Buen Camino

Remembering in anticipation

In September, we plan to walk the ancient pilgrim route known as the Camino Portuguese, from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostela in north western Spain. In anticipation of this pilgrimage here are a few photos and memories from our last camino.

Three years ago, we walked el Camino de Santiago, 'the Way of St James', from the small French village of St Jean Pied de Port on the eastern side of the Pyrenees to Cape Finisterre on the far northwestern corner of Spain. This route (approx. 900kms) is also known as the camino Frances or French way.

For a thousand years this path has been recognised as a significant Christian pilgrim route. It was well worn in the Middle Ages, but the Black Death, Protestant Reformation, and political unrest in 16th century Europe led to a dramatic decline in the number of pilgrims. By the 1980s, only a trickle of people were walking this path but all that has changed. In the past twenty years it has attracted growing numbers of pilgrims from around the globe (over 200,000 last year). 

We began our pilgrimage on 16th September 2013; from the mountains to the sea, the centre to the edge, it was an exacting and wonderful journey of transition and healing. 

Here's Sarah, in the beautiful village of St Jean, kitted and ready to go.

And again, a couple of hours later, powering up the steep slopes of the Pyrenees and still smiling!! Notice the two cyclists dropping off the peloton - clearly not climbers!!

Nothing tastes better than a cold beer after a climb like that. This auberge at Orrison is where we spent our first night on the camino. How's that for a view!!

The weather in the Pyrenees is renowned for being fickle and next day, true to form, the rain came and the view disappeared! 'The camino gives you what you need', they say. Sometimes we wondered if we needed everything it gave us!!

Refilling at the Fontaine de Roland, a reminder of the historical significance of this route. Roland, Charlemagne and Napoleon all crossed the Pyrenees using this path, as have hundreds of thousands of pilgrims before and since.

A little later we passed through this ancient beech forest on the descent to Roncesvalles, our first stop on the Spanish side of the border.

Thanks to 'The Way' (the movie) this has to be the most photographed sign in Spain.

One of many little bridges we crossed. There were so many crossings, large and small, a reminder that to walk from here to there is to be in transition. And, so it proved to be in the lives of all we met. 

What is the collective noun for a group of pilgrims? I favour a 'stagger'. Sarah is not the first pilgrim to lean on this sign. Walk on pilgrim, walk on!!

Olives and grapes in the region of Rioja; side by side they make a beautiful quilt-like pattern.

Approaching the village of Ciraqui. It reminded us of 'the Heavenly City' in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. Notice too, our shadows, constant companions along this way. Engaging your 'shadow' is surely part of this pilgrimage caper. In his book Old Ways, Robert Macfarlane refers to walking as 'a reconnoitre inwards' and this was certainly our experience.

A particularly 'sunny' (if slightly aged) sun flower!!

Neil walking with two Irish pilgrims towards the small town of Los Arcos. Connections and conversations on the camino, though fleeting, can be very rich.

Later that day, a joyous gathering of pilgrims from many nations sharing simple food and friendship. This feast was concocted by Antonio, an Italian chef who'd run a restaurant in Malta - that's him in the black teeshirt on the left holding up a glass. Cheers to you, Antonio - buen camino!

 Stopping briefly for some podiatric repairs. A walk of this intensity exposes every weakness in your feet, ankles, shins, knees and hips. Thank goodness for Elastoplast and Ibuprofen!!

Some poignant grafitti on the wall of an underpass.

Another bridge, another small transition. Walk on pilgrim, walk on...

On the Meseta - the long high plateau midway along the camino Frances.

More rain and mud - another challenging day!!

Sarah soothing sore soles in the public fountain in Mansilla.

Standing outside the Parador Hotel in Leon. To our great surprise they let us in for a reasonable price. Definitely the most luxurious accommodation we had on the camino - it even had a bath!! You can imagine how good was to bathe aching feet and muscles.

And below. The Gaudi Palace in Astorga (not that we got to stay in this!). It looks like something out of a Disney fairytale. The Spanish have some amazing architecture.

A simple picnic along the way. We savoured these rest stops and simple feasts.

Some of our pilgrim pals - (l-r) Marianne from Denmark, Annemarie from Canada, Ken from Canada, the local shop keeper, Sarah, and Geoff from Canada. We're looking forward to walking again with Annemarie and Geoff on the Camino Portuguese.

And, here's some of the Aussies we met along the way - (l-r) Bob, Devina, Robyn, John and Rory all from Queensland.

The yellow flechas (arrows) show the way. Mostly they are just painted on the path or a tree or pole. We missed some but it would be hard to miss this one. I'm going that way!!

Cruz de Ferro - the highest point of the camino Frances. We arrived before dawn. The huge mound on which Sarah is standing consists of stones carried there and left by pilgrims, a symbol of burdens laid down over many centuries. Some of them were pretty big! It was a moving experience.

This municipal albergue in Portomarin was more typical of our accommodation. Not much space or privacy here but it was a bed and a shower and for that we were grateful. Who looks tired?

After 33 footsore days we limped exultantly into the Cathedral of St James. There is so much I could say about this experience but I'll save that for another time and place. Santiago is the stopping palace for many pilgrims but we always intended to walk on.

And then, after three more days of walking (well paddling actually) in floods and wild wind we reached Finisterra, 'the end of the earth', where I threw myself off - naked! You'll be pleased to know there is no photographic evidence of this 'baptism' (our camera died two days earlier in the torrential rain!!). We also threw the little rocks we had carried from Canberra into the Atlantic (another symbol of letting go) and then stumbled back up the headland to a little cafe where drenched, we celebrated Sarah's birthday with a spaghetti marinara!!

This shot, on Cape Finisterre, was taken during a brief clearing in the mist and rain on someone else's phone. That black pit next to us is a fireplace where pilgrims burn boots and all manner of items, a sign of having completed their pilgrimage. 

Alas, no sooner had we arrived than we realised our pilgrim days weren't done. And so, we plan to walk again, this time from Lisbon. We leave in September and we'll keep you posted ...

'To journey and be changed by the journey is to be a pilgrim.' Mark Nepo  

Buen camino!

Voyage of the Dawn Princess

A South Pacific Adventure

Two days ago, Sarah and I returned from two weeks at sea on the Dawn Princess. Thirteen of us - inlaws and outlaws - departed from Circular Quay on a cruise to celebrate Mum's 80th birthday. It was an experience we never expected to have and one that far exceeded our expectations.

Sydney Harbour is one of the most beautiful harbours in the world and as we set sail we were treated to spectacular views of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. 

I spent many weekends as a teenager racing Mirror Dinghies and later ocean racing on the eastern seaboard of Australia, and it was wonderful to be at sea again. Sarah soon found her sea legs and we were struck by the vast immensity of the ocean and the different perspective it offered on what it means to inhabit planet earth - so much water!!

Here's one of the sunsets we were treated to as we sailed from the little island of Lifou, New Caledonia. 

People wondered if we would get bored being at sea day after day but we were struck by the many changing faces of the sea and sky. 

We visited three countries - Vanuatu, Fiji and New Caledonia. There was a common Pacific 'feel', but each had distinctive character - and in both Vanuatu and Fiji there was evidence of cyclone damage. 

Wrecked boats in the harbour at Port Vila. 

The fish markets in Suva, and towering behind them, the Dawn Princess.

From the village of Savusavu, on Fiji's second largest island.

 Colourful sarongs in a little village on Dravuni Island, Fiji - population 200. 

Truly an island paradise!!

We swam and snorkelled amidst the coral and gently waving sea grasses, and an array of beautiful, bright coloured fish. Afterwards, we walked to the peak of the island (200 metres or so) and surveyed the surrounding islands.

The Coconut Camino!!

We approached our final destination, Noumea, early in the morning.

As the ship drew up to the quay of this 'French' Pacific nation, we were greeted by a group of indigenous men and women drumming, dancing and singing on the water's edge. 

There was a fierceness about this ritual, a bit like the Maori 'haka', but it ended with a cry of welcome. 

Watching from our balcony high on the tenth deck, we were deeply moved. These warriors, like their forebears, were fierce and gallant, and yet dwarfed by the massive ship they seemed so vulnerable - their wooden spears and drums no match for the technological power of what was bearing down on them. 

The pathos of it was almost unbearable. It made so vividly present what European invasion has meant for these people and so many indigenous communities around the world. And here we were - appreciative spectators and yet also  implicated in the systemic injustices and shadow.

So, reflecting on our cruise, we're left with a sense of deep gratitude for the experience and for Mum's generosity in making it possible. Wonder at the sea, delight at the connections with locals and the islands, and a deeply relaxing holiday. And also some lingering unease connected with the sheer scale of it all - questions about the environmental impact of so many huge ships plying the seven seas mostly for entertainment, and about how the economics of it work for cruise staff, and ultimately for local communities. We're very grateful for the privilege of the opportunity to travel, and at the same time find ourselves pondering what it means to receive this gift...