Turbo time!

The day after I passed the Cruz de Ferro, I came into Ponferrada. The city is famous along the Camino for its Templar castle, though most of it actually dates to after when the Templars left. It's very impressive walking up to it, with the Disney-esque towers and crenelated wall.

However, it is rather less than impressive on the inside. Basically there's a welcome room where it explains a little about the time period and the different jobs people might have, showing their costume. Much of the explanations are only in Spanish, as is the video, so I basically just looked at how they dressed and read a little about stone workers and carpenters. Then you walk around a bit and this is what you see:

Not much there. There is an exhibition of illuminated manuscripts, which the English teachers I know might appreciate even though none of the manuscripts are actually in English. But they're books. Incredible books. Most of them are larger than books made today, but the decoration on the pages is magnificent! And some are impressive for their size, whether giant or tiny. A few others were impressive for the colors.

This last is a copy of an illustrated edition of The Divine Comedy. You know, Dante...? The Inferno... Anyway, the collection was really cool! Yes, yes, we already know I'm a nerd.

I passed a cliché the next day.

A cat stuck in a tree. How original, right? The swimming hole at the next town was original. I didn't get to go in because I didn't pack a swimsuit (which didn't stop other pilgrims). It would have been nice after the long hot day during which I accidentally took a detour and ended up off the main Camino path, thereby not getting to the town I wanted to arrive in to keep up my walking schedule. And I did have a schedule because I met my mom in Sarria so we could walk together. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I knew I couldn't walk the thirty kilometers required the next day to get up the mountain, especially since it would have been more like forty kilometers for me from where I ended up. So I took a bus with my québécoise roomie, Marie Ève, and then we split the cost of a cab with a young Danish couple. We all agreed it was well worth it to avoid that hike. But here' she little hamlet, O Cebreiro. It has a beautiful view off both sides.

A couple of uneventful days later and I was in Sarria. That's the last easily accessible place you can start walking and get a Compostela, the certificate saying you completed the Camino. It's 112 kilometers from Santiago. I met Mom at the train station in the morning and we started walking, though we didn't go very far the first day. Or the second. Or the third. It was plenty for Mom, though, who has gotten impatient and decided I was slowing her down too much. Tomorrow she wants to go the speed of a taxi.

We did pass the 100km marker and kept seeing these interesting structures. Let's have a contest and see who can guess what they are. The winner gets a million dollar bill!

Nature's beauty wins out over all in the end!

Wait, where's Ferdinand?

La Cruz de Ferro

Today was a big day in significance on the Camino, one of the two big reasons for me coming and walking this summer. The Cruz de Ferro. The Iron Cross.

It is what the name says: an iron cross, but on top of a big wooden pole. It rises above a mound of dirt and rocks. The significance is in the stones themselves because the tradition is that when you walk the Way of Saint James, you bring a stone from home and carry it with you all the way to the Iron Cross. There, you leave it. You might say a prayer, or not. Often the stone represents someone who has died, sometimes with the person's name written on it.

This guy only went to the top of the mound and got a picture because it also happens to be the highest point on the Camino Francés.

It was different for me. I felt the emotions rising before I even saw the cross. For me, it's a big part of the reason I came. I made four stones specifically for this point. I painted them all teal. On three stones, I wrote one of three words: courage, faith, and strength. On the other side is a number.

The fourth stone also has two sides. One says "Survivor" and the other "Thriver." I am in transition between the two.

I put "Survivor" on the side up, for two reasons. One is that the stones knocked together throughout the trip and some of the paint flaked off, and this side is in better shape. But I also decided that it's a good thing, because I'm not quite to the point of being a "Thriver" quite yet, though I am so much closer than I have ever been before.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out this previous post: http://chemin-camino.blogspot.com.es/2014_05_01_archive.html.

I also wrote two things specifically for the moment, which I had troubled over for the past week or two even though I've had almost two months to work on what I wanted to say. I read them out loud, though quietly. They were for no one else to hear at the moment except me and God, though of course he already knew what I wanted to say. The first was more for me despite the word "we," and the other is a prayer. Because though the Camino is entirely an individual journey, I had others in mind even before I started walking.

"I know now that I am strong. We all are, even though we think we are weak, because it is difficult to understand. But we survived.

I survived.

Through all the pain, guilt, and shame, I survived. In struggling I found my strength. I am finding my voice. Little by little.

One pilgrim I met quoted a poet: 'Walker, there is no path. The path is you.'*

There is no magic arrow through healing and recovery because we are each one of us different. So must our paths be different.

We are our own worst enemies. We torture ourselves more than anyone else ever could. We call ourselves names. We tell ourselves we're stupid. We should have done something different, reacted differently.

But not only are these things we say to ourselves useless, they are wrong. We are strong. We are beautiful. We are smart. We are good. We are valuable. We are worthy.

It's time to heal. To open the box and let it all out. To break the silence. To change."

"Dear God,

Lead us in our healing journey. Guide us through the hardships and trials and give us strength to endure when we only want to give up. Help us to understand that others' actions against us are not our fault. Give us hope for the future and trust that it will be all right in the end. We are survivors. Help us to become thrivers. A d give us the courage to speak up, break the silence, and help others to make a change for the better."

I started crying as I read, maybe for what I've lost or who I once was. Or maybe even for all of us who haven't yet gotten to the same point. I don't really know.

For the past few days I have walked while listening to music, but I couldn't do that as I started out today. Today I knew it was different, just because of the Cruz de Ferro. So I walked in silence as I left Rabanal del Camino. And I walked in silence as I left behind the Cruz de Ferro and all that I wanted to leave behind with me along the Camino. Except even as I did, I knew that it will always be with me. This is a part of who I am now and even though it's the hardest thing I've ever done, I wouldn't change it. That might sound strange. After all, who wants to say they've been a victim?

But that's the thing. I'm not a victim anymore. I'm a survivor, on her way to being a thriver. I'm stronger for it. A part of me may have died each time, but I've become someone else and I wouldn't trade her for anything. I am who I am supposed to be. And as for the parts of me that aren't quite there yet... I've been able to figure some things out along my journey this summer.

I did start listening to music after the tears faded: the playlist I'd put together before I left and hadn't listened to for six whole weeks. Some of my favorite songs on it:

1) "I Am Woman" by Helen Reddy

2) "Roar" by Katy Perry

3) "Part of Me" by Katy Perry

4) "Independence Day" by Martina McBride

5) "F**kin' Perfect" by Pink

6) "Suddenly I See" by KT Tunstall

7) "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

And, finally, a perfect ending to a beautiful day.

*This is what I remember. The pilgrim I mention quoted it in Spanish, then translated to French. The phrase I quoted is what I remember and translated into English. It might be from this: http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/289625-xxix-traveler-there-is-no-path-the-path-is-made.

I believe I can fly...

I am now roughly two weeks' walk from Santiago. How is that? Well...

I took a couple of days to get to the next city, Logroño. At a couple of places there were rock gardens. That's the best way I can describe it. Apparently people felt compelled to make towers from rocks. There were also little huts that I suppose serve as shelters in inclement weather.

And about seven kilometers before town, this very friendly and enthusiastic lady had brought food for pilgrims and set it up in the shade. She even gave me a sample of wine. It was technically free, but I donated a euro because it was a nice break, especially since I didn't stop for lunch that day.

The city was decent, but didn't cater much to pilgrims. I walked around a bit and got some good pictures but the cathedral was closed until the evening and when I got back to the albergue I fell asleep. I slept for more than twelve hours! I didn't think I was that tired, but I didn't even wake up to have something for dinner.

Here's a view of the next little town, which was really very nice: Navarette. I decided to stay there even though it was only about 12 kilometers from Logroño because a lady I had met said it had the best church of its kind, loaded with Inca gold. I was imagining something spectacular, kind of at Los Arcos, but was a little disappointed. Yes, the gold altarpiece was magnificent (I got to see it lit up because I happened in during a mass, though I waited until the end to get a good picture) but the church itself was very simple. There were also the ruins of an old pilgrims' hospital on the outskirts before arriving in Navarrete: San Juan de Acre. Not much to look at, but it was interesting.

After that was Nájera. I stayed at a very nice albergue that was right next to the river, so I was able to sit on a bench in the little park and do some writing while sipping a Coke, listening to the water over the rocks and the birds in the trees. Of course this was after I had lunch and visited the lovely monastery by the name of Santa Maria La Real. It was very interesting, actually. There aren't many monasteries that originated with a church that was built around a cave. The cave was actually accessed from the church. Legend says that in 1044 the king, Don García, was out hunting and saw a partridge, and sent his falcon after it. Both birds went in a cave, the king followed, and inside he saw an image of the Virgin Mary with a bell on one side, a lamp on the other, and a vase of white lillies in the center. There's now a statue in there (the Virgin of the Rose) that dates back to the 13th century.

The church was formed around the cave, literally, with statues of Don García and his wife, Doña Estefanía, flanking the entrance. Just outside are several carved tombs that from what I understand ddate back to the Renaissance, though the people inside them are much older (from between 918 and 1076).

There was also a cool statue of a pilgrim dude, possibly because Don García later founded a hostel for pilgrims. There were other tombs in the church as well, belonging to the second line of members of the royal family. One of them is of Blanca of Navarre. For some reason her name sounds familiar but I have no idea why.

They kind of remind you of the tombs from the third Indian Jones movie (The Last Crusade). You know, when he goes under the library, a former church, to find the tomb of one of the Knights Templar who was involved with a legend of the Holy Grail.

Anyway, the part I loved most was the cloister. It was beautiful and sunny, with green grass. There is the Gate of the Tree of Good an Evil, and the tracery openings (the kind of window things that don't have glass) are made to look somewhat like lace, and each one has a different pattern.

I went to mass that night, after which there was a pilgrim benediction. I didn't get a stamp but we each got to ring this nifty pilgrim bell three times: once for the Father, once for the Son and once for the Holy Ghost.

Then came Santo Domingo de la Calzada. A very... um, interesting... town. It's cathedral has been turned into a museum, with religious art and illustrated manuscripts. And Chinese vases and scepters and other miscellanea for some reason.

This piece is a reliquary. What's a reliquary? It's where they keep relics! What's a relic? Generally, a piece of a dead saint, such as a finger bone. See the spots in the guys' stomachs that looks like glass? It is. That's where you'd formerly be able to see a piece of a dead person, which is slightly less creepy than when I went to the Vatican with a couple of friends and we decided to investigate why there was a crowd against one wall only to discover that they were all looking at and taking pictures of one of the former popes, displayed in a glass coffin and wearing a death mask so you wouldn't see his shriveled black face, though it did nothing to hide his neck or his hands.

To be less creepy, here's some more stuff from the cathedral/museum.

By the way, the pages of those books are made from vellum which is the skins of babies. Lambs, that is. Not people. And (if you looked closely at the last few pics) what's up with the chickens? Well, they're not actually chickens, they're roosters. And they might be because of these guys.

I know the bars prevent you from seeing them very well, but there are actually two roosters in that cage. And that cage is found in here.

Yes. They have cock-a-doodle-dooing roosters INSIDE the cathedral. Why? It's another camino legend.

Way back in the day there was a family – parents and their son – traveling to Santiago on a pilgrimage. They stopped in this town and at least had dinner, if not stayed for the night. The barmaid was very interested in the son but he would have no part of her. So what did she do? She hid a silver goblet in his sack, of course, and accused him of stealing it! The boy was arrested and hung. The parents for some mysterious reason were none the wiser and continued all the way to Santiago. (Yeah, I know, did they really not notice their son was missing?) On the way back, they saw their son still hanging from the gallows. And get this: he was breathing! So the distraught parents went to the constable and pled for him to release their son. He declared that the son was no more alive than the rooster on his plate. At which point, of course, the rooster stood up and crowed. The son was released forthwith.

I make a lovely rooster-toting pilgrim, don't I?

And here's the part where I flew:

I took a bus from Santo Domingo to Burgos, thereby bypassing the horrible 50 km or so along the highway and through the industrial area. I met Orshi on the bus (she's from California) and we hung out together the rest of the day. We visited the cathedral. Again, not free. Maybe it's just me, but I think churches and cathedrals should always be open during the day and always be free. But apparently Spain does not agree.

However, with this cathedral visit we at least got audio guides, dry as they were. And some of the architecture was amazing.

That's Orshi, by the way. Candid photo.

Yes, we walked over graves. No, it didn't give us goosebumps.

Yes, I know it's a sarcophagus. But look at the detail!

That's the grave of El Cid aka Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar – beloved son of Burgos, castilian nobleman, military leader in medieval Spain, and national hero.

Yes, that is a fantastically beautiful rosette window IN THE CEILING! First time I've ever seen that.

Orshi and I took a train to León the next day, skipping the Meseta. I did it because I'm rather pressed for time. Orshi did it because she had no desire to walk flat land for days with no shade and only grain to look at. We ended up staying in a hostal, which is like a bed & breakfast without the breakfast. We had our own rooms with big beds for the low price of only 20 euros. It was nice. And León is a nice city. Nothing really spectacular about it but it had a good feel. Aside from the cathedral not being free.

There were some lovely flowers. I had to take a picture of the marigolds for my dad, because they're his favorite flower. I don't know what the others are.

And then I snapped a photo of the Roman walls on the way out of town the next day.

Wait, what's that? I thought I left Kansas! I guess there's still some holdover from the Meseta. In one little town I stayed at an albergue that wasn't anything special aside from the graffiti. Some of it was trash, some was funny, and some was pretty good. Here are some examples.

I had a good dinner there, a good night's rest, and this in the morning.

I've gone a couple of short days since. Nothing spectacular, but I did see a cool snail and crossed a very long Roman bridge.

The walk into Astorga today was pretty.

And I had churros con chocolate in Astorga! Yum! The cathedral was closed today, so I didn't go inside. I went by the Gaudí camino museum.

What do you mean those aren't my pictures of the museum? Just because it, too, was closed today and the pictures look like postcards...

Okay, okay. But this is my chocolate!

Best tasting chocolate with little tiny fragments of ham-like meat I've ever tasted! It is actually pretty good. You don't taste meat, it just adds a little crunch.

And finally some random pictures.

Keep checking back! Tomorrow I head into these mountains: