El Camino sigue...(The walk continues..)

Here are some more photos before my journaling continued. In between with the cold and the machine-routine. The longest worm I can remember seeing with my hiking boots surrounding it (foot pic), a shell of the camino on a church before the Alto del Perdón; Alisa and I at Puente la Reina; Ko, the Korean, putting spicy Korean paste on his olives. It was delicious, but I like olives just plain as well. Some fun memories from the way.

Day 2-3, El Camino de Santiago

28th March (Larrasoana-Pamplona)
We have had lovely weather so far; my face has a sunburn I think. We have been walking pretty intensely; I think for me I need to slow down because I feel like it is going too fast. I don’t think that is what is going on in my life, sometimes I just rush in the moment. Tomorrow will be a day of more walking. I would like to get to Puente las Reinas, as it is recommended but I will read the guide book and then make a decision.
I have met some really lovely people; Frances from Wales, Alissa from Cali and I have been sharing a lot of the walk. We have bumped into Mark, from Australia and Ko from Korea and Luca from Italy for the last few days. Well, I guess today was only our third day, but it feels a little unusual now. I do have a few blisters and have mostly treated them with Compeed, some of which a friend gave me, as well as posh ear plugs and lending me his book for a farewell Camino gift.

29th March, (Pamplona-Puente la Reina)
Today was another day of lovely weather. We hiked the Alto de Perdon which was gorgeous and did not seem hard in comparison to the last few days. Day 4 feels like it should be Day 3 or Day 7, but it was very pleasant. I definitely need more sleep to help get rid of the head cold I have gotten. Ko, the Korean, is really funny and let me taste his Korean spicy paste. We ate it on olives because he didn’t like the way the olives tasted. I shared with everyone that my mother sews quilts for prostitutes and just like her we can sleep when we are dead.

This AM I set off on my own. Mostly everyone caught up mostly. Luca the Italian gave me a lecture about my pace and how I walk reflects how I live and how my pace is fast and shows that I am focused on my destination and not the journey. I didn’t appreciate his wisdom very much, I felt like it wasn’t the golden feather from the bird of truth, but I really wanted some independence. This trip was for me to go and explore and be an inner journey. I do want to meet new people and learn the a sundry and many things we can from others, but I really enjoyed a bit of solitarity today and was just enjoying my pace and seeing the gorgeous countryside. I felt a need to be independent of the needs of others. I do really miss my family and would love to chat with Mom or Dad. I do appreciate the comradery in the hostal/albergue at night but also want to run at my own air a bit. I think that is a “spaniardism”.

I am starting to not feel so well, each day a little more so, but hopefully tomorrow that will improve. I have several oranges and loads of carrots, as well as some figs. The second day seemed mostly easy, but we were fighting off soreness. The third day was the shortest so far; my feet are probably my biggest discomfort factor and I am just incredibly tired. If I am up for it, I might go an extra 10 KM tomorrow, but it depends on if I am feeling better. I have enjoyed some comradery and walking and am incredibly impressed with our bodies capabilities.
The town we are in, Puente la Reina, is adorable and charming and very Spanish. I want to wander around these cute small places.
~~I am happy to be doing this and am going to listen to myself and enjoy and take photos whenever I want.

Le Chemin de Saint Jacques de Compostelle

I have typed out a lot of my journal I kept along the walk. It is somewhat entertaining to me to read back through it as it reminds me of how exhausted and all the different things I went through. The journaling really had a lack of structure, but it is realistic of how I felt and what I was capable of writing after packing 20+KM a day. Although after the first few days I definitely progressed on my writing ability ;)

27th March 2010:
So yesterday I traversed over the Pyrenees by foot from St. Jean Pied de Port. I really enjoyed the bus ride in the rain through the darling Basque French countryside. When we were on the bus several people got off on different stops, but the only travelers who stayed on were myself, several other girls and a middle-aged man with his mother, who I later saw making the hike as well.

Retrojournaling:
So the first day there was loads of wind and sun and a steep mountain traverse. I had met some girls off the bus and then we had had dinner together, Alissa, Frances, Amanda, the photographer from Vancouver, and myself. The first walking day we had shared most of the walk and made it in under 8 hours, despite the wind and our packs. It was gorgeous but I do remember being focused on the goal of just continuing while listening to my body. We had been told it would be the hardest day and more or less it has been. It wasn’t as pleasant because of the wind, but it was incredible. We met some other people on the way Sasha, the Hungarian with excellent English, and Mark, Ko, and others. We went to a shared dinner and pilgrim’s mass with more of the pilgrims. At mass the priest’s blessed us in our many different languages and then we went back to the hostel. There was a choir of snorers, being in one large dormitory with something like 100 bunk beds. I had some weird dreams and there were some rude women speaking loudly because they couldn’t sleep, but I have slept better since.

The mountains of Soraluze

A friend of mine from French class, Jon, (pronounced more like Yon than the American name John) invited me to see some of the mountains near his hometown this weekend and so this AM we went for a lovely long and chilly hike near his small town of "origin" near Éibar, called Soraluze. The natural park where we started was called Karakate and on a clear day you could see to the sea and to the southern region. Just the drive up was quite the mountain drive, and it wasn't too steep an incline of a hike, but a lovely walk. We trudged through mud and snow a bit, making my Camino de Santiago training more effective.
The funny little objects are mailboxes that sports societies/clubs used to use for a sort of game. I found them quite comical and so took pictures of the several at each of the mountain peaks. Jon has great patience for speaking Spanish with me and I learned that "mancho" means calm or kind of lazy, it's the opposite of savage. We had seen some horses that were just grazing on the mountain side, that were "mancho". Jon had told me that a gentleman who owns horses regularly has to go looking for them because they wander too much in the mountains. It was a pleasant inside view of Basque life, some good Castellaño practice and amazingly I ran into some students that I knew up on the mountain. Despite being on top of the world, there were people I knew, which is a really pleasant thing being in Eibar and a smaller town. Off to coffee with some friends¡

Marzo, Primavera and new beginnings

So the first of the month I moved to an apartment with two Frenchmen from the residence. One is Basque-French, Bixente, and the other is French from Nice, Steeve. The apartment is right next to the Official Language School, in downtown Eibar, and I have been quite content. I like having my own space and being so close to downtown, I can enjoy the Spanish paseo, or afternoon stroll and feel a little closer to Spanish life. I didn’t go out much from the residence because of such a walk to get to downtown to take a walk.

I have also started an English conversation group on Friday afternoons and have started attending a Pilates class at the gym. I love the class, and the teacher, Nerea, is fabulous. I can strengthen my core, posture, balance and Spanish all in one. I am still thoroughly enjoying my French class and go out for coffee usually every week with some of my French-class mates. Although I am living with two Frenchies, we mostly just speak in Castellaño, but I employ their aid each week for my homework.

The first day we got the keys for the apartment, we walked up to the apartment with the land-lady to look over details and how certain things worked. The first thing we tried, the hot water was not working. We played a bit and with different buttons in various places in the kitchen and under the sink, but to no avail. Bixente and Irene left to look for an “albañil” maybe? Or someone to help and came back with a gentleman. He as well did not know how to get it to work, Steeve, the other Frenchman, suggested maybe we didn’t have gas. So after playing a bit, Irene, our elderly land-lady said that hopefully tomorrow someone could come and fix the water-heater and if we needed to shower we could do so at her house. After they left, one of the roomies thought he found the solution and as we pushed buttons and played with gadgets, he turned a switch on a tube. We could start to hear a slight hiss noise of movement and then suddenly, water was spraying out under the water heater, (which is located above the counter) onto the microwave and all over the counter. I was thinking in English, but said, “La microondas” and Bixente and STeeve were talking about needing to turn the water off under the sink and the switch under the water-heater. Within a moment the water was not spraying out and we had rescued the microwave soon enough that it was fine, no water-damage. We mopped up half a bucket of water off the floor and water still seeped a bit out under the counter until the next AM. I was cracking up laughing, but I don’t think the other two thought it was as funny. After work, Marcello and Camille helped me move my things into the apartment and told the Frenchmen to look after me.
While arranging our things, the boys offered me what room I wanted first, but I thought that wasn’t very fair because I am going to be here the shortest time. We played rock, paper, scissors and I won and picked the room with the biggest closet. The boys also gave me my choice of bathroom, which I took the smaller of the two playing eeny-meeny-miny-mo. I think that is at least fair they get the bigger bathroom, sharing and all. So I am in the company of gentlemen and loving being able to cook. I have bought some basic groceries and things and some candles for decoration. I made Mexican style soup and peanut-thai soba noodles and some salads. I feel much better in Eibar in my own place. I have more time to be in-town and experience the Spanish life a bit more and to do things during the day that I couldn’t before because I was at the lunch-cafeteria.

The night after we moved in, Bixente came out of his room in his boxer briefs, but was walking like a chicken pulling them down and I had the hardest time not laughing but taking him seriously talking about some things he had bought for the kitchen. I mentioned this to a Basque friend that I saw on the street and she said it is quite normal to be in underwear when you share an apartment. I won’t be doing that but I will get over seeing the guys. Although after Steeve and I’s comments, I don’t know if Bixente will cat-walk the patterned boxer briefs down the hall again. When he came out of his room, I said, “Que pijamas” and Steeve uttered something to him in French. But I still can’t help but laugh when I think about it.

The photos are from a lovely hike near Eibar, but sadly I hadn't noticed a spot on my lens until I uploaded the pictures to my computer. Birgitte, the Austrian language assistant at the school in Eibar stayed over for a weekend, and we went out to see Eibar from above. She lives in Bilbao, but came to the theatre with us Friday evening and then out for a drink at a pub in Eibar. She and I made French toast Saturday AM, which Steeve told me really is French, but is called Pain Perdue, and usually takes advantage of old bread. He even said it tasted like Pain Perdue. Birgitte and I then hiked Monte Urko on the side of Eibar, which took us two hours to climb and just under one to descend. It was great weather and we even saw a few eagles at the top. We were incredibly wiped out and incredibly sore the next day but it was really enjoyable and hopefully will help prep me for Camino de Santiago. We could see all of the surrounding areas and distant mountains and I picked a few other places I would like to climb to.
I am loving having my own kitchen, eating as I please and feeling at home where I am. It was really nice to have Birgitte here for the weekend, as she is a pleasant person and we made some delicious hearty breakfasts.

At the new apartment there is a bar just facing us in front of my bedroom window and one Sunday afternoon there was a group of men singing. It was beautiful music but I am not sure what the occasion was. The son of the landlady who used to live here told me it is a bar, but “sociedad” which sort of means private club-cooking bar, but I asked him then if we couldn’t go, normally the gastronomic societies here are open by invitation only. He told me, “No, it is a bar” and that I should go in and find out. “Just go in” he encouraged me. I have yet to "enter" though.

Lyon, France

I got into Lyon, visited the tourist office and found the hostel with the help of a man on the street, the bus-driver, and a random worker at the metro station who told me he would see me soon in Los Angeles. I told him to have a good day. The hostel was a great location. The first picture is the view out of my hostel window. The hostel was located a small hike up on the hill in Vieux Lyon, had granola for breakfast and clean rooms. I met some other Americans there from Washington, WSU, to be exact who graduated last year too. The Spanish expression is the world is a handkerchief, so it’s a small world. I visited the textile museum and the gentleman who sold me my ticket gave me a free ticket to the extra exhibits because I am a textile student. They were really great, one about gloves in the modern world and the other about modern and technological textiles in design and art. The museum gentleman was very kind and kind of cute, he gave me the tickets with a wink and explained to me in French that I could go to the exhibits. I half understood, but the body language helped. I think I enjoyed the exhibits all the much more because someone thought it important enough for me to go to them that he gave me a free ticket. I didn't realize he had given to them for me for free at first because it was all in French, but afterwards I wanted to thank him and he wasn't there. Thank you random French people!

I walked around a lot and enjoyed some shopping. I finally found a striped shirt. It isn’t navy and white, but black and white but still serves as a fabulous stereotypical French souvenir. I met some people at my hostel, rode around on public transport to see the city a bit, visited the House of the “Canuts” which I believe can be translated as silk-workers or silk-weavers. I had a tour of the jacquard loom and a short lecture about the silk-cultivation brought over by priests to Lyon, silk’s first birthplace in Europe, it was illegally imported from the East. The tour was all in French however, so I didn’t even understand anything about the worker’s revolution that I had gone on the tour to find out about. I bought a silk scarf that was actually made in France not in China, is that actually fitting?, and was given a silk cocoon as a souvenir for the tour. I had asked if the tour would be in English, because at the tourist office they had mentioned that it would be. I walked around, and did a lot of window-shopping. I bought some cheese at the market on the street that had mildew growing on it. The hostel receptionist said it was good to eat. The inside was good, but the skin was too strong and not very pleasing. Some “sympa” French girls that I talked to told me it was okay to eat the skin, but wouldn’t taste good. It was just best not too. Lyon in all was a pleasant place to visit and I had a great placed hostel. If anyone ever goes, I would recommend going on a traboules tour, a tour of alleys in-between buildings and in blocks, somewhat non-secretive secret corridors if you didn’t know to look for them. The tourist office had a map with red lines highlighting them, so I went in search of some myself. It was quite fun, but I didn’t find them all. Some of them you just kind of happen to come upon them if you follow the crowds though. I liked the people in Lyon too. It merits a day or two in a site-seeing tour. If you like museums there are plenty to see and they do have a museum-pass with a student discount.

The other photos are of one of the traboules, or alleyways, one of a poster in the Silk-Weavers' House, the higher Basilique in Old Lyon, and the Hotel de Ville. Lovely place with lots of photo opportunities.

Aix-les-Baines et beaucoup fromageries

After my long weekend in Switzerland I stopped by Aix-les-Baines in France on my way to Lyon. The first day I went to a French movie. I at least understood the storyline and picked up a few expressions. After the movie I went back to the hostel and talked to the receptionist about hiking nearby. I met my roommate, Nadage, who was “trés sympa” at my hostel. She chauffeured me on a tour of the region’s cheese-shops. We visited trois fromageries in one day and went for a short hike looking out over the Massif Central, I believe. Aix-les-Baines is the in Savoie region and there are some beautiful mountains as well as a gorgeous lake right there. I spent the day enjoying cheese and the sun and was speaking with Nadage in English and in French. I am sure I learned a lot of French that day and worked on my fluency. That sounds funny to say because I really just have a few months of French lessons, but have had some great tutors along the way. She was from Bretagne or Brittany and was in-town for an interview but had a free day in-between. She had to collect some good cheeses to bring home because she said that this region really had better cheese than Brittany so she was bringing some to her parents. She really was a sweetheart and I felt so fortunate to have met her. Nadage even drove me to the train station the next day before her interview, after an eventful night of the wind blowing open a window.

It was an ideal day visiting fromageries (cheese-shops), one even had a tour/museum on the cheese making process, and a hike in the mountains as well as a short walk through Aix-les-Baines. The hike was at the top of a skiing slope and there was a beautiful look-out point onto Aix-les-Baines below. At the hostel before leaving the next day I had a conversation with the director about my view of my country; he had asked. It was quite challenging in French to explain so that will be my French homework for the next week. They were really welcoming and fun people and if anyone is traveling in France, in that region, I would recommend the hostel. Hosteling International proved a more helpful company than Hostelworld.com because I couldn’t find anything in that region on Hostelworld and very few things even in Lyon. For Hosteling International, you have to initially buy a 15 euro membership card that lasts for a year, but I was very happy with the two hostels I stayed in. The maximum amount of people in one room was 6, at least in the two I stayed in. Breakfasts were included at both places and they both had a good atmosphere.