sojourner2settler

July 2013 Often, Camino pilgrims find re-entry back to “normal life” a challenge. They have stepped off the work/consumer hamster wheel and discovered a beautiful unforced rhythm to life. Many find the fit so comfortable, they wished to return, I did, still do. “The trouble is you think you have time.” Jack Kornfield, Buddha’s Little Instruction Book. It took nearly being deleted from existence for me to become acutely aware of my mortality. The realisation of the short and f

Photo: a 2m line of caterpillars, nose to bum. Following on from such is life, day 15 - 20, Monday, 22nd – 27th April 2013 Jaca to Puente La Reina , 131km – 5 days. These were slow days, slow and empty days. I didn’t know it at the time but these days were like reading the last few lines in the chapter ending the first part of my pilgrimage. I was finding an inexpressible joy in almost everything I was experiencing. I loved watching the water form droplets on my eyelashes as

Photo: I took this picture, put my pack down and crossed it, the oldest (unreconstructed) bridge on the Camino. It stands unused, about 30m to the side of the modern route. “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human heart.” Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago. I think bridges are fantastic, you probably don't but that's okay. For most people, a bridge is an e

Following on from waiting, day 15 - 20, Monday, 22nd – 27th April 2013 Jaca to Puente La Reina , 131km – 5 days. Photo: looking back to the Pyrenees What a fantastic start to my day. First of all because I gave my socks a good wash they were no longer shaped into left and right feet. As a bonus, they didn’t smell (too bad). Over the next few days, the sun and wind had an argument over who controlled the thermostat. I developed the knack of putting on, and taking off, my fleec

Following on from the too much tenderness, day 14, Sunday, 21st April 2013 Jaca, a day of rest. Photo: I filched this photo because I can't float ½ km above the ground. I left the chemist with my medical supplies and walked into the first hotel. Didn’t ask the price just booked a room, for two nights. I was planning a whole day of rest. The Camino is a linear journey, you start and end at different towns. This means carrying all you need, day to day. One of the problems this

Following on from understand, day 13, Saturday, 20th April 2013 Villanúa to Jaca, 14 km – 3 hours Photo: Treatment for dealing with a foot blister. The four other pilgrims were pushing on today but I wanted a short easy three-hour stroll to Jaca. I would be there before lunch, and a looked forward to a long day of rest. I started off in a cold heavy rain but the sky soon brightened up and the sunshine made all things bright and beautiful. Life was good, for an hour, at least.

Following on from death trip and safe, day 12, Friday, 19th April 2013 The Col du Somport to Villanúa, 16 km – 4 hours Photo: A Scotsman in shorts in a snow storm standing next to a stone wall A Scotsman, a Brazilian, and three Portuguese men all left a bar and walked out into a blizzard. No joke, that’s exactly what happened. After 20 meters we all stopped and looked down the signposted path for the Camino, and without saying a word we walked on, it was a leg breaker if ever

Following on from death trip, day 12, Friday, 19th April 2013 The Col du Somport to Villanúa, 16 km – 4 hours Photo: the view from the Albergue window I climbed to the Somport Pass in the Pyrenees, and walked across the border from France to Spain. A small achievement in life. The Albergue Aysa is 100 meters across the border. I removed my pack and boots in the entrance and padded, in my wet socks, over to the bar. Customers were lined up at the bar, and they all turned, as o

Following on from the last feast, day 11, Thursday, 18th April 2013 The Col du Somport, 1 hour Photo: the start of the Cold du Somport basin, time 15:48 “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” Oscar Wilde. When a zebra runs from a lion, it isn’t having an existential panic attack, it’s running because there is a real and very present danger of being shredded. I think we have all experienced the fight or flight response to a scary predicamen

Following on from the ritz, day 11, Thursday, 18th April 2013 Bedous to the Col du Somport, 30km – 8 hours Photo: 09:43 on my way to the Col du Somport The thing about walking, as opposed to driving, is that everything takes so much longer. The journey from Pau to the Somport tunnel under the Pyrenees takes about 1h 30m by car. It took three days of walking. Photo: the long gentle climb up the Aspe Valley. In these last few days, I was experiencing a deeper level of quiet joy

Following from my fantastic another journey experience, day 10, Wednesday 17th April 2013. Oloron-Sainte-Marie to Bedous, 30km – 8 hours Photo: I found it's best to leave my boots outside to ... air Following from my fantastic another journey experience, day 11, Friday 18th April 2013 Oloron-Sainte-Marie to Bedous, 30km – 8 hours The Camino route from Pau in France to Jaca in Spain is south. This means the sun rises on your left ear and sets on your right ear and fries your

Following on from everything changes, day 10, Thursday 17th April 2013 Train to Pau, and walk to Oloron-Sainte-Marie. Photo: the amazing Gare de Pau. With my newly discovered positivity, I can report that I found my way from the train to the main entrance without getting lost. As mentioned previously, getting to the centre of a town is relatively easy. It’s either signposted or if you can find someone, they usually know. Getting out of town, to a relatively unknown footpath w

Following on from the alibi, day 10, Thursday 17th April 2013 On the train from Toulouse to Pau Photo: I didn't take this picture, I borrowed it from the internet The earth revolves around the sun every 365 days, 5 hours, 59 minutes and 16 seconds. In the vastness of uninterested space, no one single point is of any more significance than another. And yet, here on earth (in the west), we choose to celebrate one specific second becoming another specific second. We do this beca

Following on from panorama Lunas to Saint-Gervais-sur-Mare, Wednesday 16th April 2013 (day 9) - 30km / 8h Photo: my intended route, I actually stopped at Bousquet-d’Orb I left Lunas quite early because it looked like a long day. The weather was colder, the sky more grey, and for the first time, I suspected rain. Ten minutes later, it rained. A huge instant downpour. I sheltered under a huge tree and waited, and waited. I gave up. Cold and stiff I made my way out into the rain

Photo: The fictitious 3h 12m walking route as provided by Google. Following on from save me (from myself), I am now on day 7 or 8, Lodéve to Lunas, 27km What a difference a shower, a night of decent sleep and good food makes. I felt almost human. This area of Haut-Languedoc is a really popular tourist destination and the hotel had a huge map in the lobby. The path looked well marked and that cheered me up, no getting lost today. With a pack, I walk at about 4.5km per hour, 27

Following on from woodchopper, Day 7, could be 8 or 6, absolutely no idea Woodshed to Lodéve ?km / ?h Photo: the map is only an approximation. I really had no idea where I was or where, except I was in the grey area somewhere. After a less than comfortable night, I dragged my sorry soggy arse out of the woods. My arse was soggy because my arse was touching the ground and soaked up 2km² of surrounding moisture. My one thought was, find a town, get a bus and go somewhere else.

Photo: artwork by the German expressionist Willy Jaeckel “World War I was the most colossal, murderous, mismanaged butchery that has ever taken place on earth. Any writer who said otherwise lied, So the writers either wrote propaganda, shut up, or fought.” Ernest Hemingway. Photo: one of the many many war memorials I passed on the route. Without fail, the path through every French village passes a war memorial. Often it was a large solid edifice, depicting a WWI soldier or he

Pause to reflect. Photo: from istock Some people think walking is boring, they are wrong. I had been lost, bitten by ants, scared by a snake, attacked by dogs, bullied by belligerent cows, and dangled on a barbed-wire fence. I have gone hungry, and thirsty, slept in a half built house, and a forest abandoned woodshed and got lost, horribly horribly lost? Walking can be great a great adventure, unfortunately, I was on a trip to hell. What had gone wrong? This can get a bit dee

Following for https://www.urasojourner.com/post/bed-in-the-corner. Photo: This is what my route should have been ... approximately. It was a perfect personal storm. I was fat and unfit for the walk. The combination of being lost or constantly anxious about being lost was grinding. Add to this my strong sense of isolation, the knowledge that out here, no one cared about me. I had no outside stimulus, no music, radio, tv, internet, I had no extra mental entertainment. My head w

Following on from https://www.urasojourner.com/post/lucky-man (6th April 2013) “To know what would have happened, child? said Aslan. No. Nobody is ever told that.” C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian Dammit, I was lost, again. My Camino guide was about to become toilet paper. I started out in great spirits, a relatively easy five hour stroll to St Jean de la Blaquière was my goal. Three hours later I was kicking fresh air in a nuclear level murderous rage. There were no signs, just tr