Just Travellin Through

Camino Primitivo Day 1 (work in progress)

2021-07-01T19:31:00.087-07:00

It has been 5 years since I've updated this blog. I felt that I need to update it again especially since I have the tale of the unfinished Camino Primitivo which I did in 2018 but unable to finish. I still would like to go back in Spain and finish it when this pandemic is over. Although admittedly the Primitivo trail is perhaps the toughest walks I've been to. It was not what I originally intended. I would have wanted to do the Camino Del Norte. But i think I will have that opportunity again.

But first here is my attempt to tell the story.

This was the first time I did the Camino with a friend. In hindsight that was a bad decision. My buddy had to finish the walk in two weeks and the route was quite cramped for the 2-week route, especially since the trail for each day is about 30km and the terrain is uneven unlike what I was used to in the Camino Frances or Camino Portugues way.

I was winding down on my Europe backpacking trip then. I was working as a a nomad already then and I was actually planning to take a leave. Unfortunately my client did not want me to get off grid. He just wants me to check in at least one hour each day. So I had to bring my laptop for the walk, which in hindsight was a terrible idea.

Day 1, I left most of my stuff at the house of my friend whom I 've met in Murcia when I was still a grad student in 2015. I transferred my bag at her place in one of the suburbs of Madrid. So with a light load already I took a bus to Oviedo from Madrid.

I am so impressed with the bus system in Madrid. It was quite easy to book a travel online. I made the reservation through Alsa and proceeded to Madrid Estacion Sur. It had 2 major levels. The first floor which contains the cafe, the shopsand the ticket booths and the lower level where the bus would park when it is time to pick up passenger. There were about 40 terminals at the lower level. There are international routes but mostly only within the country.

There is a big board that shows the arrivals and departures of trains. It is advisable to wait at the bench on the first floor and go to the bat area 15 minutes before boarding.

The trip to Oviedo was uneventful. I was looking at my google map from time to time to check how far away we were from the destination. The town for some reason reminded me of Valenca, Portugal or other lesser known towns in Spain, There is ithe bus station that is about 1 to2 kilometers from the town square. The central park or garden seemed to me like a trapezoid. There was a wide avenue the separates it from the block of commercial shops. While crossing I get to be reminded of the parking area that used to be in the area fronting Net Cube, my former office in GE.

We've spent two nights in Oviedo exploring the city before starting the trek on the first of October. The first stage was from Oviedo to Grado.

We went to have breakfast in an area near the cathedral and by that time we already have our pilgrimage passport which we got the day before. We ordered the breakfast meal of the day I think I had the usual coffee, bread (with my favorite tomato spread) and maybe salad.

We walked outside of the city and it reinforced my impression of Oviedo just like the city of Leon where I first started my Camino France. Initially there were lots of business establishments in the central area, maybe for a radius of 3 kilometers . Then slowly the business establishments would start to thin out and are replaced by would by big flat dull buildings most likely used as warehouses. then these too are slowly replaced by farm houses. You know like the ones that we're occupy the suburbs and I will assume that these are the houses of the farmers they have begun.

They have wide gardens and backyards so definitely that's the way of life in that area and walked we further I think we we passed by a hilly park it you know the the ground started to go up so I think we are now moving towards some hilly areas. And it's a blur right now but we did have a couple of pictures sessions and then there was this guy who was walking behind us and we asked him to take our picture and from then on he joined us in the walk. His name is Ruben he is from Madrid.

Nestor and Robin started to have a conversation. We stopped by this chapel which had a white frontage painted white and it actually reminded me of an almost abandoned chapel I encountered when I did the Camino Portuguese.

The chapel actually is constructed on a hill with expansive view. I recall taking a leak with such a marvelous view. I remember posing in front of the chapel

I would like to have photos now and then so not typical Filipinos but they're not Filipinos and I was thinking that maybe on my next Camino I should be walking with a Filipino so that you know we get to share The pictures together and and I think I had them no no no no we we were looking for a place to eat and actually we made a wrong detour and that's why we had to go back and take a shortcut which would pass by the hill it was rather a steep ascent I had difficulty catching my breath and I just told Nestor and Robin to go ahead make an order

It was a bit tricky I'm going to as we walked along because it was confusing whether you know the path would lead to the appropriate route or not and fortunately I made the right call otherwise I would have been lost and uh I found finally found Nestor and Rebecca waiting for me

I actually stumbled upon a group of Polish peregrinos and we're about 4 middle age ladies and they had a they had a tour guide probably in early twenties.

I trailed back and I think I arrived maybe 10 minutes later and we shared a generous serving of fabada

Oh my God I missed the fabada. It was rich and had an awesome combination of the meat and the fabada beans. Although I hate to admit that I prefer actually the canned fabada of Mercadona. I guess my taste sort of adopted to it.

After lunch we walked again but then my client gave me a call so I told them to go ahead while I take the call. I asked them to go ahead and you know did you just have to wait for me if need be ands and I recall having call I'm having a selfie taken together and I feel awful because I thought that they probably waited a long time for me and then I think we we passed by an area where there's a Valley looks like a deep Valley and then there's I remember what I remember what there's a stream passing through it and I love actually the view I wish I had more time because I would have wante I wouldn't want to take a picture but then we went along and finally we reach I think Grado I think that's the name of the place grado I recall we Nestor and I had a picture with a sign board and then

We checked in at a private albergue. I recall hobbling. I had a difficulty walking after we we checked we checked in in actually.

I liked the sleeping quarters although the bed foam was rather sticky for me. In the evening we went to look for a place I think we ate at this place where they were serving I think little hamburgers. Ruben decided not to join us because he did not like the type of food being served.

I recall that I learned the term heramianta that night which is the Spanish word for tools and because I asked ruben about it and I think that's about it that's how I recall my 1st day of the Camino

Camino de Santiago Tips

2016-11-15T03:11:00.001-08:00

A friend of mine recently asked for some tips for his Camino Adventure. So here is a list I made. Hope you'll find it useful.

Camino de Santiago Tips

Watch the movie “The Way” starring Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez to give you an idea of the walk.
You might want to read “The Pilgrimage” as well by Paulo Coelho. (Although I have not yet read this book)
The most recommended route would be the Camino Frances or the French way.
If your schedule fits, you may want to walk the entire stretch coming from St. Jean Pied de Port which is from France near the border. The entire walk would take about 30-35 days , 700 kilometres .
I f you want to start halfway, recommended starting point would be Burgos or Leon.
Best time to travel would be just after summer around September (to avoid the crowd)
Download the app Camino Pilgrim which gives you an idea of the recommended stops as well as the albergues, supermarkets, pharmacies along the way. I am not sure if this is available in Apple.
You can buy the Pilgrim’s passport at the major stops. You need this to be stamped when you enter the albergue. You need the passport in order to claim your certificate at Santiago.
Travel light. Leave the unnecessary stuff behind. My rule of thumb is to bring 3 sets of clothes. You can have your laundry every 3 days.
Add 50% buffer in your travel time so you won’t be pressured and you can travel at your own desired pace.
Buy a local SIM.
Don’t forget to pack the following: slippers, headlight or flashlight, wet wipes, adaptor, mulitplug adaptor, ziplock bags, trash bag, ear plugs, sun block, microfiber towel.
Try to fit everything in a 20-liter bag
Don’t be prudish. Some albergues especially the municipal ones or Xunta have communal showers. They cost 6euros/night/person. For more privacy you can opt for the private albergues which cost about 10 to 15 euros.
Bring a stone – There is a tradition of bringing a stone at the start of your journey and then leaving it at Cruz de Hiero. This symbolizes atonement for one’s sins.
Bring a water bottle. It’s good to be always hydrated. There are water filling stations along the way
Bring waterproof shoes that you’ve used for at least a month. This ensures that your feet are comfortable in it.
Bring a poncho as rain might happen especially in the Galicia area.
Bring ibuprofen, loperamide, blister strips
Avoid getting your feet damp. This could easily develop into blisters which can be extremely painful and slow you down.
I normally rest after walking for 4 kilometres.
Plan to walk 20-30 kilometers per day.
Be wary of Sundays. Most supermarkets are closed so ensure that you have food available during these days.
Towards autumn, the sun can go down pretty fast. Make sure that by 4pm, an albergue is within 4 km radius so you can check in before sundown.
Learn a few Spanish phrases. A lot of Spanish people barely speak English so they would really appreciate if you can utter a few familiar words.
Take photos, a phone camera should suffice
Plan to arrive before noon at Santiago de Compostela so you can attend the mass for the pilgrims at 12 noon. Bags are not allowed inside the church. You can deposit them at nearby shops for a minimal fee.
When getting your certificate you can request for a personalized one for an additional fee. This would include your name, your starting point and the distance you have travelled.
Make friends along the way.
Have fun ! The journey will be over before you know it. Enjoy every minute of the Camino experience.

Camino Frances Day 13

2016-08-10T03:42:00.001-07:00

I couldn’t believe that my journey was nearing its end. That night in O’ Pedrouzo as I was preparing my stuff, there was an air of anticipation and excitement for everyone. Like all pilgrims knew that no matter what, come morning, our journey was coming to a close. I felt a mixture of happiness and sadness.

The albergue chosen by Robi was a quaint one, it had two floors and was spacious. Being one of the early occupants, he was able to secure a cool spot. The room was big, probably around a hundred bunks, so the corner spot, he reserved at the far end of the room offered a bit of privacy. The ceiling was slanted in our area, reminiscent of a cozy attic.

Robi developed a shin splint hence walked only 2 kilometers from Santa Irene to O’ Pedrouzo. I considered it a blessing in disguise since it gave me the chance to finally catch up with him on Day 12. And so for the last leg of the Camino Day 13, Robi and I had the chance of walking together again.

We stepped unto the street of O’ Pedrouzo at 6:30 am, the chill of a foggy dawn greeting us. We estimated that at a rate of 4 kilometers per hour we would be reaching Santiago before noon. We planned to catch the midday mass at the cathedral specifically offered to the pilgrims.

If not for the streetlights, we would have groped our way. I realized how dark it really was when our path turned left into the woods. We turned on our flashlights, its brightness only enough to shine a few meters of our path due to the fog. I wouldn’t dare walk into the woods if I were alone in that darkness. We walked rather slowly because of Robi’s shin splint. A lone pilgrim overtook us. I admired his courage to venture alone in the darkness. It would be easy to get lost if one missed a turn. After a few minutes we came upon a fork. We shone the flashlights several times before finally seeing a small arrow pointing to the left.

We walked on, excitement building up as were on the last day. By the time the sun rose from the horizon it was still quite misty. I told Robi to go ahead as I took my time taking pictures. A photo of a spider’s cobweb here, a shot of a pair of boots there.

Robi had a bit of difficulty walking but I didn’t mind our pace. I was offering him a dose of ibuprofen but he had qualms about taking medicine.

The path led us to a hillside with a view- Monte De Gozo. It was a shame it was foggy. Otherwise we could have seen the three spires of the cathedral from this vantage point. Monte de Gozo meant Hill of Joy, it is said that pilgrims cry out in joy in this part upon seeing the end of their journey.

Monte De Gozo was the last hill before the cathedral. The remainder of the path was paved asphalt and descending. It led us near the airport on that foggy morning as I could hear the rumble of planes taking off and landing. Just from the frequency of plane sound I surmised that Santiago was a rather busy city.

A big sign saying Santiago De Compostela in bold red letters greeted us as we entered the central part of Santiago. We obviously posed for posterity.

We thought we were close to about 2 kilometers from the destination.

Twice we had to ask for the direction to the cathedral because the yellow sign was not so obvious in the central area.

When at last I came to see the church spires, it seemed that my heart would burst for joy. I cannot believe that the past 13 days went like a blur and there I was, flesh and blood, with blisters and all finally seeing the cathedral of Santiago.

We came in just in time, almost noon. We deposited our bags so we could attend the mass. It was solemn and I offered all my petitions and the petitions I have received from friends and family.

After the mass, we lingered a bit to marvel at the majesty of the church interiors. We met the other pilgrims. Some looked very familiar, either I’ve seen them on the road or we were booked in the same hostel. They were all beaming, proud of making it through the journey.

I saw Eugene the guy from Gerona who was my roommate in Trebadelo.

Robi met a lot of pilgrims who started their journey with him in St Jean Pied de Port. They hugged each other as if long lost friends.

After the mass we claimed our certificates. Mine indicated my Latin name and the distance I travelled -300 kilometers. We hung around a bit in front of the cathedral and had posterity shots although I was a bit disappointed that the scaffolding ruined what otherwise would have been a spectacular view of the landmark. I was happy to see again David the Mexican guy I met in the Melide albergue.

To celebrate our journey’s end, Robi and I had lunch buffet with three Koreans at Carrefour -about 2 kilometers from the center. I did not mind the distance, 2 kilometers seemed a piece of cake when you’ve just walked 300 kilometers.

We stayed at a private albergue named La Estrella de Santiago which offered 6 euros/night. It was the cheapest we could find, a little far from the center but it had great amenities.

Florent who was our roommate in Astorga also happened to be booked in the same place. And so the three of us had a mini-reunion. Florent walked 2000 kilometers, Robi 700 and I 300. We chatted a bit over a bottle of wine bought at the neighborhood supermercado.

As Robi was still set to go to the coast (Finisterre) which is about another 3 days, I gave him my cane as a gift.

I have booked my trip back to Madrid via Blabla car. I was set to be picked at the Santiago De Compostela train station at 4am.

At 3 am I took one last glance of my albergue then shut the main door behind. I did not bother waking up Robi. I had given him already my Buen Camino.

300 kilometers

13 days

It had been an awesome journey, definitely something for the books.

The past 13 days went like a blur. It had been a tough walk with shin splint and blisters. My will had been tested several times and yet I made it. I recalled the past few days, a sea of faces flashed before me, the German guy who gave me medicine in Acebo, the bar tender in Foncebadon, Christian my first roommate in the walk. I thought about all the pilgrims I’ve met in this wonderful journey, each with their own stories, triumphs and trials. They are most likely back in their own lives, in their own unfolding stories. Most I won’t ever see again. They will now forever be part of my memories of my walk to Santiago.

In my heart I knew I will be back again.

Camino Frances Day 12

2016-07-26T17:00:00.003-07:00

The albergue in Melide was one of the best I’ve stayed in this Camino - yet I experienced the worst night there. It was because of the rowdy guests from another room. They were bantering way past midnight and one lad went inside our room to hide from his friends. This despite the lights out already. It went for about 3 times until an exasperated German lady gave a scolding and rose off her bed to lock the door. I’ve heard that Spanish pilgrims tend to be a raucous bunch but what happened that night was definitely over the top. I wished that the incident were more of an exception than the rule for juvenile Spanish pilgrims.

The albergue had two floors, I hobbled down to have a glimpse of the kitchen in the morning. With only limited choices in the vending machine, I decided to just take my breakfast on the first bar along the way, which in hindsight was a bad idea -the next bar had I checked the app was 5 kilometers away.

I referred to the Google map to seek the exit from Melide. After passing by several narrow streets I finally found the side road designated for the Camino route. Robi was about 25 kilometers away. I proposed that he walked a shorter distance that day so I could catch up with him on Day 13 and we could walk the last leg of the Camino. The plan was for us to meet up at O Pedrouzo. This meant that I had to walk 33 kilometers for the day, a little more than my usual daily average.

My blisters had gone much much worse now. The day before I can still fool my mind to disregard the pain. But this time around, the pain kept on hounding me. Incessant, unyielding, seeking attention. Every step was excruciatingly painful. If only cutting off my feet was an option. The morning was chilly yet perspiration beaded on my forehead. Every godawful step required willpower. Maybe the pain would go away. “It’s all in the mind, I challenged myself”. And yet it didn’t.

Emotional pain was one thing. Experiencing physical pain was an entirely different matter. I would have chosen emotional anguish over deep-seated physical pain any time of the day. Every step was tormenting, yet I know that each one will be bring me closer to salvation. “Only two more days to go”, I coaxed myself.

My pace was slower than usual. A couple of pilgrims overtook me. I didn’t mind. I just needed to survive the walk that day and it would soon be over.

Pained, hungry and exhausted, I was so glad to see an unmanned fruit stand in the middle of the woods. After what seemed like ages, finally an available food supply. It’s signage” El Pequeno Oasis” was apt. I got two bananas and an apple, and dropped the appropriate amount on the coin box. The fruits alleviated my hunger but not the pain of the damn blisters.

Thirty minutes later I spotted a coffee shop. Normally I would have gone ahead already but I thought of giving myself a cheat break if only to have a break from the painful walk.

I was glad to meet David in the cafe, a Mexican roommate in Melide albergue. His route was the Camino De La Plata which was the first time I heard about it. The route he followed was mostly for nature-loving folks as the path were in the untouched parts of the Asturias region. I would eventually learn that this path was one of the most challenging Camino routes.

David seemed fascinated by a beehouse in front of the cafe; he took a picture of it with his handy digicam. I asked him to take my photo with my reliable phone. He went ahead after he had his breakfast. I lingered a bit to massage my soles. By now my blisters had grown into big bulging bubbles. If I had only a sharp safety pin with me I would have gloatingly pricked them if only to avenge for the suffering they had brought me.

The foursome group I met in Triacastela, O Cerebreiro (who also stayed at the Melide albergue upon my recommendation) took their breakfast at the shop. The British guy noticed my pained look and offered a blister strip. I used to think he was haughty but his gesture totally debunked that. I profusely gave my thanks. I plastered it the wrong way though and so the walk was still painful when I resumed.

The next two hours had been pure torture. I did not pause to take any pictures along the way. My mind was just set to reach Arzua, eight kilometers away which had a pharmacy. I was dead set to buy blister strips and ibuprofen.

Around 1130 I paused at a clearing just after I ascended a path. Each step felt like my foot was being stabbed. I was longing to see Arzua already. A pair of pilgrims who were Asians passed by, they looked familiar although I can no longer which part of the route I have met them. I asked if they knew how far Arzua was. They must have sensed the look of desperation on my face and asked me what was wrong. When the guy learned about my blisters he offered an ibuprofen tablet. I ran out of water already (maybe that explained why I felt so exhausted) so I just swallowed the tablet. I took a photo of the exact scene so I would not forget that point of the walk where I almost passed out.

I never got to see the Asian guy again. I wished I did. I owed him that painkiller he gave me. It did alleviate the pain. After 30 minutes I have finally hit Arzua. I immediately went to the pharmacy and brought ibuprofen and blister strips. I grabbed a liter of water, bread and salchicon from the nearby supermarket and sat on a bench. While I took ibuprofen only half hour earlier I took another tablet. I decided that extra dosage is needed to counteract the torture.

Miraculously the pain subsided and I was on my way again. I was surprised to see David on the path again. I got ahead of him earlier because he was taking his time in taking pictures of the surroundings (this explained why he perhaps took the Camino Primitivo. This route meets Camino Frances in the Melide to Santiago leg). I asked him to take a photo of me. Surprisingly the shot captured a smile that belied the ordeal I had earlier that day. As David’s pace was faster than mine I bade him farewell with the usual “Buen Camino”.

I passed by a house where some thought-provoking quotes were posted. I took some shots. At this point the foursome group caught up with me.

I passed by a phalanx of pines trees that looked creepy even in mid afternoon. If I were a horror movie director this would definitely be one of the shooting locations.

At 330 I stopped by a road-side café. There was a weather-beaten old man with a black dog and a peculiar pilgrim passport. Instead of the usual stamps he had signatures of pilgrims- he had done the Camino a couple of times already hence was no longer interested for the stamps. Pleased to know that I came from the Philippines he asked for my signature. He had not gotten any from a Filipino before. I was pleased to oblige.

According to the Google map, Pedrouzo was still 8 kilometers. It would be past 4 pm soon and I was aware of the risk of being on the road during sundown. But I needed to catch up with Robbie who already sent me a Whatsapp message that he had already checked in at a municipal albergue in Pedrouzo. He actually placed some of his stuff on a bunk across him to reserve it for me.

I saw that the last leg for the day would fall along the highway, so even if I failed to reach the albergue by sundown, there would still be light from the road. So I violated my 4 by 4 rule and went on.

The thought of meeting Robi soon, made me walk faster, the blisters still hounding but the pain had subsided considerably.

Thankfully just as the last thumbnail of the sun disappeared on the horizon I found the albergue.

I was overjoyed to meet Robi again. I never would have thought that I would catch up with him again and yet there we were reunited in O Pedrouzo. We had pizza, fries and beer to celebrate our reunion.

At the end of a challenging day we had only 20 kilometers left to walk.

Santiago De Compostela was now within our reach.

Camino Frances Day 11

2016-07-14T03:22:00.005-07:00

The idea that I had only 80 kilometers more to go prodded me to wake up early. For this day I had planned to walk about 28 kilometers to reach Melide. I learned from Robi the night before through Whatsapp that his stop was Melide. He was now about a day’s hike ahead- I was resigned at this point to the fact that I would only be able to meet him again in Santiago de Compostela should he decide to stay there for one more night.

I left behind a pair of short pants whose buckle got damaged during the walk. Any other day, I would have brought it with me but in this hike where every ounce of load was crucial I had to make a tough call. I put it inside one of the drawers in the kitchen along with a pack of extra earphones (the cheap ones handed out in Renfe trains), hoping a pilgrim could find them useful.

There were only 4 or 5 of us in the albergue. When I stepped out most pilgrims were still on their beds. Pilgrims do not say “goodbye” to each other. The greeting “Buen camino” served this purpose.

Though it was already half past seven in the morning, it was still dark. This time I made sure that I was following the right route and used my cellphone to shine on the path. The cobalt blue sky had a marvelous view of the moon and two planets forming a nice alignment. With the heavenly bodies behind the silhouette of an oak tree with sprawling branches, I was reminded of a line in Desiderata.

“You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Therefore be at peace with God whatever you conceive Him to be.”

I started the Camino with a lot of emotional baggage. I was hoping that the walk would clear my mind a bit and give me a glimmer of hope however my future would unfold. In the comforting chill of that breaking dawn, I felt a different kind of peace as if my burdens had suddenly become light.

I trudged for about 30 minutes, hoping to spot an open café on the next stop which according to the Camino app was 1.5 kilometres ahead. To my dismay it was closed. Most likely because it was already off-season for hiking. The busy periods are actually July to September with the number tapering off in October. Some albergues and establishments no longer operate after October.

I trod on and my best bet was Eirexe which was 5.6 kilometers from Hospital da Cruz. The night before, Robi requested if I could pick the clothes he left inside the dryer of the Municipal Albergue in Eirexe. I told him that I would try my best as albergues aren’t open until after 1 pm. True enough it was still closed when I passed by- around a little over 8 in the morning. I was half-glad because it saved me the trouble of additional load. Sorry Robi.

Fortunately the bar right across Eirexe albergue was open so I finally had my much needed breakfast - a bocadillo de jamón, a cup of colacao and banana. I bought a couple of chocolate bars as takeaway.

The blisters on both feet had gotten worse. I winced with each step I made. It probably explained why I only took a handful of shots along the way.

There weren’t any major architectural interests along the route. I passed by a cemetery which was called Cemiterio De Peregerinos. I wondered if it was so named because it was along the main route of the Camino or because the graves were indeed only for people who had done the walk. There was not anything special about the graveyard yet I stood there for a few moments. Perhaps to pay tribute to brothers who have once followed the path- the same one that I now was taking. Or maybe a quick acknowledgement that we are all travellers in this world until death comes at our door. The concept of death seemed to be a prevailing theme in this walk.

As if fate, or the universe, or the Supreme Being or whatever supernatural force there was that could not be seen by my eyes, read the ramblings of mind, a sign flashed before me.

I knew Camino to mean the way. But it was my first time to read it in the context of the popular biblical passage.

The walk though painful was a bit manageable maybe because the blister strip given by the Dutch girl the day before was providing a good cushion. At least on my right sole. The other blister on my left foot was worsening . It has worsened from a mere annoyance to pain. It felt as if a stubborn corn kernel was stuck inside my sock pressing upon the sole of my foot every time I made a step.

Despite this I still enjoyed this part of the route heading to Palas Del Rei because of the archway that the trees flanking the road gave. Normally I would see the arch giving clearance to the vehicles. But in this region, the archway provided clearance to the pedestrians as well. Which made sense because the pilgrimage is a whole-year event, thereby the formation would naturally give way to the daily foot traffic.

After passing through one arch I felt an enormous sense of freedom as I saw a wide meadow and the next town that seemed to await my arrival.

Admittedly I was disappointed with Palas Del Rei. While the name meant “Palace of the Kings” I did not see any fortresses similar to the one in Ponferrada or eye-turning architectural structures for that matter.

As this day was a Sunday there were only a few restaurants available. I went inside one where a big menu sign outside indicated that they were serving “Bacalao Con Tomate”, one of my favorite Spanish dishes.

I paid around 16 euros which was a bit pricy by peregrine standards, but I thought that today was my splurge day.

I passed by a church and had my passport stamped. The caretaker asked me to sign in a log sheet. When he learned that I was Filipino he told me that the priest who was about to officiate the 12PM mass used to work in the Philippines. I decided to stay behind for a while, meet the priest and hear his mass. I was quite delighted to see two signatories on the sheet who also hailed from the Philippines. Sadly I never got to meet them on the Camino.

After Palas Del Rey I haven’t captured any interesting structure along the walk. The path would either be along a road or would cut across the fields under a canopy of trees.

Once I passed by a road with an ambiguous signage. I could not understand whether the sign indicated me to take the tunnel or the one ahead. Fortunately I took the one that lead underneath the bridge which thankfully was the right one.

I couldn’t recall if I stopped by any café in the afternoon but most likely not because it was a Sunday.

As I was entering the boundary of Melide, a black dog accompanied me. It walked with me for about 10 minutes. I chuckled at the thought that it might accompany me till Santiago. I don’t want to be overly dramatic about this scene, but it felt as if my dad sent the dog to accompany me at least in this part of the walk.

When at last the dog stopped and stayed behind, I felt sad as if saying goodbye to a friend whom I will never again meet.

I guess goodbyes are part of the rhythm of a pilgrim’s life, much like the next scene that greeted me. A pilgrim neatly placed a pair of worn out shoes at the foot of a cross in a town square. A tribute to a pair of companions who have reluctantly decided to stay behind.

I passed by several hamlets and an old bridge before reaching the town of Melide around 4:30. Robi recommended me to stay in a private albergue that offered a promo of 6 Euros per night (which in summer was charging 10 euros). It was great place actually.

I had my dinner at a place that served Kebab. It was located a hundred meters away from the albergue. On the way, I started to hobble horribly once again. I walked 28 kilometers for the day which meant I had a little over 50 kilometers left to walk. The blister pad had served its function for the day and I had it removed. By now the two blisters on both feet had swollen.

Little did I know at that time that the blisters would unleash their full wrath the following day.

Camino Frances Day 10

2016-07-11T21:52:00.003-07:00

The albergue I stayed had probably defective heaters (or they turned it off) because it was a bit chilly in the evening. Fortunately I was located toward the far end of the room so it was a bit bearable. My legs got sore again and Jeff was kind enough to give some ointment to apply.

While preparing my stuff that morning I chatted with Teresa, a middle-aged lady who also stayed in the albergue for the night. She reminded me of Laura Dern in Jurassic Park. Her brisk movements belied her age. We were the last two folks in albergue. She decided to stick around a little as she wanted to do some yoga.

I actually thought I had a great morning start. Wanting to end the day early, my pace was faster than usual- the full dinner and a good sleep had me recharged. The close call I had from the night before was now but a distant memory.

Because of my excitement to get on with my day, tragically I actually took the wrong route. I only realised that something wasn't right when after about 2 kilometres I still haven't noticed a single yellow sign or arrow. At that point that my gut feel kicked in. So I had to backtrack. I detested the fact that I lost some precious time and effort. It did not help that my leftmost toe was getting sore and I was developing a blister on my right sole. It was stupid of me to take the wrong route but in my defence I came to the albergue at night and I didn't realize that it was actually located away at a forked road away from the regular pilgrim path.

Regretfully I could not recall much of the walk in the morning because I tried to limit the number of shots I took along the way. I didn't want to run out of battery during sundown just when I needed light in the darkness.

I noticed along the way that some pilgrims left mementos of their dear departed ones behind. Presumably they dedicated their journey to their loved ones. I offered a prayer to my Dad. It now seemed ages since he departed. Although it seemed that I would occasionally feel his presence, like he was just from another town that I could easily reach with a phone call or a text message.

Through the course of my walk I have offered my rosary prayers to my dad, my family, myself and some friends who have shared their petitions to me through instagram. I found that praying the rosary (aside from being a form of petition) can make the travel time much faster. A round of rosary completing its mysteries can take me about 15 minutes or a kilometre walk more or less.

The previous three days had been quite cloudy so I was finally glad to see the sun shine again.

Pilgrim philosophy still abound. This was one of the few ones I had taken for the day.

The walk from Ferreiros, Lugo to Portomarin was rather boring. There weren't many pilgrim-friendly stops along the way. Which was why I was quite thankful to the owner of this place. He built a shed of sorts adjacent to his house. A note was posted " Feel free to use this space, but keep it clean so that the next pilgrim could also enjoy it".

I recall staying in the shed a bit longer because I had to massage my feet. I couldn't recall if I stopped for coffee along this route because I couldn't find a single photo in my camera. Most likely I just took my coffee in the albergue.

I must admit that at this part of the walk, my passion has wavered. I wanted the walk to be over and move on with my life. Why did I embark on this journey? The answer seemed to be crystal clear at the start of the walk. But at this point the harsh realities of the situation has muddled whatever sense of inspiration I’ve had. Admitted I was not in the proper mood for contemplation. This graffiti I saw scribbled on a gray rock wall reminded me to enjoy every bit of the journey despite the pain.

The town of Portomarin was a sight to behold. It appeared to be a island surrounded by a river, although it only created that impression because the body water somewhat snaked around the landmass. I could just imagine the military advantage it had during the times of war in the past. A steep stairway welcomed me as I entered the town. Despite my tiredness I ascended as if to pay homage. I settled in a nearby park after buying some stuff in the supermarket. Watching the view of the river and the town on the other side, I enjoyed my humble lunch- the usual pan and salchichon. I decided to withdraw additional money so I asked for the nearest bank. If not for the Banco Santander which reminded me of my bank in my University in Murcia I would have felt that I was in a different country.

The church of Portomarin looked like a fortress. Its architecture I would learn later on is of Roman influence. It had a simple rose window and and intricate archway, typical of the churches in Spain. I would gladly go back to Portomarin and spend more time exploring the city if given another chance in the future.

I continued on and took another bridge on the way out. In hindsight I should have brought more items in the supermarket because the next stretch was actually 8 kilometres long without any shops along the way. I was actually getting thirsty and madly looking for water source when I bumped upon two pilgrims who were taking a rest perhaps longer than usual. I envied them because they were not pressed by some deadline. For me my deadliest deadline was actually the 14th because I was set to fly out of Madrid on the 15th. I still had a lot of buffer actually but still I wanted to be back to Madrid early. When the pair learned that I was thirsty for the past 2 kilometres they offered water from their bottles. The lady (I believe she's Dutch) offered a blister strip noticing the way I hobbled.

I thanked them and continued on. Every time I stepped with my right foot, I grimaced in pain. The blister was getting unbearable and another one was actually developing on my left sole.

Further on I came finally upon a shop. Two Asian folks came by and they reminded me that they were the ones who took my photo with the colourful field on the background several days back. I knew I just had to have a selfie with them. Regretfully I never got their fb profiles so that was the last time I saw of them.

I had a chat with the bar tender. As I was in my philosophical mood I threw the question to her as to why people had to suffer and do the walk. Her response was the one I was expecting. Nonetheless it felt validating hearing from her.

I asked if she ever did the Camino. "No I haven't" was her somber reply. I could see a tinge of envy in her eyes. All her life she probably just watched the pilgrims stop by at her bar and move on towards their desired destination. "Maybe someday if I find the reason to do the walk, I will", she added with a sense of hope.

I do hope that she would get her reason - be it physical, emotional, spiritual or cultural. Aside from the bar tender in Foncebadon, she would be one of the bar tenders I distinctly recall.

According to the Camino Pilgrim app there should have been a restaurant at Goznar which was the next major stop after PortoMarin, but it was closed.

I tried my luck at Hospital da Cruz which was 3.8 kilometres further. Only the albergue was open and no restaurant was available. As it was already half past 4, I decided to just check in. (There was no one in the albergue at the time I came in so I just helped myself and sent an SMS to the number indicated on the cork board).

Because of the incident the day before I now applied the 4 by 4 rule which was to check in the nearest albergue within 4 kilometre radius by 4 pm.

The two pilgrims who offered me water, checked in that afternoon. They haven't had any good meal since all the restaurants were closed along the way. It was an opportunity for me to repay their kindness. Though I only had a half bar of bread, a handful of salchichons and two apples, it was enough to assuage our hunger for the night.

Teresa the lady from the albergue in Fererreios came in around 8pm. She narrated how she got lost in the dark. It was a good thing a farmer spotted her and brought her to the albergue. I shuddered at the thought of getting lost in the darkness.

Admittedly it had been a relatively tough day for me. Although I was bit hopeful to end the journey on a high note since I only had a little over 80 kilometres left to walk.

Little did I know that the pain brought about by my blister that day was just a preview of the suffering I still had to endure.

Camino Frances Day 9

2016-06-01T06:30:00.001-07:00

Despite its limited capacity, the albergue in Triacastela managed to house several pilgrims from seemingly all walks of life: the German mother and daughter tandem whom I met in Trabadelo, the foursome group from US and UK whom I saw a day earlier at O Cerebro, an athletic Spanish guy with thinning hair who reminded me of Nicholas Cage and a lanky Singaporean who I met for the first time in this albergue.

The daughter of the German tandem I particularly remembered because she had a hard time communicating with the laundrywoman who only spoke in Spanish. The old lady remembered during my registration that I spoke a bit of Spanish so she asked me if I could translate her thoughts to the German girl. Apparently the woman was telling the girl that their laundry couldn’t be fit in one washing (the downpour gave them a handful of wet clothing) and had to be split in two loads. I felt so proud that despite my Spanish A2 level I finally did a useful translation in real life.

I was fortunate that despite the rain, the clothes inside my bag were spared, thanks to the layer of garbage bag I used to wrap them, a trick I have learned from my mountaineering days.

I don’t recall the exact time I started my walk the following morning but I was one of the last ones to leave. A middle-aged guy was walking just a few steps ahead of me. When he saw me following him after a rather confusing fork, he turned back and told me that he was headed to the longer route. He pointed to the shortcut which was the one on my right. I thanked him. There must be something in the way I carried myself that instinctively told him I would opt for the shorter walk. I took the short cut obviously.

The path did not have many signs, like the ubiquitous yellow arrow or shell mark, but since it was straight and did not have any forks, I knew that I was on the right path.

I was alone for about an hour, deep in my own thoughts when I got the surprise of my life. Out of nowhere a booming voice came about, “Buen Camino”. I was so immersed in the walk that I failed to notice a biker catching up from behind.

“Buen Camino” I answered back, nonchalant on the surface hiding the fact that he just scared the living daylights out of me.

Further on, what seemed like 2 kilometers, I saw the trail heading to a row of houses- the first sign of civilization after the fork. There was a wooden bench just at the entrance of the village. It was painted green, moist from the early morning drizzle and dew, blending well with a mossy tree beside it. It also served as sort of a fence because behind it was beside a gully traitorously covered by vines. My selfie stick accidentally fell on the clearing while I was getting an apple from my backpack. I crouched beneath the bench and reached out for the stick. A few inches further and it would have been down the deep gully, irretrievable. I managed to recover it thankfully although my right forearm brushed against a thorny plant. It left some sort of a lump that still remained on the skin to this date.

Though I took a short cut, I failed to realize that the next convenient stop was in the next 7 kilometers. It was twice the usual distance of breaks between stopovers. I felt really disappointed when in one stop over where I was hoping to refill my water bottle, the only available faucet was not working.

Further on, I saw the tallest pile of rocks I have seen in this journey. I picked up a piece of stone and gingerly placed on top adding to its height. It felt like leaving a bit of myself behind. I regretted the fact that I placed a rather curvy stone which would make the attempt of the next pilgrim quite challenging. I won’t be surprised if the next person would accidentally destroy the precarious structure and I somewhat regretted for not thoroughly thinking about my action.

After a long walk through a muddy path and a left turn on a fork (which reminded me of a scene in Camino Portugues) I came upon a donativo stand which was a welcome sight in this part of the walk. I presumed the area used to be a shed for produce. There was ratty couch where two cute kittens were lounging. A chalkboard with writing “ Follow you heart , It is the one true compass” was leaning beside it, as if to remind the pilgrims of some truths that they might have forgotten along the way. Beside it was a small table filled with fruits, a thermos bottle, cups, biscuits and of course a small basket for the donation. I got a piece of banana and dropped a few coins. I was about to leave when Jenny, the owner came about. We chatted a bit. She gladly posed with her wares and then I said my good bye.

For some reason the next part of the walk reminded me of a road in Morong, Bataan, a narrow dirt path and a private property on both sides mostly grassy fields with trees scattered randomly.

A little further I thought about the Alchemist, a book written by Paulo Coelho who got the inspiration after doing the Camino. No surprise here that the protagonist of the book was named Santiago. The universe somehow read my mind because around a bend I saw the sign of the Alchemist.

I passed by a herd of brown cows grazing on an elevated clearing. One cow was particularly close to the fence- a thin wire actually, am actually surprised how it can contain the cattle when they could easily sneak out if it wanted to. The cow stared at me and I intently stared at her and we had a staring contest that lasted for about a minute. She did not remove her gaze and for a moment I got a bit self-conscious. I saw the number tag on both her ears and somewhat pitied it.

A strange thought occurred. There I was staring at the creature taking a pity on her fate. She will live her life within the confines of the fence, her days determined by her master who one day would just will just randomly pick a number which will turn out to be hers.

I was wondering what was going through her mind. Maybe she was thinking” Poor creature, another aimless wanderer. He pities me when I in fact pity him for his meaningless existence.” Perhaps in her own mind I was the poor creature.

The view of the farmlands gave way to a wider clearing. It signaled that I was entering once again the town center. The sight of wide plains appeared as though it welcomed me with open arms, as if it was waiting for my arrival. “What took you so long?” I played the music player on my Samsung phone and the songs shuffled. My spirit got a kick when my favorite Travesuras played. It somewhat brought things to perspective because the song had always reminded me of my one-year study in Spain. A chapter of my life that would soon be coming to a close.

This walk was supposedly a final hurrah to end my journey in Europe. But deep in my heart if I had to be honest I would want to be part of that world. There was a part of me that wanted the walk to be a bit longer if only to feel the magic of Europe.

I kept on playing the songs on my phone to keep me aware of the distance I have covered so far. I estimated that about fours songs on my list would more or less make me travel a kilometer.

The music gave sort of the push that I was in high spirits the next hour or so. The only downside was that I never took much photos along this path.

I could not recall now how I ate for lunch in Sarria because no photo was registered on my phone from 12:53 PM to 2:23 PM. Maybe I stopped by a Café shop and ordered for Jamon Serrano which had always been my choice whenever I got forced to stop by in a nearest available bar.

Sarria would have been a more interesting town if I had the luxury of time but I was determined to cover as much distance as possible. Roby was no longer in my mind as his distance apart was already a day’s walk worth. At this point I was resigned to the fact that I would probably just catch up with him in Santiago should he opt to stay for a day more upon arrival.

I met the Singapore guy who stayed in the Triacastela albergue. He gladly obliged when I asked him to get a shot of me with a Sarria landmark in the background.

A little half past 3, I was headed out of Sarria. I saw a road sign that said that the next town would be around 8 kilometers away. I figured that in about two hours I would reach an albergue.

This was a wrong assumption. The distance in the road indicated the distance if one travelled by the main road. The pilgrim’s path because it was winding was much much longer. And to my horror, it was already sundown when I realized I still had 3 kilometers to cover before the next albergue.

I was scared because I was alone, my phone was draining and I was walking in a creepy wooded area. I was embarrassed to admit to myself that though I was relatively religious I was still scared of the thought of walking through the woods alone in the dark. It did not help that I kept on hearing a moaning sound (perhaps from pigs and cattle) in the background. In the growing darkness it can assume the form of a hideous monster. I prayed the rosary hastily. I offered a prayer that I get to the next albergue soon. Fortunately I got to see an American couple. I asked if they are stopping at the next albergue and if I could join them. The lady was kind enough to offer an apple. Which was timely because I was getting hungry already. My last shot was at 608 PM of a landmark indicating that Santiago was “merely” 100 km away.

It was dark already when we reached the Calvor O Lugo albergue. I was pretty sure I would have missed it, if I were alone because it was located 100 meters off the path. I was thankful to have met the American couple.

The Singaporean guy who was in the Triascastela albergue was one of the occupants of the albergue. I invited him to have dinner together at the adjacent bar. Jeffrey, I finally got to know his name.

It was bit chilly outside but inside the albergue the heater gave us a good place to sleep. I slept in no time. After travelling for 9 days, only a hundred kilomters separate me from my destination.

Camino Frances Day 8

2016-05-14T17:02:00.004-07:00

The stop in O Cerebro in hindsight was the most picturesque. I wish I had spent more time basking at the magnificent view from the mountaintop. But I guess at that time the weariness from walking for 7 days had taken its toll; all I wanted was to just rest whenever I could.

I went to the chapel to offer some prayers and bought some post cards. Instead of eating dinner at a bar, I just decided to buy some ready to eat meals from the convenience store. Two packs of cold pasta and hard boiled eggs.

The municipal albergue in O Cerebro would have to be the best in terms of the view and design. The only downside was that its kitchen did not have any utensils - as if sending a message that cooking is not allowed.

The sleeping area was rather spacious and I thought it could probably sleep a hundred. A German pilgrim was looking for a partner to split the cost for his laundry. Fortunately it was my schedule to have my laundry done so I volunteered. The Laundromat required 3 euros for washing and 4 euros for drying - this was the normal rate for all albergues.

I stepped out of the albergue, a few minutes before 8am the following day. It was a little late than my usual time although I didn't mind because it was still a bit dark.

The howling of the winds which might be normal in the area reminded of the typhoons back in my country. The path was quite easy to follow as it just snaked through the woods and slowly descending.

It was still foggy in the morning and once again the lake scene of the Friday 13^th came to me playful mind.

A cloud of fog came rolling though the hillside, I wish I had taken a video of it. It was furiously streaming down the hill, like water cascading through a waterfall.

The scene from the mountainside was reminiscent of the path from the day before. Up in the distance I saw fields of green and brown.

An hour of walking later I came upon a clearing with a prominent statue of an old man his right hand clutching a walking stick and the other hand holding the brim of his hat on the head. The pose was such to depict of a pilgrim battling the strong force of the wind. I was in Alto de San Roque, one of the highest points of the walk. The howling of the wings seemed like a storm was raging. I lingered a bit longer than usual just admiring the view - and took more photos than usual.

Along the way I saw an unusual sign. I was not sure if there actually was a place called “Sexo” (it means sex in Spanish). Probably a place for the nymphos? I chuckled. Or maybe the place was actualled called Seixo and the vandals did a convincing job by erasing the "I".

I stopped upon a coffee shop where a group of americans and British where also having their dose of hot coffee for the day. I recall the group staying in the same albergue in O Cerebro. Lo and behold I got to see O ren again, the Irish guy whom I first encountered in the albergue in Rabanal del Camino. I asked for a shot for posterity. He seemed like an interesting fellow. But sadly that was the last time I ever saw of him in the Camino. Maybe he finished it early. Maybe he chickened out. Or maybe he stayed a couple of days in one of the stop. But I pray that whatever purpose he had for the walk, he got to achieve it.

An hour of walk later the weather had turned bad. It was almost zero visibility and there was a heavy downpour that I was forced to take shelter in a bar by the mountainside. I recall this part because I was having some sort of a tiff with someone in WhatsApp.

The rain petered down after about ten minutes. I walked again, my feet was now soaked from the rain. Although I brought an umbrella with it was no match for the strong rain. My pants were already wet. I was now ruing the fact that I did not bring waterproof boots for the walk. The rubber shoes I brought worked fo me in the Camino Portugues, but it did not give comfort in this rainy scenario. This was one of the most uncomfortable walks I have on this Camino.

Further I saw this Romanian girl ( I can’t recall in which part of the walk I first met her actually) but she said in a mocking tone. “People told me the camino should be fun. Well with this rain, fun it is”. There was hint of resignation in her voice but I knew and she knew that the only way to get through this undesirable situation was to get going and finish the walk.

I saw a sign indicating I had still 140 kilometers to walk. I don't recall already the sights along the way. Maybe because I had to hold my umbrella the whole time hence I was not able to take many pictures. The path would occasionally turn muddy and I abhorred it when I slosh my shoes across the mud. I recalled the advice of Christian (the pilgrim I met on my first night) to avoid getting my feet wet at all times. Oh well it was too late to worry about it now.

We have a saying in the Philippies “basing sisw”, wet chick and that was how I exactly felt.

I did not encounter any bars along the way that I finally had my lunch at half past 2. I ordered a hot serving of pasta Bolognese. Oh God that was perhaps one of the best pasta I have tasted. Or maybe it was just that feeling of being secure inside a warm bar while the rain was hammering outside.

If I had it my way I would have wanted to stay longer in the bar but then I knew I had to get going. Around 3:18 PM I was along a steep sloping path when the winds have grown to its full might. It was so strong my umbrella was almost twisted by the its strength. It was no longer wise to have the umbrella open lest it would be mangled by the wind. So instead I made a makeshift raincoat by tearng holes on the garbage bag I brought, it was my most unglamorous moment but then at that time it was the only way not to get drenched. That had been my firsthand experience of the harsh Galician climate. Now I truly understand what they meant.

Fortunately at 4 PM I came upon Triacastela. Because I was so wet I decided to stay in a private abergue.

That was the worst walk for this camino.

Around 447 PM I saw a rainbow outside my Albergue. Perhaps it was an indication that the worst part was over.

Camino Frances Day 7

2016-04-23T23:41:00.001-07:00

The albergue had a fully furnished kitchen so for the first time since the walk, I cooked my own meal- spiral pasta, chorizo and Italian sauce, stuff I bought from the neighborhood mercado. The food did not taste as awesome as I would have expected –perhaps it lacked parmesan cheese? - but considering that I was in a countryside of Spain it was already admirable.

There were only 2 rooms in the albergue which was on the 2nd floor of a bar. Each room had 4 double deck beds. I occupied the bottom bunk near the door. The guy who occupied the bottom bunk across me noticed the way I hobbled so he shared some stretching exercises. He experienced the same thing in the early part of the camino. Eugene was his name, from Gerona. I somehow remembered him walking by the other day in Ponferrada.

I prepared a hot choco for myself in the morning and ate the leftover pasta from my dinner. I had some small talk with a mom and daughter from Germany who were on their second day of the walk.

It was a quarter before 8 when I stepped of the albergue, but it was still dark. The path all the time seemed intuitive but it went directly into a highway without any sidewalk on either side. I thought I missed a turn somewhere but I did not recall seeing any yellow sign for the last kilometre or so. Since I was not so sure I retraced my steps. I think went back 2 kilometres before meeting a pair of pilgrims who told me that I had the correct route all along. Crap. Whatever headstart I had that day was gone. I felt like banging my head for the wasted effort and time.

It did not help that by then it was raining steadily. My feet was already getting damp and that was the last dry pair of socks I've had.

This was probably the worst part of my camino in terms of signage. I took a shot of this to warn future pilgrims to take note of this place so they won't get lost. Though it didn’t appear like a path, it actually is and the pilgrim is just expected to walk on the side of the highway. A bit unsafe if you think about it.

I made a stop at La Portela de Valcarce to massage my feet and wait for the rain to stop. It didn't. I had no choice but to trudge on. The weight of my backpack it seemed had gotten heavier though the days. I saw the German mom and daughter passed by and made a stop. I was wondering if the mother was already having second thoughts of finishing the Camino.

The rainy weather exacerbated my already surly mood. A scene of a pumpkin head, the iconic reminder of Halloween reminded me that this part of the world was influenced by the US or wherever the Jack O’ Lantern originated.

I saw some cows grazing on the fields, the sound of their bells was a welcome break from the monotonous sound of my footsteps and the dragging of my walking stick. There was nothing much fancy along this part of the route and judging from the photos I took ever since I left Trabadelo there weren’t really much noting.

By 11 am, I entered Ruitelan. I have traveled only 9 kilometers since I started, which was absurdly slow. I was still sore from the fact that I wasted precious time earlier when I retraced my steps. I was irritable because my damp socks were a bit uncomfortable.

I think I had read earlier in the walk that the next part would be ascending. So I made an unscheduled stop right before the start of the incline.

I saw again the green-eyed guy who slept across my bed in Rabanal Del Camino. He joked that he’ll probably just take a cab from there because of the weather. I learned he was Irish, that explained his sense of humor. I can't recall it now his name but it sounded like Oren.

On the way I saw this defunct Laundromat now serving as a flower bed. A weird thought occurred to me. Our bodies will definitely serve a different function when we die, fertilizer for the grass and the wildflowers. For some reason this walk made me contemplate more about death.

I had to look at the app to estimate where the next stop would be. Somehow now I was more concerned of arriving at the intended destination that I failed to totally immerse myself in the present and enjoy the journey for what it was. But I know that it is different now viewing the whole experience through the photos from my phone and in the comforts of my home rather than being there, having the raw feeling of the weight on your shoulders and your aching body that longed for a good relaxing rest.

The Camino is a great opportunity to meet random strangers. People who would most likely appear in your lifetime once. A point like intersection of two lines in a space. Then each one moving on to their disparate destinies.

But I saw this message of one pilgrim scribbled on a stone. I presumed he was hoping against hope that the intended recipient got to read the message. Perhaps they met earlier along the path or engaged in a chit-chat at an albergue. Perhaps destiny intended them to be just random passers by in their own stories. And yet now this pilgrim was exercising his will to ensure that another encounter would happen again. Perhaps fate could bend its will for their paths to cross again?

I took a photo of this moss that seemed to be out of place amidst the decaying brown and yellow leaves. It might die in a week or so as it lay on the path of trekkers. It just seemed out of it place, so exquisite yet so fragile. Part of me was somehow mourning that its beauty alas would be fleeting.

Before I got on any more sentimental (I guess I would have to blame the bleak weather for that) I came upon a bar in La Faba. It was past 1 already and the next major stop was still 4 kilometers so I decided to have my lunch here. The bar only served vegetarian dish and since there were no other bars in the area I decided to settle with crepe with cheese and basil. It was not bad actually despite the lack of meat. Like any cool hippie vegetarian bars this one is replete of its words of wisdom to share. Though I am not sure of its translation in English the quote on the door reminded me to enjoy the magic of the moment.

The view after La Faba was surprisingly majestic. The rain has stopped for a bit so I was able to get a lot of panoramic shots. I was already back to my jolly self in this part of the walk. A Spanish pilgrim (if I recall correctly he was from the Andalusian region) so I asked him to take a shot of me.

I passed by a couple of farmlands each with a herd of cows with bells on them. I noticed a tag placed on each ear of the bovine creature, identifier for the owner I presume. Do they know which one is due for slaughter based on the tag number? I had a weird thought. Does our Supreme Being also assign us a tag number watching us from a distance. Each of going about our daily routine oblivious to the watchful eye. And then one day the Almighty just decides ok Number 2323 you're time is up.

A quarter past three I finally passed by the boundary of Lugo and Galicia. A colorful marker stood to signify it. I could hear the rumbling of cars from just above ahead signifying that I was nearing a town center.

I reached O Cebreiro at half past three. This was probably one of the majestic views I've had of the walk. The stop was a town nestled atop a hill with an almost 360 view of the surrounding villages. Its structures are built of stones to withstand the strong winds and the biting cold. Judging from the howling of the winds I could only imagine how harsh the winter might be on this place.

There was an air of melancholy about the place, I was almost enticed to settle for good and abandon my intended destination.

I felt like I could hear the booming voice of God from the expanse that seemed to swallow me.

And though I only travelled about 19 kilometers for the day I decided to stay at O Cebreiro for the night.

Camino Frances Day 6

2016-04-19T03:30:00.003-07:00

I was really famished when I checked in the night before. There was a bar in the albergue although they had limited items on the menu. I settled for a serving of croquettas de jamon and 20 cL of Cocal Cola. The bill was expensive by peregrine standards though I didn't mind because of my hunger. The chef was having a siesta so I had to wait till 6 pm to order my meal.

There were only two other people in the dorm. I am pretty sure they were a couple for they shared the same bed and had sex a couple of times in the evening. As long as they didn't make too much noise it was no skin off my nose.

I stepped out the following day around 7 am and it was still dark. Almost every albergue has this one way door where pilgrims can exit the following morning upon checkout without the need to wake the receptionist. (Some albergues have only part time people manning. They come in around 1pm to issue the receipts and stamps and leave around 8pm)

The early morning chill was biting and it was drizzling a bit so I opened my umbrella. Except for the occasional whir of car tires passing by, it was just my footsteps that broke the morning silence. A haunting silence that would set my mood for deep contemplation.

Eventually the concrete turned into a country road signalling that I was leaving the town centre. Against a dark setting, my playful mind conjured scenes from old horror movies. One part seemed like a scene from Friday the 13th , I wouldn't be surprised if at any moment the eerie-masked maniac Jason would pop out, wielding a machete.

Dark clouds were swirling ominously up ahead and I was worried that the rest of my journey will be a rainy one. I took a shot of the background and I couldn't believe that I have been through those mountains the past few days.

I must admit that at this point my energy was sagging. I was beginning to question my stamina to make it through the endeavor. When I started this Camino I purposely did not announce it in Facebook. I thought it would be embarrassing to do some explanation to my friends if in the unlikely possibility I would chicken out along the way. I did post occasional photos in Instragram though. At least in this platform I did not have much followers so the reputational damage would not be too hard should I indeed call everything off.

It was a good thing I actually stopped at Camponaraya because the next town with an albergue was about 6.7 kms. It would have taken past sundown had I trudged on the day before.

I was still about 2 kilometres away from Cacabelos town centre (the next major stop from Camponaraya) but decided to stop by a big waiting shed that greeted me on the town's boundary. I removed the shoes off my feet to massage it. By now my socks were getting damp because of the wet ground. I had to remind myself of a pilgrim's warning not to get my feet wet as it would be a prelude to blisters. I pressed the soles of my feet on the cold stone floor of the shed. God, it felt so soothing.

There was nothing fancy about the waiting shed though I particularly remember this stop because I took a shot of this worm. Travelling mostly solo for the past few days made me more philosophical than usual. I was wondering at the pace that the creature was moving, how long would it take it to reach Santiago de Compostela. This creature had no idea whatsoever of the worms from the garden in my hometown. I sort of pity it in a way.

I thought that just like this worm we humans might not be aware of other intelligent creatures in the fringes of the galaxy and beyond. And that we could spend a lifetime searching but we wouldn't find them. That somehow made me sad.

I looked at the sign that was posted along the way, the names at that time were meaningless.

The town marker indicated that the next stop Pieros was about 3km, which at my current pace would be achievable in less than an hour.

I stopped at the next available bar to have my usual bocadillo de jamon and cafe con leche. After 6 days of travelling the bars had now become ordinary for me and if I didn't take any interesting snapshot I would no longer remember which one it would be.

For a sleepy town that perhaps only has less than a thousand inhabitants, its churches were surprisingly ornate.

I might have passed by a couple of churches Cacabelos but sadly I couldn't recall much about it right now. I feel kind of guilty that I recall more vividly encountering a supermarket. The past two days (starting from Dia De los Muertos) were holidays so there was barely a market with an extensive selection that was open. So when I finally found one, I could not contain my joy. I bought a pack of chocolate biscuits-Filipinos !, some energy bars and a pack of Salami as my protein source.

There was a slight ascent on the way to Pieros. I met a pilgrim who was on his way back to St Jean Pied de Port. That meant he had been walking already for 900 kms. He was kind of reluctant when I asked if I could take a shot of him for posterity.

There was not much to see in Pieros but I was just contented that it had a water source, so I paused for a bit on a nearby bench and then I went on.

My spirit was somehow lifted when this magnificent view of a field full of colourful leaves welcomed me at the park of the ascent. A trio of hikers from Hong Kong passed by so I requested them to take a shot of me with the plantation in the background.

The rest of the journey was a bit wet. It was drizzling now and then and I had to bring out my umbrella to ward off the rain drops.

I can't recall exactly now how I motivated myself to continue on but it was around half past 12 when I reached Villafranca del Bierzo. Judging from the number of establishments I knew that it was one of the major stops but because of my hunger and my tiredness, I was not able to explore much of the area. I decided to treat myself that day so I order a full set menu for lunch capped off with a glass of wine.

I shudder at the thought that this was the stop of Robi the day before. Our gap was now almost 20km so I was already giving up on the idea that I would ever catch up with him. My main concern at that moment was to finish the camino.

Around 120 PM I stopped to massage both of my feet. Both my small toes are now starting to get sore, my leftmost toenail turning purple already.

I continued on despite the mounting pain in my toes. I saw this monument of a pilgrim, St. James perhaps and my mind was brought again to the situation to continue with my journey.

After the town centre the path lead me to a side road that snaked around a mountain.

Yet again I encountered another tribute to a pair of fallen comrades.

Despite the somber mood I couldn't help but chuckle at the peregrine self-deprecating sense of humour as evidenced by this hastily scrawled graffiti.

The past few days were really cloudy and rainy so I was kind of happy to see my shadow in the late afternoon.

The next 8 kilometres or so were mostly along the road beside a mountain

By 4PM the path went to a country side where rows of thick-trunk trees lined the path. I was somehow curious to see some trees with the initial "JG" painted on it. These are my trees I joked to myself.

My shin splint was once again acting up. ( Looking back, I think the effect of the Ibuprofen has worn off). I decided to stop at Trafadelo for the night.

For Day 6 I walked a total 23.3 km. I knew that there were interesting sights that day but by this time, the only thing that ran to my mind was just to reach Santiago safe and sound.

Camino Frances Day 5

2016-04-03T19:08:00.003-07:00

The albergue did not have many pilgrims. In fact there were only the four of us in the dorm - perhaps an indicator that it is not a popular stop. Per my Camino app it isn't indeed, based on the available albergues and establishments in the area. But for someone who had just walked for 7 kilometres without any good refuge or food source (not to mention on a limping leg) the stop at Acebo was heaven sent.

I have been calling the pain on my right leg as just "pain" but finally I got the proper term for it, thanks to the German guy ( I presumed he was German based on his thick English accent) who told me its medical term- "Shin splint". Knowing its name doesn't alleviate the pain a bit but at least I could google it and look for ways to ease the pain. The German guy was kind enough to give me ibuprofen. He assured me that it would help alleviate the pain though I must not take it on an empty stomach.

I never knew the guy's name nor got really a good glimpse of him which I truly regret. He had the aura of a good uncle. From then on every story of generosity along the walk would always remind me of him.

In hindsight I think my walk for day 5 was unbelievably easy because of the pain reliever he gave.

I had my laundry done in the albergue for 7 euros. ( 3 euros for washing and 4 euros for drying). Before the Camnio I drafted a rule of having laundry every days. The extra clothes I had made me extend it one day longer. I think having 3 sets of clothes would be a good number for the walk. Not too inconvenient but not too heavy either.

I recall reading in a forum somewhere that 2 is the optimal. But I thought of always erring on the side of caution. Something unexpected could happen on day 2 which could make you recycle the clothes. I think it is not uncommon for some backpackers to repeat their clothes, but I don't think I would want to go down that path.

In the morning when I woke up, I had a hard time figuring how to get out because the entrance door leading to the bar was locked. Fortunately the Korean girl has shown me a self locking door just beside the laundry area that lead to the exit.

It was surprisingly bright when I stepped out to continue my trek for the day. The breeze was chilly, I was reminded again that my stop was still on top of the mountains. The path led me to a pavement with tall grasses on both side. Once I had to retrace my steps because a glove fell off.

Unlike the day before, the path now was relatively easy because it was descending. I saw a landmark that fell over and a pair of worn outs shoes was placed on top it as if a cadaver laid to rest, a tribute perhaps to weary companion that finally decided to stop. Pilgrims are a tad philosophical. I guess the walk makes one get in touch with a more philosophical version of oneself.

I continued. A war is raging between vega and carnivores and a particular sign reflected this.

There is also a war raging inside me. The part of me that wants to stop and forget about the whole thing. And the other part that egged me to go on.

Occasionally I would see a yellow sign paired with a blue sign that went the other way. I suddenly missed Chico, one of my companions in the Camino Portugues. It was from him that I learned what the blue sign meant- the path to Fatima. I wonder if someday I will follow the path of the blue arrow. I thought about my expiring visa and how I failed to extend my stay in Spain. That somehow saddened me a bit. I would have wanted to stay longer but fate it seemed had other plans.

The walk was now surprisingly bearable and at that time I did not give credit to the ibuprofen doing its work which in hindsight I should have. There was something soothing about the wind that I took a selfie.

Further on I met a couple of pilgrims who who were taking a break underneath a tree. They were munching on a citrus fruit and offered a slice to me. I gladly accepted.

The next 30 minutes I was walking through a path leading down the mountain. I had an idea of publishing a book someday of this journey. I somehow regret not getting a photo along this part because the foliage was more on the yellow side than green. Finally I hit upon level ground - Molinaseca. A group of tourists - British I reckoned from their accent- parked alongside the road and viewed the surroundings. They asked how long I have been walking. They impressed to know that I have walked a 100 kilometres already.

If circumstances had been different I might have lingered a bit in the area. But I was determined to narrow my distance with Robi. So after a quick souvenir shot of the church and a stopover at a store to buy bananas and biscuits I continued on.

The path was now level although it was on a concrete road so it still gave a bit of stress to my legs.
I saw Ponferrada from a distance and couldn't believe how far Robi's stopover from my place was. Surely I could not have made it that far to this place had I continued on.

There was nothing spectacular about this shot here but I had to take it. It was during this part that got lost and took a wrong turn. I knew I made a big mistake when I ended up on a big sign that said no entry. Rather than walk all the way back I had climb up a gully by grasping on the exposed roots of undergrowth and brambles.

Finally I reached Ponferrada. It had an imposing castle that greeted the pilgrims in the city's entrance. I would have wanted to stay a bit but I had to remind myself that this was just a stopover and I had to catch up with Robi.

I went inside one of the churches in the town centre and took a photo of the pieta.

I made a mental note that the next I walked this path I would spend more time in Ponferrada. Further on I passed by a highway that led into a covered avenue with maple trees lining up on each side. It provided a refreshing canopy of yellow leaves. What was weird about this path was that for the first it led straight into a building. The dreary white halls reminded me sanitariums in horror movies. I wouldn't be surprised if arms of deranged patients would swing out of the iron grills. But the deadening silence reminded me that i was just alone. And that I needed to be more meditative than morbid.

The church right front of the courtyard seem comforting, I wish it were open. I took a brief moment of respite and let the surrounding silence comfort me.

But I had to keep going. I knew that I would not be able to catch Robi (with about a 20 km headstart already) but I wanted to narrow the distance.

The villages in this part of the route are marked by signs of a shell, an arrow and a hand clasping an iron bar.

Once or twice, a cyclist would zoom by followed by a car. I presumed these are rich pilgrims who could afford to have a bodyguard follow them (and have back up plan of getting back to the car and calling everything off if they get too tired). Sadly I did not have that "chicken" button. I knew I had to continue.

It was already past 4 PM when I reached Camponaraya. To my horror , the albergue which I originally planned to stay was closed and the next town was 4 kilometers ahead. Fortunately a local informed me that another private albergue (which somehow was not registered in the Camino app) was available right ahead. I recall it cost about 8 euros but I didn't mind because I badly needed to rest.

Camino Frances Day 4

2016-01-24T21:31:00.003-08:00

I occupied the second bed from the farthest end of the room, a bottom bunk as always. Come to think of I don’t think I have ever occupied a top bunk during this Camino.

The albergue was great except that it had limited number of sockets and the ones available are near the entrance, far from my bed. I know that pilgrims are good people but still I had to check once in a while that my phone was still there while it’s being charged.

My toenails had grown long enough to cause pain from the constant pressure against my rubber shoes. Fortunately a Japanese lady in the room had a nailcutter and I summoned the courage to borrow it.

The guy who occupied the bed beside the wall noticed me grimacing in pain every time I shifted my legs. He told me he also experienced the same pain on his leg in the early part of his Camino. (He started at St. Jean Pied De Port). He assured me that the pain would go away but I should proceed at my own pace and not to be in a rush.

I wanted to start a bit late because I knew that the path for the day would take us to the highest point of the walk. (At least it would be the highest elevation from my starting point, Leon to Santiago de Compostela) I wanted the sun to be a bit up so the temperature will not be too harsh. I was worried because I brought only a leather jacket.

The other day I received news that snow was still seen on the highest point of the walk. I was actually regretting at that time why I did not bring a much thicker jacket.

My agreement with Robi the night before was that we would leave Rabanal together at 8 am.

But Robbie messaged me that he and the other pilgrims in the donativo albergue wanted to catch the sunrise at the highest peak. This would require them to leave much earlier, 4 am.

Four am was an ungodly hour for me. It would be too dark and too cold so I just proposed to Robi that we would meet up at the end of the day at the next recommended stop - Ponferrada.

There was this handy app called the Camino Pilgrim which I had been using for the past 2 days. It gave the distances between stops as well as other important establishments in the locality such as albergues, pharmacies, banks or bars. This app was extremely useful to a clueless pilgrim like me. I learned about this app from an American lady I chatted in the municipal albergue of Villadangas. Based on the app Ponferrada would be about 30 kilometers away.

I left the albergue at 8am. Most of the pilgrims were early risers because there were only 4 people left when I started my trek.

The church of Rabanal was rather striking in the background I paused to take a shot of it a few meters off.

There was something liberating in walking alone because my right leg was getting more painful and I could slow down my pace accordingly and take as many stops as I could.

I normally rest after every hour but the pain made me pause every half-hour or so.

The view was somehow impressive because the foliage was more in the shade of red.

A lonely bench beside a water source just before a steep ascent prodded me to make an unscheduled stop. I recall eating “Filipinos “biscuit, and chugging almost half the contents of my water bottle. For some reason I thought about my dad on this part of the walk. I can’t recall now what made me think about him. I somehow just felt his presence like he was peering from one of the shrubs in the distance.

It started to get foggy and I thought of horror movies particularly the one with a masked guy holding a machete with the signature eerie sound in the background. I couldn’t resist taking a pose with an anxious look on my face. It’s all for show of course.

Visibility was almost zero by the time I entered the area of Foncebadon. I knew I was on an elevated area and I was worried that I might miss a turn and head off to an edge of a cliff. At this point the howling of the winds from the background was growing louder. It was really getting creepy.

Fortunately an imposing man-made structure appeared out of the fog and I thought of taking a break from the cold.

A blast of warm air greeted me when I opened the door of the bar. I ordered a hot Colacao and lingered longer than usual. I would have expected the place to be cut off from the rest of the world yet surprisingly it had internet. The barman was pleased to know that I came from the Philippines. He said in his entire life he only met 2 Filipinos. He told me that in the future should there be a Filipino wanting to brush up his Spanish he could always apply as an intern in his bar. When I left he gave me a warm hug and a small pin. He told me he would pray me that I get reach Santiago safely.

I do hope to meet him again should I walk again the path to Santiago.

At this part of the walk I recall seeing a blond girl heading back. She somehow looked familiar like I met her perhaps a few days back or stayed at one of my albergues. She told me left something behind.

I shuddered at the thought of leaving something behind. The thought of retracing my steps with a painful leg was not my idea of fun.

To my surprise after an hour of walking I finally got to see the famed Cruz de Hierro. This is the point where pilgrims leave behind the stone they carried at the start of their journey. I left the pebble I carried. The act signified the atonement of one’s sins like the whole burden is unloaded.

I lingered for a while to admire the surroundings. I must admit I was slightly disappointed because I thought of a big cross on a summit of steep mountain. Nonetheless I was relieved that the highest point of the walk was not at all that cold. Surely my jacket would be enough to keep me warm for the rest of the journey.

After an hour of waking I was at the boundary of Manjarin. I heard the clanging of bells from a distance. It came from a makeshift roadside shack that offered free food and water to Pilgrims. Another donativo stand. I was impressed with the altruism that I gave a pack of biscuits to the owner to be shared to other pilgrims who will be passing by.

I continued on with my journey not realizing that the next stop would be 7 kilometers away.

I came upon this bench that offered a majestic view of the mountain side. I think this was easily one of the most picturesque spots I have encountered during the camino.

A scene like this made me pause and revel in the present. For a moment I forgot about the throbbing pain on my leg, the hundred kilometers I still needed to walk. I just sat there and relished the view.

I recall seeing a guy fixing his bike. The usual “Buen Camino” greetings were exchanged.

Occasionally I would see a sign of taxi service hung on a mossy trunk of a tree. This was a chicken out option for trekkers who no longer had the will to continue on for the day. I thought of it as cheating. I wondered if I would reach a point where I would give up and just call a cab.

Further on I saw a landmark with a hastily scrawled graffiti that said “ You had all the keys, but I never kept my door locked”. I pondered upon this peregrine words wisdom if only to forget about my painful leg.

From the woods, the path led me to a concrete road. After a foggy morning, and a rainy day the past day I was so glad to see the sun shining, so clear my shadow was distinct. I thought of it as my companion for the walk.

The path was on top of the mountains where the wind was surprisingly strong. I saw this caution sign for cyclists. The English translation was a bit awkward and funny though.

I overheard some voices on the other side of the concrete road so I transferred. It was a dirt road and I figured this was actually meant for the pilgrims. Three bikers passed by and asked if I could take their photos. I gladly acceded and in exchange I had my shot taken as well.

By now my stomach was grumbling and I asked where the next café was. To my dismay they pointed to an area far below the mountains. In hindsight had I paid more attention to the Camino app I would have realized that the next stop after Manjarin is a relatively long 7 kilometers.

Under normal circumstance, 7 kilometers would have been an easy trek. But the pain in my right leg has gotten so unbearable that I stopped by at this landmark.

I pounded on my right led which has swollen already at this point. A pilgrim passed by and asked if I were ok. I told him I was fine. (Although I was really hoping that the next stop would just be nearby).

By the time I was descending a hill, the pain was really really unbearable, I was already hobbling.

I vowed that I would take a stop at the next available albergue.

I saw a sign that the nearest albergue was 800 meters away.

It was the longest and most painful 800 meters I walked.

But I finally made it.

That stop was in El Acebo. I just walked 17.1 kilometers from Rabanal.

Later that evening I received a message from Robi that he arrived at Ponferrada. He was 15.8 kilometers farther on.

I just told him that I would catch up with him in the next 3 days or so.

My walk would suffice for the day.

Camino Frances Day 3

2016-01-17T17:10:00.000-08:00

Robi and I slept in the room with two other guys. As we were the first ones to check in, we managed to get the bottom bunks. The guy occupying the top bunk of my bed caught my attention because he had books in his backpack. It made sense when I learned he started his trek from Paris. His walk was the longest for anyone I have encountered during this trip. He had been walking for the past two months, the books must have kept him company in a number of stops where he had not much to do. His name was Florent.

I can't recall much about our room but I took a photo of it before Robi and I started the trek on Day 3. It was already 7 am when we stepped out of the albergue but it was still dark.

It was such a pity that I was so tired when I arrived at Astorga the day before because I never had the chance to explore the city which I was pretty sure had magnificent landmarks based on the pamphlets scattered in the lounge area of the albergue. Oh well, perhaps someday I will go back again to this town and get more intimate with it.

My power bank had a flashlight which I had been using to light our path. I turned it off by the time we were leaving Valdeviejas. I remember seeing the red sign slashed across town name. I still had not figured out what it meant at this point of the walk. (I eventually figured the red mark meant you were already going outside the boundary of the town)

The path led us to a bridge. It was not much picture-worthy but with the sun rising I thought it gave a good glow in the background. Like some sort of hope or a promise of a new day, of possibilities.

My right leg was limping but my pace was manageable. Though slightly better than it was the evening before, I was worried that I was slowing down Robi. He did not mind he said. Still at that time I wished I were travelling solo.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved the company of Robi but there was much more freedom in travelling alone, knowing you can adjust your speed or stop wherever you want without worrying about someone’s else’s opinion.

And if your leg was hurting a bit, how much you long for this flexibility

Looking back at it now I think I was travelling myself much faster than usual despite the slight pain because I did not want to be much of hassle to Robi.

The route would lead us to a path that cut through a field. There was not much to see on either side, nothing that was worth noting. I surmise the path was not something the locals would use doing their daily routine. It was mainly built for the pilgrims, the shortest path between two towns.

Every kilometer or so a landmark or a road sign would appear with a shell on it. A shell that now has been a mark woven into the fabric of our peripatetic lives. The mark of St. James.

A few meters before the next town the highest structure of the place would pop ahead in the distance. It would serve as a symbol of hope that yes weary traveller, you are fast approaching a good place to stop.

This one was quite memorable for me because we had walked for about 8 kilometers before hitting this place. Finally.

A refuge, a haven to give a break to your sore muscles, to fill your tummies or simply to renew your will that indeed the walk was worth finishing.

We stopped at the first bar that we encountered. There was actually a guy strategically standing 50 meters before the town entrance who promoted another bar further on. Any other day I would have tried his recommendation but at that time my mind was on autopilot. I just felt like resting my aching body on the first available bar.

We stopped at the first one we saw which was on the right side. It was one of those typical bars that offered the usual coffee, colacao, fruit and other bite-sized energy boosters. Of course it had Wifi. World changing events could happen during the time we were walking so I had to check my most reliable source of up to date news… my fb news feeds.

After having a well deserved break and having our passports stamped we trudged on, our backpacks seemingly getting heavier by the minute. We were at Santa Catalina de Gomoza. Nothing really worth noting at this stop except that I bought a walking cane at this place. It was 4 euros for a piece of thick stick that was smoothened, a bit pricey but I thought that I was helping the old lady who was selling it on her doorstep make a living.

I was also hoping the stick would alleviate the pain on my right leg, which would get abnormally painful for a few minutes whenever I pause for a long break.

We passed by a sign that said 249 kilometers to go. I posed beside it jokingly putting on my dismayed face. Jokes were half meant. Despite the humour of it all there was a growing concern in me if I would make it leisurely to the end now that my leg was beginning to be more than a just a mere nuisance.

Robi and I agreed to follow the "for every 4- one" rule. This meant that for every 4 kilometres or so we would stop for 5-10 minutes to massage our feet. It quite helped eased the pain a bit

On the way to El Ganso to brighten the mood Robi and I sang songs along the way. Most of the time he was just humming the tune because he was not much familiar with the lyicrs. But when I played the song "It's my life" by Bon Jovi on my phone, all hell broke loose.

For that span of time it's as if we were in a music festival singing at the top of our lungs. It was a reminder for me that this walk was supposed to be fun.

But it started to rain heavily when we reached El Ganso. (Maybe the gods were not pleased with our singing voices?). We had no choice but to take a break at another bar. At this point my leg was really aching so much that it was Robi who entered the bar and ordered for my colacao (a Spanish chocolate drink). While I know I would look hideous in this selfie I had to capture that moment of weariness and desperation.

We continued on after the rain petered out. The next stop Rabanal del Camino was about 7 kilometres away. It started to rain again as we were turning left of the path. Good thing I had my umbrella. Robi brought out his rain coat. This stalled him for a while. I told him I would go ahead because at the pace I was going he would still catch me up.

I recall seeing what looked like a cemetery on my right. I suddenly had some weird thoughts. What if my father (who died a year ago) was watching just beyond the clearing? I offered a silent prayer to him. And one for me as well that I would have the strength to finish the walk for the day.

I stopped and waited for Robi at this part of the walk because I wasn't seeing yellow arrow signs anymore. Intuitively we just thought of going straight ahead.

I had to choose between options : walk on the muddy road which would give more cushion to my feet but wet ( my shoes were not waterproof and my socks were getting damp) or the concrete road which offered no cushion but dry. In the end I chose the road.

Our path eventually led us to the dirt road. Fortunately it did not rain much on this part so the path was still tolerably dry. I recall this part because Robi and I were talking more about personal stuff about our lives and what our plans were after the walk. Rob quit his job so he can spend time for the Camino. He would look for another job when he gets back to Austria. My future was not certain as well. After the walk I would head home and start all over again. I must admit it scared me a bit thinking of how the future would unfold. But I reminded myself to live in the moment and enjoy every single second of the walk.

We came upon this clearing which provided a change of scenery. It led us to another path which was close by the road.

There were wooden crosses hung on the fence. It looked a bit creepy to me and reminded me of the Blair Witch project. It would really be scary to walk here around dusk.

I knew we were finally headed for civilisation when I saw a church steeple from beyond the mist. Rob stopped and picked some mushrooms. He told me they were edible and was planning to cook them for dinner. I did not want to take the risk actually.

Because I turned on the music earlier, my phone battery ran out already by the time we hit Rabanal del Camino. Our stop was supposedly Foncebadon which was still 5.6 kilometers away, but because it was starting to rain again and there was a donativo albergue in the area Robi finally agreed that we will spend the night at that place.

As were registering in the albergue that was donative, a British guy who was a volunteer in the albergue offended me. He was really rude. Which was a pity because he was a volunteer and was supposed to be courteous.

I do not want to elaborate the details here anymore. Robi did not know anything about it at that time. I just made up an excuse that I wanted to stay in another albergue because I needed to have Wifi.

And so Robi and I slept at different albergues. I just messaged him in WhatsApp that I will catch up with him the following day.

A Spanish guy in the pace where I stayed saw how I hobbled and lent me his spray liniment to soothe the pain. It helped a bit.

I thought I could travel at the same rate on Day 4.

Oh no. I was dead wrong. The most painful walk would happen on Day 4.

Camino Frances Day 2

2016-01-08T01:33:00.002-08:00

I woke up around 5 am on Day 2, which is rather early for my daily routine. Maybe I was too excited to continue my walk. I did not take a shower anymore since I had one already the night before. Ever since I moved to Europe I have gotten used to taking showers in the evening instead of morning.

I peered outside and figured it was still too dark to start the walk so I hung around a bit. I took a photo of the albergue for posterity sake.

For only 5 euros a night I think this place was definitely a steal. The place also offered an 8-euro two-course meal of salad, chicken, pasta, yogurt and fruit. Not bad for a pilgrim's menu. Although given a small tummy I had to spend 2 hours just to finish everything.

Normally albergues offer a room full of double deck beds but for this one I got booked in a room that only had 4 beds and I only had one roommate.

My roommate Christian is Danish. He just finished his schooling in Barcelona and thought of doing the camino to clear his mind. I envied him because at a rather young age he got to be exposed to the world of the camino. I asked him to pose with the UP Ikon sign. I could have asked for his Facebook account so we could keep in touch after the Camino but for some reason I didn't. I guess it's just one of those random things I do.

I was thinking about math -specifically Geometry-while I took this photo. Two lines intersect at a point in a plane and will never meet again. So much like my life and Christian's life.

He had blisters on his feet so he will trek at a much slower rate. I doubt if I will ever see him in the camino again. Or perhaps ever. That somehow made me sad in a way.

I continued my walk at 8 in the morning. This sign was a reminder that I still had almost 300 km to travel.

I stopped by this fountain to get my water supply. One can normally find water source every 4 kilometres or so in the camino route except in some less populated areas.

I took a selfie for Day 2 to send to my friends who were my companions in Camino Portugues. I was doing this camino alone although I was planning to meet my friend Robbie from Austria along the way. He was my first ever Couchsurfing (CS) host.

Funny. We never meant to meet in the Camino but he saw my query in a CS forum and it just so happened that he was planning to do the Camino around the same period. He started his walk in St. Jean Pied de Port in France which was roughly 20 days earlier. Around this time he would have passed Leon also. I was planning to catch up with him at the end of this day.

I also sent this photo to my Cuban friend in Gran Canaria to make him envious. We planned before to do the Camino together but it never pushed through. He replied back "Te odio =P".

Still another selfie along the highway. My hair was a mess because I did not bring any gel. I had to make my load as light as possible, remember?

For paths like these, the route was just straight ahead. And it can be pretty lonely, only the occasional ten-wheeler trucks and cars whirring by, would keep you company.

I took a stop in this bar to have my breakfast and have my pilgrim passport stamped. I recall going to the toilet and I was so glad I brought wipes with me because the wash room lacked toilet paper.

Take note, if you are doing the Camino, always bring wet wipes with you because you'll never know when you've got to go. And when you do, it's better to be armed with a handful of wipes.

My typical breakfast order was a bocadillo de jamon and cafe con leche. I recall seeing a caucasian guy with a terrible case of hangover. I was not sure if he was able to finish the Camino because I never saw him again.

Hung on the wall of the bar is a poster of the route with illustrations of the interesting structures to be seen along the way. In hindsight I should have paid more attention to them. But at that time they all just seemed to be random names except of course for Santiago de Compostela.

The sun was getting harsher at this point so I paused to apply sun block generously on my face. I was not planning to bring sunblock but it was given to me by my roommate in the hostel. He had just finished his Camino and was so excited to learn that I was doing one. To repay his generosity I gave him one of my ethnic necklaces. He was so ecstatic to receive it.

I can't but laugh reading this graffiti.

"Wanna know a secret ? I replaced lukewarm water with Sangria. "

A smart-ass pilgrim scribbled below it " Well that explains the vomit along the camino".

Haha. Pilgrim sense of humour.

I took another shot of my backpack and the UP Ikot sign beside a Camino landmark.

Pilgrim philosophy. Ah pilgrims never cease to amaze me.

"When you throw a stone into the sea, you never know how deep it goes."

I honestly don't know what it meant. Sounded like a new-age mumbo jumbo but deep nonetheless.

This landmark had lots of stones and flyers of albergues along the way. I don't know why travellers pile stones along the way. Maybe a tribute ? Perhaps a marker so that others would not be led astray?

I took a calling card and left a note for Robbie hoping that he'll get to read it when he passed by the same spot. I hoped to meet him in Astorga which was my intended stop for the day.

A few meters before Puente de Obrigo , about 11 kilometres from my starting point for Day 2, I took this shot but I guess I failed my objective. I actually liked the tree formation in the background but the photo did not give justice to it. I once again had to remind myself that using a camera phone had its limitations.

Ah.. Puente de Obrigo. It is one of the picturesque stops I would say.

A tractor, a wheel barrow and some corn in a warehouse in this rustic town.

Occasionally a pilgrim will be faced with a decision. A fork in the road. Not life threatening of course but a decision nonetheless. Would you choose a shorter and straightforward route ? Or a longer but more scenic one?

As it was my second day I still was packed with energy so I took the left route. It brought me right into these fields. For quite some time I haven't seen any yellow sign. I was actually contemplating on retracing my steps at this point.

After walking for 20 minutes I finally saw this sign, an indication that indeed I had taken the right path. I heaved a sigh of relief.

The map of Villares De Obrigo showed that it was pretty much a sleepy town without an albergue or a supermarket.

I made a slight detour and passed by the church. I wanted to go inside and pray and perhaps take a photo of the altar piece as I always do whenever I visit a church but there was a funeral service going on.

I don't know who the guy was, how he lived his life or if he had ever done the Camino. I offered a quick prayer for the repose of his soul nonetheless. It got me into thinking that we might all strangers but we all share a common destiny, that we are all but pilgrims in this world and that there will come a time that we will leave this world behind.

This picnic table was conveniently located in the woods just off Villares de Obrigo. There wasn't any toilet available but I peed nonetheless because I could not hold it any longer.

New roads were being developed along this path. The place was much more scenic than how the camera captured it.

I can't help but smile when I looked at this church. I took a photo of this and missed the arrow sign leading left. Good thing an old man called my attention and told me that I was heading to the wrong direction. Another pilgrim who was tracing my steps almost missed her turn as well.

After taking the right turn the route led us to a muddy field. It was much more difficult to negotiate with the ground that seemed to be so clingy. Further on I hit upon this cross with lots of stones, obviously left by the pilgrims.

There was a makeshift statue adorned with trinkets brought by pilgrims. A jacket here, a bandana there, a beanie, a flag, worn out shoes among others. I felt the need to leave something. So I did. It was a baggage tag with my name on it.

I saw two pilgrims taking a rest on bench beside a tree, a man and a woman.

"So where did you guys start your Camino?" I asked them.
"St Jean." the blond girl replied
"Wow" I exclaimed.
"How about you?"
"Leon. This is my 2nd day"
"No wonder you look different."
I was bit puzzled. "Different? In what sense?"
"Well, you look....civilized"

Civilized. A rather strange word. Perhaps what they meant was that I still didn't have that wornout look.

I continued on. I couldn't find a single soul around me. My mind was operating like a mathematician at this point. If the farthest distance my eyes could reach around me was 1 km. I could say that there was no other soul within 3.14 km2. For some reason my thoughts were on the series "The Walking Dead". I think I am morbid because I tend to associate landscapes with horror movies or series. I remember thinking that it if I were a director of the Walking Dead this would be a good set.

I spotted this stand further on. It offered relief to pilgrims as it gave food in exchange for a donation. It was drizzling again so I took shelter.

My phone battery was getting empty at this point but I managed to get this shot of the cross with a view of Astorga below.

My phone battery finally gave out at this point. Good thing there was a French pilgrim behind me who took my photo and offered to send it via email.

I finally arrived in the albergue in Astorga and got to charge my phone. As fate would have it, Robbie checked in the same albergue and we were even booked in the same room. It was great to meet Robbie again after 3 years.

We decided to cook dinner for the two of us and split the cost. We went to the supermarket to buy the ingredients. Along the way we saw this church of Astorga.

For Day 2 from Villadangos to Astorga I have walked about 28.5 kilometres. My right shin was beginning to hurt at this point, I actually hobbled on the way to the supermarket and back.

Little did I know things were about to get worse.

Camino Frances Day 1

2016-01-02T19:59:00.002-08:00

As part of my new year's resolution I plan to post the story of my Camino De Santiago via the French Way which I started in Oct 29, 2015.

The year 2015 had been a great one for me , I finally did the Camino de Santiago. Not just once but twice !!!

The first one was in April via Camino Portugues. The second one unexpectedly was a bonus.

Because I was not able to extend my visa after my MBA, I thought of ending my stay in Spain with a bang. What better way than by doing another Camino?

Unlike my Camino Portugues post, this series will be mostly led by the photos I took with my Samsung phone.

On October 28, I said goodbye to Murcia, my home for the past year.

I left a big chunk of my luggage in a friend's flat in Madrid.

I stayed for one night in Way Hostel near the Tirso de Molina metro station in Madrid. I checked out at 530 am and took a morning trip to Atocha train station. Two days earlier, I booked a one-way train trip from Madrid to Leon. Leon was about half of the way from the French border to the Santiago de Compostela. Allotting only 15 days to do the Camino, I chose Leon as my starting point.

At 6:30 am of October 29, I was settled comfortably in Atocha waiting for my train to Leon to arrive.

The weight of one's load in the Camino is critical, it will determine whether you will finish the journey or go home broken hearted. One would have to strike a good balance between weight and necessity. I had to go through my stuff three times just to make sure that I bought only what is necessary.

Necessary. That had been the operative word. All the things I would be needing in the next 15 days or so were packed in this 40 L bag.

I did not bring my razor, shaving cream and moisturizer to keep my load light. Without these, I knew I will most likely look like a hobo after the walk (assuming I already don't like one to begin with). I took a selfie inside the train for posterity.

It was drizzling when I stepped out of the Leon station. Good thing I brought my umbrella.

The train from Madrid just took 2 hours so it was still morning when I started my walk. A bit chilly even with 2 layers of clothes and a jacket on.

My first objective was to head straight to a cathedral. There weren't much people walking that day perhaps because of the weather or maybe it was too early. I approached an old lady and used my basic Spanish to ask for the general direction to the cathedral.

She spoke rather fast but somehow I understood that I would just have to walk straight ahead till I see an unmistakable structure.

On my way to the cathedral, I was greeted by a commanding statue of a lion. I haven't done any research of how Leon got its name although I know that Leon is Spanish for Lion.

While I was originally headed to the Cathedral I passed by a big church along the avenue. I asked a couple of beggars hanging in front of the door with the question.

"Perdon, donde puedo coger pasaporte para peregrinos?"

I was pretty sure this was not the colloquial way of asking for directions but somehow it was effective because I ended up in an office beside the church (seemed like a department of the ayuntamiento) and after paying the 2euro fee, I got my pilgrim's passport in no time. The balding receptionist who reminded me of my HR Startegy teacher in MBA was pleasantly surprised to know I came from Las Islas Filipinos.

"There are a number of Asians doing the Camino but rarely from the Philippines."

The first yellow sign I saw during that wet morning was on a lamp post, unmistakable. The rain did not dampen my mood. My Camino was officially starting.

The arrow sign eventually led me to the cathedral of Leon. Like any big church structures it gave a commanding presence. There was an entrance fee and since I was getting such a cheapskate towards this period of my stay in Spain, I decided to forego entering it. Though I was pretty certain that its altar piece would surely be a sight to behold. I took a selfie and a promised to come back to Leon in the future and spend at least 2 days exploring the city.

Further on the trail, I came upon another church. If it were in another town it would have been a major attraction on its own. But since it was in Leon sharing the limelight with the cathedral, I guess it was relegated to an ordinary status. It did not have an entrance fee which was the reason I was able to get a shot of its ornate altarpiece. It reminded me of the altar piece is Los Jeronimos in Granada, each tableau depicting a significant event in the life of Jesus or Mary.

The Camino trail in Leon can't be missed. Every 100 meters or so (at least in the urban area) a sign would appear in the form of a shell or a yellow arrow sign.

I passed by another interesting structure. I didn't know what it is but I think it would definitely be a place I would check out in the future when I return to Leon. When I did this Camino I haven't watched yet the movie "The Way" which was about a Camino journey. I think this building somehow appeared in the movie.

A tribute to pilgrims, this sculpture just in front of the building, depicted an old traveller taking a rest with sandals off his feet.

Still another sign of the Camino de Santiago.

The trail eventually led me to a slightly elevated sub-urban area. Warehouses lined up along the highway signalling that I was now leaving the urban part of the city. It was drizzling once again. I took this shot hoping to get a view of Leon from the hill. I got disappointed with the photo quality and had to remind myself that I only brought a Samsung S3 and not my Nikon DSLR. Such was the tradeoff to maintain a light load.

Some parts of the walk were just right beside the main highway. Warning signs were posted to remind the pilgrims to be extra cautious, lest they would be hit by a speeding vehicle.

At least in the Leon area markers like these indicated the name of the stop, the interesting sights in the area, if there are albergues, supermarkets or hospitals within the vicinity and the distance of the next town. I passed by a Chinese store in this area (thank God for their cheap prices) and bought an extra battery charger for the phone.

My phone battery was draining fast so I turned it off. I wasn't able to take much pictures after the La Virgen del Camino which was a pity. The next shot I took was a selfie with a priest at San Miguel del Camino who gave his blessings to the pilgrims who passed by their church.

At some parts of the walk there weren't many signs but you could not miss the trail because the path was intuitively just straight. As a rule of thumb the default path would be just straight ahead unless an arrow sign indicates to make a turn. Some paths could go on for 7 kilometres without any major town or major stop.

My phone battery definitely ran out of power because the next shot I had was this which was at Villadangos. I laid out the contents of my backpack in the albergue and took a photo of it. Some of the essentials (but often missed out items) are wet wipes and slippers. Glad I've read a list in a forum and brought these items.

For Day 1 I walked a total of 21.3 kilometres from Leon to Villadangos del Paramo. Not bad for the first day. It all seemed that this Camino would be a walk in the park.

I spoke too soon.

Camino De Santiago Day 5

2015-12-30T12:01:00.001-08:00

All good things must come to an end. There was a slight bit of hesitation as I prepared for the last leg of the journey. Everything just went like a blur. It seemed that it was only yesterday when I started the walk and now it was coming to a close.

The group that slept at the private albergue which was about 500 meters away would be passing at our albergue at 6 am. It was still dark when we stepped outside.

We actually walked for a few meters already along the main road when I recalled from the day before that the yellow sign was actually pointing to the left of the fork towards the wooded area. I told the group and we had to retrace our steps.

Further on we passed by a rather scenic route, one that had a distinct S- shape from ahead. The ground was patched on the sides with brown leaves, the morning sun was giving a soft glow to the foliage. I just felt it was a great moment to capture each one’s shot. I was quite pleased with the shot I got of Ze. I think the photo perfectly captured the joy of the present and the wonderful journey that lay ahead. In fact Ze made it his profile pic a week after our walk.

One of my favourite shots of the walk

We stopped by for coffee, our last breakfast together. I cannot recall exactly the details that transpired during our breakfast, but I remember getting a good shot of Kacha while she was enjoying her morning cup.

Kacha enjoying her morning cup

Six kilometers to go

The view on the last stretch of the walk was not as lovely as that of the previous days. This is expected as we were headed to an urban area.

A few kilometers before the final stop, Kacha opened up regarding her reason why she made the Camino. How I wish she had opened up a day earlier. It would have been an interesting topic to talk along the walk. Out of respect for her privacy I would leave out the details.

Suffice to say, each person has a different reason why he does the Camino. Some do it for the physical challenge. Others do it for the religious experience. Still others do it as a form of personal meditation, taking the time off to ponder upon personal issues. Perhaps the change of setting can clear out these things. In hindsight I think I did the walk both as a personal challenge and a form of therapy.

I thought it was a bit anticlimactic when reached the Cathedral of the Santiago De Compostela. I was expecting a feeling of jubilation upon entering the gates of the final stop. Like I would be hearing angel voices or perhaps like I would be having goose bumps.

But instead I felt numb. Maybe because the view was not as grandiose as I expected because the church was being renovated. I thought the scaffolding in front was an eyesore. Or maybe I built myself a shield because I didn’t want to feel so much sadness when we have to part ways.

Congratulatory hugs to everyone

Group shot at Santiago De Compostela Cathedral entrance

Santiago De Compostela Cathedral

Upon reaching the square in front of the cathedral we gave each other hugs and shook hands. We got our certificates in no time. We said goodbye to Kacha who was staying at Santiago for 3 more nights. We promised to stay in touch with one another. She gave us a final wave and disappeared among the crowd.

We started heading to the bus station 10 minutes before 2’oclock. We learned the hard way that the bus station was rather quite far from the center. We were hoping to catch the 2 pm bus to Vigo but missed it by a mere minute. Actually Chico hurt his hand in his rush to catch the bus for us. We had to wait in the station for 2 hours for the next trip.

We took the 7 pm bus to Porto from Vigo. If it was any consolation even if we had taken the earlier bus from Santiago we would have left at the same time from Vigo because the 7 pm bus was the only trip to Porto that day.

Ze’s family dropped off at Braga. Ze and I were to continue to Porto but Chico was staying behind.

Chico gave me a salute as his farewell gesture. I would like to remember the last part of my Camino Portugues with this scene.

Farewell shot of Chico

I was a bit sad when this scene first flashed before me, but now as I look at the shot again, it made me smile. It reminded me of the bond that was formed among us during our Camino de Santiago. A bond that will stay with us forever.

Camino De Santiago Day 4

2015-12-29T22:45:00.001-08:00

The morning we started on Day 4 was chillier than usual. And foggier.

I now write this blog a few months after our walk and my memory is a bit hazy. I had to review the photos taken just to recall how things have unfolded.

I cannot recall much for the morning part except that we passed by a rather scenic path beside the main road that snaked through the woods. I just used my phone to take the shots.

On the way to Padron

After traveling for the past 3 days the scenes just somehow become the same. Unless there is a familiar marker or a photo was taken, I would not have a vivid reminder of that part of the route.

I recall giving a mock photo contest to Ze and Chico. There would be a photo subject and the one who could take a better photo wins. It was amusing to see the healthy competition between the two.

Taking photo of the same subject

We stopped at Padron for lunch. It was easy to remember Padron because of the gnarly trees lining up along the riverbank. There was a green metallic bridge across the river which though functional for pedestrians like us, rather spoilt the rustic setting of the town.

Padron

It was Holy Thursday that day. We were advised to buy stuff already that day - the supermarkets will be closed the following day since it will be a holiday. We were also told that the supermarket will be closed at 2 pm that day. We decided to split the group. One will be ordering lunch and the other will already proceed to the store to buy stuff.

This part of the walk I can vividly recall because while waiting for the others I gave a puzzle to the two brothers who were rather hell-bent to solve it. They took their own private space and were deeply absorbed. (One puzzle I gave them has the theme of a truth teller and a liar and a constraint of only one question).

Ze thinking hard on the puzzle

Chico in deep thought as well

Earlier Chico was trying to learn some Polish courtesy of Kacha. I think he has gotten to a point where he could speak with an accent similar to a local. However when the time came that he had to use the phrase (we met a Polish pilgrim while crossing the bridge in Padron) he forgot about it. I thought that was funny hence I remembered it from the walk.

In the afternoon we were singing songs along the way. We sang our hearts out as if we were being filmed in our own MTV. There was a part of the walk were the brothers gave us a sample of Fado, a music genre in Portugal which is characterized by melancholia.

The whole group was very much enthusiastic whenever I ask them to pose for a shot. Perhaps it was slowly sinking in to everyone that it was our second to the last day together and the inevitable parting of ways was about to come. The past few days of walking somehow bonded us through a unique experience that only can be experienced from the Camino and it was a bit sad that the journey was soon coming to a close.

Firing squad pose

We had to wait for a person to get this shot

Chico gamely posing

Through a tunnel

I recall that the afternoon heat was sweltering I had to change into walking shorts and remove my sweater and just leave a layer of clothing. We passed by a stop where a foot bath was set up.

Foot bath

Ze and Kacha where somewhat doing a role play at this point conversing like Ze was the emperor and the Kacha the wife. I don’t remember much details because I was zoning out. I guess I was getting a bit sad that in a day’s time the walk was going to be over.

The recommended stop for the day would have been Padron but Ze’s mom wanted to catch the pilgrim’s mass in Santiago at noon so we continued on. We were planning to have only 10 kilometers of walk for the last day.

The albergues at Teo were full by the time we arrived. A private albergue that costs 10 euros/ person had 4 slots left. We gave it to Ze’s mom, aunt, his cousin and Kaja. The next albergue was also full but we're able to find space underneath the stairs. The person in charge of the albergue has already left so we did not pay anything.

It was sweet of Sarah (whom we met in the private albergue) to walk us to the municipal albergue. As a token of appreciation I offered to walk her back while Ze and Chico were preparing for our meals. I didn't know back then that it would be the last time we'll be seeing her as we didn't meet on the last day.

The brothers did not have to do any cooking actually because the other pilgrims have some macaroni pasta left for us.

Macaroni for dinner

Since it was a municipal albergue it had minimal amenities. The shower was even communal. It was my first time to take a shower in a communal bath and I was a bit embarrassed. Fortunately the other pilgrims have already slept so we just had the bathroom to ourselves. The heater was not quite functioning well though. I gave out a bloodcurdling scream when the first blast of icy cold water hit me.

As we were lying on our mats underneath the stairs that night I could not help but remember Harry Potter. Did he also sleep underneath the stairs too? I cannot remember now. But I did not feel sorry. In fact I slept much better that night compared to the night before because the spot was cozy.

What a stark contrast. When I used to work in a multinational company I get to sleep on king size beds of five star hotels. That particular night I was lying down in a humbling place. But it was a five star experience. The experience of being a pilgrim in the Camino. And no overnight stay in a five star hotel could ever match that experience.

Camino De Santiago Day 3

2015-12-20T05:10:00.000-08:00

On the third day I decided to stay behind and walk separately from Ze’s group. There were two reasons. First I wanted to have a little bit of spirituality in my Camino so I could have a silent conversation with God. And being alone would help that.

The second one is that I wanted to focus my attention on revealing the punch line of my April Fool’s day joke to my MBA classmates.

The walk alone was rather refreshing. I had the time to pray the rosary. I passed by an old church and took a UP Ikot photo.

Church in Pontevedra

Further on I crossed a magnificent bridge . I had a sudden realization of the present. It reminded me of the quote by Heraclitus.

'No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.'

I pondered upon this quote as I was crossing the bridge relishing every moment of it. There is a slight possibility that some day I will cross the river again but the circumstances will be different and it will be a different version of myself. It reminded me of man’s mortality and somehow it made me sad.

Bridge in Pontevedra

Along the path I saw a coffee shop (smack in the woods which made it somehow out of place) and I paused to prepare the message I intend to reveal to my MBA classmates regarding my prank.

I turned my phone off so that I would have remaining battery for the big reveal. I realized that the view was much nicer than the past two days. Bummer. I was taking photos of the surroundings but I was not with the group. I suddenly missed them.

Walk in the woods

I overtook a group of pilgrims. I took a shot of group and learned than one of them was from Murcia. They would have gladly welcomed me in their group but I was determined to spend the morning walk alone.

A group of pilgrims

Further on I saw a lady accompanied by two grandsons. They were giving a fruit each to the pilgrim. I guess she wanted to show her support to the pilgrims in this way. I asked if I could have a photo with them. Maybe because of the gesture of the photo shoot or maybe because it was a rare opportunity for her to find an Asian doing the walk much less a Filipino. Whatever it was, she gave me three fruits, that’s two more than the usual number they give to a pilgrim. I was quite pleased and felt special.

Posing with the lady who was giving fruits to the pilgrims

I decided to have lunch a few kilometers before Caldas del Reis. I was expecting that Ze’s group would at least be there or at least have gone ahead because I have not caught up with them along the path.

In the bar I asked a couple who came from Portugal if they saw them. Much to my surprise they said they have been in the bar a while but Ze’s group have not passed the area yet and they were quite sure of it

I was a bit puzzled because I did not encounter them along the way.

I went to inside the bar to order sandwich. When I got back the couple told me that Ze’s group just arrived and went to the lawn area of the bar. I went out just in time to see Ze. I was so glad to see him that I gave him a big hug. It seemed like we have been separated for ages when it was only half a day that I got separated from the group. Perhaps there is something extraordinary about the ordinary. But this mini reunion with Ze and the group was one of the things I recall fondly about this walk.

Reunited with the group at lunch

On the way to Caldas Del Reis the sun was really scorching but despite this the group was quite enthusiastic whenever I ask them to pose.

It is day 3 and the journey is coming to a close in 2 days time. Maybe this impending reality is slowly getting through everybody so they want to at least capture every moment of the journey.

Caldas Del Rey the intended stop for the day was well known for its flowing water that there were lots of stations in the place where pilgrims could soak their tired feet. I saw Sarah again while admiring the view of the river. Chico shouted at her and her friend. Since our group was relatively slow the albergue was already full when we arrived.

Fortunately due to the charms of Chico we found an apartment that accepts pilgrims. He was lucky that the lady he asked for a recommendation happened to know the owner of an available apartment. It was quite a steal. For only 6 euros per head we got the entire apartment to ourselves. There was also a kitchen and a washing machine (we had our clothes washed and dried). For that night we cooked dinner. Chico prepared an awesome meal of pork and mushrooms. The way he cooked the rice was also superb, I asked for tips from him.

A great dinner cooked by Chico

Later that evening we had some photoshoots. And then we played some music. I recall that Ze, Cacha and I were dancing on the ledge of the house while the upbeat music is being played. We danced as if we had our own club and we were oblivious to the people down below. We just wanted to have fun. I can’t recall the reason why Chico was not with us. I think he probably gave his mom a massage.

The flat has big living room

Anyway the dance was quite fun and if not for the biting cold and the trek that awaits the following day we would have continued on until the wee hours of the morning.

That was another quite memorable moment for me of the walk.

Camino De Santiago Day 2

2015-12-19T00:45:00.001-08:00

We slept on the floor on my second night and it was good that the albergue had some mats. It was a bit chilly, Ze and I strategically placed ourselves near the heater as we were the only ones without sleeping bags.

We woke up quite early that morning which was advantageous because it provided the group a good head start. I had salchichon for breakfast, which the others thought was weird because it is considered heavy food for breakfast.

It was still a bit dark when we continued on. A few meters ahead we saw a fork but the arrow was hard to find in the darkness. We just trusted our gut to take the left route. We had walked a considerable distance already but haven’t found any sign yet. Trucks on early morning trips were rumbling from a distance. Other than that, the darkness was just filled with our footsteps.

I was worried that we were headed to a wrong path but after about 500 meters Ze’s flashlight hit upon a yellow arrow sign. I heaved a sigh of relief

We took a break at a sloping path and several pilgrims walked past us. Whatever headstart we’ve had was slowly thinning down.

Early morning start

Just off the woods, a bold in-your-face Camino de Santiago was conspicuously displayed. I took this opportunity to take a photo of the jersey my buddy lent me. I was pretty sure he would love the idea.

Jersey shot

A girl who was travelling alone caught up on us. I remember her. She slept on the same floor of our albergue. She asked something in the morning in the voice so loud that almost woke up another group that were still snoozing. In her defense she was not aware that there were still other folks on our floor. She was quite apologetic when we informed her that there were still some people sleeping.

I took the opportunity to ask her if she could take a photo of our group. From then on she decided to stay with us. I was initially annoyed at her because she kept on teasing me for taking photos here and there. Her name was Kacha and she came from Poland.

Group shot taken by Kacha

Kacha with Chico and Ze

Further on my camera just stopped taking pictures. It dawned on me that I have forgotten to charge my camera. I was a bit annoyed because a lot of magnificent views came. Murphy’s law at work. There was one magnificent view of the seaside as we were going down a hill that I recall. Now my only reminder of this was a selfie shot taken from Chico’s phone.

Last shot from my camera for the day

Selfie from Chico's phone

As we were walking, Spanish folks would great us “Buen camino” which literally means “ Good walk”. That was when I realized the origin of a popular Filipino surname “Buencamino”.

"Buen Camino !" Photo taken from my phone

We had a game introduced by Kacha which was like the “Pinoy Henyo” game. Someone will think of a person in mind. The rest will take turns in asking questions answerable by yes or no only. One loses a turn if the answer to the question is a no. The game ends when the name of the person is guessed. I realized that sometimes an “easy answer” is quite difficult to guess if you don’t ask the right question. Such was the case of a popular European figure in Politics whom we had a hard time figuring out after several rounds, until the question “is he from Vatican?” was asked.

It made me realize that in life in order to find the answers we are seeking we need to ask the right kind of questions.

We had lunch at the ascending path of a hill beside a playground. I recall smelling a dead rat nearby. The guessing game we were having was stalled because it was Chico’s turn and he did not want to give up. He was almost close to guessing the name of a person who was a member of the Beatles. I just realized how competitive Chico was.

Ze seemed like he had a second stab at childhood because he was swinging in the playground with such glee. Ze’s fun was contagious , Chico, Kacha and I explored the playground as well.

I found a stick along the way. It was long with a slight arch on the end. It seemed to glide quite easily when I use it so I thought of carrying it with me.

In one of the stops, I left my glasses. We walked about 300 meters when I realized I forgot it. Not wanting to stall the group I told them to go ahead as I had to come back to search for my glasses. Fortunately I found it at that spot where I sat down. I was quite lucky to have found it. A strong wing could have easily blown the leaves and made it difficult for me to find it.

After the walk in the woods we once again walked along the streets of a town. I recall passing by a small chapel with minimal illumination as if it was abandoned. There was a stamp available . It had a note inviting the pilgrims to go ahead and put a stamp on our passport.

Then we passed by Redondela, a beautiful town that has a narrow bridge across a river. Once again a nice view. I rue again the fact that my camera at that point was nothing but an annoying extra load on my back.

As we nearing Pontevedra, I noticed the two American girls we saw the previous day, running as if they were contestants in the Amazing Race. Turns out they received news from other pilgrims that the Albergue in Pontevedra our intended stay for the day was getting full and they were trying to claim the remaining slots.

Upon hearing the news our group started to walk faster than usual. But we were no match to the speed of the two girls.

We finally reached Pontevedra. There were 6 slots in the albergue and there were 7 of us (including Kacha). We finally resolved it that 4 of Ze’s family will share in 3 mattresses and the other 3 will have a mattress each.

We arrived at 6 pm so we didn’t have time to explore Pontevedra anymore. I just went to the supermarket to buy food for the following day.

Camino Portugues taken from a poster in the Albergue

It was March 31, a day before April fools day. I told Ze about a prank I played on my MBA classmates. I was planning to have a big reveal on April Fools Day. Ze liked the idea so we decided to play a prank on Chico. We slipped a piece of paper underneath his pillow supposedly a love note from one of the pilgrims. (This was cleverly handwritten by Kacha).

I was supposed to do a speech to be taped by Ze but by then I was really tired and I prioritized finishing a blog post as part of April Fool’s day prank to my MBA classmates.

And so we went to sleep. The room filled with snores from other pilgrims but I was dead tired that I too easily fell asleep. And that was the second day of my Camino.

Camino De Santiago Day 1 Part 2

2015-11-13T03:15:00.002-08:00

Our stop happened to be just around a creek. A group of pilgrims passed by (from Madrid if I recall correctly) and we asked one of them to take a photo of the brothers and me sitting on a small bridge. The photographer in me was hoping it would be a perfect shot but Ze had his eyes closed. Bummer.

At a bridge in Tuy

We trudged on and the three of us were getting a little bit behind because we would occasionally stop to take shots here and there. There was one area where Chico borrowed my camera to get a shot from an elevated position. The effect was rather good because he focused on us while blurring the nearby leaves on the foreground. It was at this point that I got convinced that Chico really has an eye for good shots.

Photo taken by Chico

The path led to a long wooden bridge with the unmistakable yellow sign on the railing. Only a fool would get lost to the intended destination, as the yellow marks are conspicuous all throughout. Further on, the group went again for a quick break. I made some calculation that at the rate we were going we could not do the original plan of spending the first half of the day walking and the rest of the day, exploring the town of the chosen stop. I did not mind the pace because it allowed me to have considerable rest, so convenient actually I felt it was just a leisurely walk. Before the trip I was initially worried that I might be the slowest one, delaying the overall pace of the group but such was not case.

Conspicous signs

Into the woods

In one of our stops I notice a blue arrow pointing towards the opposite direction. Chico told me that it was a sign leading to a route to Fatima. How cool is that. I made a small reminder to myself to visit Fatima if given the chance to spend some time in Europe again.

Around 12, I was feeling a little bit hungry and I was wondering why the group still has not decided to have lunch. Then I remembered that lunch in this part of the world is at 2 pm.

We had lunch at a restaurant at the foot of a hill. We ordered a sumptuous Octopus meal with chili, a specialty of that region. And boy that Octopus really tasted heavenly, partly because I was extra hungry from walking. (I would later learn from a Spanish friend that the Pulpo in the Galicia region is the best and tastes different from the ones served in the Murcian region.)

Pulpo De Gallego

Ze borrowed my phone for a while because he was expecting a feedback from an internship in one of the leading firms in his city. I was hoping he would make but he told me he didn’t. Ze is a debater in his school And I presumed he was a good one as I see in the fb feeds that he represents his school in contests)

After lunch

After lunch, the group had to choose whether to pass by a scenic route though 4 kilometers longer or a shorter one but would lead us to an industrial area. Good thing the group decided to choose the shorter route as I was looking forward to just have a good rest in the albergue.

The industrial path reminded of a similar industrial area in Subic, a city in the Philippines. The path looked strangely familiar, I can't believe I was thousand miles away from home.

The heat was rather scorching but I did not mind. I initiated a quiz game with Ze that started first with a vocabulary game. Eventually Chico joined us and I gave them logical puzzles. One was concerning weighing eight balls with one defective ball. I was quite pleased that the two brothers had appetite for logic games. It made the walk much more interesting. Time just seemed to fly by easily.

We passed by a highway and had a quick stop in a bakeshop where I took some candid shots of the group. Normally the shops we stopped by have stamps to put on our pilgrim passport to show proof that we have indeed passed by the route.

Candid shots in the bakeshop

We finally reached O Porrino the intended stop for the day but to our dismay, the hostel was closed due to bug infestation. One option would have been to stay at another hostel but it was bit expensive for the group. We took a break around a fountain to decide on the next move. A few of us went to the supermercado to buy food.

I saw Sarah again and she looked so lovely as she sat there near the fountain. She told us that she would catch a train to the next stop where she will spend the night.

Sarah taking a break at O Porrino

Our group decided to walk on. We met again a Spanish family that we have met earlier in the woods. They were checked in the albergue in Mos. (about 3 km from O Porrino). The albergue was already full but the management allowed us to sleep on mats in the recreation room on top.

While we were waiting for the room to be cleaned, we had our phones charged. Ze and I played a game that seemed like trump. The suits of the cards were weird , different from the ones I am used to- clubs, clovers hearts and diamonds.

Spanish cards (photo taken from www.delcampe.net)

Playing that card game with Ze just seemed surreal. Maybe because the card suits look different. Maybe because it just seemed so unlikely that I would meet again my host in Porto. And yet there I was with him. And he was teasing me because he beat me on the second round. I normally am a sore loser but I did not mind because my heart was bursting with joy. It was my first day of Camino with the group. Everything just seemed perfect.

Camino De Santiago Day 1 Part 1

2015-07-21T04:45:00.001-07:00

We woke up the next day around 530 am, and much to my surprise, though there is a barely light from the outside, half the people in the room had already packed up and left. While hastily fixing myself in the bathroom I found out that one of my contact lens was missing. Bummer. It meant that I would have to wear glasses the rest of the journey. This I abhor because I don’t like to have my glasses on when posing in front of a camera as they make me look older. I normally bring a spare set of lens for trips like this, so I was quite disappointed that I missed it in my pack.

In the ground floor area, on the way to the kitchen, I was finally introduced by Ze to his mom, aunt and cousin, who had already their backpacks slung on their back. They all couldn’t speak much English so Chico and Ze had to do the translation. Despite the language barrier I felt their hospitality and friendliness and I knew that I was very much welcome to their group.

The two brothers and I had a quick breakfast in the pantry (a few slices of bread, a handful of salami and half a carton of milk). It was not much but I couldn’t complain as these were just items left by other pilgrims. As I would later find out throughout the Camino, generosity and hospitality are a common thing, like the whole experience transforms the pilgrims into better and transcendental versions of themselves

While munching my breakfast contentedly, I saw a pretty blond girl, with a hauntingly penetrating pair of blue eyes. I guess all blue eyes melt my heart in a certain way. I tried to do a bit of a small talk. I learned that she was from Bremen and doing the Camino alone which really impressed me (although I would later find out the solo female pilgrims are common). I somehow sensed that she wanted to be in a meditative mode (or perhaps I was just being paranoid) so I let her be in her own zone.

Chico also had a conversation with her and I somehow sense that Chico has this charm of letting the guards of the girls down – he reminded me of a friend back in the Philippines who was a natural charmer and I wouldn’t be surprised if Chico is a ladies man.

It was a foggy morning and it was drizzling when we stepped out of the albergue. The team put on disposable raincoats – similar to the ones handed out in grocery stores. I was pleased to know that Ze’s family brought an extra coat for me.

The path led us back to the wall and I couldn’t resist taking a photo of the group. I found out during that part that Chico also had this interest for taking photographs. He showed me some photos taken from his phone and I was pleased that he had the eye. Great, I thought to myself. We have something to talk about along the way and I could teach him some basic photography rules.

A shot at the wall before the journey

We passed by the bridge that connects Portugal and Spain. I thought that there would be a passport checking station at the border similar to the ones I have seen in the movies- the movie 'Shining Through' came to mind- but to my surprise (more like dismay actually) we went through it just like that as if we just moved from one town to the other.

Ze’s aunt explained that back in the pre-EU days they had to sneak to the other side to buy stuff at cheaper prices.

At the bridge between Portugal and Spain

The first town of Spain from the border is Tuy. Just off the bridge, there lay a distinct sign of the Camino De Santiago and its symbol, a yellow-colored shell with lines that seem to look like rays of light. I was told by Chico that pilgrims or “peregrinos” hardly get lost in the Camino because all one needs to do is look at the direction where the lines are radiating. How quaint, just like a compass.

Camino de Santiago sign in Tuy

We passed by alleyways made of cobblestones typical of European towns and followed the signs. In one part of the town that was sloping I thought of taking a photo of Ze and Chico. We had to take turns taking photos as we did not have a tripod. Fortunately two girls with heavy American accent and backpacks twice their size came by and offered to take our photos. How sweet of them. I was hoping to invite them to join our group but hesitated, since technically I only tagged along with Ze’s family and I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable with a pair of strangers joining us.

At Tuy

As this walk was on a holy week, a lot of churches were open with their traditional preparation for Good Friday, the day the Lord was crucified. The strangest arrangement I have seen was actually in Valença where a big cruficix was laid down slanting on the center of church floor, the pews set aside the walls while another image of Christ was standing on the centre as if watching over its doppelgänger.

A unique set up in Valença

The row of houses along the path slowly thinned out and we went straight to a path that leads to the woods. There was a huge block of rock that depicted Santiago or St. James, the person who started the Camino and our group thought it was an ideal place for a long rest.

A stone sculpture depicting St. James

During this time I took out my precious token, the UP Ikot sign. Only my friends back in the Philippines could truly understand its meaning. It is a signboard used in jeepneys to indicate the route of the vehicle. I posing in different European cities with that sign never fail to amuse my friends back home. For some, it seems that the European city is just one of the stops of the local jeepney. For me it probably means something deeper, like a life journey, going away from home and yet never leaving it. I am not sure if that makes sense.

I asked Chico to pose holding that Ikot Sign. (Ze already had a shot back when I first couchsurfed in Porto) Chico made a funny face.

At that moment seeing the local sign held by a person who comes from a totally different place just seemed extraordinary. It’s hard to imagine that two different worlds could actually coexist. The sign which reminded of my home and Chico who at that instant is the embodiment of Europe just made the shot seemed so unreal and yet it’s there, the scene right there in front of me, reminding me of the two disparate worlds I came from.

Chico with the UP Ikon sign

It seemed that only days ago the Camino de Santiago was but a dream but that very moment it reminded that it was all happening. And that I was there. And I really felt alive and aware that moment.

(to be continued)

Camino De Santiago Day 0 Part 2

2015-07-20T10:35:00.003-07:00

Dark clouds were swirling ominously in the sky when I stepped off Estadio do Dragao. The place was rather bare except for the building on my right, presumably the stadium. It was a chilly morning, but my thought was not much on the coldness or the bleak weather, but on my phone battery that was almost running out. I would have no way of contacting my friend’s godfather in case I lose the remaining power.

I have agreed with my friend Ze that I will leave some stuff not needed for the camino-my camera and my mac- with his godfather. I decided to bring my camera to Porto because I promised my friend that I will be taking good portrait shots of him- like I had done to my hosts in couchsurfing- so he could update his Facebook profile.

Fortunately my friend’s godfather received my message and they were on time. There wasn’t anyone in the area so it was quite easy to determine that the new persons who arrived were my contact. After a quick exchange of introductions, I transferred my stuff to the trunk of the car. Ze’s godfather, who also happens to be his uncle is fluent in English- quite a delight since I was used to a lot of non-fluent English speaking in Murcia- so it was quite easy to share a few things about myself and then of course the planned Camino. He was accompanied by his son – perhaps he was around 13 or 14 – and his English was also commendable.

They dropped me off at the train station (which is quite far from the tram station) so I could purchase my ticket to Valencia, Portugal. I still had 2 hours to spare, so Ze’s uncle was kind enough to offer a quick tour of Porto. We passed by this church which I actually had visited the first time I was in the city. I did not mind visiting the place again since it has a nice view of the city.

Train Station at Porto

When his uncle dropped me off at the station, he suggested that I bring my camera so I could take good pictures. So at the last minute I took my DSLR and transferred it to my backpack. In hindsight, it had been a great decision.

I still had about 45 minutes to spare so I had a quick lunch in a café. I used my Spanish only to realize after placing my order that I was in Portugal and not Spain. Still the cashier understood what I ordered. It was a pasta dish that looked so yummy at first glance yet tasted bland.

Nonetheless the tasteless food did not bother me at all, I was getting excited for the walk. It felt so surreal because it only seemed more like wishful thinking 2 years ago that I would be back in Porto again. Yet at that moment I was there in flesh and I was about to embark on my Camino de Santiago.

Ten minutes before the departure I already went to the platform. It must be the engineer in me, I always apply a safety factor. Count me to always be in the platform area way before my scheduled train ride.

Train schedule

There were only a few people taking the trip; in my carriage I think there were only two passengers. I occupied the front area so I could take great shots of my backpack with the UP Ikot sign on it.

The route offered a seaside view of Portugal and it reminded me of the rocky beaches we have in my hometown.

We passed by a train station named Nine. I chuckled and hastily took a photo of it. I have a friend whose nickname is Nine and I was pretty sure she’d be delighted to know that a station is named after her.

Station Nine

Finally we have reached the station Valença. It reminded me of the train station on my way to Fuji. It was characteristic of a train station of a sleepy town whose probably only connection to the rest of the world was the train station.

Valença Station

There was no electric plug in the station which somehow I have half-expected for a sleepy town such as this. I started walking away from the station. Surely the wall which my friend used as the main landmark to meet should be just nearby. Good thing I passed by a café that had free Wifi so I received message from Ze that their trek took longer than expected and they would be arriving 2 hours late.

I received a message in gmail from my mentor in Toastmasters in the Philippines regarding the feedback on my taped speech. It felt so strange reading that message because it seemed my hometown was a faraway place and that message brought me back to reality that yes, two worlds can indeed exist at the same time.

Thanks to Google map, the wall was easy to locate. It was perched atop a hill like a lookout. I had to remind myself that this place was useful during the times of conquests in the past. Though I know nothing about its history, it just seemed intuitive.

View from the wall

The fort offered a commanding view of a river which separated Spain from Portugal.

I was bit hungry so I went to have a late lunch – a jamón serrano sandwich and a coke- in a bar which thankfully allowed me to have my phone charged.

It turned out my friend wrongfully estimated their pace because fours hours passed by but still no word from them. I was thinking he probably ran out of battery. But surely if they had arrived he might have charged it already. After six hours of waiting I thought I would just meet them at a hostel. (Am surprised how I kept myself alert while waiting for six hours).

I saw some boy scouts walking in a single file with a yellow flag and I thought they were probably a group doing the Camino as well.

The sun was already setting down so I decided to head down the fort and find a hostel to spend the night. This was when I received a call from Ze.

My phone was dying again so I barely heard his instruction to go the hostel. I thought I heard "Teotico" which I recall was a hostel near a church where I stayed earlier so I ran back. The receptionist told me I had the wrong hostel. He was kind enough to point out the albergue on the map.

On the way back I asked a guitarist ( who I earlier saw playing some songs for money on the street) and he was kind enough to accompany to a shop to ask for directions. “Hurry” the store owner told me. "The fort gates will be closed anytime soon so if you pass that way you will reach the hostel."

I ran as fast as I could. He sent me back to the albergue which was actually the first place I originally intended to go. The event reminded me of the quest of Santiago in the book "The Alchemist"

Fortunately the hostel was just a few steps from the wall. I paid my fee to the albergue and waited for Ze to give me my Pilgrim card.

By some stroke of luck he passed by the lobby and gave him my warmest hug. It has been two years since we last met. The trek seemed to have worn him out yet he gave a great smile. He introduced me to his brother, Chico.

They invited me to watch football but I politely begged off since I was so tired. They told me the girls quarters were different from the boys so they would have to introduce me to their mom the following day.

Ze showed me an available top bunk next to his place. I slumped on my bed and in no time slept.

And that was my first day.

Camino De Santiago Day 0 Part 1

2015-05-28T12:35:00.004-07:00

I was having a catchup lunch with a friend who just finished her PhD in Germany. She was settling down quite well back in the country while I was psychologically preparing for my transfer to Spain for my MBA studies.

"If you have time, do the Camino De Santiago", she suggested.

That was the first time I heard about the pilgrimage.

Camino de Santiago

What I recall from our conversation was that the Camino is more of an offering, a sacrifice for people who walk at least 20 kilometers a day until they reach Santiago De Compostela.

Images of pilgrims who reek of sweat from a day-long hike entered my mind. Surely if I will do this pilgrimage I need to work on the sensitivity of my sense of smell.

After that fateful lunch, the Camino de Santiago became part of my bucket list.

I was planning to do it in July during my summer break in the MBA. But as fate would have it my buddy from Porto invited me to join him and his family for the Camino during Holy Week. Life indeed offers a lot of surprises.

And so much earlier that I expected, my Camino De Santiago began.

Airfare from Alicante (the nearest airport from Murcia) to Porto was quite pricey, so I took a cheaper alternative. I booked my flights to and from Madrid airport and booked train tickets from Murcia to Madrid.

It was a bit gloomy the day I arrived in Porto. It reminded me of the weather the first time I arrived there two years earlier. I also recalled how confusing it was to go to the tram station from the airport terminal.

As instructed by my friend I was to meet his uncle first so I could leave my stuff with him (things that are not important during the hike)

There is something about train rides and gloomy weather that makes me sad. I recall the the time I took a train to Hakone from Tokyo. The train was rather packed and there was this Japanese lady (perhaps in her early twenties) who went onboard and hang on the railing. She was probably late for work as she was still applying her lipstick while clamping a folder in one arm. She looked awkward in that position and looked a bit worried that she might get off balance if the train would suddenly stop. Miraculously she made it and boarded off about 2 stops before my stop.

I recall hearing the cascade of waterfalls when she got off the train. For some reason I really felt depressed that time (as if a dementor just passed by). Maybe because of the gloomy weather. Or maybe because of the sad reality that I will never see her again. And I guess it goes for all the passengers on that train (except maybe for my buddy Gabby who was hosting me at that time). I just felt sad that I will just be a sentence in someone's life pages. I could not articulate this feeling until some genius guy coined a word for it. Sonder. The realisation that everyone has a story as vivid and as complex as your own.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkoML0_FiV4

Ok I now digressed a bit here. But I guess I had to capture that mood when I went back to Porto.

In every stop of the tram, a female voice in the intercom would announce the name of the station followed by "Direction Estadio do Dragao". There was definitely a certain nasal charm of the Portuguese language. The girl's voice sounded like she caught the flu or something.

I was not worried that I would miss my stop because it was the last one. The repetitive voice
of the train was like a wake up call for me during that lazy cloudy morning. I was already in Porto and my adventure was right about to start.

(to be continued)

Paying it Forward

2014-04-30T23:42:00.001-07:00

So there's this cool set up called Trade School. It works on the premise that anyone can be a teacher and medium of exchange is through a barter system.

Anyway I thought that my backpacking experience in Europe for the past 3 years somehow gives me a little bit of wisdom of what to do and what not to do.

http://tradeschool.coop/manila/

So as a "Pay it forward" attempt I set up a class for Europe Backpacking Tips and Tricks.

I do hope to inspire a lot of young Filipino travellers to take the plunge.

Eurotrip 3 : First Stop Paris

2013-12-13T12:45:00.003-08:00

Ok no surprises here.. The last time I updated this blog was 2 months ago. God has it been that long already? It seemed like it was only yesterday that I arrived back from Europe.

As a personal I promised to document the bits and pieces of my journeys past if only to have some basis for my friends who plan to wander off Europe some day.

Like my 2nd Eurotrip, my first stop was Paris. This was an easy decision because the cheapest flights from Manila are to Paris. It used to be Manila-Amsterdam when KLM was still operating here.

Paris did not enamour me as much as before. I guess the novelty has worn off?

My friend Kathy whom I met through CS was fortunately still based in Paris and was gracious enough to meet me and have a quick tour around the boulevard Hausmann area.

I'm a sucker for intricate church interiors hence I was so elated when we went inside St. Michel church.

It happened to be a Friday the 13th that time and we gamely posed with a team promoting a lottery happening that night.

So far that Friday the 13th did not turn out to be unlucky..