I wrote a blog piece on TexasHillCountry.com – I can’
Note: I dictated this into my phone on a remote stretch of the trail. This came purely out of my imagination and has no connection to anyone in particular, except for the young Italian men on mountain bikes passing perilously close; it could have been any one of them.
The pelican knew the human couple were there but she paid little attention to them. Soon there would be sardines near the surface and she would feast. She knew this because there had always been sardines.
The woman lay on her left side looking at nothing in particular although Alessandro was right there in front of her. He was snoring and she was put off by that. She was also smoking a cigarette and that put her off, too. He was so casual and nonchalant about the cigarettes she had worked so hard to stop.
Between them were two bottles of Spanish vino tinto, laying awkwardly on their sides instead of pointing gracefully to heaven. There were scraps of bread, just hard crusts really, too, and olive pits, and ants feasting on a piece of cake fallen into the sand.
He is messy, really. She didn’t say it out loud but she wondered for a moment if she had. She loved some of his messiness, like the part which still leaked out between her legs. His casual and nonchalant disdain for the correctness of the world was charming but it was frightening, too, as if actions really didn’t have consequences. He was always the center of attention and had swept her into his vortex as if she had no choice in the matter, it was just a natural and universal expectation that she would submit to his will.
She saw the pelican hovering in the steady wind blowing in from the ocean but she just assumed that was its place in the world too, just as her place was here in the tiny cove with sand sticking to her body.
Alessandro snorted and shifted his position and she thought he might open his eyes and acknowledge her, but he didn’t.
I could never tell anyone about this. He’s just a kid, for God’s sake.
From a distance she could pass for a woman half her age, which she understood had as much to do with genetics as her lifestyle. It wasn’t until someone got close that they could see the signs; a wrinkle here, stray gray hairs, and perhaps that look of frustration shared by middle-agers.
Allesandro didn’t seem to care or even notice these things as he seemed in such a rush to have her. She shared his bed that very night in the whirlwind of wine and laughter and toasts in Italian and bellisimo and this wasn’t her usual response but when he took her and kissed her in the restaurant she was already his.
And all that after five weeks of walking on the Camino with all the casual friendships and hugs but not a single offer or inducement for any relationship beyond that even as her yoga fashioned body became even more muscular and, she hoped, enticing.
Oh, rejection she was used to, Her ex was a master at that game, and she always came crawling back. With Allesandro there was always acceptance and when he was attentive, it was as if there was no one else in the world, and he thrilled her in a way she had not known since she was a teenager.
And she knew that the eight muscular impulsive bright Lycra-clad cyclists he had ridden in with would be calling soon, and he would be gone like the wind.
She stood and shook the sand from her little black dress and brushed off the sticky sand on her thighs. Looking at him one last time she knew he would be burned by the sun.
At least he will have something to remember me by.
When the bus for Madrid stopped a half hour later she loaded her backpack in the cargo area and climbed on board. Her leaving did not escape the pelican, which had taken an interest in the love affair, even from the distance of a bird.
I met friends from prior trails, David and Kenton, at the Paris Airport on August 16, 2021, and we made our way to central eastern France, the small city of Le Puy en Velay. I had talked about the wonders of France so much that they insisted I take them as neither of them spoke French. This trail is a Camino, connecting up with other Camino trails which all end in Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. The trail itself has the name Via Podiensa or Grande Randonnee (GR) 65. It is one of the most popular trails in Europe, having taken pilgrims to Santiago since the year 950.
This is my third time to walk in France. In September/October of 2018 I went solo and walked from Le Puy to Moissac, about 4 weeks. In 2019 I went in September and walked Figeac to Moissac, 10 days on the “Cele Valley Route,” one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. This year I decided to walk the entire route, 450 miles, from Le Puy en Velay to Saint Jean Pied de Port. I walked from Saint Jean to Santiago in 2017, which created a desire in me to walk more trails in Europe.
Off the coast of west Africa is a volcanic island discovered by Portuguese in the early 1400’s.
Hiking trails in the island’s rocky center are a primary activity for visitors. Steep but constructed trails, many with steps, take tourists along ridge lines above the clouds.
The capital city is full of bars and restaurants and has very little flat land. The nearby airport is partly built on a huge concrete platform. Roads are straight up (or zig zag up ) steep hills, are carved on the sides of cliffs, or in tunnels. Driving is a big part of the adventure.
The east end of the island is not inhabited and has some spectacular hiking trails. The tourists I saw were mostly younger Western Europeans. Many had children in backpacks.
Aqueducts carrying water from the central mountains to farms often go through tunnels. My first trip through this tunnel was scary. The roof was 6 feet above the path. Unfortunately, the top of my head was 6 feet 1 inch above the path. A headlamp is necessary.
The north side of the island is constantly pounded by waves. watching them come in is mesmerizing.
We saw none but were slammed into waves and rain for three hours. I was actually quite an adventure! The 20 minute walk back to the car in the rain was fun, too, because we were soaking wet and it was outside the box.
Hiking in the rain
Here are some places you might find me:
I was inside with the brothers in white this week. If this is not outside your box, I’d like to talk to you about joining our team. It is an experience like no other I’ve had.
Six weeks walking rural southern France is magical, but you spend a lot of time walking uphill. Chemin de Saint Jacques from Le Puy en Velay to Saint Jean Pied de Port.
21 days on the California Mission Trail, San Diego to Santa Barbara including Los Angeles. Two of our foursome walked all the way to San Francisco.
Right across the Rio Grande from Big Bend National Park, and a different world. No phone, internet, electricity, running water, or bathrooms (just outhouses). Plenty of work to do, you can come too. Mision de Candelilla. There is a fee to participate. Sunsets are free.
I call this The Stairway to Heaven. Yes, the trail goes up and over the distant point. If you are afraid of heights, this is not for you. If you are interested, I have the guidebook.
Friends of Enchanted Rock, where I facilitate programs. Do you have one to present? Let me know.
The Llano River, boys, and kayaks.
I’ve walked to the end of the Earth ….Where to next?
Walking to Rome, May 2022.
I usually write blog posts from the trail, but on this last trip, I couldn’t come up with anything to say. Perhaps I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all: the beauty of the landscape, the beauty of my fellow pilgrims, the beauty of the hospitality. Better late than never?
In the last 5 years I’ve had 7 adventures I call once in a lifetime trips. I have the time, the health, and the money (albeit, not that much money is required), so I go. My prior adventures were usually backpacking in the mountains of the American west. This last August 15 through September (2021) I spent 6 weeks on the trail in France, out the door every morning and into a different door in the afternoon. For the first few weeks I walked with Kenton and David, friends from prior trails. They felt they needed a guide for a walk in France and mistakenly believe I speak better French than I do. We went in the usual fashion, no reservations for anything after we got off the train in Le Puy en Velay in far eastern France. There was a lot of ‘pent up demand’ and the trails were busy, and finding a bed for the night was a challenge. However, we always found a place to stay, most of which were typical of the French system of Gites d’Etape: amazing. Kenton left us after two weeks for pressing business at home, but David continued until his full month was up, leaving us to party with the Three Musketeers in Condom. In Moissac we were joined by friends from prior trails, Josette and Anne Marie, who had organized the last 3 weeks by reserving a bed for us each night months earlier.
The first section of this trail is hard, with steep ups and downs every day; several days we gained 2,500 feet in the first couple of hours. Some days we walked a mere 10 or 12 miles, some days 20. The weather was perfect for walking, and we only needed our rain gear on one day late in the trip. The condition of the trail in France is generally very good, and when we walked on paved roads, there was little or no vehicular traffic. Most often the vehicles were slow-moving tractors with courteous drivers. The first part is called the Aubrac, and the scenery includes high, windswept plateaus, where the trail goes between low rock walls and wildflowers. As with all of this trail, there were always far more cows than people.
This is the most popular section of the trail, with amazing scenery and fabulous villages.
I stop in every church along the way, appreciate their artwork and the role it has played in the lives of so many people, and usually light a candle for someone. If Anne Marie is there, she will sing.
The rest of the trail, which ends in Saint Jean Pied-de-Port close to the Spanish border, was seldom flat, almost always undulating hills of corn or sunflowers, interspersed with limestone hills covered with pastures and oak forests. For me the great joy of this trail is being immersed in rural French culture, and we had plenty of opportunity to experience it. I found the people who support pilgrims on the Chemin, just like the pilgrims themselves, to be up, happy, positive people.
Lodging on the trail includes hotels and chambres d’hotes and bed and breakfasts, but most nights I’ve been able to stay in hostels called gites d’etape. Guests are primarily walkers, and typically they have beds for 10-15 people. Sometimes all the beds are in one room, sometimes only two or three beds, and sometimes you can have a private room. There is often only one bathroom for all the guests. I always arrange for a bed the day before, three or four days before if it will be a weekend in a popular tourist town, by calling the host on the phone. You don’t give a credit card number; I just tell them I’m Robert from Texas. We usually arrive at 3, and the host has you sit down at a table outside and brings you water with flavorings (that is a European thing, I’ve never seen it elsewhere). I think they are getting you to chill out and cool down. I take off my boots as they are not allowed inside and put on my after trail sandals. Then the host, who is often making preparations for dinner, comes and sits down at the table with you.
The gite hosts are tres sympathique and often ask you about your day, then they explain their system. Boots here, packs here, put the things you need in this tub to take to your bed, the shower is here, the commode here, the clothes washing sink and clothesline are here (lately they have washing machines and sometimes dryers!), and here is your sleeping room. Dinner is at 7:00, there is beer and wine and soda in this fridge (there is a price list too, and a small tin for your coins). Seldom is payment made at this time; traditionally the guests line up at the end of the dinner to pay the tarif and get a stamp in their credentiale. The host will not likely be at breakfast and they will point out where to find the breakfast items. Often the first pilgrim to breakfast turns on the coffee pot. The tarif is usually around 40 Euro, about $50. If you are in a village, pilgrims seek out the local bar, and you will make lots of new friends and catch up with old ones (old friends on camino are people you met at least the day before!). These beers are only about $3 each.
Dinners often start with an apertif of cognac or homemade brandy, followed by an appetizer, main course, cheese plate, dessert, and then another shot of brandy. There is wine and food on the table. Sometimes the first bottle of wine is a local delight, but after that it is box wine. However, its France, so the box wine is good. Dinner takes 2 to 3 hours and often the host eats with the pellerin (pilgrims). The conversation is all in French, so if you don’t speak it, try to sit next to someone who speaks both French and English. French Canadians are the best for this! Often the talk is about the trail; what was today like, what to expect tomorrow, what is the weather forecast. Sometimes it is local history, and sometimes you can find out some things about the host. You will get to know most or all of the pilgrims each day. Gites are typically open May through October, 7 nights a week, with a new group of pilgrims every day. Sometimes they have housekeeping and cooking help, but often it is a one person show. Hosts tend to know the other hosts in the area and can recommend the best ones if you ask. The food is usually extraordinary. The beds usually have a bottom sheet and a blanket only, towels are not provided. There are not as many bunkbeds in France as in Spain and Portugal.
This is Gite Ferme de Trigodena in the country a day’s walk past Cahors. The host, Remy, standing in the background wearing a blue t-shirt, is a carpenter and horseshoer who has a truffle farm for the off season. After dinner he often plays the piano for guests. The music may bring tears to your eyes and is purely magical. He wrote a song about the Chemin which is quite fun, as you know the places and some of the people in the song.
This Chemin began in Le Puy en Velay six weeks earlier, and here is the finish, 450 miles later, at the Port de Saint Jacques in the French town of Saint Jean Pied-de-Port. This is the starting point for the most popular section of the pilgrimage, the Camino Frances. This trail begins in France, hence the name, but by noon you are in Spain. All the Camino trails end up in Santiago de Compostela (Saint James of the Field of Stars) in northwest Spain. There are many other trails in this system and it is my goal to walk them all. Pilgrims in France greet each other with bon chemin and in Spain with buen camino. I often greet fellow walkers with my own version, happy trails.
Postcript
If you want to try this experience, I will be glad to help you get it together. The only essential items are a passport, a Covid vaccination card or electronic equivalent, and a debit card to get cash from ATMs. Everything else you can buy there. However, you will probably come equipped with a backpack (I have a 38 liter Osprey) and trail clothes designed to be hand washed in a sink and dried on a clothesline. I limit this to one pair of shorts, one pair of long pants, two t-shirts, two long sleeved shirts, three pairs of socks, three pairs of underwear. I carry a rain jacket and rain pants and a very lightweight down jacket. My walking shoes are low-tops (heavy backpacking boots are not necessary). If I take a sleeping bag it is 1 or 2 pounds only, my pack is 16-18 pounds and I do carryon only on flights. You are always going to have a bed, dinner, and a bathroom. A cell phone is very helpful for calling ahead for a bed; this didn’t used to be required, but has of late. I find a guidebook to be essential and can recommend one depending on the trail you are planning. Trails are well marked and you can usually find lunch and water on the way, and if that is not the case the guidebook will warn you to get your lunch before you leave the village. Lunch can be at fabulous restaurants and it can be a sandwich from the last bakery, and they are both wonderful. Americans walk spring and fall and Europeans in summer. The American Pilgrims on the Camino website and Facebook page provide lots of information.
If you want to join me, come meet me on the trail. I’m hoping for 2-3 trips in 2022, and Italy for all of May.
Happy Trails!
In French it is called the Chemin de Saint Jacques, in Spanish the Camino de Santiago de Compostella, or, for many, simply Compostelle, a collection of trails ending at the great Cathedral in Santiago in far northwest Spain. Pilgrims, or peregrinos in Spanish and pellerin in French, greet each other with Buen Camino or Bon Chemin! Or, as I am wont to say, Happy Trails! If you are struggling up a long hill, the French may say, Courage!
I have a flight to Paris the 15th of August. I’ll meet several trail friends in Le Puy en Velay and plan to walk the entire GR65 to St Jean Pied de Port, arriving there at the end of September. I will take you along with me. With about 6 weeks to go, I am keeping my fingers crossed, getting medical needs attended to (grrrrr) and squirreling away cash. I’m going over my gear to see if I have everything needed. I’m trying to decide if I’m taking my sleeping bag (I think no) and my rain pants (undecided). I’m perusing airline ticket booking sites trying to find the right flights, not as simple as it used to be.
This is in Moissac, a little over half-way from Le Puy, and as far as I’ve been. The remaining 20 days will be less mountainous than the first 20 days were, and there aren’t so many famous villages; the “Plus Beaux Villages de France”. But there will be plenty of adventure and great companionship. I’m reading posts by two Americans currently on the trail, eager to see how the pilgrim support infrastructure – lodging (gites d’etape) and cafe-bars and boulangeries have recovered from the pandemic shutdowns.
Until then, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. But in the meantime, feel free to call me “Rober(t)” pronounced without the t. When I call ahead for a place to stay, I say, “Bonjour, je m’appelle Rober, je suis un pelerin du Texas. Avez-vous un lit pour ce soir?”
The Place
The trail runs from San Diego to San Francisco, about 800 miles. I experienced the southern section, from San Diego to Santa Barbara, which took 21 days. The southernmost part of the trail is most often along the busy coastal highway. It takes one along the tops of sea-side cliffs and sometimes across vast beaches of yellow sand. The towns along the way are busy with tourists and surfers, and were lively, beautiful, and expensive. We stayed in hotels, all four of us in one room, to make it affordable for all. The second week was in urban Los Angeles, where we spent 8 days on sidewalks, waiting for traffic lights, walking neighborhoods to get away from the traffic and noise. One city turns into the next, until, just in the nick of time, you walk up and over Old Susanna Pass into the Simi Valley. On day 19 we were back at the ocean just south of Ventura. The path north from there ran along a railroad line and sometimes there was relief from the traffic. Much of the way is on paved bike paths separated from the traffic by sturdy steel barriers; other sections are a bike path simply delineated by a white stripe on the pavement, and in less busy places we walked the shoulder along vast fields of lemon and avocado trees, greenhouses full of flowers, artichokes, and cilantro. Laura sought out and walked miles along beaches, while the rest of us spent more time on the cliff-top paths.
The People
Our group of four came together quickly – Laura invited Kenton, who she had met on the Portuguese Camino in 2018. He invited me; we had also met on the Portuguese Camino and again on the European Peace Walk in 2019. Camino walkers can be relied on to know what they are in for and have a positive attitude. Luis, also a Camino veteran, set out solo, only finding out about us at the last minute. California Mission Walkers have a great Facebook page and they have Brigid, who met us in San Diego. The FB page makes coordination easy, and when we reached the Los Angeles area we had the amazing experience of being hosted. We didn’t know what to expect, and Dawn and Steve set the bar pretty high. They picked us up at the end of our first LA day and took use to their home, filled us with food and beer and wine and made places for us to sleep. In the morning they took us back where we had finished the day before. We played pool and told stories and took naps and after four nights were picked up in the same fashion by Kenneth and Karen for more of the same, followed by Tim and Cristy, Kurt and Rose, and finally Debbie. These wonderful people treated us like honored guests.
The Journey
The historic missions are beautiful, none more so than San Juan Capistrano with its old buildings framed by bright flowers and blue sky. They seem more museums than spiritual places to me, but that may be just my experience. If there had been no missions on the way I don’t think it would have mattered. Hour after hour of trudging on pavement and waiting for traffic lights and looking for available bathrooms (few and far between) in the LA area make the walking day hard. We walked between 12 and 16 miles each day and didn’t set a destination until one appeared. We had conversations about our widely varied spiritual beliefs and understandings. Luis, a native of Los Angeles, is not typical of its residents; he is all Basque and no Latino; a man of letters. He interpreted the vast city for us. When I needed distraction from the pavement, I could walk up beside him and say the title of a book or movie, and a long and detailed discussion would begin. Laura guided us with the Gaia mapping app and had more energy and enthusiasm than Kenton and I put together. Her younger son Julien, who overflows with enthusiasm and creative spirit, walked with us for a few days, and her husband Todd met up with the group in Santa Barbara for a week. She explores the edges of human consciousness and spirituality, and I regret not picking her brain more about her view of free will (it seems you will have all the time in the world until it’s over). Kenton marveled at the beauty of the setting, from houses to landscaping and seascapes, the fantastic food, always appearing on the verge of saying, “I’m moving here next week.” We felt like we knew Butch Briery as we used his guide and pored over every word, although we didn’t meet. We did meet Sandy Brown, whose guide will come to define the journey in a few years There is something heroic about through-hiking this trail, which not many have done, and I expect by the final mission near San Francisco the journey would provide its own unique enlightenment. .
What clearly stands out on this trail are the people supporting pilgrims. This would be a difficult journey solo, as there is no pilgrim infrastructure and you will not meet other pilgrims. But the trail has Brigid and Pam and Linda and Dawn and Steve and Tim and Cristy and Kurt and Rose and Kenneth and Karon and Debbie, and they make the California Mission Trail the unique experience it is.
My personal gear included a 38 liter Osprey pack, small enough for carry-on but large enough to hold everything I need for a long trip. I wore a new pair of Oboz Arete low hiking shoes, lightweight and comfortable, designed for pavement, and I never had a blister. I needed a jacket for cool April evenings, shorts for daytime and long pants for evenings, a raincoat just in case, and a broad brimmed hat. I took camping gear but when it became clear we wouldn’t find camping opportunities, I mailed it home. I carried no food and 1 quart of water.
Will I finish this trail? I suspect the trip north of Santa Barbara is different than what I experienced, and would like to see it. However, France looks to be a possibility for September, and I plan to finish the Camino from Moissac to St Jean Pied de Port next (2 weeks). Next spring, Lord willing and the creeks don’t rise, I’ll walk Via Francigena from Canterbury to Rome. Kenton is on the waiting list for John Muir Trail in August. Luis is taking the remainder in sections, beginning next weekend. Laura is always moving forward, relentlessly pursuing her goal of completing the entire trail.
We have been inland since Newport Beach. We spent two days walking by an enormous concrete ditch. We just did a bit of this today. I was glad to see water and plant life . We have walked 20 miles of concrete.
None of us are golfers but we all appreciated $5 pints of good beer here. All beer prior to this was $8. After 14.5 miles today, we needed it.
For 4 nights Steve and Dawn have picked us up at the end of our walk, fed us great food, and taken us back to our next starting point. Tomorrow we get a new host for the next section.
The days of walking on concrete have but one redeeming value for me – the people I am walking with and the people who are supporting us. The first week of beaches was great, but the concrete canyons of the LA area- not inspiring. I might as well be walking through San Antonio.
Kenton is a business owner from Illinois. Laura an adventurer from Montana. Luis is a Gallego (a Spanish cultural people) from Los Angeles. We are as different as can be. That we are all walking this trail together is sublime serendipity.
robertcdeming 