Here I am! In Santander!
I have just made an untypically long stop of four days. And I was so close to giving up. So close to taking the bus and just stopping this. Because, people, I am really exhausted now. My energy is coming to its end. But the good news are that they will probably last for the last 3 weeks!! Perhaps this weakness is some kind of psychopathological effect. The goal comes closer... And the last kilometers turn out to be perhaps the hardest, at least motivationally speaking.
I stopped at the house of my great friend Marina. Since I was like 15, she was always telling me from a great refuge in Cantabria where she was volunteering sometimes. She told me so many good things about it, that I was expecting my arrival al this refuge (La Cabaña del abuelo Peuto, in Güemes) to be one of the highlights of the Way. And it was. Oh yes, it was.
I can count with the fingers of one hand how often I was welcomed so warmly in a refuge. It felt like arriving to a place where old friends were waiting for you. Uncredibly warm. There were a lot of people from nearby villages helping with everything: Cooking, cleaning, everything.
The man that started the refuge a lot of years ago (Ernesto) is an old priest that has travelled throught all South America, working in the gold and zinc mines and in the fields high in the Andian Mountains. He has such an inspiring aura.
The moment I crossed the door of the refuge I wrote an sms to Marina and told here I had arrived at her refuge. Imagine how my face did look like when a couple of hours later she arrives. I was thinking that she would be in Tenerife, but she arrived at Cantabria the very same day that I reached the Refuge. Come on. This things only happen in books and in the Camino.
We went to a camp that Ernesto and friends and collaborators organized for children. It was great to be there. It brought me back some forgotten childhood memories. And it made me remember that someone in my family has been missioneering in Brazil (in the Amazonas) for quite a long time, and perhaps it is about time to get back in contact with him. I've been thinking for a while about travelling to South America. Perhaps my next long trip will be to the Amazonas? A new form of pelgrimage, of discovery?
I'm going to bed. Someone please tell the God of the Rain to stop making vacations in north Spain!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The Big Ocean, The Solitude & The Big Thanks
Guys, Do you know where I am right now?
Yes. I am in SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First of all:
I am amazed.
There are several reasons for being amazed, but there is one that I want to mention at the very beginning:
Thank you.
Thqnk you a lot.
Thank you from here to Santiago and back to Munich and up into deep space and
Thank you with each small piece of my soul.
Thanks, friends.
I have received a LOT of help from some extremely, extremely generous people since I asked for financial help some days (weeks?) ago. I am extremely touched, I have tears in my eyes right now. I hope I can give back the favor to all you when you need it and also when you don't need it, but I can do it for you.
I'd like to tell you something that makes these donations even more magical.
There are two feelings that in all languages I know are described by the same word:
Solitude.
In my eyes, this is a huge mistake. You don't need to be a master of Zen to recognize that there are two kinds of solitude, the good and the bad one.
The good one is what I came here to search for. You are alone, in the middle of nature or wherever, you are a part of something ancient, omnipresent, you don't need words to communicate with the World. You communicate with your only existence. Good solitude lies somewhere between peace and happiness.
But bad solitude is one of the worst things that can happen to you. As thinking and conscient beings, it is more important to us how we think that things are than how things really are. Some people cannot go into the sea because the big waves scare the hell out of them: And some other people don't only go into the waves, they actually take a Surf board with them and play with them. There are people that work several hours a day in a mine, and others that are claustrophobic. People that run scared when they see a spider and people who eat spiders. People rich as kings that seem to be always unhappy and poor people that walk smiling through life.
And there are people that are loney and people that feel lonely.
It doesn't matter how reality is, it depends only how it looks to you.
The other day at Saint-Jean-Pied de Port I met an american girl of my age. She had arrived with a friend the day before to start the Way, and after a chain of very bad coincidences she found herself alone, without bank card or money (it was national day in the US, so there was no chance of calling there and solving the problems), and without knowing the language of a foreign country. And without the person she had made the way there with. She was really scared and worse than that, she was feeling really, really lonely. No one around that could help her. That's the way she was feeling.
To my eyes, she was already saved:
The people of the refuge had offered her an extra free night and food, she had become money from me and some other people, some 55 € in total, more than enough for surviving good some days, calling home, getting money or a bank card or whatever and continue the Way. The people sourrounding her were willing to help her, the refuge's guardians would for sure allow her to stay some more nights or arrange some solution, there were not many but some people like me that could serve as translators, and well... In some days everything would have been OK. But she was terribly lonely.
At the beginning, since I have had quite often the feeling of "shit, nothing is working, I want to go home, I'm tired, I'm lost, please help", I tried to explain her my best self-boosting arguments, the ways that allow me to continue when there is no more energy left.
I wanted to help her to continue, which is what I needed. To continue to the very end.
You see, it is often difficult to hear what people really need and not to confuse the needs of other's with our own needs projected in them.
For I was telling her: "Look, you have money, you have food and a dry bed, you have friends, this is going to work out, just hold on some more time and then you will be able to continue to Santiago"
But all she wanted was to escape her bad solitude. She wanted to go home, she wanted to talk to someone that felt familiar. I tried everything, and you know what helped her, what made her collapse and cry and see the light at the end of the tunnel and say thank you thank you thank you?
It was going to a shop, buying a phone card and calling her family in the US. Talking to them. She started crying and let all her pain out at the very moment that she heard a known voice. That was all she needed to boost her hope.
You see, the bad solitude.
Well, the price of lots of good solitude is, at some point, the bad solitude. Everyone has different needs of good solitude, and even the fanatics like me that go into a 4-month long walk through the most desert roads they can find and climb up mad mountains just to sit at their top and feel their body full of electricity and energy come to a point where they feel lonely.
Remember I said the other day that I wanted to talk about the dark sides of the Way?
In the middle of the Way, at Cordes-sur-Ciel (Cordes over the sky, ain't that a wonderful name for a town?), a pelgrim gave me his tent because he didn't wanted to carry it anymore. I loved that. I was hoping for that moment! A tent!! Full freedom!!!
Well, to my surprise, the first night in my tent was really sad. I was feeling horribly lonely. I was exhausted, it was windy and going to rain, I didn't know if the tent wouls stand it, it was cold. My mind was full of memories of much much warmer nights that din't help much to feel better. I would have loved to talk for ten minutes to someone I knew. Ey man, how you're doing, everything is fine, let's go for a beer this weekend, see ya. That would have made it.
This is from my diary:
When it's cold in the tent and the floor is rocky you feel lonely.
When you never have the money to pay the dinner and at night you are always eating your two-days old bread with cheap cheese while everyone is having fun at their fine soup and their steak... You feel lonely
When beautiful girls pass by, accompained by some unknown guys... You feel lonely
When memories of much warmer nights in much more beautiful places hit you like an invisible wall... Hell, you're lonely.
When after 80 days of walking you still have no fucking idea of what to do with your life, you're really lonely.
You are in a different state of mind and soul than the "normal" person when you seek for solitude like I have done. Some days I was meeting less than 5 persons, and I talked more than five minutes with only one of them, the guardian of the refuge. You know how terrible it can be if the only person you have a conversation with in the whole day, maybe in two days, says you something that hurts you? Something like "You need a fork? Well, Mr. Autonomy is not as autonomous as he seems, is he?" - Or "80 days from Munich? That's pretty slow. You aren't in a hurry, are you?"
It can absolutely screw your day.
In the same manner, there are days that walking angels appear to be in your way. In two occassions I met farmers with their cars. The stopped as they passed by and they asked what I was doing and where I was going. They were amused and impressed by my story and they wished the best and drove on. After five minutes they returned with the car. They had cheese, cookies, milk, bread, they had brought it for me.
Can you imagine what that means to me? An unexpected plastic bag with cheese, cookies and bread? Can you feel the way my eyes open, the amazing size of that present they are making? Can you understand the message, the energy, the magic these persons can share with me with that simple things?
Let's recall: While in the pyrinees, I met few people. I met few civilization. It was not evident if I would find food or drinking water this day or even the next two or three. There were no villages nearby ( < 3,4h by foot) to search for help. Weather was not forgiving up there. It was pure nature, all the good, and all the bad things.
In short: It was hard. Very hard. And these people knew it. And when they saw me there, their reaction was to gave me something that would give me the confidence to make another day through the wonderful and wild mountains, something that would definetly aid to kill the bad solitude, the nights of being afraid in the tent when thunders were falling, the days where you had to climb 1500 m under the hell of a sun, the days were you were wishing so hard, SO HARD to receive a hug, a kiss, a caress, to be in the arms of someone that loved you and said it silently in your ears.
With their cheese and cookis these people were saying hold on, man. Punch that bad solitude in the face. Hold on. You're doing it. You really fucking came here from Munich, you will do that huge mountain over there, keep on fighting, I appreciate your walking, I want to help you, I believe in you and I walk with you in thougts, do it, man, walk, continue, do it, fight, you're winning, man, you are making your way to your dreams.
And THESE things are the biggest presents I have ever received in my life.
And the people that gave me some money when I asked for it were saying the very same things, holding my back against the wind, helping me with the logistics but much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much more with the soul. Each donation was saying: We trust you, Samuel, you're doing it, we're proud, do it your Way. You may be alone and cold tonight but your friends are out there and wish you the Best.
And it makes me cry. Thank you (:
And well, I wanted to talk a bit about the Ocean.. Seeing it was uncredibly. But I'll let the pic talk:
(After nearly 100 days.... The Ocean. Home.)
(Good morning, world)
(To me, this looked like a ship that was anti-wrecking
SPAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
Some phrases from songs or poems I have in my mind:
" Corazón solo por el planeta, sembrando flores en la tormenta "
" Pero el viajero que huye tarde o temprano detiene su andar "
Some songs that follow me
Mercedes Sosa - Milonga por él , Galopa Murrieta, Canción para Carito
And now, to finish with this slightly melodramatic post, to boost you all in your Way throught life and to reaffirm my will to arrive in less than one month to the very End of Europe, come what come, lonely or not, with heat or rain or thunder, please play the following song very,
very
loud.
'cause
(I)(You)(We) will always go the next step
(Thanks again, cool people of all colours, shapes and languages :D!)
(Oh, and some interesting news: I had to take some important decisions on the way here. I am leaving physics. I am landing in Madgeburg (southwest of Berlin), and I will give Neurosciences a big try. It was a hard decision between Tübingen and Madgeburg... That's it. Let's walk.)
Yes. I am in SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First of all:
I am amazed.
There are several reasons for being amazed, but there is one that I want to mention at the very beginning:
Thank you.
Thqnk you a lot.
Thank you from here to Santiago and back to Munich and up into deep space and
Thank you with each small piece of my soul.
Thanks, friends.
I have received a LOT of help from some extremely, extremely generous people since I asked for financial help some days (weeks?) ago. I am extremely touched, I have tears in my eyes right now. I hope I can give back the favor to all you when you need it and also when you don't need it, but I can do it for you.
I'd like to tell you something that makes these donations even more magical.
There are two feelings that in all languages I know are described by the same word:
Solitude.
In my eyes, this is a huge mistake. You don't need to be a master of Zen to recognize that there are two kinds of solitude, the good and the bad one.
The good one is what I came here to search for. You are alone, in the middle of nature or wherever, you are a part of something ancient, omnipresent, you don't need words to communicate with the World. You communicate with your only existence. Good solitude lies somewhere between peace and happiness.
But bad solitude is one of the worst things that can happen to you. As thinking and conscient beings, it is more important to us how we think that things are than how things really are. Some people cannot go into the sea because the big waves scare the hell out of them: And some other people don't only go into the waves, they actually take a Surf board with them and play with them. There are people that work several hours a day in a mine, and others that are claustrophobic. People that run scared when they see a spider and people who eat spiders. People rich as kings that seem to be always unhappy and poor people that walk smiling through life.
And there are people that are loney and people that feel lonely.
It doesn't matter how reality is, it depends only how it looks to you.
The other day at Saint-Jean-Pied de Port I met an american girl of my age. She had arrived with a friend the day before to start the Way, and after a chain of very bad coincidences she found herself alone, without bank card or money (it was national day in the US, so there was no chance of calling there and solving the problems), and without knowing the language of a foreign country. And without the person she had made the way there with. She was really scared and worse than that, she was feeling really, really lonely. No one around that could help her. That's the way she was feeling.
To my eyes, she was already saved:
The people of the refuge had offered her an extra free night and food, she had become money from me and some other people, some 55 € in total, more than enough for surviving good some days, calling home, getting money or a bank card or whatever and continue the Way. The people sourrounding her were willing to help her, the refuge's guardians would for sure allow her to stay some more nights or arrange some solution, there were not many but some people like me that could serve as translators, and well... In some days everything would have been OK. But she was terribly lonely.
At the beginning, since I have had quite often the feeling of "shit, nothing is working, I want to go home, I'm tired, I'm lost, please help", I tried to explain her my best self-boosting arguments, the ways that allow me to continue when there is no more energy left.
I wanted to help her to continue, which is what I needed. To continue to the very end.
You see, it is often difficult to hear what people really need and not to confuse the needs of other's with our own needs projected in them.
For I was telling her: "Look, you have money, you have food and a dry bed, you have friends, this is going to work out, just hold on some more time and then you will be able to continue to Santiago"
But all she wanted was to escape her bad solitude. She wanted to go home, she wanted to talk to someone that felt familiar. I tried everything, and you know what helped her, what made her collapse and cry and see the light at the end of the tunnel and say thank you thank you thank you?
It was going to a shop, buying a phone card and calling her family in the US. Talking to them. She started crying and let all her pain out at the very moment that she heard a known voice. That was all she needed to boost her hope.
You see, the bad solitude.
Well, the price of lots of good solitude is, at some point, the bad solitude. Everyone has different needs of good solitude, and even the fanatics like me that go into a 4-month long walk through the most desert roads they can find and climb up mad mountains just to sit at their top and feel their body full of electricity and energy come to a point where they feel lonely.
Remember I said the other day that I wanted to talk about the dark sides of the Way?
In the middle of the Way, at Cordes-sur-Ciel (Cordes over the sky, ain't that a wonderful name for a town?), a pelgrim gave me his tent because he didn't wanted to carry it anymore. I loved that. I was hoping for that moment! A tent!! Full freedom!!!
Well, to my surprise, the first night in my tent was really sad. I was feeling horribly lonely. I was exhausted, it was windy and going to rain, I didn't know if the tent wouls stand it, it was cold. My mind was full of memories of much much warmer nights that din't help much to feel better. I would have loved to talk for ten minutes to someone I knew. Ey man, how you're doing, everything is fine, let's go for a beer this weekend, see ya. That would have made it.
This is from my diary:
When it's cold in the tent and the floor is rocky you feel lonely.
When you never have the money to pay the dinner and at night you are always eating your two-days old bread with cheap cheese while everyone is having fun at their fine soup and their steak... You feel lonely
When beautiful girls pass by, accompained by some unknown guys... You feel lonely
When memories of much warmer nights in much more beautiful places hit you like an invisible wall... Hell, you're lonely.
When after 80 days of walking you still have no fucking idea of what to do with your life, you're really lonely.
You are in a different state of mind and soul than the "normal" person when you seek for solitude like I have done. Some days I was meeting less than 5 persons, and I talked more than five minutes with only one of them, the guardian of the refuge. You know how terrible it can be if the only person you have a conversation with in the whole day, maybe in two days, says you something that hurts you? Something like "You need a fork? Well, Mr. Autonomy is not as autonomous as he seems, is he?" - Or "80 days from Munich? That's pretty slow. You aren't in a hurry, are you?"
It can absolutely screw your day.
In the same manner, there are days that walking angels appear to be in your way. In two occassions I met farmers with their cars. The stopped as they passed by and they asked what I was doing and where I was going. They were amused and impressed by my story and they wished the best and drove on. After five minutes they returned with the car. They had cheese, cookies, milk, bread, they had brought it for me.
Can you imagine what that means to me? An unexpected plastic bag with cheese, cookies and bread? Can you feel the way my eyes open, the amazing size of that present they are making? Can you understand the message, the energy, the magic these persons can share with me with that simple things?
Let's recall: While in the pyrinees, I met few people. I met few civilization. It was not evident if I would find food or drinking water this day or even the next two or three. There were no villages nearby ( < 3,4h by foot) to search for help. Weather was not forgiving up there. It was pure nature, all the good, and all the bad things.
In short: It was hard. Very hard. And these people knew it. And when they saw me there, their reaction was to gave me something that would give me the confidence to make another day through the wonderful and wild mountains, something that would definetly aid to kill the bad solitude, the nights of being afraid in the tent when thunders were falling, the days where you had to climb 1500 m under the hell of a sun, the days were you were wishing so hard, SO HARD to receive a hug, a kiss, a caress, to be in the arms of someone that loved you and said it silently in your ears.
With their cheese and cookis these people were saying hold on, man. Punch that bad solitude in the face. Hold on. You're doing it. You really fucking came here from Munich, you will do that huge mountain over there, keep on fighting, I appreciate your walking, I want to help you, I believe in you and I walk with you in thougts, do it, man, walk, continue, do it, fight, you're winning, man, you are making your way to your dreams.
And THESE things are the biggest presents I have ever received in my life.
And the people that gave me some money when I asked for it were saying the very same things, holding my back against the wind, helping me with the logistics but much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much more with the soul. Each donation was saying: We trust you, Samuel, you're doing it, we're proud, do it your Way. You may be alone and cold tonight but your friends are out there and wish you the Best.
And it makes me cry. Thank you (:
And well, I wanted to talk a bit about the Ocean.. Seeing it was uncredibly. But I'll let the pic talk:
(After nearly 100 days.... The Ocean. Home.)
(Good morning, world)
(To me, this looked like a ship that was anti-wrecking
SPAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
Some phrases from songs or poems I have in my mind:
" Corazón solo por el planeta, sembrando flores en la tormenta "
" Pero el viajero que huye tarde o temprano detiene su andar "
Some songs that follow me
Mercedes Sosa - Milonga por él , Galopa Murrieta, Canción para Carito
And now, to finish with this slightly melodramatic post, to boost you all in your Way throught life and to reaffirm my will to arrive in less than one month to the very End of Europe, come what come, lonely or not, with heat or rain or thunder, please play the following song very,
very
loud.
'cause
(I)(You)(We) will always go the next step
(Thanks again, cool people of all colours, shapes and languages :D!)
(Oh, and some interesting news: I had to take some important decisions on the way here. I am leaving physics. I am landing in Madgeburg (southwest of Berlin), and I will give Neurosciences a big try. It was a hard decision between Tübingen and Madgeburg... That's it. Let's walk.)
Monday, July 4, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
A little bit more of the feeling
Not everything is joy and glory in the Way... Soon I'll tell you about the Dark sides of the Way.
But now it's time for some pics
The "Pic of Midi"... You can feel its force even from the picture
This is how the GR10 looks like. Mountain up, mountain down (and they're not too small...) And all filled with a beauty that you cannot describe with words
(...)
You can drink the water from all small rivers up here. It tastes like liquid Life.
Nature is wild.
80 days!!!!
I love this. Man, how do I love this.
Can you feel the freedom?
Can you feel the magic?
This is Me. In my purest form. No frontiers, no rules, no shadows, nothing else than pure Samu. Le bonheur. Life. This is it.
@Giannis & Natasa: Thanksss!!! You are my guard angels (: !
But now it's time for some pics
The "Pic of Midi"... You can feel its force even from the picture
This is how the GR10 looks like. Mountain up, mountain down (and they're not too small...) And all filled with a beauty that you cannot describe with words
(...)
You can drink the water from all small rivers up here. It tastes like liquid Life.
Nature is wild.
80 days!!!!
I love this. Man, how do I love this.
Can you feel the freedom?
Can you feel the magic?
This is Me. In my purest form. No frontiers, no rules, no shadows, nothing else than pure Samu. Le bonheur. Life. This is it.
@Giannis & Natasa: Thanksss!!! You are my guard angels (: !
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Money money money money
Here I am!
I am facing an important issue these days... I am running out of money!
When I arrived at the GR 10 I had to buy new shoes... The old ones didn't resist the long march, and making this way with them would have been suicidal! That was a hard punch in the face of my budget.
Today I am ONLY ( :] ) two weeks away from the Atlantic, and some 40 days from Santiago de Compostela. It's my 83th day, so I'm nearly done ((: !!
But I am short of cash for 15-20 days... I am burning 10 to 30 euros per day, depending on the weather (it's not possible to sleep outside with a pyreneic thunderstorm...) and also on the availability of cheap supermarket food, which is not always the case.
Perhaps some of you have liked this blog and the stories, feelings and photos on it. And perhaps some of you would like to support the journey and donate some money. It's not too much what I need, and if some of you can donate a little bit, there will be no other major obstacles on the Way to Santiago!!! I will be more than happy for every little bit you could give.
The german account is:
(...)
And the spanish one:
(...)
It's not that I am so rich that I need two bank accounts... It's that I live in both countries... And if there's one thing that banks love is to charge you if you do anything out of the usual, like using your money abroad.
I hope I can find soon again time to write more about what nature here is saying with its still voice. I am seeing lanscapes, mountains and lakes like I have never EVER seen before in my life. The Pyrenees are magic in its pure state.
Thank you (:
I am facing an important issue these days... I am running out of money!
When I arrived at the GR 10 I had to buy new shoes... The old ones didn't resist the long march, and making this way with them would have been suicidal! That was a hard punch in the face of my budget.
Today I am ONLY ( :] ) two weeks away from the Atlantic, and some 40 days from Santiago de Compostela. It's my 83th day, so I'm nearly done ((: !!
But I am short of cash for 15-20 days... I am burning 10 to 30 euros per day, depending on the weather (it's not possible to sleep outside with a pyreneic thunderstorm...) and also on the availability of cheap supermarket food, which is not always the case.
Perhaps some of you have liked this blog and the stories, feelings and photos on it. And perhaps some of you would like to support the journey and donate some money. It's not too much what I need, and if some of you can donate a little bit, there will be no other major obstacles on the Way to Santiago!!! I will be more than happy for every little bit you could give.
The german account is:
(...)
And the spanish one:
(...)
It's not that I am so rich that I need two bank accounts... It's that I live in both countries... And if there's one thing that banks love is to charge you if you do anything out of the usual, like using your money abroad.
I hope I can find soon again time to write more about what nature here is saying with its still voice. I am seeing lanscapes, mountains and lakes like I have never EVER seen before in my life. The Pyrenees are magic in its pure state.
Thank you (:
Friday, June 17, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
I found it
It's here.
The silent voice, the invisible hand that has been driving me from Munich is here. I can feel its undeniable presence between these ancient mountains.
I cqn hardly find the words to describe how it is to be walking here. It is the most difficult and the most beautiful challenge I have done EVER. I'm getting even more pushed towards my physical and spiritual limits here. My body, my mind and my soul are working at full power. I am giving all I have. I am existing like never before.
There is a form of magic present in the air, in the rock, in myself.
It is the purest from of existance I can think of.
There is nothing around but The Mountain.
The rock.
Nature. Naked. Inspiring. Beautiful. Dangerous. Undeniable. Magnificient. Wild. Powerful. Yet quiet.
Ancient.
Wise.
It's here I had to arrive. It's the mystic of these places that was invoking me, pronouncing my name in the oldest and most magical of all languages. It's the silence of the Pyrenees that I was hearing so loudly inside of me since Munich.
Now I know the reason why I started my Way. Let's see if I'm brave enough to accept it and to say it out loud.
(By the way, it's here I am know :)
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Pyrenees!!!!!
I'm in Rieumes!!
Yesterday, for the first time after 65 days, I saw the Pyrenees!!!! I was shouting and jumping and crying and laughing for hours!!! I'm getting closer!!!
Just the short version of what I have done since last time I wrote: I quitted the official St. James' Way in France, the GR 65, and turned right to the South direction Toulouse. It was very very impressive to see another big town after such a long time. Incredibly big. Now I'm on the GR 86 (http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fichier:Carte_GR86.gif), walking directly to the heart of the Pyrenees. There I will join at some point the GR 10 and continue between huge mountains and fairytale-like landscapes to the atlantic coast... And then the last straight line to Santiago will start!!!
Since I left the official way, I have had an uncredibly luck. Uncredibly. I have met great, great persons in the Way. One day, when I have more time, I will write a post mentioning and thanking them all.
One thing I learnt: There are still good people in the world!! Seriously!! Quite some!!
Gracias a la Vida. Gracias, mundoooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!! See you soon!
Yesterday, for the first time after 65 days, I saw the Pyrenees!!!! I was shouting and jumping and crying and laughing for hours!!! I'm getting closer!!!
Just the short version of what I have done since last time I wrote: I quitted the official St. James' Way in France, the GR 65, and turned right to the South direction Toulouse. It was very very impressive to see another big town after such a long time. Incredibly big. Now I'm on the GR 86 (http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fichier:Carte_GR86.gif), walking directly to the heart of the Pyrenees. There I will join at some point the GR 10 and continue between huge mountains and fairytale-like landscapes to the atlantic coast... And then the last straight line to Santiago will start!!!
Since I left the official way, I have had an uncredibly luck. Uncredibly. I have met great, great persons in the Way. One day, when I have more time, I will write a post mentioning and thanking them all.
One thing I learnt: There are still good people in the world!! Seriously!! Quite some!!
Gracias a la Vida. Gracias, mundoooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!! See you soon!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Le Bonheur, the Minor Variation and the Big Disappointment
Here I am! In Decazeville, France.
Today I'm making the second break in my Way. The body was already asking for it! It's such a pleasure to sleep until 9, to wake up slooooooooowly and sit in the sun, and have some nice breakfast and leave your feet in the air and not inside the boots...
The last days have been nice and horrible. After Le Puy-en-Velay, the Way turned up to be one of the biggest disappointments of my life.
From Munich to Le Puy I was meeting at most two or three new pelgrims each day. After Le Puy, it was a HUNDRED each day. I was horrified. How can anyone pretend to be on a spiritual Way, on a pelgrimage, if every five meters you meet a group of two to six loud people walking in the same direction as you? And I'm telling you something: Most of those people were no pelgrims. They all had their credentials, but they were there 'cause it's a nice thing to do on a free week. No existential searching, no spirituality at all, most of them even let their baggage be driven to the next destination by a taxi. What the hell!!!
It was impossible to sit down and have some time for yourself: The next group of happy tourists saying bonjour bonjour would arrive instanctly.
It was impossible to hear the silence: There were always enough people around you to destroy its sound.
It was even impossible to feel away from civilization, since every two or three kilometers there was a huge yellow or red sign announcing the next hotel or the next restaurant!!!!
I got so pissed, so uncredibly pissed, that I have finally decided to quit the GR65, the official Way of Saint James in France.
I don't know if you can imagine how it hurted so see the Way full of easy tourists. I got sick of answering how many kilometers I was going each day, and how many kilograms my bag was weighting. In five days, I repeated the answers like a hundred times! And NONE of the people there, NONE of them asked even ONCE why are you here, what was the reason for starting a 2500 km Way by foot, what are you dreams in life, anything more deep than how many kilos does the fucking shit weight. No fucking idea, tourist! I don't care! I never weighted it! The idea never even crossed my mind!
I had faced other troubles before in the Way. The cold and the heat, the problem of the money, the never ending ways, the difficulties finding somewhere to sleep, the blisters in the feet, the hurting of the legs, of the shoulders, of everything, the days you had to ascend 1000 meters or more under heavy rain or a hell-like sun to descend them again, the nostalgy of home, the presence of my inner devils. None of them could move me even one millimeter away from my destination, but THIS. This has thrown me out of the Way in less than a week. For I have taken the decision, I will leave the Way and seek for an alternative in the next possibility I find. This may be in a week or tomorrow. I heared there are other Ways going in the same direction (The spot where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Pyrenees) after Toulousse. Let's see what we find.
There was such a bitter fight inside of me, I was feeling so bad that I shaved my beard -this has a huge symbolic meaning for me-, I cut my towel in two and gave half of it and a pack of other things away. One day, I even stopped talking with the idea of not opening my mouth again until I reach Santiago. At night I stopped that bad idea...
It all may sound a bit exaggerated for you, but this Way means SO much for me, I need it and the Solitude I had before Le Puy SO hard, that it is at not point exaggerated.
A route differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another. A route has no meaning in itself its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop. A route is the triumphant devaluation of space, which thanks to it has been reduced to a mere obstacle to human movement and a waste of time.
The great Milan Kundera
*I cannot hear to the music in this computer. I hope this are the songs I'm searching :)
When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.
(...)
Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.
Constantine Cavafy
Well, at the very beginning I told you that the days were horrible but also nice. Not everything was contaminated by the tourists. I have met some uncredible people also. A girl that left everything (even the house!) and left, another that is traveling for weeks with her bike through Europe, an uruguayan-israelian guy full of wisdom and a bit of mala hostia... It's all a part of the Way, I guess. I meditated a long time if these problems with the tourists are there for me to accept their presence or if I should simply search for that what I was searching from the very beginning: The Solitude. And I think it's rather the second thing.
I'm copying you a part of my diary on the 51th day:
51 days.
51 days since I took my bag in Munich and said ' I'm going to Santiago '
51 days of walking. All day long. Be it as it be: Sun, rain, fog, heat or cold.
51 days of sending to hell all conventionalisms, the routes, the highways, the speed, the progress, the State of Welfare.
51 days of walking to, with and throught my dreams.
51 days of falling, of external and internal pains, of broken dreams, of fears, of hitting the ground with the teeth
51 days with some moments close to giving up.
51 days of saying NO. I do NOT give up, I do NOT stop, I do NOT stay (no me quedo inmovil al borde del camino), I have NOT said everything I had to say.
51 days of staying up again, of making the next step, of restarting my way, of rising the fists and the head and continuing, of trespassing my own frontiers, of arriving even further.
51 days of firmly holding the stick and looking into the pain's eyes
51 days of living my dreams, of being me, ME, Samuel, without restrictions, withouth limits, witouht sugar.
51 days of nature, of inmense skies, of valleys, mountains, smells, dirt, rock.
51 days of spitiruality, of pureness, of instinct.
51 days of returning.
51 days of remembering. Building. Forgetting.
51 days of letting myself fall, of trusting, of simplicity, of beauty.
51 days full of moments - de diminutos instantes inmensos en el vivir-
51 days of joy, of cry, of emotion, of nostalgy, of Fernweh, of seeing nature work.
51 days of getting to know me better, of go for a walk towards my limits, of burning, of learning.
51 days of using my body like never before, of learning from him, of getting astonished about its machinery.
51 days of Way towards me.
51 days of filling myself with a confidence made of stone, of world.
51 days of welcoming the rest of my life.
A 51-day ritual. And even more. The returning. The initiation. The Debugging, the Connection to what sourrounds me and forms me.
One destination, Santiago, like a lighthouse.
No ending.
A Way that doesn't end, it reaches Santiago and continues into the Unknown.
One Life. Full. Intense. Richtig. It's here. And it's now. Just as it's there, and it's then. One Way, one Force, one Motor, The Direction. And letting myself go. One step, and then the other. Slowly towards the end of the world. Until the Next starts.
I'm on my way.
Con diez cañones por banda,
viento en popa a toda vela,
no corta el mar, sino vuela,
un velero bergantín;
bajel pirata que llaman
por su bravura el Temido
en todo el mar conocido
del uno al otro confín.
La luna en el mar riela,
en la lona gime el viento
y alza en blando movimiento
olas de plata y azul;
y ve el capitán pirata,
cantando alegre en la popa,
Asia a un lado, al otro Europa,
Y allá a su frente Estambul:
- Navega, velero mío,
sin temor
que ni enemigo navío,
ni tormenta, ni bonanza
tu rumbo a torcer alcanza,
ni a sujetar tu valor.
Veinte presas
hemos hecho
a despecho
del inglés
y han rendido
sus pendones
cien naciones
a mis pies.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Allá muevan feroz guerra
ciegos reyes
por un palmo más de tierra,
que yo tengo aquí por mío
cuanto abarca el mar bravío
a quien nadie impuso leyes.
Y no hay playa
sea cualquiera,
ni bandera
de esplendor,
que no sienta
mi derecho
y dé pecho
a mi valor
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
A la voz de ¡barco viene!,
es de ver
cómo vira y se previene
a todo trapo a escapar:
que yo soy el rey del mar
y mi furia es de temer.
En las presas
yo divido
lo cogido
por igual:
sólo quiero
por riqueza
la belleza
sin rival.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
¡Sentenciado estoy a muerte!
Yo me río:
no me abandone la suerte,
y al mismo que me condena
colgaré de alguna antena
quizá en su propio navío.
Y si caigo,
¿qué es la vida?
Por perdida
ya la di
cuando el yugo
del esclavo
como un bravo sacudí.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Son mi música mejor
aquilones,
el estrépito y temblor
de los cables sacudidos
del negro mar los bramidos
y el rugir de mis cañones.
Y del trueno
al son violento,
y del viento,
al rebramar,
yo me duermo
sosegado,
arrullado
por el mar.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Espronceda
No te quedes inmóvil
al borde del camino
no congeles el júbilo
no quieras con desgana
no te salves ahora
ni nunca
no te salves
no te llenes de calma
no reserves del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
no dejes caer los párpados
pesados como juicios
no te quedes sin labios
no te duermas sin sueño
no te pienses sin sangre
no te juzgues sin tiempo
pero si
pese a todo
no puedes evitarlo
y congelas el júbilo
y quieres con desgana
y te salvas ahora
y te llenas de calma
y reservas del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
y dejas caer los párpados
pesados como juicios
y te secas sin labios
y te duermes sin sueño
y te piensas sin sangre
y te juzgas sin tiempo
y te quedas inmóvil
al borde del camino
y te salvas
entonces
no te quedes conmigo.
The great Mario Benedetti
Peace to you. Buen Camino (:
Today I'm making the second break in my Way. The body was already asking for it! It's such a pleasure to sleep until 9, to wake up slooooooooowly and sit in the sun, and have some nice breakfast and leave your feet in the air and not inside the boots...
The last days have been nice and horrible. After Le Puy-en-Velay, the Way turned up to be one of the biggest disappointments of my life.
From Munich to Le Puy I was meeting at most two or three new pelgrims each day. After Le Puy, it was a HUNDRED each day. I was horrified. How can anyone pretend to be on a spiritual Way, on a pelgrimage, if every five meters you meet a group of two to six loud people walking in the same direction as you? And I'm telling you something: Most of those people were no pelgrims. They all had their credentials, but they were there 'cause it's a nice thing to do on a free week. No existential searching, no spirituality at all, most of them even let their baggage be driven to the next destination by a taxi. What the hell!!!
It was impossible to sit down and have some time for yourself: The next group of happy tourists saying bonjour bonjour would arrive instanctly.
It was impossible to hear the silence: There were always enough people around you to destroy its sound.
It was even impossible to feel away from civilization, since every two or three kilometers there was a huge yellow or red sign announcing the next hotel or the next restaurant!!!!
I got so pissed, so uncredibly pissed, that I have finally decided to quit the GR65, the official Way of Saint James in France.
I don't know if you can imagine how it hurted so see the Way full of easy tourists. I got sick of answering how many kilometers I was going each day, and how many kilograms my bag was weighting. In five days, I repeated the answers like a hundred times! And NONE of the people there, NONE of them asked even ONCE why are you here, what was the reason for starting a 2500 km Way by foot, what are you dreams in life, anything more deep than how many kilos does the fucking shit weight. No fucking idea, tourist! I don't care! I never weighted it! The idea never even crossed my mind!
I had faced other troubles before in the Way. The cold and the heat, the problem of the money, the never ending ways, the difficulties finding somewhere to sleep, the blisters in the feet, the hurting of the legs, of the shoulders, of everything, the days you had to ascend 1000 meters or more under heavy rain or a hell-like sun to descend them again, the nostalgy of home, the presence of my inner devils. None of them could move me even one millimeter away from my destination, but THIS. This has thrown me out of the Way in less than a week. For I have taken the decision, I will leave the Way and seek for an alternative in the next possibility I find. This may be in a week or tomorrow. I heared there are other Ways going in the same direction (The spot where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Pyrenees) after Toulousse. Let's see what we find.
There was such a bitter fight inside of me, I was feeling so bad that I shaved my beard -this has a huge symbolic meaning for me-, I cut my towel in two and gave half of it and a pack of other things away. One day, I even stopped talking with the idea of not opening my mouth again until I reach Santiago. At night I stopped that bad idea...
It all may sound a bit exaggerated for you, but this Way means SO much for me, I need it and the Solitude I had before Le Puy SO hard, that it is at not point exaggerated.
A route differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another. A route has no meaning in itself its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop. A route is the triumphant devaluation of space, which thanks to it has been reduced to a mere obstacle to human movement and a waste of time.
The great Milan Kundera
*I cannot hear to the music in this computer. I hope this are the songs I'm searching :)
When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.
(...)
Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.
Constantine Cavafy
Well, at the very beginning I told you that the days were horrible but also nice. Not everything was contaminated by the tourists. I have met some uncredible people also. A girl that left everything (even the house!) and left, another that is traveling for weeks with her bike through Europe, an uruguayan-israelian guy full of wisdom and a bit of mala hostia... It's all a part of the Way, I guess. I meditated a long time if these problems with the tourists are there for me to accept their presence or if I should simply search for that what I was searching from the very beginning: The Solitude. And I think it's rather the second thing.
I'm copying you a part of my diary on the 51th day:
51 days.
51 days since I took my bag in Munich and said ' I'm going to Santiago '
51 days of walking. All day long. Be it as it be: Sun, rain, fog, heat or cold.
51 days of sending to hell all conventionalisms, the routes, the highways, the speed, the progress, the State of Welfare.
51 days of walking to, with and throught my dreams.
51 days of falling, of external and internal pains, of broken dreams, of fears, of hitting the ground with the teeth
51 days with some moments close to giving up.
51 days of saying NO. I do NOT give up, I do NOT stop, I do NOT stay (no me quedo inmovil al borde del camino), I have NOT said everything I had to say.
51 days of staying up again, of making the next step, of restarting my way, of rising the fists and the head and continuing, of trespassing my own frontiers, of arriving even further.
51 days of firmly holding the stick and looking into the pain's eyes
51 days of living my dreams, of being me, ME, Samuel, without restrictions, withouth limits, witouht sugar.
51 days of nature, of inmense skies, of valleys, mountains, smells, dirt, rock.
51 days of spitiruality, of pureness, of instinct.
51 days of returning.
51 days of remembering. Building. Forgetting.
51 days of letting myself fall, of trusting, of simplicity, of beauty.
51 days full of moments - de diminutos instantes inmensos en el vivir-
51 days of joy, of cry, of emotion, of nostalgy, of Fernweh, of seeing nature work.
51 days of getting to know me better, of go for a walk towards my limits, of burning, of learning.
51 days of using my body like never before, of learning from him, of getting astonished about its machinery.
51 days of Way towards me.
51 days of filling myself with a confidence made of stone, of world.
51 days of welcoming the rest of my life.
A 51-day ritual. And even more. The returning. The initiation. The Debugging, the Connection to what sourrounds me and forms me.
One destination, Santiago, like a lighthouse.
No ending.
A Way that doesn't end, it reaches Santiago and continues into the Unknown.
One Life. Full. Intense. Richtig. It's here. And it's now. Just as it's there, and it's then. One Way, one Force, one Motor, The Direction. And letting myself go. One step, and then the other. Slowly towards the end of the world. Until the Next starts.
I'm on my way.
Con diez cañones por banda,
viento en popa a toda vela,
no corta el mar, sino vuela,
un velero bergantín;
bajel pirata que llaman
por su bravura el Temido
en todo el mar conocido
del uno al otro confín.
La luna en el mar riela,
en la lona gime el viento
y alza en blando movimiento
olas de plata y azul;
y ve el capitán pirata,
cantando alegre en la popa,
Asia a un lado, al otro Europa,
Y allá a su frente Estambul:
- Navega, velero mío,
sin temor
que ni enemigo navío,
ni tormenta, ni bonanza
tu rumbo a torcer alcanza,
ni a sujetar tu valor.
Veinte presas
hemos hecho
a despecho
del inglés
y han rendido
sus pendones
cien naciones
a mis pies.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Allá muevan feroz guerra
ciegos reyes
por un palmo más de tierra,
que yo tengo aquí por mío
cuanto abarca el mar bravío
a quien nadie impuso leyes.
Y no hay playa
sea cualquiera,
ni bandera
de esplendor,
que no sienta
mi derecho
y dé pecho
a mi valor
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
A la voz de ¡barco viene!,
es de ver
cómo vira y se previene
a todo trapo a escapar:
que yo soy el rey del mar
y mi furia es de temer.
En las presas
yo divido
lo cogido
por igual:
sólo quiero
por riqueza
la belleza
sin rival.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
¡Sentenciado estoy a muerte!
Yo me río:
no me abandone la suerte,
y al mismo que me condena
colgaré de alguna antena
quizá en su propio navío.
Y si caigo,
¿qué es la vida?
Por perdida
ya la di
cuando el yugo
del esclavo
como un bravo sacudí.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Son mi música mejor
aquilones,
el estrépito y temblor
de los cables sacudidos
del negro mar los bramidos
y el rugir de mis cañones.
Y del trueno
al son violento,
y del viento,
al rebramar,
yo me duermo
sosegado,
arrullado
por el mar.
Que es mi barco mi tesoro,
que es mi Dios la libertad;
mi ley, la fuerza y el viento;
mi única patria, la mar.
Espronceda
No te quedes inmóvil
al borde del camino
no congeles el júbilo
no quieras con desgana
no te salves ahora
ni nunca
no te salves
no te llenes de calma
no reserves del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
no dejes caer los párpados
pesados como juicios
no te quedes sin labios
no te duermas sin sueño
no te pienses sin sangre
no te juzgues sin tiempo
pero si
pese a todo
no puedes evitarlo
y congelas el júbilo
y quieres con desgana
y te salvas ahora
y te llenas de calma
y reservas del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
y dejas caer los párpados
pesados como juicios
y te secas sin labios
y te duermes sin sueño
y te piensas sin sangre
y te juzgas sin tiempo
y te quedas inmóvil
al borde del camino
y te salvas
entonces
no te quedes conmigo.
The great Mario Benedetti
Peace to you. Buen Camino (:
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
50 days
I'm here!!
I'm in the middle of the Way!!!!!!! I have ~1300 km behind of me and there are still another 1400 to the End of Europe!!!!!!!!!!
I have so many things to tell. So many things to write... But I a, still in France and the tastature is insanely strange! No way I can write anything like this. I need a ,inute for each line.
BUT:
The most i,portqnt:
I'm HERE
I'm ALIVE - In the purest sense of the word.
I'm WALKING. I a, slowly finding all the things I was searching in this Way. The question qbout what to do with ,y life, that concerned me a lot, is becoming more and more distant. I am remembering my old convictions, I am now hearing clearly my innermost voices, telling me how to go on in this life.
And I think of you; Of my people, that send me little of big emails from wherever you are... I hqve had time to think of all the people that have left a mark in ,y life, what we shared, what remains. And it's beautiful. There are so great people around (:
And another thing: Today I saw ,y father!!! Due to work reasons, he was in Pamplona (Spain), and decided to drive the 700 km to here just to say Hello Son, how're you doing (: Well, that's a cool father, isn't it? You see, madness is a fa,ily problem: The son leaves from Munich to walk to Spain, and the father drives from Spain to ,eet him in the Way.
Well... This is it for now. Next time I find a real tastature you will hear great news. The best for you, people!!! (:
I'm in the middle of the Way!!!!!!! I have ~1300 km behind of me and there are still another 1400 to the End of Europe!!!!!!!!!!
I have so many things to tell. So many things to write... But I a, still in France and the tastature is insanely strange! No way I can write anything like this. I need a ,inute for each line.
BUT:
The most i,portqnt:
I'm HERE
I'm ALIVE - In the purest sense of the word.
I'm WALKING. I a, slowly finding all the things I was searching in this Way. The question qbout what to do with ,y life, that concerned me a lot, is becoming more and more distant. I am remembering my old convictions, I am now hearing clearly my innermost voices, telling me how to go on in this life.
And I think of you; Of my people, that send me little of big emails from wherever you are... I hqve had time to think of all the people that have left a mark in ,y life, what we shared, what remains. And it's beautiful. There are so great people around (:
And another thing: Today I saw ,y father!!! Due to work reasons, he was in Pamplona (Spain), and decided to drive the 700 km to here just to say Hello Son, how're you doing (: Well, that's a cool father, isn't it? You see, madness is a fa,ily problem: The son leaves from Munich to walk to Spain, and the father drives from Spain to ,eet him in the Way.
Well... This is it for now. Next time I find a real tastature you will hear great news. The best for you, people!!! (:
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Le Puy-en-Velay
Here I am!! In Le Puy-en-Velay!
Those who know a bit about the Way of Saint James will recognize the name inmediately. From here departed the very first pelgrim to Santiago. And now it's one of the most popular points of starting.
In a few weeks I will have achieved 1/2 of my Way !!!! :D!!!!!!! It's uncredible. Strange and beautiful. I had a small crisis in the last days of Switzerland and the beginning of France, but now I'm back to full energy. I was thinking of quitting the Way. I don't mean taking my bag and return home, I mean going my own Way. After this point, it is possible that too many people are around. And mass pelgrimages are not what I'm looking for.
Today I'm not too much in the mood of writing. I have found again a computer with SD reader, and I'm going to show you what my eyes are seeing.
The summary is: I'm good. The Way continues. Life tastes good. As always (:
A big big big hug for you!
I love this pic that much. A not so-short deviation of the Way to see the landscape (:
The Pelgrimage Credential. I already need a new one!!
A Samu.
Extra Luxury Pelgrim Meal. Warm rice and beeeeeeer!!!!! This is paradise!!!
It's a long Way to the top if you wanna Rock'n'Roll!!
This photo is old: The green mountains in the front are german. The ones in the bottom left are Austria and the ones in the bottom left are Switzerland. And the Way you see there is my way to Santiago ((:
A pelgrim's bag around Europe
It's foggy in Switzerland
Le Puy-en-Velay with some gravity anomalies
In three or four days I'll be reaching the mountains in the back. And meanwhile I'll be enjoying all in between (:
Dubi dubi duba
The sun sets and the planes fly
This place was amazing. AMAZING.
Goodbye, Alps!
Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name! :3
The Rhone
Those bad clouds did rain like the World was going to end soon.
Nice monuments for stupid wars.
Moooooooooooooooooooooooooh
On y va!!!!
Those who know a bit about the Way of Saint James will recognize the name inmediately. From here departed the very first pelgrim to Santiago. And now it's one of the most popular points of starting.
In a few weeks I will have achieved 1/2 of my Way !!!! :D!!!!!!! It's uncredible. Strange and beautiful. I had a small crisis in the last days of Switzerland and the beginning of France, but now I'm back to full energy. I was thinking of quitting the Way. I don't mean taking my bag and return home, I mean going my own Way. After this point, it is possible that too many people are around. And mass pelgrimages are not what I'm looking for.
Today I'm not too much in the mood of writing. I have found again a computer with SD reader, and I'm going to show you what my eyes are seeing.
The summary is: I'm good. The Way continues. Life tastes good. As always (:
A big big big hug for you!
I love this pic that much. A not so-short deviation of the Way to see the landscape (:
The Pelgrimage Credential. I already need a new one!!
A Samu.
Extra Luxury Pelgrim Meal. Warm rice and beeeeeeer!!!!! This is paradise!!!
It's a long Way to the top if you wanna Rock'n'Roll!!
This photo is old: The green mountains in the front are german. The ones in the bottom left are Austria and the ones in the bottom left are Switzerland. And the Way you see there is my way to Santiago ((:
A pelgrim's bag around Europe
It's foggy in Switzerland
Le Puy-en-Velay with some gravity anomalies
In three or four days I'll be reaching the mountains in the back. And meanwhile I'll be enjoying all in between (:
Dubi dubi duba
The sun sets and the planes fly
This place was amazing. AMAZING.
Goodbye, Alps!
Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name! :3
The Rhone
Those bad clouds did rain like the World was going to end soon.
Nice monuments for stupid wars.
Moooooooooooooooooooooooooh
On y va!!!!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I'm here: http://maps.google.fr/maps?hl=fr&ie=UTF8&ll=45.384954,5.265613&spn=0.001353,0.002401&t=h&z=19
En la France! And tastatures here are incomprehensible, that's why today I'n only putting a short version:
France is great. Spring is there!!!!!!!!! Everything smells incredibly. It's nearly i,possible to find co,puters here. About me, I'm feeling a bit lonely some days (there qre no pelgrims in my age!), but I'm living. And now, I have to live (:
Next time, more and better! Salud§§§§!!!!
En la France! And tastatures here are incomprehensible, that's why today I'n only putting a short version:
France is great. Spring is there!!!!!!!!! Everything smells incredibly. It's nearly i,possible to find co,puters here. About me, I'm feeling a bit lonely some days (there qre no pelgrims in my age!), but I'm living. And now, I have to live (:
Next time, more and better! Salud§§§§!!!!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Time for some pics!
It seems that I am in my lucky phase. After ~500 Km I have finally found a computer to upload some pics!!! I have already mroe than 400, but here you have the best (:
Munich, the very beginning: The Studentenstadt. On the 11th floor of that building I had my very first home in Germany
The Isar, to the south of Munich (The trees hadn't leaves yet!)
Sunrise in the woods after Schäftlarn
Starnberg & my mochila
Bigfoot alert
Just before a magic valley near Starnberg
Radar station in the way to Haid... And the alps were getting closer and bigger each day!!
See those three white stripes at the very background? Well, that's a factory in Munich!!!! :D SOOOO far away!!! The photo was taken at Hohenpeissenberg.
The church at the top of Hohenpeissenberg. The sky was uncredibly blue. For WEEKS.
This farmer came to me when I was nearly dead and we talked about this and that. He was a really good man. Thank you!
Gertrudis and her family. A magic pelgrim that hosted me and gave me peace and strength.
You gotta mooooooooooooove... At 8 am!
This day it snowed like crazy. Really like crazy. Bavarian april!
Everything I need. Excepting bread & water.
Camino de Santiago: Betreten auf eigene Gefahr (cross at your own risk)
Cute switzerland!!!
Maia. A very special pelgrim. Very mature, very sensible, really special. Good life I wish you (:
Cute Switzerland 2
Someone needed a grill and had a car too much.
The big and the small Myth. Perfect name for a great mountain. It feels as if they would be protecting you.
Again, a bit further away.
Amazing Switzerland
Yeah. There you have some pureness.
( )
It's amazing! It's huge! It's powerful! It's silent! It's... It's....!!!
:D
Sleeping in the straw. Really comfortable.
I'm so tired...........
Fribourg, the town of the nice girls! (And the nice medieval houses)
Well, it was actually 2003 km... But who cares!! Let's gooooooooo!!!
This morning was foggy and so nice...
Munich, the very beginning: The Studentenstadt. On the 11th floor of that building I had my very first home in Germany
The Isar, to the south of Munich (The trees hadn't leaves yet!)
Sunrise in the woods after Schäftlarn
Starnberg & my mochila
Bigfoot alert
Just before a magic valley near Starnberg
Radar station in the way to Haid... And the alps were getting closer and bigger each day!!
See those three white stripes at the very background? Well, that's a factory in Munich!!!! :D SOOOO far away!!! The photo was taken at Hohenpeissenberg.
The church at the top of Hohenpeissenberg. The sky was uncredibly blue. For WEEKS.
This farmer came to me when I was nearly dead and we talked about this and that. He was a really good man. Thank you!
Gertrudis and her family. A magic pelgrim that hosted me and gave me peace and strength.
You gotta mooooooooooooove... At 8 am!
This day it snowed like crazy. Really like crazy. Bavarian april!
Everything I need. Excepting bread & water.
Camino de Santiago: Betreten auf eigene Gefahr (cross at your own risk)
Cute switzerland!!!
Maia. A very special pelgrim. Very mature, very sensible, really special. Good life I wish you (:
Cute Switzerland 2
Someone needed a grill and had a car too much.
The big and the small Myth. Perfect name for a great mountain. It feels as if they would be protecting you.
Again, a bit further away.
Amazing Switzerland
Yeah. There you have some pureness.
( )
It's amazing! It's huge! It's powerful! It's silent! It's... It's....!!!
:D
Sleeping in the straw. Really comfortable.
I'm so tired...........
Fribourg, the town of the nice girls! (And the nice medieval houses)
Well, it was actually 2003 km... But who cares!! Let's gooooooooo!!!
This morning was foggy and so nice...
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