Walking The Way My Way

                  

Day 4 Ligonde to Leboreiro (past Casanova)
Charlemagne stayed in Logonde, they say

One challenge from John Brierly in his "A Pilgrim's Guide the to the Camino Francės" asks the pilgrim to seek, not "the stone altar of the tourist, but an altered state." What did I find? Plastic flowers! After passing  through a few fields a wonderful caramel cow led us down through his farm. In a small village  we stopped to take photos of the thousands of plastic flowers eternally decorating the graves in  the church's cemetery and at the same time cheering up the earthen buildings and dirt. At least, that is what I did. When I turned around to head back on the path, I was alone.  For the first time, I was alone on the camino.

Plastic flowers distract me

The Church of Santa Maria

My steps became longer and my pace faster, as I hurried to catch the other Americans. Ten minutes later, the calm around me invited me to "enjoy what you find." The walk became personal. The walk was serene. My eyes wide open, I soaked in the countryside. Pilgrims passed me with both poles swinging, many alone, many chatting with others. I stayed my course.

Feet hurt? Grab at taxi

Me the tourist slept soundly every night in firm, clean beds and ate three meals a day in quaint inns or restaurants. The pilgrims suffer long days and nights. Lumpy beds and erratic meals and hunts for water can be common occurrences. My feet were blister free and my socks, etc. clean. The pilgrims slog up hills and might encounter mucky trails. blistering heat or downpours. And walk for many weeks. My skies were blue , except in the cloud, and the paths were dryLuckily, taxi rescue is a phone call away for those who are momentarily worn out.. Shirley MacLaine was known to take a bus now and then. Not to mention fleeing from the paparazzis by car. 

I walked in a relaxed manner and thanked Joyce Rupp for her advice. The flat dirt paths were soft beneath my feet and a stillness fell from the skies and trees to settle deep in my stomach. I felt very much in the present, but always hoping for a coffee along the way. But everything was shut up tight. At  the Maso Castaneda alburgue I stopped on the front porch to rest. A young German woman spoke English and we chatted. She was walking the whole camino but staying in hotels, not alburgues. Her comment was she needed to be alone. I did not pry. She did not share more. I continued the walk in a state of suspended contentment.

Sunny skies leaked through the canopy of trees

The young German woman

We met again on the path. Nice person that she was, she still made road kill of me. What a smile, though. I wished her godspeed.  Her "aura" exuded strength and expectation. Whatever fulfillment she expected it was her spirit that carried her forward on the camino. If there was a spirit guiding me it was a spirit  of the present. The moment itself brought pleasure.

Tom (Martin Sheen) in "The Way"

The character Tom (Martin Sheen) in the movie "The Way" pushes forward with a deliberate speed of purpose across hills and the flat land. His no nonsense and leave-me-alone attitude contrasts with the comraderie  of his fellow walkers.  Does he suffer grief or anger or frustration at the loss of his son?  Does the journey transform him?  Will he "choose a life or live a life"? I wonder about my choices.






For now, my happy-go-lucky walking breeds a degree of "nowness" that settle deep inside me. It suits me today. I have found my pace and my legs feel strong. As the path rises ahead of me, I stride without huffing and puffing knowing I have passed Casanove and have about a mile to go until I reach the lunch destination. Surprise. I see a blue shirt wave to me from the top of the hill. I  had arrived and, of course, was the last to one to reach the restaurant.

Tom (Martin Sheen) ate  here and so did I

Even so, with the morning walk over, time slowed and we gathered for drinks from the bar at Casa de los Somoza. After comparing notes, I discovered that others had stopped for a passport stamp while plastic flowers amused and distracted me from the passport stamp quest. 

Nary a real chicken in sight

Not only was our dining room cozy with farmhouse charm, we had one of our best lunches ever.   Hunger took over and I enjoyed the wonderful fish and vegetable meal. Conversation buzzed around the table. As I sat at the table amidst the buzz, I felt a spirit hovering over me. I am certain that spirit was "Tom", as I heard he was filmed sitting in this very spot.

British gals travel with Royalty

The princes travel blisterless 

The afternoon plans offered options. Instead of choosing the five mile afternoon walk, I accepted a ride heading directly to the farmhouse. I luxuriated in thoughts of loafing, reading, possibly washing out some dirty socks and stuff.  I was not the only one to choose the laid back life and a chance to lounge in the sun.  

The guys plus one confer

The land flattened out somewhat as we headed toward Castaneda/Sedor. We passed farms scattered across the rolling landscape. We followed the windmills high on the hills near us as we draw closer to Santiago. As our van drove up the driveway to our inn a few cows placidly looked our way, but seemed umoved by our presence. Clearly, this was a working farm.  

Up close and personal with cows

Our wanderer among fields and gardens before supper

Sunny skies invited many of us outside for drinks, wandering, reading and lazing around. Inside, a refrigerator held various drinks for sale. My thirst begged to be quenched and only coke lite would do.  

The flowers that bloom in July tra-la

This farm was under reconstruction and a great deal of refreshed the inn inside and outside. The civilized plantings contrasted with the wild woods and ferns of the trails. Warm weather enticed guests to meander among the gardens. Collards and other vegetables were thriving in patches away from the main inn.

Hydrangeas thrive

Leaving California in June and July  this year meant I would miss the peak wildflower season. Te sudden explosion of flowers greeting me on these paths and farms eased that pain. I opened my senses to the sights and smells.                        
  

Another pool I did not swim in

What a perfect afternoon to read, relax and catch a few rays before supper. While his wife read a magazine, one person in our group was chuckling while reading the book "Aburdistan". Before the walk ended, however, he threw the book down in disgust. Beware what you haul from home in your suitcase.

My room was decorated with country prints and old-fashioned  furniture. My French doors thrown wide open to a small balcony overlooked the out-buildings and the countryside. I watched workman  continue repairs to improve and beautify the inn.     

French doors, a balcony, a view....luxury

In the morning as we brought down our bags. I took a last look at the pilgrim garb hanging  in the entry.  I had not tried them on, but others  playfully donned them and strutted around while pictures were taken.  But, I told myself, "I am not a pilgrim.

Once the bags found their place in the vans, we set off for the drop-off points for our daily walk.