Looking back and moving forward

Thanks to anyone who is still checking in, and my apologies for the belatedness of this final post. It has been a whirlwind but wonderful return to the States. My Spanish adventure has drawn to a close, and the reality of the Camino has now faded into the background. Nevertheless, this has been an experience that I will never forget and, what is more, one that I hope will make a lasting impact on the way I live my life.

Looking back on my time walking the Camino, the things that stick out the most are the people, the beautiful places, and the feeling of elan that consumed me for the duration of my pilgrimage. I loved the simplicity of the lifestyle I was able to lead for the past month. While life in the "real" world unavoidably brings with it many more complications, I believe that there is much I can do to keep the essential things in the forefront and the less important (yet always enticing) distractions in their proper place.

I have set a number of resolutions for myself that I hope will aid me in transferring the best parts about life on the Camino to my life back home. Well aware of the onslaught of work and responsibilities that awaits me at the beginning of the fall semester, I am taking pains (perhaps the wrong expression--really I'm finding it a joy) to frame each day with prayer. In particular, I hope that taking time out in the middle of the day to pray will allow me to extricate myself from the powerful current created by classes, meetings, and projects each day. I am confident that thus taking time out and resetting several times a day will help me to put all things into perspective. A second resolution is take time to enjoy the many blessings in life. For example, I want to make it a priority to eat dinner with my housemates (and anyone else who wants to join) on a regular basis. Likewise I hope to take greater pleasure in the work and activities I undertake rather than simply getting them done so I can check them off a list. Spending some time with people of other cultures had revealed to me just how compulsive Americans can be when it comes to executing daily tasks. True, we are probably one of the most efficient nations in the world, but what good is it to have better services and products if we don't take the time to enjoy them. My Camino friends have shown me how work, even the most routine task, can be made into play. Such things are easy to say but difficult to carry out. Assuredly, this will be a little adventure in itself.

Thank you once again for following our journey. My walk across Spain has come to an end, but the Camino still stretches out before me and before all of us. Many people come to Spain looking for answers or for the impetus to change their lives. Rightly used, the Camino can serve as a springboard to a better way of life. I for one can't wait to see where it will lead next.

The End of the Earth

Yesterday my walk across Spain came to a most definitive end when I hit the Atlantic Ocean. Few times in my life have I experienced such an exulting and yet humbling feeling as I did arriving at the shore of Finisterre, planting my staff in the white sand, dropping my pack, and diving into the ocean. For a time after I emerged from the water I simply lied there on the beach letting the moment wash over me. As I write this, I realize how out of place an expression of time is in describing the experience. There is something about the sea that for me dwarfs all else, even seems to blot out memory. At the first glimpse of the ocean, I felt a world apart from that which I had experienced for the past month. This was something entirely different from the albuergues, blisters, and coffee breaks of the camino. The experience of standing there at the edge of the world with the vast waters stretching interminably before me defied any comparison and dwarfed any thoughts that may have been running through my mind. It was worth the walk.
Eventually I did make the connection back to the camino life. I soon after checked into my albuergue for the night and met up with friends, including some old ones I had not seen for weeks. (You´ll recall Mark from the ¨Fountain of Youth¨.) That evening we prepared sandwiches in the kitchen and then, packing them away with a few bottles of wine and some dessert, climbed to the lighthouse that keeps watch at the outermost point of Finisterre. There we watched a spectacular sunset, singing songs, and continuing the pilgrim tradition of burning a few items of clothing that had accompanied us on the voyage. As we raced back down the hill with the midnight hour approaching, the last shades of blue still persisted in the sky. This would be Barbie´s and my last night with the friends who have walked at our side, some for a few days, others from the very beginning.
I can´t begin to wrap this all up at the moment. I think for now I´ll leave you all with this final image and wait until I´m back home (without time limits on my internet usage) to make my final reflections and perhaps put up a few pictures. In the meantime, keep us in your prayers as we fly home, and I´ll see some of you very soon.

Santiago!

Yesterday morning at 11am we, a group consisting of Americans, Austrians, Germans, Mexicans, Australians, Brits, Swiss, Italians, and Spaniards entered the city of Santiago. Few of us knew each other before we began, but over the course of the past few weeks we came together in such a way that none of us would have wanted to enjoy this moment without any of the others. Together we approached the cathedral, singing and chanting, spiting the rain that fell gently upon our heads. The range of emotions upon our arrival was great. Some were utterly elated. Others stunned. Still others seemed not to know what to make of this moment. One friend, who walked from his home in Switzerland, seemed paralyzed by the moment. For a long time he simply stared up at the cathedral, hands on his head. How does one react when the way of life he´s maintained for over two months suddenly comes to an end? The question confronting all of us at this point is ¨what now?¨
After dropping our things at a nearby pension and resting ourselves for a time, we ventured back out into the city for the afternoon. The first stop for many was the pilgrims´office (imagine going through customs in a centuries old stone building), where pilgrims come to receive their compastela, a certificate acknowledging that one has walked at least 100 kilometers to Santiago. I spent the rest of the afternoon with some friends sitting on a doorstep listening to street musicians and watching children dance in the streets and then later taking a celebratory drink at a sun-bathed cafe. Eventually everyone in our party (perhaps 20 strong) met up in the shadow of the cathedral before walking to dinner in a local restaurant, where we remained eating, laughing, and reflecting on the journey until 11 or so.
Barbie and I and a few others will take today in Santiago and then set out for Finisterre tomorrow. For most this marks the end of the journey. I´m glad I have a few more days to process the past month and to enjoy the rhythm of life on the camino. My journey will end soon enough, but for a while longer the road remains open to me.

Walking a little more slowly

We are now three days away from Santiago. I was caught off guard a couple of day´s ago when one of our friends pointed out just how close we were. It´s hard to believe after living for a month this daily lifestyle of wake-walk-wind down that it could actually come to an end. Nevertheless, I happen to disagree with the common truism that all good things come to an end. My time here in Spain will unavoidably end on the predetermined date, but the seeds have already been planted for a number of ways in which this experience will live on once I return to life as usual back in the States.
Two days ago as I was approaching the end of our descent from O´Cebreiro and the day´s hike, I began having the feeling that there was something familiar about the stone walls lining the path and small farming villages dotting the hillside. Soon enough I stumbled upon incontrovertible proof--a 100+ year old tree at the edge of the village of Triacastella. This tree is the very first landmarker (I´ve passed several by now) I remember from my first experience on the camino. At this point, every day is a walk through more or less familiar ground, yet these two experiences could not be any more different. Our evening in Triacastella was a good one: We attended mass with a priest who was rather unorthodox but teeming with love. A few pilgrims actually shed some tears, so moved were they by the priest and the service. When we returned to the albuergue to bed down for the night, our ears were immediately met with what may very well be the most horrendous snoring we´ve heard yet (no small feet). After a few pilgrims tried to jar the snorer out of his rhythm with whistling and other noises, we simply fell to laughing, so ridiculous was the scene.
The next day found us in Sarria, where the Feast of St. John the Baptist was underway. Really the festivities did not begin until midnight or so, at which time everyone in the town from the youngest toddler to oldest senior citizen was out in the streets celebrating. There were live bands, dancing in the streets, carnival rides, overpriced treats--all of which we were able to enjoy thanks to a permissive hospitalero (person in charge of the albuergue), who agreed to leave a window open for us to crawl back in through once we´d had our fun. Some of you might be reading this thinking ¨carnival rides and midnight carousing--some pilgrimage.¨ I would respond with something uttered by our friend Greg (sadly now departed back to the States). Walking the camino, you wander through the whole spectrum of life, from small provincial towns to big cities and everything in between. No doubt this is a very different experience than that endured by early pilgrims who traversed its many miles on their knees in penitence for their sins, but it has been instructive in its own way and I promise you we´ve all had ample opportunities to atone for our misdeeds.
A final thought for the day. Yesterday I asked Barbie if she was getting excited with Santiago now looming so near. After a pause she replied simply, ¨Not really. I´m just walking.¨ I must admit I´ve been walking a bit more slowly myself since then. As time has passed, my perspective here has inevitably shifted. Coming closer to my physical destination, it´s hard to prevent my thoughts from shifting to the mentality of one running a race. Yet this camino was never about simply getting to Santiago. I came for the walk and for the people I´d meet along the way. I´m grateful to have been reminded of that.

I´ve been to the mountain top

This evening I´m writing in a bar in the town of O´Cebreiro. If you´re thinking that sounds more like an Irish name than Spanish, it´s with good reason. Today we passed into the region of Galicia, which, as its name implies, has been influenced by Gaelic culture. Whatever its origins, this town is unlike anything I´ve ever seen. It rests high atop a mountain looking out over miles of the Spanish countryside in every direction. Hiking here you pass mostly cattle and the occasional small town, most so small it seems ridiculous to have even named them. When you reach the top, out of breath and dripping sweat, it seems something of a dream, so strange is it to see a town this high above the earth.
But how did we get here? Before I get into that, I need to tell you, Maria, sometimes ¨suck¨is in fact an appropriate word to be used in conjunction with the camino. I think Greg used it about 100 times today... and that was before we even got to the hilly part. In all seriousness, one should not think the camino is all roses. Like life in general, it comes with its own trials and disappointments. For example, the past two days I´ve found myself slightly hampered by a bit of tendinitis in my left leg. I´m fortunate to say this is the worst I´ve experienced so far. But we take the good with the bad, and when we reach the mountain top it is all the sweeter for the stubbed toes and aching joints suffered during the ascent. At any rate, Í have not yet experienced pain enough to distract me from reveling in the beauty that daily surrounds me, especially now that that blasted meseta is behind us.
It looks like I won´t have time to recount the past few days, so I want to end with one last thought. Today Greg asked me how it felt to have been hiking for almost a month now. I suppose by now I have gotten into the rhythm of things. Washing my clothes by hand and taking to the road as the sun begins to climb have become second nature. Yet for all that I do find it hard to believe I´ve been about this camino thing for so long. It seems like we´ve only just begun. I think that has something to do with the lifestyle that one develops on this pilgrimage. Each day we live for that day alone, overcoming difficulties as they arrive and basking in the joys and surprises that no previous day could have prepare us for. One of our old hiking friends, an Italian named Alberto, surprised us by revealing his age--37. I would have guessed 29. I am coming to believe that we have more to say about the lives we live than we often give ourselves credit for. I bring that attitude back with me when this particular adventure draws to a close.

A change of pace

This evening I find myself 31 kilometers beyond Leon, which puts us three days ahead of schedule. Since our friend Greg joined us several days ago, we´ve been doing extra mileage (kilometerage?) in the hopes of getting him to Santiago before he has to return to the States for a wedding. Whether or not we are able to make it on time for him, this means Barbie and I should have time to walk to Finisterre (¨end of the earth¨), which is a three-day´s walk beyond Santiago. It will be a victory lap of sorts--a few more days to bask in the beauty of the Spanish country-side and something new, the ocean coast.
Our rendevouz with Greg has brought some changes to the experience, as does each new day for that matter. At the moment our original traveling group has been scattered. Some are ahead, some behind, all still very much in our minds and in the stories we recount while walking or sitting around the dinner table. Greg has brought with him a new energy, which I have seen working upon Barbie especially. I was privileged to accompany my two friends into a music store in Leon last evening (Barbie has been on constant lookout for such places where she might play the piano for a short while). The talent and soul of these two transformed the small commercial venue into a spiritual haven no less moving than the brilliant cathedral we have left shortly before. I was just grateful I to be there in that moment.
Right now we are nearing the end of our journey across the ¨meseta¨, a plateau stretching across northern Spain where the sun burns hotter and the scenery is far less interesting. We are all happy to be heading back towards mountains. Nevertheless, do not think that we have been bored. The stories continue come. On Greg´s first day we met a Finnish man who was attempted to walk the same route we are on in 22 days (we had allotted 34 originally). He told that one morning he and several others actually jumped the walls of the albuergue at 5:30am because the 6:30 opening time was not early enough for them. While we are usually not quite that eager to leave our beds in the morning, I can honestly say that each day I continue to experience the pleasure of waking in the anticipation of the unknown adventures that our sure to unravel in the coming hours.

Cause for celebration

I realized after my last post that I have not been doing a very good job of relating where I actually am at any given moment. Today I find myself in Burgos, a very large city by camino standards. We also happen to be staying in a very nice albuergue. The albuergues (hostels specifically for pilgrims) vary greatly in their comfort levels and offering from spare rooms kept by old couples (more common in France) to government-funded hotels made albuergues, like the one we are in tonight. Never knowing what one will find at the end of a day´s hike teaches one to appreciate whatever blessings do happen to be waiting. Today those blessings are ample.
Today is also a happy day because we have been reunited with some of our earliest friends from the camino. Due to injuries, different paces, varied itineraries and any number of other factors, there is no assurance that I will be walking with a particular person for long. Thus it is a joyous occasion when we are reunited with old friends. Tonight we are going to celebrate by taking dinner at a local restaurant. This is not an every night affair. More often than night, it´s preferable to buy groceries ourselves and cook in the alburgue. Sometimes the decision is made for us, as a small town may not have a restaurant or grocery (or either on occasion). At any rate, tonight we celebrate, and I do not doubt that there will be many such celebrations in the weeks ahead. We tend to find ourselves in the midst of old friends more often than mere chance would seem to have it.
As we continue to make our way across Spain, I am evermore amazed at the plethora of beautiful things and places. A couple nights ago I found myself walking through an old monestary founded by a local don after receiving a vision of the Blessed Virgin. Walking through the enshrined cave where the vision occurred and the garden designed to recall the Garden of Eden, I was simply overcome with awe for the place in which I stood. Passing such places is a common affair on the camino. In nearly every village one can find such old churches, some dating back as far as the 13th or 12th centuries. Such places coupled with the constant greetings of ¨Buen camino¨ serves as a constant reminder that I am walking a holy route, even if not all pilgrims are here for religious reasons.
I´ve got a little time before mass, so I am going to spend some time walking the streets of Burgos, enjoying the symphony of an old yet bustling city in the waning hours of the day. I hope everyone reading this can enjoy a bit of the peace I´m enjoying right now.

The Fountain of Youth

We´ve now been walking for over a week, and time has lost all meaning... or perhaps gained infinitely more meaning. It´s hard to say. I´m finding that I have little concept of what day it is, yet that each day is brimming over with priceless conversations, views, experiences, and surprises.
Some days ago, a fellow pilgrim reported back to me that two of my friends, a German and a Belgian, sent their regards. They were spotted, according to this young man, carousing in ¨The Fountain of Youth¨. The fountain he referred to, while not bestowing eternal youth on pilgrims, does provide them with an endless flow of wine. Yes, you read correctly, a wine fountain for any pilgrim who happens to pass by. Though he may have mispoken, I think there was some truth to the words that young pilgrim uttered. I have met pilgrims ranging in age from 17 to 82, and nearly everyone seems possessed by a child-like energy that is seldom found among adults in society. It´s a beautiful thing. It´s also worth noting that the priests I have been fortunate to hear preach thus far have all possessed an uncommon convinction in their preaching. Perhaps living along this spiritual route has benefits for the local inhabitants as well.
While the wine and energy is ample here, the internet time is not. And so I must sign out again. One last thing though--the warnings about the snoring at night were in no way understated.

My feet haven´t fallen off yet

Let me begin today with the people. Already we have been fortunate to make some good friends on the camino. It´s quite easy to do here. We have fallen in with one crowd in particular-Mark (Belgium), Gabriel and Carin (NY, NY), Remo) Germany, Michael (UK), and a few others. The cast is constantly changing, but you tend to see many familiar faces over time. After arriving in Pamplona yesterday, Barbie and I split off from the rest to attend mass.
Today no one knew what had happened to Mark and Remo. Turns out they bought tickets for the Pamplona soccer match on the spur of the moment, partied into the night with the rest of the city when they won, and then slept outside somewhere where they found grass and trees. They woke up in the morning only to discover that they were lying on the island of a traffic circle with morning commuters driving all around them. A TV crew promptly arrived to interview these two enthusiastic soccer fans.
Stories such as this have abounded already. In general, I am finding the pilgrims to be exceptionally generous and open people. And I do mean open. People have no problem hanging their unmentionables out to dry for all to see (tighty whiteys included) and even walking about in their underwear during the evening hours. While I would not include such moments among the many spectacular views I´ve had thus far, I can appreciate the lack of pretension this implies.
Needless to say, many surpises have occurred along the way. Two days ago we veered from out itinerary slightly at the urging of our new friends and walked 38 kilometers in order to give ourselves a short walk into Pamplona the next day. Just to give you an idea, most resources I had read previous to arriving recommended doing no more than 30k a day. It was a grueling day to be sure, but we made it alright and are no worse for the wear.
At any rate, the 20 minutes my one euro can by is just about up. Please continue to keep us in your prayers.

Well, I survived Day 1

Yesterday Barbie and I managed to make it to St. Jean Pied-du-Pont safely and already with some new friends--one a Portuguese Knight of Malta, which order I did not even know still existed. We spent the night in an albuergue run by a married couple and a rotating crew of volunteers, who are the physical embodiment of the word hospitality. The highlight of the evening was dinner provided by our hosts with the other guests--an event marked by enthusiastic conversation in five different languages with any given individual switching back and forth at any given minute.
Today we made our first hike from St. Jean to Roncevalles, which is supposed to be the hardest of the entire camino.
Despite all the warnings we have heard in the past days about how difficult this hike is, we managed it just fine. Barbie commented that these warnings were coming from Europeans, who are most likely more accustomed to a more laid-back lifestyle. Whatever the reason, though certainly not a walk in the park, today was a pure joy. The vistas were spectacular from start to finish. Hopefully I will be getting pictures uploaded eventually.
We also continue to meet highly unique and highly amiable people along the way. I´d like to give some descriptions, but my time is just about out so that will have to wait for another post. I hope everyone is well. Rest assured, I could not be happier at this moment.

Before the first step

Dear friends and family,

Thank you for taking an interest in my little adventure on el Camino de Santiago. I'll be happy for your thoughts and prayers along the way. In spite of having hiked part of el Camino before, I have very little idea what lies before me... and that, perhaps, is what excites me most. My intention in hiking this storied pilgrimage is to daily place myself in God's hands, come what may. After two years of planning my days literally down to the minute, I relish the prospect of living for a time with nothing but the few items I carry on my back and for nothing but the journey and those with whom I share it. If you'd like more information about the Camino itself and what lies ahead of me, you might check out .

I suppose the most obvious question as I set out is, "Why?" Why put myself through the physical strain of hiking from one end of Spain to the other? Why spend the first month of my summer vacation thousands of miles away from everyone (almost) who knows and loves me best? Why spend the money to get there when I should be paying off student loans? Well, to be honest part of the reason I'm making this pilgrimage is to seek out answers to questions just such as these. Working as a Catholic educator these past two years, I've been assaulted by a barrage of questions about the faith I profess and, particularly, how we go about the work of forming others in that tradition. It is my hope that, in spending some time in the company of those who are seeking God in a very active way, I will gain some insights into how to better bring God to others.

On a more personal level, this particular moment in time marks a major crossroads in my life as I conclude my first significant teaching experience and prepare to entrench myself more firmly in the work of Catholic education. My time teaching in Memphis has elucidated for me some of the troubling issues that confront the Church today. Carrying these experiences and lessons with me, I look to this journey along el Camino as a time to contemplate all that I've witnessed and to allow God to direct me where my next step should be. Also, I've decided to dedicate the trials and joys of this journey to my three siblings, whom I seem to appreciate more and more as time wears on.

I am blessed to be joined along the way by a fellow educator and good friend, Barbie Sloan. Two weeks in we will be joined by a third companion, our friend Greg. I could not hope for better company, and doubtless much of what I'll have to say herein will be inspired by our conversations.

Thanks again for tuning in. Please be sure to keep us in your prayers, and I promise to return the favor.