Step back to step forward

Being in Ireland again – something I was hardly able to foresee, think about or contemplate when I was walking the Camino – has gently eased (or subtly forced) me back into a slower pace of life. It’s been quite a shock to the system to suddenly not be moving so constantly. 

Physically, the walking itself as well as slowing down and stepping away from it, have done me the world of good. I notice how my stamina has increased, how much more grounded and strong I feel when I’m out walking (I’ve even started jogging again, after YEARS of thinking it was bad for me… The Camino experience has made me realize how good it feels to do strenuous exercise, pushing the physical boundaries a little). Mentally, slowing down, has been tough. I’ve had a few days when my head has been screaming at me to get moving again. There’s been panic when I’d realize a move isn’t literally happening at this very instant. Of course, frustration follows suit. Mental turmoil, if we can’t find our centre, will lead to emotional earthquakes and inner explosions…

Needless to say, as the hills I’ve walked, go up and down, I too have been taking that same course since stepping away from the Camino. 

I never realized when I was walking just how much was being mentally sparked-off. A certain old way of perceiving life: going, going, going… without daring to STOP and witness the journey. Literally, when I was walking, I recall having stretches of let’s say 20 or 30km where I experienced EXACTLY that! I’d be walking so intensely, the mind would be racing, the legs would be on auto-pilot, I’d be dealing with whatever ache or pain that would show up on the body, I’d be fixated on finding the yellow arrows (which would guide me to that days destination), I’d be concerned about eating enough and finding the next meal and often fail to actually STOP in my tracks. The faster the mind goes, the harder it is to slow it down. And my mind hardly stopped, throughout the whole experience – whether I was moving to the next place throughout the mornings and early afternoons or lying down and refuelling in the evenings and nights. The speedy took over… and many times I felt I was walking away from myself.

If we never manage to slow down the constantly racing thoughts, of course stress and pressure accumulates. And for me it triggered my old need to RACE through life without consciously taking space to breathe.

When walking any camino it’s necessary to have a certain amount of stress. But it’s positive stress we need; this is what activates us to do certain things. It’s probably better to call this an energy that awakens due to being inspired and passionate to do something. Without it we’d become passive and lack the drive to actually get up and going. A person can’t pursue something that pushes the boundaries (on whatever level) without having a certain amount of positive stress produced by a drive and passion to pursue (and hopefully succeed at) something that’s so challenging. However, when that energy shifts and is no longer sourced from a deeper space of inspiration, it becomes something sourced from a superficial place – a place that’s never satisfied, that’s clouded, blind and only wishing to achieve for the sake of face, regardless of what the feelings are telling us to do – then the stress becomes a negative form and a person starts losing themselves in what they’re doing.

There’s a fine line between positive focus and negative force. The first we can sustain, the latter we can’t. The first empowers, the latter drains. Positive focus enables us to enjoy what we’re doing. It permits us to feel our limits, to accept those limits and to be real about how we’re experiencing our experience. Negative force doesn’t care one way or the other; it will push the individual to do, achieve and reach whatever it’s aiming for, even if the eyes are closed to the surroundings and the body isn’t strengthening but only weakening as a result of the challenge.

Looking back, I can see how I had times of positive focus but also of negative force. And I know that was all part of the learning experience. I could hardly see any of this – at least not as clearly as I can see it now – when it was happening. Only by stepping away, I’ve come to see it as such. And I’m delighted I stopped when I did; I’m certain I gave power my positive side and NOT my negative side, by doing so.  

Now that I’m slowing down and the racing mind is changing its focus, I sometimes feel I’ve lost something, that I’m falling and there’s nothing to catch me. But I know this is just an illusion – of course as it always is. The mind will do its best in convincing us that where we presently are, is the wrong place and what we’re doing isn’t enough. This is only logical reaction, taking into consideration the extreme differences in reality that have been encountered; so close in space and time, yet worlds apart in experience.

So, I’ll sit through this strange period of transition. I let panic and frustration fly away. I breathe, I breathe and I breathe. I focus on where I want to head, trusting that it will work out in due time, in whatever way it’s meant.

Picture timeline Via de la Plata: Sevilla - Salamanca

Silver and Gold

From Salamanca I made my way to Madrid on Sunday afternoon (the 28th). I moved from a city of gold to a city of silver. I felt Salamanca as being gold, not only because it was my 'finishing line' but also because the city itself is an accummulation of architecture made up of golden bricks. The sun was shining, making the buildings even more striking. That particular place really made its mark, feeling like a tranquill open air museum, where the people only have oceans of time and next to no worries at all.

The first impressions of Madrid, were silver. Maybe because that was the colour of the sky and the buildings. The clouds had formed - which many will class as being gray. But considering this city as being gray, would take away much of the glow that would otherwise be experienced in this Spanish Capital. So, silver it has to be!

The train journey yesterday brought me back to reality. We travelled at 150km an hour, through the midlands of Spain. We moved across more than 200km in only 2 hours. This is of course normal. I know. But when you've been moving at a 'speed' of 5km per hour, for 3 full weeks, then to suddenly be moving hundreds of kms in the space of a few short hours, it's quite... different, amazing, odd, fast and EFFICIENT! I sat, staring out at the landscape racing passed the windows and realized it would take 7 days to walk - if a walker is moving at 'high speed'. Just goes to show how the perspective of time and distance can change, when a person is solely reliant on their feet to move them forward around this world.

Since finishing the walk on Friday, the temperatures have dropped. In Salamanca the skies were blue, but it was only 2 degrees at 8am on Saturday morning. Listening to the locals, it seemed to have come out of nowhere; only a few days previous it had been hitting 30! When I left Salamanca, I'd hoped Madrid would be a little warmer. But it's just a chilly and the silver clouds hanging above have opened themselves up, making me look at the locals and tourists with envy, seeing how they´re snuggled up in their wintercoats, hats and scarves.

Today, as I walk the unknown streets of Madrid, looking like a person who has just come from the wilderness, I'm wearing every stitch of clothing I've got (which I've been wearing everyday now for almost 4 full weeks) to keep myself warm. I'm feeling very much misplaced and in need of some pampering. Also aches and pains have started surfacing, from the walking. Obviously these are pains I had to suppress these past weeks. And when a person slows down, what needs to surface, will arise. My energy feels lower than it did, now that I've slowed down. But that's a normal effect - nothing some rest and refuelling won't cure.

Everything is happening as it should - as I cool down in Madrid. Everything is only adding to the experience.

As I walk, I'm browsing this life, this city, the locals and their ways. I'm taking in how the tourists stroll, snap pictures and try to figure their way around the maze of this city centre. I contemplate a life here in this silver city, as I've contemplated a life in the golden city of Salamanca, the authentic Sevilla and all the other 20 or 30 places I've roamed through, this past month.

I can only conclude, that it's not really possible to know if I'd be suited to any individual city, town or village here in Spain. Only by doing something, can we know if it suits. Therefore I can't yet know. All I DO know is that Spain is quite a special place. There's a spirit here, that's unique. There's the warm temperament and passion of the native people, together with the language. There's the relaxed attitude and the importance that's placed on social interactions, above everything else in life. These could be reasons for Spain to hold a special place. Or maybe it's simply because I've had my first REAL experience as a 'wanderer with a purpose'...

This is where I've roamed the roads step by step; where I've struggled but grown; where I've felt challenged but still was able to overcome. It's where I've appreciated the uncountable different landscapes I've come to cross paths with and watched the wildnerness change before my eyes with every km I moved.

For sure, this past month has awakened many things. For sure, it's opened my world. For sure, it will move me onwards. Right now, as I sit in an internet cafe in the centre of Madrid, I can't be sure exactly where it will lead. I can't know until I take the next step and distance myself a little.

The next stop will be Dublin. Tomorrow morning I fly back, or onwards should I say. With eyes wide open and a wish for new opportunities to present themselves, I know that the place I came from will have changed - even if it's just a little - by having had this experience of the Camino and of Spain.

Warmest greetings from the silver city.

550 kms later

After a short day on Tuesday of 10kms, on Wednesday I was able to go a full stretch again. It turned out to be the most amazing day. I was free, full of life, open to my surroundings, appreciating every km and trusting that eventually the full 33 kms of that particular day would bring me to a bed. 

My feet brought me all the way, not only to a bed, but also to be reunited with many of the walkers I'd met weeks ago (some of which I didn't think I'd meet again). It was quite a special evening in the hostel; the most communal feeling I've had on the whole Camino. I'm not sure why. Maybe because the journey had been so 'up and down' up until that point and on that day I felt I was being welcomed back in to a family with open arms, especially by Irish Mary and her Spanish and Italian companions. How unexpected, but so precious for our paths to cross again. 

The next morning I decided to walk with them. They'd invited me before but I'd pulled back, wanting to go alone. At that stage however, it felt right to let myself be apart of a group. I realized, during the 28kms on Thursday, that walking together in a group, if the pace is right, is just as special as walking alone.

Thursday evening I suddenly saw the end of this part of the Camino, drawing closer; Salamanca was only a 24km-day away! 

I´d been contemplating walking another 70kms, from Salamanca to Zamora, before flying to Ireland on Tuesday morning (the 30th). Because a part of me didn't want to stop moving. But I realized the largest part of myself, wanted to take a breather, to catch up on some rest, to step back from the experience and to cool down properly and process. I didn't want to be running off the Camino trail and on to a Ryan Air flight! Before starting the walk, I'd planned to stop walking in Salamanca, to visit the city properly for an extra day and then visit Madrid before flying back to Ireland. So, with great relief, on Thursday evening I decided that arriving in Salamanca on Friday would be the final leg of the journey, for the time being. I also chose to walk the last 24 kms from San Pedro de Rozabos to Salamanca, with the group. 

It´s quite fascinating how this particular group became like a family to me; Mary from Ireland, her Spanish friend Hugo (from Cadiz in the south of Spain), Mari and Jose (from Barcelona), the beautiful Russian Sasha and Angelo from Italy. The amount of language barriers there were, didn't stop me from becoming quite absorbed. Friday afternoon, after reaching Salamanca, we spent the day with the 7 of us, roaming the streets of beautiful Salamanca, taking in the city vibes and celebrating we'd made it so far. 

Yesterday I was still very much in the 'Camino' bubble. This morning, after saying goodbye to the group, it started to open up. Mary, Hugo, Sasha and Angelo have walked onwards and will continue to, until they reach Santiago (another 500kms north west). Mari and Jose went back to Barcelona this morning. As for me, I'm in Salamanca, taking some time to start stepping into whatever will come next.

There are hundreds of reflections, insights and feelings that have come to me throughout the previous 3 weeks, and the nearly 550kms I´ve walked - both alone and in union with other walkers. To sum it up for now... I think the biggest revelation is that LIFE itself is a CAMINO (camino meaning ROAD in Spanish). The biggest issues we stumble upon as we walk these routes, are the issues we're actually dealing with during our daily life. However, in our daily life, we're not always faced with them so 'sternly'. On the CAMINO, there's no escape. 

Throughout the passed week, I was feeling as if this walking was actually bringing me to be walking AWAY from myself. But the consciousness that these walks have almost forced me to place on my physical body, tells me what I'm dealing with most in my own life, but was unaware of. It's true that, not until we start challenging ourselves in ways that our daily lives don't challenge us, do we realize our shortcomings. I realize mine... I've given those shortcomings my attention and made them a priority on this Camino. I've learned the importance. I've felt the satisfaction that comes when the phyiscal body brings us further than we ever imagined. However, I've felt the fear, when it doesn't. I know my mind and my core are so powerful. And the house in which they hold their space, is just a relevant, sustained, strong and invincible yet vulnerable all at once. 

Crossing boundaries

My last update was from Casares - 9 days ago (the 18th). I left the city the following morning and the walking upped a few notches. Things started to unfold at lightening speed. I had stretches of more than 30kms and the rising heat, my insuficient Spanish and the absence of a guidebook, didn't make my journey any easier than it could've been. Moments of panic and fear, mainly brought on due to extreme fatigue, really challenged me. It's quite daunting what the mind can do, when it's pushed beyond its limits and exhausted.

The reason for the stretches to be so long has, most times, been due to having no other option along the way, in regards to hostels and facilities. Over the past weeks, I've spoken with many experienced walkers who have walked different routes in Spain. And everyone says the same: this particular Camino is a tough one, because there are limited hostels and facilities along the way. Apparently on other routes, after every 5 or 10 kms, there are places to sleep and eat. But that's not the case on this route, and it's therefore become known for it's level of endurance. As this is my first Camino, many walkers have been intrigued WHY I chose this route instead of the more popular, easier and better facilitated one. The answer to this question, was IN the question; other routes (especially the traditional route of Frances) are too populated and heaving with tourists. This particular one - Via de la Plata - is less popular. That's why I chose it; I'd be sure to have more space.. And if long distances between hostels is a price to pay for receiving more silence, then it's not too high.

So I'm not sorry AT ALL that I chose this particular route. Yes, I've been challenged but these challenges have taught me so much, and the people I've come to meet, whilst facing these challenges, have even been like teachers to me.

Last Sunday for example (when my legs were to take me 32km from Grimaldo to Carcaboso), I met a man from Valencia as I set out at 07.30am. Manuelle. He's one of the strongest and fastest walkers I've met, for someone who could be my grandfather. I was well-impressed, as he was with me. His pace fitted mine, hence the reason for us to walk together. Without him speaking English, I sourced some of my very basic conversational Spanish. It was all very simple, but that didn't matter. After walking 32km together, it was as if we'd been friends for ages.

What I learned from him - simply by observing HOW he'd approach his walking and be successful in maintaining his pace with as little frustration as possible after walking 2 full days with him over a stretch of 70kms - was the importance of storing energy and building physical strength from within. As well I could see how a certain level of experience and preparation means the mental ability expands and makes it more possible to walk certain stretches, without feeling the stress or pressure is going to break the physical self.

On the second day (Monday, the 20th) we walked together. It was the biggest day I was to have; 40km without a town or facility of any kind in between. I was feeling strong at the start. But after only 20kms, I started to fade away. I was clearly overdoing it, but I'd started that stretch, so I'd continue (it's crazy how hard it can be, to STOP when you've started something. If you're so obsorbed, it can take MORE effort to step away than to actually go on).

At one stage, with 10km more to go, I started to feel physically ill and felt I was screaming from within, as I pounded on the pavement for the 4th or 5th hour. The fact that I didn't know what terrain we were about to walk on, what circumstances I still needed to go through, if my legs would carry me or if the heat would melt me... were uncertainties that accumulated and I let those worries zap my energy, until I had no choice and simply HAD to STOP.

On the side of a motorway, I felt my body was going to fall apart. But I wasn't alone. I had my walking companion. And in such situations, words aren't needed. We don't need to express what's going on inside - there's simply a level of understanding. And the smallest gestures then are enough to feel as if the heavens have opened up and GOD has sent the saving grace. There Manuelle stood, with a piece of fruit and half a bun... (my own food supply had run out). Well, I nearly cried inside... realizing that all my body and mind needed was MORE food (so much in fact, that my backpack didn't have enough space for a big enough supply to see me through the 40kms). Some fruit and a bun later, I was smiling again. Exhausted, but sure I'd eventually make it... Slowly but surely, my legs brought me to my bed for night....

The mental ability that's needed in order to stretch yourself out over such a distance, is quite daunting. It's impossible to know what the circumstances will be before heading off on the road. But how we deal with certain circumstances that arise, totally depends on our own selves, our level of energy and our peace of mind when taking on whatever our situations present us with. This is why I was so inspired by Manuelle; he's got this constant state of calm control, in all situations, and knows he'll get to his destination. He's totally IN the journey, moving through the motions and not wasting his energy on certain mental drawbacks.

That day was the toughest by far. My fatigue blinded me to the ability I have to overcome challenges. And it was the accumulation of kms, since leaving Casares, that exhausted me. I was hitting 130kms in the space of 4 days. My mental capacity to deal with such pressure, nearly broke me. But I was able to understand it. It brought home many many revelations. As well, the importance of food and rest, hit me, on every level. Wow... such simply things we otherwise take for granted.

The following day Manuelle had to go back to Valencia. So, we said goodbye, promising to keep in touch. I was delighted to have met him, but also delighted to be out on my own again.

That day, there was the possbility of doing only a 10km stretch. And it meant I was able to slow down the train I felt the Camino to have become. It gave me a chance to rest, to sit, to write, and to eat MORE. I was simply listening to my body, doing what it was telling me to do. And the day before, as I stood on the roadside, my body felt as if it was going to fall apart. It was terrifying almost; a feeling that pushed me to go further beyond my boundaries where food is concerned. I felt the only thing, besides rest, that would keep me together, was mountains of food. It didn't even matter what or when it was. So the ill-varied food that's available here, was suddenly my glue. And how grateful I've become for the simplest of sustenance to keep me satisfied, energized and sustained along the way.

Sevilla to Guillena

Oh the joys of just GOING, BEING and walking onwards...

Am I now an 'official' pilgrim... just because I have a pilgrim passport in my pocket and a backpack on my back weighing ONLY 8 kilos that contains everything I need so as to keep me physically healthy, happy and jumping for joy, for at least the next... however long I want..? 

What definition can be given to a pilgrim anyway? Most consider it be to those who walk for religious purposes. But I heard something quite striking, these past days... 'a pilgrim is a wanderer with a purpose'. Thats it...!!! Hearing this, I felt so recognized! The individual pilgrim / wanderer / walker determines their own purpose. And my own individual purpose is also defined... For now, Im a wanderer with the purpose of finding strengths on different levels, by means of doing something Ive never done before. Simple... No need to analyze ;)  

This morning, I put my backpack on my back, at 08.30 and left the hostel. I moved away from the centre of Seville, after spending 2 days roaming, exploring, eating tortillas (spanish omelettes) and meeting people from some random walks of life. Amongst others there was an Egyptian guy who has left Egypt for the first time in his life and is amazed by the Western culture;  a heartbroken Turkish girl who is travelling for the first time by herself and in desperate need of company and let me not forget to mention the most handsome Spaniard Ive ever met, who couldnt understand why others can be so inspired by Spain (this was probably the reason for him to be so fascinated by my enthusiasm).

These were lovely people who made my stay in the hostel quite homing. And outside the hostel I had a few random meetings. The most significant one was yesterday morning (Thursday). I was one of the hundreds of cafes in the city centre having breakfast. A girl sat down behind me. When I was about to leave she randomly asked me if I was doing the Camino. I was shocked that she guessed what I was in Spain for! 'The shoes are a giveaway!!!' Of course... Ive got 'walker' written all over me at the moment!

There were definitely forces at work that brought us together. Because she herself had only just arrived in Seville, from Germany, and was starting the first leg of the journey today too. We ended up spending the day together and it was such a blessing... It really got me on track. Any doubts I had about whether or not to do it, subsided. It raised my excitement and I suddenly felt less alone... Because at times, since first arriving in the city, I wondered if I was the only one who was walking the Via de la Plata! However, in a city - with thousands of tourists - it would be almost impossible to find pilgrims and to connect... Let me stress the word ALMOST, because my meeting with this lovely German lady proved that nothing is impossible!

We were going to start walking together. However she had decided to get a bus from the centre of Seville to a town just north of the city, so as not to have to walk through a massively muddy area (which was a result of the unexpected rain thats been falling on this area of Spain for the past weeks). But I decided against the idea of hopping on a bus, just to save myself a muddy venture. And this morning, as I left the city, I was of course met with a stretch of slush that was quite daunting... I wasnt alone however in getting through the slog. Because, just as I left the city, I met 2 other ladies from Austria, who I walked the first 10 kms with. We helped each other and - even though small parts of myself wanted to be alone - I was so grateful not to be doing that muddy stretch without their help.

After 10 kms we met another lady, from Australia. And before I knew where I was, Id left the Austrian women behind, as my pace as speeded up, and was totally engrossed in spending some kms with this lady from downunder. Our pace was quite similar too.

As we walked and chatted about some quite cool stuff, we were greeted by other walkers, everyone wishing each other well, yet individually sticking to their own pace.

Because of the massive rainfall, some of the rivers had burst their banks, so we were told by roadworkers to walk along the national highway. And we did - getting drenched along the way, as the huge thick black clouds up above opened themselves up. That was actually quite a highlight for me... I felt so ALIVE being one person amongst the strangling walkers, dotted along the highway and being blown to pieces. It was liberating not to have the urge to run for shelter or to HATE what the conditions were bringing us... But to simply say... this will pass... In those moments all you can do is continue walking, and keeping focused... (doing anything else would only drain energy). In that acceptance it didnt matter that the water started seeping into my boots and the poncho didnt withstand the pounching raindrops.

Its true what they say: after rain, the sun always appears... And it did come out...!!!! When the sign for Guillena appeared, showing only 4 more kms to todays destination, the sky was blue again and I was WARM!!!!!!!!! At that same time, Id 'lost' the Australian lady as I was trotting along in my own happy zone and thats was also when I found myself alone for the first time. Wow... I felt so free... as I munched on an energy bar, smiled to the sun, said hello to the cactus and orange trees and waved to all the cars racing by that honked at me as if to say 'Happy Camino!'.

At that stage, yes my feet were aching, my socks were soaked with both sweat and rain... but my body wasnt exhausted. That was probably due to seeing the town of Guillena way off in the distance, but coming closer and closer, with each step.

I made my way through this beautiful typical Spanish village... the white houses were like a postcard and it was so peaceful; Siesta of course!!! It was only 5 hours after I said goodbye to the owner of the hostel in Seville. Great timing!!! I soon found the Albergue - the hostel especially for pilgrims.

As I walked in, I felt I entered a community of wandering souls... all doing this for different reasons, all with different levels of fitness and all with different stories and experiences to share. I realized within minutes though that I wouldnt have the privilege of hearing their stories, as there arent any English speakers.(My German has been coming in handy, even if its not up to scratch.)

For the first time tonight Ill be sharing a dorm room with 9 men - all above the age of 55 or 60. What an interesting scenario. Tomorrow morning everyone will set off again, heading for the same destination, yet at their own pace and with their own individual reason for walking. As will I.

So... reporting from the local library in Guillena, after the first 24kms, Im going to be seeking some dinner, some compeed (for my blistered feet) and Ill follow that by some lovely sleep (with earplugs... because I can only imagine the music that 9 sleeping/snoring men can make!). I wonder what the next legs will bring! It will only be amazing, seeing as my legs will always carry me onwards.