Return

Near Rabanal del Camino, 244 km to go.

Photo by Fritz Jr

EPILOGUE
A pilgrim returns with something from the way; Luna wore her silver shell, Rosa carried the wooden stick carved for her by a wizened old man in a faraway village, and I brought a miniature copy of the silver incense burner from Santiago as well as our shells and Compostelas. Together,  a mother and her two daughters, we returned with  a bond that we didn't have before we left home, a bond forged in our muscles and in our bones with the act of walking. We had a renewed sense of our own family, different but grounded in our experience away from home... the girls reconnected with their Galician roots. Starting off on our own, we ended up with our our Camino family, and that gave the girls the understanding that it is possible to go out into the world and find kindred spirits, to find their tribe. In many ways, the cliche holds true, pilgrimage is like a microcosm of life.
   
We raised $6,000 for MS Research Australia and gratefully acknowledge those who contributed : family, friends and others. 

Blanca in Biarritz

Rainbow Milestone

Near Rabanal del Camino

Photo by Fritz Jr.

Home.nl

Pilgrim hat and Fritz the Pulpo

At O Cebreiro, the first village in Galicia

Torta de Santiago, celebration tonight

20 km to go

Hi Everyone, we appreciate all the emails, sms and phonecalls checking to make sure we´re ok....sorry haven´t posted on the blog for a few days, a week?, perhaps longer. we´ve been walking and walking and walking on the Camino and tomorrow we reach Santiago de Compostela. it is incredible that we have almost reached our destination. the last two days were hard, 26 and 28 kilometres respectively in heat, ´muy calor´, the locals would say as we passed them. Very hot. We were on the road for around 12 hours, Rosa and Luna are now famous for their stamina and smiles in the evening after such long days. After Astorga (perhaps my last post?) we found our amorphous caravan of pilgrims, the people who are on the same path at about the same speed. we catch them here and there, have a coffee, swap notes about places to stay and body pains and perhaps share a dormitory with in the evening. the girls love walking with other people, especially Rosa Chat-a-long, and the kilometres do tick over more quickly if you are in conversation, connecting and learning about other people and places.
Our fellow travellers include Canadians, Brazilians, Danish, Korean, Italians, Spanish and...Australians: Emily and Brian, 20 something backpackers from Tasmania who we´ve been crossing for the last ten days and today we met three people from Narooma who are taking a marionette called ´Flem´on a tour of Europe. have to check Flem´´s blog.

I´m sitting in an Albergue in ARCA, people are shouting at some cyclists going by. Everyone is relaxed because we only had 20 kilometres today and we have 20 tomorrow. The girls and I have a private room - pink - tonight so we can set our alarm in the morning. After been woken up by a Kraftwerk synthesis of an ambulance siren next to my head at Rabanal del Camino in the mountains because some guy wouldn´t wake up to turn it off, I fastidiously avoid setting my own alarm. Luna wants to leave at 6 so we get into town early with everyone else.

Will try to post again later. have to get to the pharmacy before it closes because the heat brought on the blisters for most of us and I need to get a sterile needle.

oh yes, i did a rough calculation - about 428 kms since we left St Jean Pied de Port.
hasta luego and love, Josephine, Luna y Rosa

The Day of the Third Mountain

One of the reasons I haven´t posted on our blog for the last few days is that we´ve finally joined up with our caravan. We are walking from one place to the next at the same pace - more or less - as a group of other pilgrims and while we don´t walk together our paths cross and we often eat in the same restaurants or town squares in the evening.

Today we climbed our third mountain range to O Cebreiro, the ´mythic´village on the Camino, just over the border between Castilla-Leon and Galicia where some miracle associated with the Holy Grail happened in the middle ages. Luna and Rosa who are one quarter Galician are coming home. From now on, we have a gentle descent towards Santiago, about five or six days away.

The road is busier except that we leave around ten in the morning so we miss the pilgrim peak hour. Most people in the Albergues are in bed at nine and leave at six in the morning. We tried that one day but it didn´t suit Rosa so we have a more leisurely time. Since Astorga we´ve been trailing a couple of Brazilian guys who have more or less the same rhythym. Perhaps it´s coming from the southern hemispere but whyrush?

The problem is that when we come back to the Albergue after dinner all the lights are out, and everyone is asleep so that we bumble around looking for a headtorch and toothbrush. Tonight Luna growled at me as I approached our bunk bed. ´Mum you forgot to put the sleeping bags out before we left.´ There is no way that I could extricate the bags from my superlight, supertight pack without scrunching some plastic and scraping the zips and possibly annoying the neighbour. Earplugs are possibly the most important equipment on the camino.

Walking along today Rosa concluded that it was OK to do a few bad things before we get to Santiago because all will be forgiven in this Holy Year. ´´I don´t think you should do too many bad things Rosa!´ Coming down from O Cebreiro a scuffle broke out between the pilgrim sisters. One threw the other´s chocolate in the dirt and the other used her Leki women´s walking stick as a weapon. A jab in the left leg and a few tears and we walked on. There isn´t any other option but to keep walking.

Yesterday was the day of all days. We arrived at the base of the last mountain late afternoon and happened to meet up with Brian and Emily from Tasmania. Emily is one of Rosa´s chat-along buddies. We climbed through wet forest. My favourite flowers - daisies and forget-me-nots - were scattered in the wild amongst moss and ferns. We trod on the old stone road, part of the ancient Camino. Half-way at La Faba we stopped at one of fountains placed along the way but this one looked dodgy so I went into a neighbourhood shop to get a bottle of water and ended up tasting the local red and a slab of sheepmilk cheese.

´Better go. We have to get there tonight.´ Through heath and brush we climbed, rows of mountains, some snow-capped, receding into the distance all around us, that luscious soft light of the evening. The first building we saw a typical circular brush-roofed pighouse and all the beasts were standing around waiting to go in for the night.

Our Albergue for the night, owned by a woman called Luz Divina (Divine Light) was in a stone building in a typical rural pueblo. We are in a loft room with 8 beds and three are ready for us. There is a washing machine line and warm wind. A cow almost walks into the bar when we are having dinner. A grey dappled pony is tied up outside. Dogs everywhere. Rosa is in heaven. I love the clear skies, mountain air and rural scale. The perfect place to stay before starting the final part of our journey.

Astorga

I woke with a start. People were moving around me. It must be after 6. I´d better get up and wake the girls. We were walking to Rabanal de Camino, 21.4 kms away up a steep mountain and I wondered whether Rosa was up to it. It had taken me ages to go to sleep. I had thought it was lucky there that were four free bunks together when we arrived until the man next to us started snoring. No coincidence. Checked the time and it was 2.39.

By 7, Luna was ready to go. A beautiful sunny morning with a snowy bite. There were more people on the road than we were used to which suits Rosa-chat-along I think she could walk hundreds of kms without realising provided that she has someone to swap information and experience with.
´The weather is going to get better and better over the next ten days´an American woman said.
´It´s still cold. I don´t have my gloves´, Rosa said.

We made it to Rabanal and it´s time to post this blog because the girl´s want to move.

Hasta manyana.


14 MAY - THE DAY OF FEVER AND REST

Look at that rain! It´s because you´re sick Rosa that we don´t have to walk in the rain today,´I say as we drive from from Leon to Astorga in an ALSA bus.

In Leon the night before, Rosa´s temperature had soared with no obvious cause. She was probably fighting off something we´d come across along the way. Luckily I´d found us a deal for 2 nights at the phenomenal San Marcos Hostel, a pilgrim hospital and headquaters of the Knights of Santiago that was renovated in the 16th century at the height of the Spanish Renaissance. Rosa could sweat out the fever in luxury while keeping an eye on the pair storks who were tending their babies in a gigantic nest outside our window.

By the morning the fever had subsided. I off-loaded some clothes and books at the local Post Office near our hotel, thinning down and getting ready for the second stage of our journey...and rather than walking we to Astorga we took the bus through the rain. As soon as I saw the intact Roman walls at the base of a rose-stone Cathedral and greyish Gaudi neo-Gothic palace I knew that we were driving into Astorga.

You should stay at the Albergue San Javier,´´´the Spanish woman in the bus-seat in front of us said in perfect English´. I had planned to go to another Albergue but thought these directions were too clear to ignore. And Marc Grossman, the Australian expert on the Camino (see his website www.caminodownunder.com) also recommends the San Javier and lunch at the Hotel Gaudi.

Marlies sat at a round table at the Albergue San Javier looking at the Credential´s of three other pilgrims. She was handing out cards for lunch at the Gaudi Hotel on the square opposite the architect´s Bishop´s Palace.
´That´s where we´re going for lunch. We´re starving´, I said.
´Give me your Credentials, leave your packs here and go now´ she said in English with a soft German accent looking at the clock. It´s twenty to three...

An Albergue is a place to stay at low cost that follow the tradition of hospitalityfor pìlgrims that is older than a millennium. Some are run by religious organisations, others by public organisations like the local municipal council and there are networks of private albergues. For the rest of our journey to Santiago we will stay mostly in Albergues.

The girls didn´t want to leave the cosy atmosphere at the San Javier in Astorga - even to visit the Museum of Chocolate. They love sitting round talking to other pilgrims about where they come from and where they are going to.
´This is the best part of the day for me,´Marlies said placing a big log in the fire.
Around 7, the masseur arrived, put his table in the middle of the triangular area around the fire and he worked on tired bodies one after the other until about ten.

Leon Cathdral

12 May, Logrono to Leon, The Day of Disorientation

Is it true that you only really appreciate something when you lose it ? Today we left the Camino de Santiago for a few hours to take a bus from Logrono to Leon. This had always been the plan because we have only three weeks and at our pace it would take 6 or 7 weeks to complete the 796 km walk from St Jean Pied de Port. We had wanted to start in France at the traditional beginning of the ´Camino Frances´Pyrenees and to end in Galicia so that we could visit Felipe´s family there again. When I read the _Camino Footsteps_ by Kim and Malcolm Wells, I came across the idea of jumping across the meseta - the long, flat unsheltered section between Logrono and Leon.

Other people I talked to suggested that it might be better to start the walk closer to Santiago to do it in one go because in that way you end up moving in a loose caravan of people, such camaraderie being part of the experience. One woman with a lot of experience warned that everyone meets a special person on the Camino and that if you jump around you might literally mess up the timing of that opportunity.

After 9 days on the path and a lovely morning strolling along the arcades of Logrono - a bit like Rue de Rivoli in Paris - and a tortilla sandwich at the Cafe Moderne, we headed for the ALSA bus depot. As we waited in line I discussed our destination with the girls and realised that rather than going to Burgos, described as a ´´veritable architectural jewel´´as planned, it might be better to go all the way to Leon so that would have two nights in one place...
´Mum, we´ve already seen a lot of churches!´´
´But this one is extraordinary, the finest Gothic...
´´Mum,
´So look out the window as we go, don´t play on my iPhone so you see the countryside we are passing through¨.

Burgos was the one town I wanted to visit but we did pass the Cathedral when we drove through. I or we can come back another time to walk the middle section ofthe Camino Frances. Most Spaniards do it in stages over a number of years, often just a week at a time. And a German man we met in Orisson, Werner, had been doing 3 week stages from Germany for a couple of year. He told us that he would finish in Logrono this time and come back in the European Autumn to finally reach Santiago.

Even though I read my guide by John Brierley as we drove across 10-12 days of walking in 4 hours, I had a visceral sense that I was losing my way: losing the yellow shell markers and the notion of being in an amorphous flow of people heading over time and space to the same destination. This is the experience of pilgrimage and whether one is doing it for religious reasons or not, it is an intensely human experience: the goodwill encountered along the way, the connection with nature and learning that it is possible to cross large distances on foot by taking a section every day, step by step. My legs were remembering my childhood on the Northern beaches of Sydney where the public transport was minimal and we walked alot especially in the holidays: the 8-10 km from Newport to Palm Beach and back in a day was not unusual.
Luna and Rosa can´t quite believe when we look at the map of Europe that they have walked so far : from France through Pamplona to Logrono, the red line is about 4 cm long!

As Luna and I walked from Irache to Los Arcos the day before, Luna told me that she´d read in a book that Australians are known for just jumping in and doing things...she found that interesting. We are meeting people from all over the world every day and play geography games as we go. Rosa´s current favourite is the capital city game. She is becoming adept with European and Asian countries so we have to imagine African and South American boundaries. Conceptually a border is one thing but when you actually walk along the barbed wire fence and cross a cattle grid from France to Spain it takes on a material significance. In Spain, there are the autonomous regions (14 I think) and we have walked through Navarra and part of Rioja, will bus across most of Castilla y Leon and walk through Galicia. In the mornings we find a nice ambulatory rhythym as we go through the times tables: moving ahead for Rosa and timely revision for Luna.

In Leon, Luna and I are returning to the hotel we stayed in with Felipe in 2000 - they had a special offerta on the Internet and it was too good to resist - from the memories of two year old Luna playing in the fountain to the discovery that it was originally built as a hospital for pilgrims in the 12th century. We arrive 1,000 years later for 2 nights of rest and respite to prepare for the 2nd stage of our journey: the 11 day walk to Santiago from Astorga. In Leon, we ffind and follow the bronze shells embedded in the footpath through the city, past the extraordinary cathedral and Gaudi extravaganza - even Luna admits that the stained glass in the ´´high gothic´´ Cathedral is beyond anything she could have imagined. Again despite themselves, the girls are over-awed in the shaded silence of San Isidoro, the 11th century Basilica church.

All afternoon, Rosa has been complaining about a headache but we don´t take much notice. I thought it was probably just an allergy to cultural history but as we start looking for a Tapas bar for dinner, I put my hand on her forehead. She´s on fire.

Felipe sign

Maths lesson between Viana and Logrono

Statue of Pilgrim in Leon

Random Notes from Logrono

Sometimes, I upload a blog post before I´ve had time to edit it in order to maintain the chronology because being on the road, or rather being on the Camino by foot, it´s not always possible to post everyday. Especially when the Tapas bars of Logrono are on our doorstep.

Some notes from my diary which I will probably come back to again.

May 10 The Day of Felipe and Sunshine

Our first day in full sun! We think and talk about Felipe all the time but today was special because Rosa was telling me about helping the nurses in Amsterdam as we walked along in the morning. How she helps to wash her Dad in the morning and to give him the fruit drink which Nelletje and Jo make for him. Ít´s yummy, I like it too,´she said. We were approaching a large white advertising board sign on a hill. ´Look Mum, that says Felipe.´Spray painted on in black in capital letters, perfectly, FELIPE.

11 May

After a 19 km walk from Los Arcos to Viana on the 10th May, the girls and I arrived at our hotel exhausted. The last 9 kms seem to have taken an eternity. As we came over a peak marked by the ruin of a pilgrim refuge from the middle ages, we encountered spectacular views of the vineyards of Rioja, the city of Logrono and mountains beyond but we hardly noticed them because there was also a sign indicating that we had another 3.8 kms to go. It didn´t seem possible. We had been convinced that our destination, Viana, was around the corner. The metatarsal bones of right foot had been killing me all day, the blister on my left heel was throbbing and Luna´s leg was aching again. When the linear forms of the town finally appeared as Rosa and I propelled ourselves along with our walking poles I feared that I was seeing a mirage. Not the oasis of a desert but the bell-shaped form of the the 12th century Iglesia de San Pedro.

I had booked the only hotel in town, the Palacio de Pujadas with a reknowned Pilgrim´s Menu for lunch and dinner at (3 courses for 9 Euros). Luna and Rosa asked if we could have a slow morning as Logrono, our destination for the following day was only! 9.5 kms. Simultaneously, we saw the sign on the polished mahogany reception desk, ´Massage for Pilgrims´. I didn´t hesitate and within a couple of minutes Veronica was booked for the next morning for the three of us.

There was a sense of distinguished desolation in the ruin of San Pedro, twenty or thirty metres from our hotel window. Behind the facade and entrance - built on the cusp of Romanesque and Renaissance - only emptiness.

That day walking two butterflies had followed us for a few kilometres: one, tiny and turquoise jumped around the dried mud track and the other with spotted orange wings smelled the flowers. After our massage with Veronica who was trained by a doctor7osteopath and is highly skilled - we were relieved of all our pains and ready for another day.

Note, 10 May:

Anyone who wants to do the Camino needs to do the necessary preparation and take responsibility for the journey themselves.

Where is the Playground?

The Sign Says...

Sunday 9 May The Day of Wine and Thunder

´When can we go to the wine fountain?´, Rosa and Feline kept asking from the moment we woke up. Last night we arrived in Irache next to the Monastery and Irache vineyards with the fountain with two spouts: AGUA and VINO.



It was pouring with rain but the two blonde 7 year olds ran down the Camino path to the fountain, stainless steel cups grasped tightly in their pink hands. Feline spat out the first taste and asked her mother why anyone would drink something so disgusting. Rosa who remembered her wine tasting lesson at the Sesti vineyard in Montalcino tried to smell it first and then tasted the young fresh wine that poured out of the spout when she lifted the chrome lever. She wasn´t too happy with it and I have a photo of her with wine dribbling out of her mouth (won´t upload that one as it might be used as evidence). Feline joined in again until the novelty wore off and water fights became more fun.

Lisette wanted to visit the 12th Century Cistercian Monastery because she had studied in one in the South of the Netherlands when she was young. The children ran through the cloisters despite being told the monks like silence but settled down once we reached the church: its blonde stone and austere lines with scall op shells at each corner of the dome high in the ceiling signifying its connection with the Camino de Santiago.

Luna and I set off in what we thought was going to be endless rain but it quickly cleared and we had a lovely day walking through vineyards and wheat past a 13th century bathhouse called Fuente de los Moros because of its Moorish design. The medieval town of Villamayor de Monjardin sits at the base of the Mount of Monjardin which is capped by a castle built into the rock.

We were entering Rioja country, as the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the west and south. We wondered whether to continue on the Camino but ahead I saw a patch of blue sky and light. Luna put on her rain pants and after a few minutes of rain we walked towards the light and by the time we reached Los Arcos it was sunny. Walking into a town, after 19 kilometres on the trail, sticks dragging, all muddy and tired is an experience in itself. People, locals and other pilgrims, greet you with ,Hola, and Bravas! In Los Arcos, the afternoon gathering place is the assymetrical sqaure with no roads running through it, next to the church which was golden in the dusk light. We recognised other pilgrims enjoying an aperitif next to a fountai here children played.

Roman bridge in ciraquai wearing ms research Australia t-shirts

Saturday 8 May The Day of Snails, Bridges and Three Weddings

Rosa always sees the animals. When we were sliding around the muddy track along the Arga River on Friday she saw the dark grey squirrel scrambling up a tree in fright. Yesterday she saw the snails on a dried read.
'Mummy, stop. Look at those.'
Two big light brown and beige snails and three smaller ones arranged around a dried-up stalk of tall grass.
'It's no coincidence we've seen those snails' I said. 'Because we're going along like snails today.'

Luna woke me up at 6 in the morning in agony with a muscle spasm in her leg because the night before she had gone out for a stroll in the cold air in shorts straight after 6 hours of walking. After a hot bath, massage and a morning of reading she was better by lunch time.

I walked back to visit the spectacular Eunate church, a Romanesque jewel located in the middle of fields and forest and reputedly a former base of the Templar knights. It was a bit crazy to do a ten km walk before we started for the day but it was worth it. The French couple who are guardians of the church and live next door told me that it was very beautiful today because there would be a wedding there in the afternoon. And they were right. Columns of white lily's, roses and ivy brought the austere rose stone interior to life. High up, Circular windows of ochre marble diffused the light as it entered Eunate's octagonal space.

Later as we rejoined the Camino in the main street of Puente La Reina (the Queen's Bridge), thunderous fireworks were going off. It was 12.30 on a Saturday. In the Tapas bar of the Hotel Bidean, I asked a man what was going on and he pointed at his ring finger and put his arm around me. I understood. Susie rushed out to video it and came back with reports of crowds of people gathering around the explosive scene, confetti and couscous being thrown and dancing. She could barely see the bride and groom because of the crowds.

In the Bidean we had their famous tomato salad, our favourite pimientos (green peppers cooked in olive oil and salt), and tortilla. A two year old girl called Paola with big black eyes and a navy dress joined us and then ran off to her mother to get lollies for Luna and Rosa.

We stopped to take photos on the 11th century bridge spanning the River Arga and began our days walk at something like 13h00 when most pilgrims are finishing for the day...our destinations were other bridges, the medieval bridge near Lorca, the Roman bridge near Ciraquai where we wanted to take a group photograph for MS Research Australia in their lime green t-shirts. It was slow going and we realised that we wouldn't get to Estella until about nine in the evening. Miraculously, our friend Lisette sent a text message to say that she was in the area and would love to pick up the girls if they felt like a break. Susie and I walked on to Lorca through vineyards - Rioja is not far away - and over bridges.

21st century pilgrim

Alto de Perdon

Luna Riding on the Hill of Forgiveness, Pamplona behind her

The Day of Light and Wheat

Last night after a few plates of tapas in the Bar Txoko on the Placa del Castillo in Pamplona, I was walking down the street called Nueva heading towards our hotel, talking on my iPhone to Felipe´s cousin Emilio, in Galicia, about our impending arrival when a taxi pulled up next to me and inside waving was Susie Lindeman, our friend from Sydney. She had just flown in from Paris to join us for four days. Luna and Rosa were so excited they hadn´t realised they´d been watching the news about the English elections while they waited. We went upstairs to have dinner looking next to the illuminated romanesque San Nicolo church and couldn´t wait to get up to explore Pamplona in the morning. Then the girls and I had the best sleep we´ve had since we started our journey and didn´t wake until eight. then we had to have churros and hot chocolate for breakfast, go to the Pilgrim´s Office to get Susie a credential and stamps for ours and on the way to the Camino de Santiago, a little bit of window shopping. Girls will be girls.

We stayed at the Hotel Maisonnave in the centre of town just near the path for the Running of the Bulls. Even though it is a normal hotel, they gave a huge discount because we arè ´´peregrinos´´ , organised two connecting rooms for us that were newly renovated and this morning they had prepared picnic bags for us to take away. Their cafe/bar on the street with its Hemingway atmosphere was obviously popular with locals. The hotel has even self-published a book on Hemingway... is this beginning to sound like a travel brochure? it´s late here in Puente de la Reina but I just want to write about two new experiences we had today;

1, the light projections from the stained glass windows onto the massive stone tiles of the Pamplona cathedral. Our first sunny morning and we visited the monumental Cathedral at just the right time because the sun was streaming through its celestial array of jewel coloured windows. Susie, Rosa and I walked around quickly - we had to get out of town to start our day´s walk - but the patterns of ephemerial hues were irresistable and I stopped to take a few photos...I thought of the impressionist painters in France wondered if they had also been mesmerised by this effect, for example in the Chartres Cathedral. It also reminded me of new media works like the video installations of Bill Viola.

2. Walking through wheat fields in the hills beyond Cizur Minor : It was so late when we left Pamplona - we all loved it and want to return - that after an hour or two it began to rain and before long we were back in the mud. The consolation was that we were walking through wheat fields leading up to the Alto del Perdon (I think it means the ´´height of pardon´´) a climb of 300 metres in 7 km and leading down into the Obanos valley. I realised I´d never seen the new shoots of wheat in spring when the plants are still short and emerald green. As we went along, Luna and I began to talk about the grains that feed the world and how wheat is the staple of much of Europe along with rye, barley, oats, rice and potatoes.

The things we´re loving as we walk;
- our Icebreaker fine merino layers of singlets, tanks, t-shirts, leggings, socks and underwear. Icebreaker is amazing because it keeps us warm and dry in all conditions from the blizzard to a sunny day. I´ve been surprised to see so many hikers wearing Icebreaker: it´s from New Zealand but in the last year or two it´s gone global.
- our hiking boots, we couldn´t do this without our Scarpa (Luna and I) and Meindl (Rosa) boots. they keep our feet dry and supported
- our technical fast drying hiking pants that are lightweight yet keep the water and snow out
- technical lightweight hardshell jackets
- my twisted stretch washing line !! becoming an expert surreptitious hanger
- tortilla anytime, hot chocolate (girls) and red wine at the end of the day. Hasta manyana.

White peaks around us all day remind us where we have come from

Luna and Rosa getting into the rhythm

From Zubiri to Pamplona

6 May, The Day of Mud and Slugs

4 may 2010

We´re on the front page of the Diario de Navarra!

Yesterday, as we struggled against the snow and the wind crossing the Franco-Spanish border and the Cize Pass, a man split from our group and walked off the path into the snow. I wondered what he was doing until he reappeared around a hairpin bend with a massive telefoto lense. An English woman in our group, Beth, told me that she´d heard he was from EFE, the Spanish equivalent of Reuters and he was covering our crossing...and then in Roncesvalles as we walked in, there were TV crews. That was the moment that we, the group of 39, began to understand that we had done something out of the ordinary. It wasn´t reckless because we had an seriously experienced guide, Jean Jacques Etchandy from the Orisson Refuge, but it was tough.

When we stopped in front of the finely articulated doors of the 13th century church to regroup, I congratulated Luna and Rosa ´Do you realise you´ve just done an amazing thing - you´ve crossed the Pyrenees on foot in a snowstorm and you´re only 12 and 7 years old. Íf you can do that, you can do anything´. Rosa ínstantly wanted me to elaborate on what I meant´by ýou can do anything. I could have said ´like Charlemagne, Roland and Napoleon´ but that would have lead to more questions and all I wanted was a cup of tea.

Today when I arrived in Zubiri after a solo walk of 22 kms from Roncesvalles through wet snow, mud - and verdant beech forests - Lisette (our friend who joined us for 2 days with her daughter Feline) and the girls met me with the daily newspaper _Diario de Navarra_ in their hands. Rosa and I are walking across the front page with our poles, my hand on her shoulder, followed by three others in our group. The headline : Pilgrims come down from Ibaneta on the coldest day in May in 130 years.

La Posada in Roncesvalles

Day 2 : Orisson to Roncesvalles
Tonight we're in Roncesvalles staying at La Posada, a restaurant and simple hotel for pilgrims who have just crossed the Pyrenees - the main building in the village is a monastery with a 13th century church. There is also an albergue for pilgrims and two small hotels, Casa La Posada and Casa Sabina.

People are standing around the fire drinking hot tea with rum, as we shake the snow off our legs and enter the bar. Luna and Rosa have apricot juice, tortilla, olives, chicken bouillon, cheese sandwich, cake and hot chocolate. I'm surprised to find that there are 2 computer terminals in the bar with internet access at 1 Euro for 20 minutes and open Wifi. I sit down to check my email and think about filing my blog, have a cup of tea and then a coffee. In the meantime, a succession of retired couples from Quebec and France sit down at the adjacent terminal to file stories on their blogs and upload photos about their morning's journey to Roncesvalles. Most came along the low road from St Jean Pied de Port because the Cize Pass was closed but one couple were in our group - the 39 people who had stayed at the Orisson Refuge the night before.

Day 1 : St Jean Pied de Port to Orisson
At 770 metres above sea level, the Orisson Refuge is the half way point for those who want to take the more spectacular Route de Napoleon. Normally, it is a 2 or 3 hour walk from St Jean but Luna, Rosa and I had arrived exhausted on our first day because we had taken nearly 5 hours to get there. As we walked out of St Jean at 12.30 pm, we were busy talking to three Korean girls in bubble-gum coloured ponchos and we all missed the easy-to-find turn to Orisson. After realising our mistake the Korean girls turned back to retrace their steps and I decided to go on and rejoin the route further on. If only I'd been reading the map correctly...with a certain amount of luck and a lot of help from some local farmers, I discovered that I was totally off track. We spent an hour or two walking along country lanes, in the rolling verdant slopes of the Pyrenees with only sheep for company and the odd house white, with blood red roofs and window shutters. 'You're a long way from Orisson but you can get there this way. Just keep climbing,' the farmer with grey hair and a large timber door said. 'Take that road and then the first left and keep climbing. Then ask someone else.' He forgot to mention that there was a fork before the left turn and that the houses are few and far between. I had to centre myself and get in touch with my instinct rather than give in to the sense of despair as the girls became tired and it was past three o'clock. Did I mention in my last blog that I hadn't done much 'internal' preparation for the Camino? Our first two days turn out to be mid-week tests...and at this point I'm failing miserably.

To get back to Orisson: it is 'demi-pension' so after the hearty dinner of vegetable soup, roast lamb with baked beans and warm Basque cake, the owner of the refuge, Jean Jacques Etchandy the owner and experienced mountain guide, told his guests who were sitting around two long tables that rather than sending us back to walk on the low road he would guide us over the mountains and bring us to Roncesvalles.

Luna has written about the Crossing on Day 2 in her blog entry and I'll perhaps write another version tomorrow

Rosa Heading To The Cize Pass

Help, My iPod Just Froze

gee, thanks for the good luck NOT

Luna writes: let me tell you before you try to do this stupid walk, that it is TORTURE! and i'm not just saying that, i mean that it is actually torture. take today for an example: we had to walk 20 km (5 hrs) up the pyrenees mountains (which are REALLY steep) and just to make it worse it was snowing and we just happened to only have summer walking gear on AND NO GLOVES!!! well 5 mins into the pyrenees i realised that i was freezing (gee, what a suprise IT WAS ONLY -2), after an hour i realised that my whole body ached, after 5 hrs i couldn't walk (literally). my arms felt like they were going to fall off (and i wasn't even using them, they were stuffed into my pockets/which was one of my many attempts to get them warm/DIDN'T HAPPEN), my legs, well don't even get me started on my legs, you know that feeling that you get when you've just finished the cross country and your boiling hot and you can barely breathe and your legs are killing you? well multiply that by 1000000000 times and take away the boiling bit, add the ABSOLUTELY FREEZING bit, add the your whole body feels like it has exploded bit, add the your walking up an ever ending mountain bit and keep all the rest. and just to make everything better NOT a blizzard started when we were at the bottom of the mountain and you had to DEAL WITH IT!!!!!

thnx every1 i have to eat now (thank god) so bye

xox

Risque de Neige

The day that has involved so much preparation has arrived...we leave St Jean Pied de Port (175 metres)this morning for Orisson where we will stay in a refuge and then continue the next day over the Cize pass - the opening between France and Spain which has been used for millennia by travellors including the Romans, Visigoths, Charlemagne's armies, and millions of pilgrims in the middle ages - to Roncesvalles (1430 metes). Today, we're taking the path called the Route de Napoleon because he took his troops through it one cold and wintry day. It is the harder of the two paths across the border but of cours the more beautiful one. If the weather is really bad tomorrow, we'll have to change plans:

I just checked the French 'Meteo': Col de Lepoeder avant Roncesvalles ; 'Risque de Neiges a Certain Epoques' in a bright yellow bar; = Risk of Snow at certain Stages. Snow in itself is fnot the problem if we had the gear for serious snow and ... but the path iself and especially the descent become more dangerous.


I don't know whether i've done the internal preparation,seem to be finding other things that need doing. Guess i will only know once we start walking. I haven't answered the question; why am i doing this ? but I did have a glimpse
last night over diner with the girls. Will wrte later when I dot ha to use a klutsy Frenchkeybord which misses randm letters becase it can't keep upwith my speedy typing.

It,s 10.02 am. I'm going to wake the girls and get them ready for an 11 am departure via the Post Office where we send 2 boxes/ one to Pamplona and one to Santago. The hardest item to part with ? our blue jeans!

Fwd: Good luck girls

Begin forwarded message:

From: Josofia Bronte <josofiabronte@gmail.com>
Date: 2 May 2010 14:12:05 GMT+02:00
To: nicky <nickygrieve@gmail.com>
Subject: Re: Good luck girls

deatrNicky and Bella thanks so much for donations _was great tofind them as we start the walk; arrived here last night after train fromparis. the town of st jean is fabulous - a walled town and totally basque.rosa and i went to basque mass this morning at 8.30. the singing was amazing. today we are staying in place with computer socan email; i think they have skypetoo.

tomorrow we startthe walk and there is supposed tobe snow in the mountinans so that willbze interesting. rosa can't believe we are walking over the mountains around us. both girls loving basque food and eating heaps of lamb and duck. in case you didnt realise i amusing french keyboard which is quite annoying§

lots of love and send so,e news about fiar etc.

j.l,r

On Sat, May 1, 2010 at 10:26 AM, nicky <nickygrieve@gmail.com> wrote:

Good luck girls Hi Jo, It was the St Caths fair today so it was a long day but I saw so many people who asked about you. Everyone was excited that you were starting today. So good luck bon voyage, happy tramping etc. Wishing we could be with you but we are with you in spirit. Lots of love Nicky View profile for nicky » This message was sent to you from nicky who discovered you on OUR WALK FOR FELIPE. If you choose to reply to this email, nicky will see your email address. You may also choose to stop receiving messages from nicky or stop receiving messages from all visitors on OUR WALK FOR FELIPE .

We're on our way

First post from my iphone on the thalys train from Amsterdam to Paris and it feels clumsy on this little screen. When I woke the girls at 6 am, rosa said 'luna, we'll have to get up this early every day on the walk.' we put our packs on together for the first time, laced up
our boots and wavered down the rechtboomssloot and onto the prinshendrikkade heading towards central station through piles of orange garbage bags and broken glass. Yesterday was the party of the year and the cleaners are on strike for another 20 centsan hour. I smelt mariuana and noticed a joint in the hand of a man wearing a cream linen suit in front of us.Along the corridors of the centraal station lines of black and grey clad people crouched along the walls covering their eyes with their hands. At the office, the sun shines on us, we can travel first class so we don't have to stand all the way to Paris.Gracias!

Manyana...El Camino

We leave tomorrow. It's 12.13 am and we have to get up at 6 to get a train at 7.10. I should go to bed so just writing a few words because it is an exciting moment. Over the last few days, I've been reading over my books on the Camino: Marc Grossman's CaminoDownUnder manual which is an intelligent and comprehensive resource, Camino Footseps with its gentle insights and what is known as the best guide for the actual walk in English : John Brierley's Pilgrim's Guide to Camino de Santiago. They all say that we should take some time to reflect on 'Why am I doing this?'

Amazing news is that we have some friends joining us : Lisette and Feline from the Hague from the 4th to the 6th of May and Susie Lindeman from Sydney from the 6th to the 10th of May.

In The Hague, v2

TRAIN TICKETS
Procrastination. Why - when I have been planning for months to leave Amsterdam to start the Camino on the 1st of May - hadn't I booked the train tickets to St Jean Pied de Port? I'd looked up the website in Sydney but didn't go through with the booking because I thought it would be better to get the tickets in Amsterdam - perhaps I'd find another random deal like last year when we travelled to Paris first class for half the second class rate. After we arrived in Amsterdam, I put it off again until we came back from Italy because there just wasn't time with all the bike-riding and visits to friends...then there was the volcano in Iceland.

It was only yesterday, when I finally looked up the NS.NL website again, that I began to panic. Only 5 days from Estimated Date of Departure and they include Queen's Day on 30 April, which is such an anarchic public holiday that all international trains from Amsterdam Central Station are cancelled for 24 hours. Everyone goes crazy, wears orange, drinks beer and the whole country becomes one rolling garage-sale.

And this year, Dutch school holidays begin on the 1st of May so most locals want to have their cake and eat it - like us - and are planning to go to the national party and then leave first thing in the morning. That means a mass exodus of sun-seekers from the Netherlands heading south. The scenario worsened when I discovered that across the rest of Europe including France and Spain, the 1st of May is a national holiday (like Labour Day) so transport schedules will be limited. And because of the volcano, many who would usually fly have decided to go by train.

I realised with sinking feeling behind my solar plexus that this time I might have blown it and worse still, this time, I've committed online to start out on the 1st of May to all those wonderful people who have sponsored our walk.

The International Office at Den Haag Central Station closes at 17.00 on Sundays. I arrived with my friend Lisette at 16.30. When '74' lit up in red on the LED screen, I dared to hope that we would find a solution. The ticket-seller, a petite woman, with neat brown hair and dewy skin tapped her keyboard with the confidence of someone who has spent '25 years at this desk'.

'There are no places on the ten o'clock train to Paris. And on the seven o'clock there are only standing room places to Paris,' she said. 'You will be standing up all the way to Paris.' Four hours being squished up against our bags in the body-width aisles, elbows in the belly as people walk through the carriage and jittery girls.
'What about Bayonne?' I asked. 'For the children and I'.
'On the TGV there are places but what do you mean there are children, I thought you said 3 people? I'll have to look for children's places. Yes...'
'I'll have to take them.' I said. Lisette's blue eyes darkened. She had been hoping to join us for the trip south with her daughter as part of an Interail holiday but had just discovered that it wasn't going to be possible. 'We have to leave, I have no choice.'

LISETTE
When I first moved to Amsterdam in 1994, I arrived with one suitcase, a new demanding job and nowhere to live. Some friends of a new friend agreed to lend me - who they'd never met - their sunny two floor apartment on the Binnenkant, 'the inside side' of one of the fattest canals in town. I loved it so much that I didn't look for anything else and on the day before they were due to return, I realised that I'd run out of time; that I had to find an apartment that day and preferably in that street. It was a balmy summer's day, which I later discovered was not normal for July in Amsterdam, when I walked out the door and noticed a 'Voor Huur' sign on the building next door. A woman in her late twenties opened the racing green door :
'Hello, I'm Josephine, just wondering...do you know anything about the apartment for rent?'
'Yes, I'm Lisette, come and have a look. I'm just moving out of it now, downstairs.'
The second floor loft had a shiny yellow oak floor with three large windows onto the canal. 'I like it. Do you know how much?' 'I'll call the 'huis baas'. You can keep the curtains if you like, they don't fit downstairs, they're new,' Lisette said as she passed me the phone. Within two minutes I'd made a deal with a stern Mr van Gaalen, and the next day I had my own place in Amsterdam.
One night a few days later, Lisette rang the door bell at about nine. 'Come down, the people next door have put some good furniture out on the street.'

Felipe moved in 1995 and two years later we returned after our summer holiday in Australia to discover that not only was Lisette pregnant but so was I. Rutger and Luna were born within a week of each other but shortly afterwards Erwin, Lisette and Rutger moved to Spain and we moved to Sydney. Now, Lisette, Erwin and their three children live in the The Hague.

Every time we come to the Netherlands, Luna, Rosa and I spend at least one night with them. This year, we were there for 'Oud en Nieuw', New Year's Eve which is the other time of pure pandemonium in this otherwise rational and pragmatic country. The whole night was like a war zone with fire works going off continuously all over town and beyond. Luna looked at me with disbelief when I told her that she could go out unaccompanied with Rutger and the 'kids in the hood' and....they had their own fireworks...we all ended up around a massive bonfire of christmas trees and old furniture at the local intersection at midnight, children's eyes covered with hard plastic goggles.

Nearly four months later, we are back in The Hague and last night, we went to the annual festival of Rutger's new high school, the 'Haganum'. It is a 'Gymnasium' which means the focus is academic and Greek and Latin are required material. Lisette had written that the school was like Hogwarts: neo-gothic turrets, grandiose ceilings, Greek friezes and stained glass windows....and old-fashioned science labs with what Rutger described as 'dead babies in bottles'. At the party, larger-than-life Roman sculptures were illuminated from below with various shades on neon and slam-poets screamed in the stairwells.

CEES NOOTEBOOM
I was amazed when I recognised writers on the programme of the 'Haganum Festival'. Alumni of the school were presenting their work and these included Cees Nooteboom, one of my favourite writers initially because the first present I received from Felipe after we met was Rituelen (Rituals) by Cees Nooteboom in Dutch! Nooteboom was an international guest at the Sydney Writer's Festival in 2009 where I bought two of his books: Roads to Santiago about the Camino and a fantastic fairy tale inversion called ...In The Dutch Mountains...He is a writer's writer and spoke eloquently about his work on the Radio National book show. . .

Wearing red trousers and a navy blazer, Nooteboom casually strode through random lines of parents and their mobile-mesmerised teenagers at his old school to read from Rode Regen (Red Rain), a collection of short stories, memoir and poetry. It was the first time, I'd heard him read in Dutch and I found his tone - in his native tongue - more visceral and intimate.

Today I saw in the newspaper - the NRC Handelsblad - that Cees Nooteboom just won the Golden Owl Prize - the most respected literature prize for a book in Dutch or Flemish - for his most recent book. Gefeliciteerd!

Book Crossing

I think I need to create another blog because I keep on wanting to write about non-walk related experiences... It was so easy to leave Italy despite all the warnings. I decided we would do the crazy thing and just head down to Rome the night before, check into an airport hotel (the Garden Hilton), walk over to the airport at 5 in the morning and calmly present our shabby scribbled-all-over e-tickets.

At 5.10 am , when we showed up at the ticketing desk, the KLM rep took a walk, came back a few minutes later and said 'You are on a ten o'clock flight.' It was as simple as that. A bubbly Polish waitress took it upon herself to supply the girls with chunks of white chocolate and almonds while we waited and slept in the soft leather chairs of the SKY BAR. I remind myself that it's always better to wait it out - and try to enjoy yourself - in a crisis until the way forward is clear.

Back in Amsterdam, we found a pile of books left by the previous guests who had been in town for a 'book crossing' convention. On the bottom left hand corner of the books, a sticker was pasted with a little icon of a book with legs and the words:
'I'm not lost! I am travelling. Please read & release me!'
Have you heard of 'Book Crossing?' I hadn't but I picked up 'Canal Dreams' by Iain Rankin and went online to register it at www.BookCrossing.com. Here is my first entry on their website:

I am leaning over the marble sink in the far corner of the kitchen in the tower of a medieval castle in Val d'Orcia, Italy, my iPhone clamped to my ear:
'Who is it?'
'It's S.., Josephine, are you coming back tomorrow?, Josephine, can you hear? the people who've been staying here can't get out of Schipol.'

A body-length away, six people are sitting around a table drinking Brunello di Montalcino and discussing the Pope who is on the television screen in front of them. We had been looking for news on the volcano...
'Speak up, its hard to hear,' I say to the owner of the apartment in Amsterdam.
'If you're not coming back, the other guests can stay on here. They can't fly back to London. Are you coming back?' he asked.
'No, No, We can't come back either. My plane's not listed for departure. I don't think we'll be back tomorrow.'

Two days later, we arrive back in Amsterdam to find a pile of four or five paperbacks next to the black quarto Guest Book. I think about selling them on Queen's Day next Friday but my upstairs neighbour explains that they are Book Crossing books and that I should look on the website. I pick up Iain Banks because I've been wanting to read his writing for a while (even though I doubt that I'll enjoy his work as much as Ian Rankin's...at least they both live in Scotland). Luna is excited to find an Alexander McCall Smith detective story.

In one week, the 1st of May, we leave Amsterdam to start our walk. We have some great news and I'll write about that tomorrow. In the meantime, we want to thank all those who have made donations to Our Walk For Felipe - they are rolling in and it's fantastic to support MS Research in this way.

stranded in italy

on our way back to amsterdam before we start our walk, we were scheduled to leave Rome yesterday but the vociferous volcano, Eyjafjallayokull, has made that very difficult for us. airlines are overloaded, trains are fully booked until next week, no rental cars available, a driver to Amsterdam? 2000 Euros! Now that they're flying again, i'm thinking of heading down to Rome airport at 6 am and taking whatever we can get. but that's exactly what they're telling us not to do.
so we have to find another way, in other words: be patient. luckily, we have friends here - a dear friend of mine of about 20 years, John Bird, who lives in part of an old castle in Val d'Orcia in Southern Tuscany. I'll write more about John in my next blog - he is the most wonderful guide and expert on local food, culture and history in this arcadian valley. And you won't believe that two other St Catherine's girls - Ruby and Eva Lowenstein - happen to be nearby in Umbria so we drove over to see them yesterday while we were waiting for the skies to clear. Luna and Rosa loved sharing spontaneous times with their friends and especially having a break from - ?

being stranded is frustrating and there are tens of thousands of us around the world - we can't wait to get back to Amsterdam to see Felipe again and tell him more about our walk and supporters. We'll finalise our gear and prepare to leave for St Jean Pied de Port on the May 1...That is, we won't be missing Queen's Day in Amsterdam on April 30. Luna is going to blog about that.

for your interest, a message written on many Stone Tablets in this area : Val D'Orcia - UNESCO world heritage : The Val d'Orcia is an exceptional reflection of the way the landscape was re-written in pre-renaissance times to reflect the ideals of good governance and to create an aesthetically pleasing picture. Celebrated by painters from the Siennese school, the Val d'Orcia has come to be seen as icon of the landscape which has profoundly influenced the development of landscape thinking.

the Camino network Part 1

It sounds like a secret society, but the Confraternity of James is an open global network of supporters of the Camino de Santiago. In early March, I googled it (http://www.csj.org.uk/australia.htm) and left a message for the co-ordinator of the Sydney group : Sandra Collier.
Within 30 minutes, Sandra called me back to confirm that the next meeting would be on the 3rd April at 12 noon at the Spanish Club in Liverpool St, where else? the only place in Sydney which provides temporary autonomous zones (TAZ*) for random gatherings of revolutionaries, charities and/or hispanophiles for a nominal charge. As the meeting was so close to our departure on the 7th April, Sandra offered to meet me for a coffee beforehand at Zigolini's in Woollahra where the Italian hot chocolate is as thick as lava.

On Friday 19th March at 5.30 , there was traffic and I was five minutes late. A green-eyed woman wearing a sports jacket was walking out of Zigolini's with trekking poles in her hands. 'Sandra?'
We sat down and like Mary Poppins, Sandra kept on bringing things out of her bag - photocopies of altitude charts, accommodation lists, cultural-heritage maps that we'll find on our way, a Pilgrim's Passport or 'Credential' with the gorgeous colourful stamps from every place you stop, a shell. As I sat there on the sidewalk of Queen St, the trip started to become real, especially the shock that the hardest days would be Day 1 and Day 2 from St Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles; an ascent of from 200 metres above sea level to the Pass Col Lepoeder (1450). Sandra confirmed that there are services that carry backpacks from one accommodation to the next. Make note to investigate. She spoke with the steady voice of a teacher and engaged the girls. It was becoming a reality for them too. They could practice using walking poles at home with broomsticks.

The waitress at Zigolini's having managed to find a place for the chocolate meringue cake amongst all of Sandra's material, announced with an Italian accent and sweet pride : 'I did it - I went to Santiago - I cycled there from Italy, 2,000 kms!'



*Thanks to Peter Lamborn Wilson who coined this term for his cult classic book _Temporary Autonomous Zones_ in the early 1990s.

three days to go

Kent St in the City is becoming my haunt. Today, my project is to buy my backpack. I plan to walk to the Trek and Travel store, at one extreme of the outward-bound precinct, and trawl through the options as I head back to base at Paddy Pallin on the corner of Bathurst St. But then, just as I start out, I'm drawn into Larry Adler and clearly for a reason: Jane who is manager there led Outdoor Ed camps for 20 years and is willing to spend whatever it takes - more than 2 hours - with me patiently trying on a variety of styles, each time with a 5 kg sandbag. Belt first, shoulder straps second and chest strap, third. Then the minor straps which all need adjusting to get the perfect fit. I am embarrassed to complain that the Slimline fit which is theoretically for women, cuts into my chest. 'I'm chunky in the shoulders and upper back,' I volunteer. Those faraway years of surfing in my teens.
'There is a new Ultralite pack by Deuter, but it's for older people."
'I'm turning 50 soon...'
'But you're not 60. Try it anyway.'
'Why would you buy a heavier pack if you didn't have to?' The standard (men's) version is in light light grey with strips of lime green. My colours. And it weighs about 1080 gms, a half-kilo lighter than the alternatives...I keep it on for 40 minutes while looking at jackets, poles and whistles and forget about it. That means it's my pack.

SORRY FORGOT

sorry, i forgot to add a pic on my last blog, but read it below...

XOX Luna

Blog from Luna RE: SHOPPING IN THE CITY

Yesterday: Easter Saturday, we went to the city to go shopping...again. The one street - Kent St - is choco block full of camping, hiking and over all outdoor sporty shops. We went to the city with my Grandad and his wife to go to the maritime museum. But of course we had people who wanted to see us before we go, so mum decided to meet them at Paddy Palin as it is an easy spot to go to. We first met one of my very close friends Lucy and her dad Rob. She gave me a jade good luck bracelet which is very beautiful for me to wear on my trip.

At Paddy Palin I got my basic clothes: Icebreaker Thermal long sleeve, Icebreaker short sleeve, Icebreaker singlet and of course thermal undies... And at Kathmandu we got our sleeping bags and a light weight towel.

HOW EXCITING?......

Then i went to the museum with my granddad which was very fun.

Sorry, my blog is short today because it is Easter Sunday and soon i'm going to see my friend Claudia...

SO HAPPY EASTER ALL THOSE VIEWERS AND ADIOS FOR WEDNESDAY!!!

FELIPE at IF MAGAZINE

we've had some lovely surprises from people we don't know so well...I wrote to thank David Michod for contributing to our website and he sent back this lovely cameo of Felipe at work, a little bit of gold for the girls:

hi guys,

i was editor of IF Magazine right around the time felipe was involved. he came along and turned a relatively dysfunctional organisation into something quite special and he did it in an entirely benevolent, productive and supportive way. IF was a business and it needed to be restructured and run as such, but he always just seemed more interested in the people there than anything else.

i spent an hour with jen peedam this morning followed by an hour on the phone to bec smith, and i'm sure these enduring IF-related friendships owe something to that whole happy, productive family environment that felipe so quietly nurtured there.

anyway, good luck with everything. i hope it all goes swimmingly!

cheers and thanks and please give my love to felipe,

david

blog from Luna... RE: trying our boots

On Sunday (the 21st) Mum, Rosa and I went to Paddy Pallin in the city to find walking boots. When we found the 'shoes' section a lovely lady calle Mel asked if we wanted assistance, of course we said yes because I'm not sure about you but we had absolutely NO idea what sort of boots to chose. Mel picked a few opitions which she thought would be good for our walk and got them out of the storage cupboard. The boots I tried on were really comfy and fitted me perfectly but then i realized that we are still not walking for a few months and my feet have been growing and growing so i may as well get a bigger size. I was amazed to find out that my feet were the same size as mum's! And the bigger size boot was just as comfy but would probably last a bit longer. Mum went through option after option and she was going to leave the shop without buying anything but then me and Mel persuaded her to buy a pair of boots much like mine, but slightly different... Everyday after school, i've been taking of my uniform, putting on my trakkies and a comfy shirt and putting on my boots (which i can tell you are HEAPS more comfy than school shoes. I reckon the walk is going to be heaps fun but i'm going to miss my friends a LOT!!!!!! Thanks so much for all you contributors (or what ever the word is) I must admit that it's pretty cool that we already have so much money going to MS research and we've only had our everyday hero page up for 5 days!!!!! Anyway it's special to me that we raise as much money as we can because as most of you know, my dad has MS... So thanks again everyone.. XOX Luna ;-)

up and running

Wow, we just started sending messages out about Our Walk For Felipe and the response has been amazing - thank you to all those who have sent messages and donated. Our web-based fundraising campaign maybe 'viral' but this virus is life-enhancing - its symptoms are compassion and caring support. Muchos Gracias. As I was walking around the cliffs today I thought how appropriate it is to be using the technology like this because the Internet is Felipe's realm and there were so many times that I saw him start a campaign of one kind or another by sending out a seed message...

Reading about the Camino

To get a visual and experiential sense of the walk to Santiago I found a fantastic book called _Camino Footsteps_ by Malcolm and Kim Wells (2008). Great photos and a text that is descriptive and evocative. You can find it at Berkelouw Books. Lonely Planet covers the Camino well in their Spain book and in more detail in their _Walking in Spain_ I found a book by an English writer, Tim Moore about his journey with a donkey _Spanish Steps: One Man and his Ass on the Pilgrim Way to Santiago_. Hilarious. I found it at the Waverleyl Library (whose catalogue has about 20 hits on 'Camino de Santiago.' Including Paulo Coelho whose book _The Pilgrimage_ documents his spiritual transformations on the walk . Felipe had this book in his bookshelf.

In May 2010, we will walk for three weeks on the Camino de Santiago, the path that has existed since the early middle ages...I see the walk from St Jean Pied de Port through the Pyrenees and Galicia to Santiago de Compostela as a journey of adjustment and acceptance, the transition from one period in our life to another. I don't imagine that it will be easy but I anticipate that it will us time to think, to process, to locate the resilience in our souls and the compassion in our hearts.

The girls' father, Felipe Rodriguez Svensson comes from the country near Santiago and we will be walking both for him, and to him, as he deteriorates physically because of the disease, multiple sclerosis. We hope the walk will raise awareness about, and money for research into MS.

It is something Felipe and I always talked about doing when the children were old enough.