Afterwards, May 26. Chris' Camino Dream.

From Chris on May 26. 

An easy though LONG flight home. 

But then drama at the budget car rental desk.  Some of you may recall that I had lost my credit cards about half way thru our Camino walk. So we had carefully gathered a lot of cash. The only problem: for Budget, cash was not an option. Everyone got very creative, and daughter Sandy came through with a faxed photo copy of her credit card, and I was on my way to SB.

And in bed by 8 pm.

It is now. 2 am and  I have just woken from a wonderful Camino dream  (River had been
disappointed that I wasn't sure I wanted to come back; too many other travel possibilities. My psyche seems to say otherwise!)

In the dream, we were indeed back on the Camino, making our way through a dark wet morning through very narrow village streets, hemmed in by rather  decrepit gray stone buildings -- an endless winding street that was clearly not leading anywhere, certainly not to an open square with an open cafe.

But then River turned on Google earth. Suddenly we were walking the same terrain but VOILA -- all was in technicolor. The streets were inviting. They led to squares full of happy peregrinos and on to a beautiful countryside. 

That River!

Love
Chris

From River;

Chris' dream reminds me of the transformation in our Camino when I suggested we take the bus from Santiago to Muxia. Suddenly we had sunshine, rest, colors, meetings with wonderful peregrinas. It was the best part of our Camino. And we barely walked! My take home lesson from this Camino is that it is not all about walking.  

Day 28, May 23. Last day in Santiago

Day 28, May 23, Last day in Santiago. 

We ate, strolled, rested, ate, napped, ate, packed up River's backpack (to be checked luggage from Santiago to Barcelona Tuesday, and from Barcelona to Seattle Wednesday, and wrapped it using the dura bolsa plastica and shipping tape that River found at a hardware store), rested, ate, went to bed and said goodbye to our Camino. 

Day 27. May 22. Bus from Muxia to Santiago de Compestella

Day 27. Sunday May 22. Bus from Muxia to Santiago de Compestella

Along with many other pilgrims we got up early to catch the 7:30 bus back to Santiago. Photo 1 shows the dramatic rain-washed dawn sky as we waited for the bus. 

 

 

We arrived in Santiago and made our way by taxi to our albergue appropriately named The Last Stamp (where we received the last alburgue stamp on our pilgrim credential).  

After breakfast Chris suggested going to the pilgrim mass. River was surprised both that Chris suggested it and that she was a little resistant. Inside the cathedral (despite the fact that we were 45 minutes early, the pews were totally full), a very sweet woman gave up her "seat" on the edge of a stone pillar for Chris, (and River, copying a nearby troop of youth pilgrims, sat on the cathedral floor beside her.) These turned out to be great seats where we could stand on the foot of the pillar for a great view of the altar and even snuggle together. River found herself in tears (from the moment the woman (cantor?) who more or less narrated the Mass began to sing) for the entire mass. 

Fortuitously we had a much better location than in 2012 for really appreciating the magical swing of the giant incense burner (botafumeira) which seemed to combine solemn high ritual with childlike play. River was particularly grateful that she, unlike most other pilgrims, had obeyed the request to turn off all phones and cameras, and so was able to fully watch and feel the movement rather than try frantically to "capture" it as she had done (so unsuccessfully) in 2012. 

Photo 2 shows Chris in the cathedral and photo 3 shows both of us snuggling against our stone pillar. (Both taken before mass started and the request to turn off cameras and phones. )

 

 

Then like almost everyone else we went and found a tapas restaurant for lunch before getting settled into our albergue. After a brief nap we went out again for hot chocolate and churros in the sun. This involved a slight adventure because all the tables were full. River's response was to hide in a shady corner waiting for one to become empty, Chris' response (to River's chagrin) was to stand very visibly near the tables waiting for someone to offer to share, which of course happened. Our "hosts" turned out to be two very attractive and interesting brothers who had grown up in Kenya and Rhodesia and London, with an Italian father, who came from their far apart lives in Vancouver Canada and near Heathrow outside London, to walk the Camino together. Both are deeply involved in lives of service, one in care for the environment, the other in interfaith refuge work. The older brother said that walking the Camino had persuaded him that walking may be an essential aspect of being human, going way back to the early hominids who walked out of Africa. 

River had to admit that Chris' style in that situation was very fruitful.  And by the way we really enjoyed our hot. chocolate and churros. 

After yet another brief nap we set out for dinner remembering that on a Sunday evening this might be a real challenge. After a few missteps Chris led us to the very restaurant she remembered loving when we were in Santiago also on a Sunday four years ago (for our future reference: Bierza, Rua a Troia, 10). Even River, when we stepped into the small dining room with only three tables, had a Proustian moment of sensory recognition. Photo 4 shows our view out the window, photo 5 shows our table (and two of the three huge platters of food, which was superb as well as plentiful.) With time and a bottle of wine we managed to eat it all. And not too surprisingly to sleep very well afterwards. 

 

 

Day 26, May 21. FIFTH (and final) day of rest in Muxia

Day 26. Saturday, May 21. Fifth and final day of rest in beautiful peaceful Muxia. 

"Let's do one day at a time, " Chris suggests (as we begin to catch up on our blog). What a radical suggestion!

We had our fifth and final breakfast at Marina. We were touched when the waitress caught our eye from behind the counter and said "Como siempre? (As usual?)" We had become regulars, routinely ordering the breakfast special with our cafe Americano (espresso with agua caliente), fresh orange juice, and toast with butter. (River brought along a banana and yogurt from the mercado. )

Photo one shows Chris with our "Como siempre" breakfast. 

 

We took a last stroll to the little church along the beautiful coastline.  And then River had a brisk walk alone, with interludes of beach combing for shells for sister Judy's beach garden and looking for four-leaf clovers along the mountain trail of the Camino that begins the alternate directly back to Santiago (not via Finisterre) from Muxia. 

The tiny delicate beautiful shells felt like a metaphor for the moments of joy on the Camino (River was still echoing with what we had written about our second Camino as a metaphor for domestic love: the moments of joy more rare, and made all the more precious by their scarcity, and thinking how fragility and smallness too are a kind of scarcity than makes things precious).  

Searching for four-leaf clovers was also richly reflective. River had found a four-leaf clover early in our Camino (which she tucked into her passport for safe keeping but unfortunately lost). She thought how meaningful it would be to find another symbol of the rare and the lucky now at the end of the Camino. On the other hand, the longer she searched without finding the more she realized what a rare random event a four-leaf clover is. She reflected on the fact that finding it was a moment of rare luck, that searching was a way of cultivating faith and hope for such rare events. In some ways it didn't matter if one found it or not as long as one went on searching. And it didn't matter if one lost it or not, it was the searching and the moment of finding that mattered. A rich reflection which like walking the Camino combined body movement with reflection in a way that creates a unique and rich sense of being fully present in the moment. 

By the time River returned from her walk just two hours later the tide had changed so much she could no longer walk along the sand beach. Photos 2 and 3 show the beach at the beginning and end of her walk. 

 

 

Although we had thoroughly enjoyed our breakfasts and our afternoon beers with tapas, we had been almost uniformly disappointed with our suppers in Muxia. So for this last day we decided to treat ourselves to an early afternoon dinner at one of Muxia's two more elegant restaurants. 

Not quite knowing what we were getting ourselves into, we ordered Carne a la Piedra por dos. We were a little taken aback when the thinly sliced filet mignon arrived,  and we realized we were supposed to cook it ourselves. But we soon discovered how easy and fun cooking on our "stone" was, and how it allowed us to have each of our portions warm and perfectly cooked (rare for River, and medium rare for Chris). Photo 4 shows us with the newly arrived generous and slightly daunting platter of steak. 

 

What a delicious meal. It didn't hurt that we also shared a really fine bottle of wine. Just as we were almost done, two women from another table approached us, curious whether we were really the fabled River and Chris they had heard about on the Camino. They pulled up chairs and we shared a lively conversation with these two women in their 70s, friends since their shared childhood in a small town in Wisconsin, who now lived one in Philadelphia and one on our neighboring San Juan Island. 

Just as we were about to leave the restaurant it began to pour -- really pour. Luckily we were only a few minutes away from our albergue. But it made us realize how lucky we had been on the Camino to have walked only through Orcas Island style drizzle, never real drenching rainstorms. 

The heavy downpour continued. And we realized we had no interest in venturing forth for supper. We went to the alburgue kitchen ready to settle for digestive biscuits and small packets of cheese, but looking enviously at the elaborate, delicious-smelling supper of pasta, cooked peppers and onions and mushrooms, bread and salad that other pilgrims had prepared. What a sweet surprise when they realized they had made more than they could eat, and asked if we could help with their leftovers. River's motto for the Camino is "Just say yes" -- we had a wonderful last meal in Muxia.  

Day 25, May 20, Part 2. 4th day of rest at Muxia.

Day 25, Friday, May 20.  Part 2. 4th day of rest at Muxia. 

Continued from Part 1. 

We have enjoyed our second albergue, Bela Muxia, and Chris has particularly appreciated some of the placards on the walls and their respect for the pre-Christian roots of the holy places here. We took photos of the parts in English to give you a sense of them. 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 25, May 20. Part 1. Our 4th day of rest in Muxia!

Day 25, Friday, May 20. Part 1. Our 4th day of pure, unadulterated rest in Muxia. 

After having decided yesterday not to walk to Finisterre, Chris woke up this morning deciding we didn't have to go to Finisterre at all. Everyday we fall a little bit more in love with Muxia and how sweet, beautiful and quiet it is. We have really come to appreciate this quiet time. We are going to have almost a week of reflection, and we find that our experience of this Camino deepens everyday as we let it age (or as Quakers say, season) inside us, without any pressure to rush on to our next destination or project. River says if she ever walks the Camino again she will try to plan a week of quiet reflection at the end. 

We spent a good part of our day in the company of Dr. Rob (who as it turns out is from Nashville) and his daughter Katie (from Seattle) and their Camino friend Marcus (from  Munich) who were all on the last day of their Camino. They left by bus for Santiago this afternoon. We really enjoyed getting to know them and in fact fell a little in love with them the way we so often did on our first Camino. It gave us a really sense that this rest stage is part of the Camino. The conversation was wonderful: about therapy and its risks and uncertainties, Greek mythology, life choices, and family.  Dr. Rob is just two years younger than River and three years older than Chris' oldest son. Katie, a therapist specializing in EMDR and trauma treatment, is the oldest of 6 children -- she has four younger brothers and a youngest sister (like Chris' four boys followed by a girl). She is also mother of a 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. Marcus made a career with his own business in the aerospace industry -- he has sold his business and is walking the Camino to discover what will come next in his life. He has two preteen daughters. When young he had hoped to study but didn't have good enough grades to get into psychology in the very competitive German university system. He was remarkably well-read and informed on a broad range of subjects. Photo 1 shows our little band of five love-inebriated pilgrims just as we were about to separate. 

 

It was perhaps the sunniest day so far. We even got to sit around for the first time on t-shorts (which is what we mostly wore everyday in 2012). 

We again enjoyed our slow stroll out to the Church of the Virgin of the Boat. We searched in vain for the famous miraculous boat that was transformed into stone, although photo 2 shows a rock that vaguely resembles a sail. River was equally entranced by some tiny black polywog-like fish swimming in a tide pool in which the church was reflected (photo 3). And of course River can never resist the rocky coastline and the waves crashing enthusiastically against the rocks (photo 4). 

 

 

 

In the afternoon we strolled through (and beyond) town in the other direction, sharing a chocolate ice cream cone and loving the idiosyncratic details of this little town still very unspoiled by tourism. Photos 5 and 6 show such details. 

 

 

We ate supper at a funky little restaurant beside the marina in front of colored chalk rendition of a green-eyed octopus (photo 7). 

 

There has been at times an almost imperceptible shift in who is playing the leader in our relationship that we have both welcomed and blessed and been intrigued by.  This feels like one of the themes of our Camino. It reminds Chris of how Ovid ends the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Now they walk side by side though sometimes Eurydice takes the lead and sometimes Orpheus, but with no fear of ever again losing his Eurydice. 

So in some sense it feels like we are leading a kind of afterlife. Which reminds River of Linda Pastan's poem, An Early Afterlife. (The only online version we could find was embedded in an essay, but if you are willing to scroll down diligently to the fourth poem in the essay you can find and read it at;

http://4thapenglish2012.wikispaces.com/Linda+Pastan-Haas   )

In a way, the interruption of our Camino walk, the initial disappointment and the gradual acceptance and even enjoyment, provides a metaphor for both dying and retiring (though River technically retired 4 years ago, it will be when she finishes her PCT hike this summer that she begins to fully face retirement and what it might mean in her life). Our time in Muxia feels like practice for some of the big transitions ahead. 

To be continued

Day 24, May 19, part 2. Yet another day of rest in Muxia

Day 24, Thursday, May 19, part 2. 

Continued from part 1. 

So River went off on a walk to scout the first mile and a half of the Camino from Muxia to Finisterre. She found some beautiful beaches (photos 1 and 2) and an amazing big green lizard (photo 3). 

 

 

 

She also discovered via her various gps apps that there would be essentially no cafes or bars for the 10 mile walk to Lira (where they would sleep the first night), so she would have to plan provisions for three rest and re-fuel stops. 

Then she pointed out the big green lizard to two passing pilgrims (who turned out to be a father and daughter, Rob and Katie, from Seattle). As they walked into Muxia together,  she mentioned Chris's foot and Rob asked very intelligent questions and of course turned out to be a doctor. He said he'd be happy to look at Chris's foot and advise us whether more walking would be really dangerous. 

River left Rob and Katie at the municipal albergue and came "home" to discover that Chris had decided against walking. Though disappointed, Chris really thought it was the wise choice. River was both disappointed and relieved. 

Later Rob and Katie showed up at our albergue (the municipal was full as it turns out) in beds beside ours. Rob took a look at Chris' foot and supported her choice: though the symptoms could be tendonitis, they were also compatible with a stress fracture, and in that case it would be a mistake to put that kind of stress on the foot until it had time to repair and heal. 

Photo 4 shows Rob and Katie at the albergue. 

 

So now we are planning our ride to Finisterre -- choosing between leaving tomorrow afternoon and going by bus, or waiting until Saturday (when the buses won't be running) and taking a taxi. 

The other high drama of the day consisted of River's attempt to get her Spanish vodaphone SIM card for her iPhone (which would expire tomorrow) recharged. She asked the sweet man who administers the albergue and he sent her to the supermarket. The cashier at the supermarket was utterly perplexed, and had no idea where it could be recharged. She turned to the others in the line: they too had no idea. River thought she remembered the vodaphone salesperson saying she could recharge it easily, even in small towns, in banks or stores, so she went next to a bank. The banker too looked perplexed. Then he came out from behind his counter, grasped her elbow, guided her out the door and half a block down the street to a clothing store that did indeed have a poster that said SIM cards (from various providers) can be recargado  (recharged) here. Except the store was closed and would reopen at 5pm. So, after Chris and Riv had their afternoon stroll, they returned to the bank and found their way to the clothing store and -- voila -- River's card was recargado!