Click here to visit the map.
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/mwyp
Tuesday 10 September 2013
Google Maps
My cousin Richard has created a Google Maps layer that shows where I stayed each night - it also shows Rupert's progress from when he did the first two-thirds in late April through to early May. I'm the red marker and Rupert is blue. The places where we both stayed in before meeting up in Leon are marked in purple - and the places we both stayed in when we walked together after he joined me in Leon are purple with a dot.
Click here to visit the map.
Also - I'm finishing up my fundraising efforts at the end of September, so if you haven't donated yet then I'd love your support!
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/mwyp
Click here to visit the map.
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/mwyp
Monday 2 September 2013
Thoughts
I finished the Camino just under two months ago, so have had some time to process the whole experience. I don't want to turn this into some sort of lengthy introspective ramble, but here are a few thoughts on the whole business.
HIGHLIGHTS
- meeting a wonderful array of people. Fr. Pierre in Arundy, Chris the maths teacher (and his wife, who's name escapes me), Ron and Kibben the Canadians, Ray the Irishman - we never swapped contact details alas, Jaume the Spanish guy who I spoke to in French for an whole day, David and Haia, and Brenda and Laurel from Texas. And then there were the guys who I ended up walking into Santiago with for the last few hundred kilometres with. The German speaking contingent: Emma and Helga, Nikolaus and Werner; Nicole, Sami and Tommy; and last but not least Team Somerholter - Kurt and Kim, Jonas and Connor. Alas only Werner of the above is close enough for a regular catchup - we've already met up at the Roastery on Wandsworth Road.
- walking over the Meseta. It wasn't as blisteringly hot as I'd feared, and was wonderfully remote. It was about a fortnight into the walk for me so I'd dealt with most of the niggling things like muscle pains and the one blister I had.
- being healthy. 27km a day and eating reasonably decent food was a nice detox from the destruction of exams and essay writing, which are inevitably fuelled by chocolate...
- La Faba - one of the most beautiful parts of the Camino. If you're planning on walking or biking to Santiago make sure you stay there. The Galician mountain stages were stonkingly beautiful.
- knowing I've walked an awfully long way (647 miles or 1042km). It was also really satisfying starting in a place that felt relatively 'home'-like, and every time I go to Lourdes I'll know that in 2013 I walked from there to Santiago.
- being with Rupert on a grand adventure. I always tease him in an overly affectionate way that he is my favourite cousin, and it was pretty amazing being able to do the walk together.
- the first week walking across the Pyrenean foothills. It poured with rain and my only interactions were in French, but the solitude was magnificent.
- equipment-wise, two things stood out: the 'Worldview' shirt I bought from Rohan, almost as an afterthought, but which I ended up wearing (and washing!) every day. Long sleeves were perfect for keeping the sun off my arms, and left undone at the cuffs they actually kept me rather cool. And my Sigg drinking bottle. Very simple - every time I stopped at a tap I drank it empty and then filled it up. Much less mucking around than a camelback.
- and finally the support from everyone who sponsored me. This really did make a difference when the chips were down. Nothing helped me more when my feet were sodden and muscles aching, with unrelenting rain than knowing people back home had given money to charities so close to my heart. Thank you.
LOWLIGHTS
- mountain bikers zooming past at top speed leaving centimetres to spare. Really inconsiderate - just ringing their bell would help enormously.
- taking too much gear. I didn't need a thermarest or sleeping bag, and could have pared things down a bit more. In the end my iPad really wasn't that useful. Mind you, Rupert wins the Beast of Burden Prize - he had his GPS (total waste of time), digital camera, iPod Touch, iPad, Blackberry and Kindle - and all the cords and plugs to charge them. Crazy. (And I don't even want to start talking about why he bought a winter weight insulated jacket with him for a walk in Spain in the summer...!)
- not having a full length Goretex jacket. Not a disaster, but it would have made life much more comfortable during the wet days if my jacket was a fraction longer.
- Terradillos de Los Templarios, which was a a complete dump.
- my feet and knees feeling sore for the first couple of weeks.
- saying goodbye to the Somerholters.
FINALLY
Would I do it again? If you'd asked me that when I got back to Stansted on July 10th I'd have laughed and given a straight refusal. But two months on, I probably would be up for it - maybe on mountain bike from London, or something like that: the memories of walking day after day need to recede a little more before I sign up to doing it all on foot again!
HIGHLIGHTS
- meeting a wonderful array of people. Fr. Pierre in Arundy, Chris the maths teacher (and his wife, who's name escapes me), Ron and Kibben the Canadians, Ray the Irishman - we never swapped contact details alas, Jaume the Spanish guy who I spoke to in French for an whole day, David and Haia, and Brenda and Laurel from Texas. And then there were the guys who I ended up walking into Santiago with for the last few hundred kilometres with. The German speaking contingent: Emma and Helga, Nikolaus and Werner; Nicole, Sami and Tommy; and last but not least Team Somerholter - Kurt and Kim, Jonas and Connor. Alas only Werner of the above is close enough for a regular catchup - we've already met up at the Roastery on Wandsworth Road.
- walking over the Meseta. It wasn't as blisteringly hot as I'd feared, and was wonderfully remote. It was about a fortnight into the walk for me so I'd dealt with most of the niggling things like muscle pains and the one blister I had.
- being healthy. 27km a day and eating reasonably decent food was a nice detox from the destruction of exams and essay writing, which are inevitably fuelled by chocolate...
- La Faba - one of the most beautiful parts of the Camino. If you're planning on walking or biking to Santiago make sure you stay there. The Galician mountain stages were stonkingly beautiful.
- knowing I've walked an awfully long way (647 miles or 1042km). It was also really satisfying starting in a place that felt relatively 'home'-like, and every time I go to Lourdes I'll know that in 2013 I walked from there to Santiago.
- being with Rupert on a grand adventure. I always tease him in an overly affectionate way that he is my favourite cousin, and it was pretty amazing being able to do the walk together.
- the first week walking across the Pyrenean foothills. It poured with rain and my only interactions were in French, but the solitude was magnificent.
- equipment-wise, two things stood out: the 'Worldview' shirt I bought from Rohan, almost as an afterthought, but which I ended up wearing (and washing!) every day. Long sleeves were perfect for keeping the sun off my arms, and left undone at the cuffs they actually kept me rather cool. And my Sigg drinking bottle. Very simple - every time I stopped at a tap I drank it empty and then filled it up. Much less mucking around than a camelback.
- and finally the support from everyone who sponsored me. This really did make a difference when the chips were down. Nothing helped me more when my feet were sodden and muscles aching, with unrelenting rain than knowing people back home had given money to charities so close to my heart. Thank you.
 |
| Rupert boarding the flight back to England |
LOWLIGHTS
- mountain bikers zooming past at top speed leaving centimetres to spare. Really inconsiderate - just ringing their bell would help enormously.
- taking too much gear. I didn't need a thermarest or sleeping bag, and could have pared things down a bit more. In the end my iPad really wasn't that useful. Mind you, Rupert wins the Beast of Burden Prize - he had his GPS (total waste of time), digital camera, iPod Touch, iPad, Blackberry and Kindle - and all the cords and plugs to charge them. Crazy. (And I don't even want to start talking about why he bought a winter weight insulated jacket with him for a walk in Spain in the summer...!)
- not having a full length Goretex jacket. Not a disaster, but it would have made life much more comfortable during the wet days if my jacket was a fraction longer.
- Terradillos de Los Templarios, which was a a complete dump.
- my feet and knees feeling sore for the first couple of weeks.
- saying goodbye to the Somerholters.
 |
| Rupert with the 1989 Camino map Kurt managed to find online - his next framing challenge! |
FINALLY
Would I do it again? If you'd asked me that when I got back to Stansted on July 10th I'd have laughed and given a straight refusal. But two months on, I probably would be up for it - maybe on mountain bike from London, or something like that: the memories of walking day after day need to recede a little more before I sign up to doing it all on foot again!
Day 40: Cee - Finistere
We had a latish start today, as our final day of walking was a mere 12km - a doodle! Chris the tall German army mechanic had been talking enthusiastically about starting out at three in the morning to watch the sun rise, but as we got up we could see his feet poking out over the end of the bed: he'd seen the sense in our starting out later. We'd only have three hours of walking and there was no need to hurry - the plan was to get to Finistere and then walk up to the lighthouse at the end of the peninsular to watch the sun go down.
Breakfast was decidedly leisurely, and when we passed a small cove on the way into Finistere Rupert decided that he wanted to go for a swim in the sea. I hate swimming in the sea, particularly when there isn't a shower to help get the salt and sand off before putting my walking shoes back on, so I pottered around on the beach looking at the beautiful scallop shells.
As we walked the final kilometres into Finistere we passed a Hungarian woman who was walking with her three little girls (aged 15, 12 and 9). They were all lean with wild blonde hair, and the woman had previously walked the Camino from Budapest, a six month venture with over 3600km of walking. This time she was only doing the 160km circular route from Santiago to Finistere, Muxia and then back to Santiago. Rupert said she reminded him of his family's beagle who used to lead her puppies into the wood and train them in following scents and keeping the local fox population on its toes.
The town of Finistere is a few kilometres short of the end of the peninsula, so we decided that we'd have a lazy lunch and head up to the lighthouse in time to see the sun go down. Finistere was very laid back - a few camper vans and tourists, and a lovely contrast to the madness of Santiago. I walked the final four kilometres to the end of the world in my flip-flops, holding my heavily duct-taped shoes in my hands and enjoying the novel sensation of air on my tired feet. It was a beautiful evening - no wind, not sweltering hot, and the sea was magnificently calm.
Eventually someone lit a fire in the fire-pit, and a small number of people lined up to burn things that were significant in various ways. Rupert burnt the hideous baseball cap he'd bought on the Camino earlier in the year when he realised he'd need a sun hat, and I placed my old shoes in the midst of the flames. They'd first started indicating that this would be their last adventure just after Pamplona, and by now they were at the point of needing fresh duct tape every two days. As I walked away from the fire I was interviewed by Dutch Faith TV (I wasn't previously familiar with their work…), although perhaps I wasn't the best person for them to ask about the whole significance of the Camino, with the questioning as follows:
"So do you believe in God?"
"No"
"Ahh, but you'd describe yourself as a spiritual man?"
"Err, not really, sorry"
"Oh! So why exactly have you just walked 1000km from Lourdes in France?"
And so on.
Rupert and I slowly walked back down for our last evening as Camino pilgrims, and had a relatively early night, as the bus back to Santiago leaves early tomorrow morning.
 |
| First breakfast |
 |
| Ursula Andress eat your heart out |
 |
| Spanish large format speed cameras: very retro |
The town of Finistere is a few kilometres short of the end of the peninsula, so we decided that we'd have a lazy lunch and head up to the lighthouse in time to see the sun go down. Finistere was very laid back - a few camper vans and tourists, and a lovely contrast to the madness of Santiago. I walked the final four kilometres to the end of the world in my flip-flops, holding my heavily duct-taped shoes in my hands and enjoying the novel sensation of air on my tired feet. It was a beautiful evening - no wind, not sweltering hot, and the sea was magnificently calm.
 |
| 0km to go. Shoes in hand ready for the inferno |
Eventually someone lit a fire in the fire-pit, and a small number of people lined up to burn things that were significant in various ways. Rupert burnt the hideous baseball cap he'd bought on the Camino earlier in the year when he realised he'd need a sun hat, and I placed my old shoes in the midst of the flames. They'd first started indicating that this would be their last adventure just after Pamplona, and by now they were at the point of needing fresh duct tape every two days. As I walked away from the fire I was interviewed by Dutch Faith TV (I wasn't previously familiar with their work…), although perhaps I wasn't the best person for them to ask about the whole significance of the Camino, with the questioning as follows:
"So do you believe in God?"
"No"
"Ahh, but you'd describe yourself as a spiritual man?"
"Err, not really, sorry"
"Oh! So why exactly have you just walked 1000km from Lourdes in France?"
And so on.
Rupert and I slowly walked back down for our last evening as Camino pilgrims, and had a relatively early night, as the bus back to Santiago leaves early tomorrow morning.
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