gate with 20
minutes to spare. We board the plane, ready for a one-hour flight to Santiago
de Compostela. Nope! The plane sits at the gate for 55
minutes. I have been on one plane or
another for almost 20 hours. Now have to figure out how to get home—just a tiny
detail.
I arrived in Santiago de Compostela at 2 pm and
jumped on the bus from the airport to town.
I glance out the window just as the bus is coming to one of its
stops. Low and behold, I recognize the
restaurant down the street from the Albergue I will be staying at, so I jump
off the bus, which will save me having to walk back from the bus station. Time
for dinner at the same restaurant Lisa and I enjoyed twelve years ago (another
story). Then, after a visit to the supermarket, it is time for a shower and
sleep.
Friday, July 16, 2021
Santiago de Compostela - Muxia
After a breakfast of toast, coffee, and fresh-squeezed
orange juice, I am on the bus back to the airport. It did not occur to me that I might need a
covid test to return to Madrid. There is no one at the information counter in
the airport, but there is an attendant at the Iberia counter, who is annoyed I
asked him a question. He indicates that
I will need one or so, it seems at this point but not sure. I will return to Santiago a day early to make
sure one way or the other.
I begin my walk to Muxia at 10:00 am. Little later than I wanted to, but what the
heck lets get the show on the road. It
is much hotter than I expected for sure.
Going to be 91 degrees today, and it seems like most of the week. As I begin to walk, there are memories of
some places and not of others. I am
heading to a town called Negreira, which is 13 miles from Santiago. I am carrying my mochila(backpack), weighing
in at 30 lbs. My backpack is a Deuter 40
+ 10 that I have not used to travel before.
I keep thinking, why is thing so heavy? What can I dump to lighten the
load? Nope, I can't think of a thing.
I stop several times to rest as I am needing to
get my walking legs and breathing working.
A couple of times, I fall asleep on with the mochila as my pillow. I rest at a bus stop that has no busses. There is cold drinking water here, and I
remember stopping on a walk some years ago. It was from this bus stop that I
called a cab to get me. No cab this time,
I keep walking. As I am walking, a woman
from Madrid catches up to me. We talk a
bit about the heat, and she is off down the road. It is reaching 6 pm, and I am
running out of gas. I come upon a bar where
I stop for a Cerveza, rest, and ask the owner to call me a cab as I am done
in. As I get my Pilgrim Passport
stamped, I knock over a glass and break it as I pick it up and cut my
finger.
The owner is extremely excited now and gives me a
new mask. I'm guessing he did not like mine, along with a Band-Aid for my
finger. I go outside to drink my Cerveza
and await my cab. As I finish my Cerveza, the owner comes out and says, "we
go, no cab for an hour." He puts me in his car, and off we go, but first,
he does a selfie of us to send to his wife before we leave. One has to wonder
why? He chats in Spanish while speeding down the road. It is incredible that we actually have a
conversation with my broken Spanish and his non-English. Then, suddenly, he
stops the car and motions for me to follow him into a bar.
Jose, his Nombre I have found out, tells me to
sit. After a bit, he comes out with a Cerveza
and some tapes. I have learned he is
married, and his wife's name is Lili, has a small daughter, and has been
married seven years. He talks to other
people at the bar, and they ask where I am from. We have a laugh about my leaving my horse
home. Then, we are off again, and he continues to chat away as if I understand
everything he is saying; not! Soon we
reach an Albergue Alto da Pena in A Pena, and he goes in with me to make sure I'm
in the correct place. I secure a bed and am set for the night.
He has driven me about 8 miles from his home. I
offer him 20.00 euro for his trouble, but he refuses. So we hug goodbye like
old friends, and he is off. I have a four-bed room all to myself. It is now 10:00 pm, and after a bit of Ensalada
dinner with white wine, it is time for rest. Before bed, I had a friendly chat
with the owner, who also owns an Albergue in Santiago, which I may stay at. I am up most of the night fighting mosquitoes
who constantly dived bombed me. Must
have killed at least six of them during the night. The owner may not be happy
to find squashed mosquitoes on the wall.
Saturday, July 17, 2021
A Pena - Olverioa
The second day of walking. After a lite breakfast of toast, coffee, and Zumo
de Naranja, it is off for another day of walking only without my backpack. There
is this nifty service that will take your backpack to the next Albergue. I am always hesitant to use this as I never
know if I will make the next stop. However, I have a day pack that will hold a
few things that I walk with. Also, I am running out of euros, so I need to find
a banco soon. If all goes well, the next
stop will be Olveiroa which is 20 miles down the road. It is another hot day with the sun beating
down. I am on the road to 8:00 am today
and keep telling myself I need to be off by 6 am from now on.
I find it interesting the places I have found to
sleep along the way—a patch of shade over a stone wall or just a patch of grass
in the shade. I carry water with me, and
some energy bars as places to eat and drink are few and far between. After nine miles, it is time to stop for a lunch
break. There are two women that I keep
running into, kind of hopscotching down the road. I find them time and again
sitting in streams that cross path, or they find me sleeping. Finally, we meet
in Santa Maria where they will spend the night.
I have walked 13 miles, and it is time for a cab to pick me up for the
last 7 miles to Olveiroa. So I cheat
beats heat stroke.
I stay at the Albergue Horreo with many other
Pilgrims. I run into a couple from yesterday's stop—Erik from Hawaii and Kat
from Germany. It seems that they do a lot of traveling together.
Sunday, July 18, 2021
The third day of walking: Olveiroa to Muxia.
Again no 6 am start for me. So after breakfast,
you guested it toast, coffee, and orange juice down the road I go. It is to be 91
degrees again today, which takes a toll on you. The heat is in the later part
of the day, so if you were to stop and wait for it to get cooler, it would be 9
pm. That does not work as soon you would
be walking in the dark. Walking past
several places that I recognize from a prior walk on this route. When I reach
Dumbria, I stop at the only and bustling restaurant. I have a fantastic salad made from potatoes.
Tuna and other stuff I could no identify. I ask the waiter if a bus comes to
town, not on Sunday.
I head down the road with the sun on my back with
no other pilgrims in sight. Finally, after 17 Km of walking, I stop in a bar to
cool down. There are only three people
at this bar, all of whom seem local. The
owner had to keep what I'm guessing to be his mother and father from fighting. The old man seems to be in the throes of
dementia. He wanders around moving things into different places, mumbling
something it seems only he understands. Finally, I ask the owner to call me a
cab and order a beer.
He makes the call, and no sooner do I sit down to
drink it than the cab pulls up. I shrug my shoulders and put the beer on the
counter. He motions not to worry and
tells me to sit and drink. The owner
goes over to the cab driver for a quick chat, after which the driver comes into
the bar, and they all have a chat away while I drink my beer. After finishing my beer, it's off to Muxia,
only a few kilometers down the road. I'm out of energy and unwilling to push
myself.
I arrive at Albergue @ Muxia, pay the cab driver,
and check-in. The fellow behind the
counter looks at me and seems to recognize me from the past. I will be staying here for three days which
was pretty much the purpose of this trip; to hang out in Muxia. I have my choice of beds as we wander the
Albergue. My backpack has arrived ahead
of me, and he has put it next to a nice bed.
However, after some time, we head down into the "basement,"
where I'll spend my time sleeping. There are six beds in this part of the
basement. A few steps down, there is a
large room with curtained off "rooms," each with a bunk bed in
it. I am guessing that due to Covid,
they created more space so the Albergue could still hold the same number of
Pilgrims. But today, I'm counting nine
of us in an Albergue that can hold probably 30?
I begin talking to a young woman, Jasmine, from
Belgium, traveling the Camino on her own. She will stay a few more days then
head to Finisterre. So I head out for dinner and some wine. Again it is too late for a big "Meal of
the Day," so it's a salad for me. Almost all salad's come with tomatoes,
lettuce, tuna fish, and vinegar and oil. After my dinner, it is time for a short walk
about town. Since it is Sunday evening,
things are pretty busy. Restaurants are
full, and there is a merry-go-round doing a booming business, lots of talking
and laughing. Children are running about yelling, jumping, and having a grand
time while parents enjoy good company and wine.
Monday, July 19, 2021
Happy Birthday to me!
Before breakfast, I talk with Jasmin about her
plans and mine. She will be leaving
Spain back to school on the 29th also. After returning from my walk-about, I met Ewa,
who had just checked in with her bike. She had ridden from Pamplona and was
riding Spain alone. The three of us talked for some time about riding bikes and
traveling Europe. I then when down to the corner café for breakfast. Yep, toast, coffee, and orange juice. My walk
took me along the Costa da Morte where we find Santuario da Virxe da Barca
standing on the edge of the sea.
This is a fantastic place to sit and meditate. The
ocean slams into the rocks time and time again—liquid throwing itself at the
rocks time and time again. In time the liquid will remain, and the rocks will
disappear into memory until memory disappears also. As I climb to the top of Mount
Carpino, I notice a woman removing stones from the top of a Camion
waymarker. I become angry at this sacrilege
as these stones meant something to Pilgrims who placed them there. She carelessly
tossed them aside so she could take a picture of the waymarker. Pilgrims like to plie rocks at different sites
and on things, and It has meaning to each Pilgrim. http://www.pilgrimroads.com/2011/04/stones-on-the-camino-a-photo-essay/
is a nice essay on stones, us, and Pilgrims.
On the way back to the Albergue, I stop to buy
myself a birthday dinner. There are several restaurants in a row, so I pick on
for no reason other than the name Street Food. I chose the Meal of the Day,
which the waiter indicated there were not many selections left. That should
have been a walk-up call, but I ordered. Unfortunately, the Tostada was dry and
tasteless, the fish with potatoes was eatable, but only just, the wine was
bitter, and the service was less the spectacular. So I sang Happy Birthday to
myself and went on with my day. After
more wandering the city, I when back to the Albergue and was given a new bed.
The bed was next to the woman who had come in
earlier with the bicycle. Ewa and I talked
about her bike and mine, where she was going after this, and her lot in life.
She talked of being disenchanted with the several positions she had left and
her degree in Psychology which she had not ever used. We talked of her fear of what the future held
for her and how she would end up. The more we talked, the more I hoped we would
have many more conversations. She and Jasmine when off for dinner and to
explore the town while I turned in for the night.
Tuesday, July 20, 2021
Breakfast at the corner café. Same breakfast, same
café, only this time I didn’t have to order. The owner comes out and recites my
order, then tells me to go sit.
Today I learned that my cousin Frank Zotter Jr has
passed away. This news saddens me immensely
as he was kind of a hero of mine growing up.
My cousin Frank a.k.a Sunny was ten years older than I. I first met him
when his family lived in Allentown, Pennsylvania. His dad was my grandfather's
brother. He had Corvettes from the time they came out until he switched to
Pontiac GTOs. The switch was somewhat
shrouded in mystery, but the story was his girlfriend was killed in one, and he
never purchased another. It seemed he
had a new GTO every year, which was probably just a story I made up.
He and another cousin, Ronny, were great friends
with my Mom and Dad. They were always having a great time together. But, then,
as sometimes happens, people move, and the good times become memories. However,
Sonny was always intertwined with me as his sister married my former wife's
brother. His younger brother and I were
close friends during our teen years and have renewed that friendship in the
past few years.
I roam the town with a heavy heart as I would be
unable to attend the memorial. As I was
walking the rocks in a different part of town, I had a rather weird
experience. I am very careful as to
where I put my feet and buy sandals that are supposed to have a lot of
gription. I put my foot down, and slowly it slid out from under me. I had my
right hand in my pocket and thought as I fell that I should pull it out but did
not. I seemed to leave my body and watch myself fall in slow motion. I remember
thinking there is nothing to hit my head on, so I'd be O.K. I landed on my right side with my hand trapped
beneath me, so I thought to myself, I better roll over so I can use my left
hand to push myself up and at the same time free my right hand.
As I climb to my feet, grabbing my hat in the
process, I become aware of people yelling from the sea wall. I look up as see several people wanting to
know if I am O.K.? I wave to them and
give them a thumbs up to indicate all is well.
I am pissed at my shoes for slipping and intend to find ones with more
gription. It comes to mind that maybe I
was not paying as close attention as I should have. I purposely stay away from
edges as my balance seems to have been reduced by what I’m unsure of.
Wednesday, July 21, 2021
Last day in Muxia, I will attempt to walk to
Finisterre, which is again 20 miles away.
It has been overcast since arriving here. My friend Gary and I talk a lot about how having
expectations can ruin a trip. I bring this up because, along the way, my mind
has shown me pictures of the last time I was here. Lovely sunny days with cool
breezes leading to thoughts of me sitting in the sun enjoying a glass of
wine. So I have had the wine but not the
sun which was great. It was a relatively
uneventful day other than Jasmin and Ewa leaving for Finisterre. We talk about maybe seeing each other again
in Finisterre or Santiago.
Thursday, July 22, 2021
I had a final breakfast in Muxia, the same café,
and again didn’t have to order they just brought it out.
I popped over to the bus stop to head to
Finisterre. Oh, yeah, I decided not to
walk and have more time in Finisterre. Helps
to read the freaking directions. When
the bus shows up, the driver says "no" to going to Finisterre. I look at the timetable again and get it that
the 10:30 am bus does not go to Finisterre. The next bus to Finisterre is at
12:45 pm. So I settle in to wait. The next bus pulls up and is not going to
Finisterre but to Cee (pronounce SAY).
Fellow traveler and bus driver chat for a bit. Finally, the fellow who was talking to the driver
says to you can go to Cee and pick up the Finisterre bus there. O.K., what the hell for a euro and a half I'm
in.
We arrive in Cee, and I look around for landmarks
I might recognize, which equal none. Looking at the timetable for busses, I see
I have saved a whopping 15 minutes by taking the bus to Cee then on to
Finistere. Finally, the bus comes in,
and I am off to Finisterre. I arrive
in Finisterre around noon, which gives me time to have lunch before checking
into Albergue.
