Tag: pilgrim

The Pilgrim’s Life: Part One

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Le Puy

Leaving for Amsterdam today and the start of my next pilgrim adventure: Le Chemin De Puy. This will be a 740Kilomter trek from Le Puy En Velay to Saint Jean de Port, a beautiful town on the French side of the Pyrenees.

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St Jean Pied de Port

Before I get into it I thought that I would introduce readers to the Pilgrim Life. Here is part one:

Qu'est ce qu'un pélerin

Qu'est ce qu'un pélerinQu'est ce qu'un pélerin

 

¡ACTORES DE EUROPA! : Le Pèlerin

A Pilgrim’s Life

¡ACTORES DE EUROPA! : Le Pèlerin

Pilgrims can be anybody. They come from all occupations. Judges; retired Naval Officers; mad French mathematicians; flying Dutchmen; crazy Germans; and others. Pilgrims show up en masse at Pilgrim starting places like Vezelay France or St Jean Pied de Port. Pilgrims are not allowed to swear; they are not allowed to have money, although most of them arrive via first class air or high-speed trains. No, no, no. Pilgrims can only suffer.

Because Pilgrims have no money, they have no alarm clocks with them. No matter, as most Pilgrim hostels are beside churches. And churches have church bells that go off at 6 am every morning. Precise. It is God’s clock, so they must be. The first time I experienced this it was frightening. You see, I had broken the second and third major Pilgrim rule in that I was having fun the night before at a singsong with some wine. You see, Pilgrims are not allowed to have fun (2nd rule) nor are they allowed to drink (3rd rule). No, Pilgrims are only allowed to suffer. So, you can imagine how distraught I was when those bells went off. I jumped out of bed and thought my head was exploding. Alas it was only the bells and not my head. Then again, a severe red wine hangover would fit right in with the Pilgrim’s code of conduct…major pain.

At that moment all the Pilgrims have one thing on their mind…toilet. And you thought those walking sticks were for walking. No, no, no. They are for fending off the other pilgrims while running to the toilet to be the first one in there.

Then the Pilgrim goes and has breakfast. Gruel because the 4 the rule of a Pilgrim is that you cannot enjoy food. You must suffer so our gruel has the texture and look of Metamucil, or…well, you get the disgusting picture. After gruel and cold stale coffee, the Pilgrim has a choice. He can start his daily walking grind or he / she can attend Pilgrim classes. There is: “How to be a Pilgrim 101;” Lessons in Self Flagellation;” The Pilgrim’s Handshake” and of course one of my favourites in “How to meet and greet other Pilgrims – the secret code word.” And for this one time only I am going to tell you what it is:” Buen Compestele.” But if you forget it, you can always say: “Pass the Pasta.” That will work as well. Which reminds me of the Pilgrim cookbook – an absolute must for the proper, discerning Pilgrim – “100 ways to cook pasta” also known as, and I love this part, “Pasta and the Pilgrim’s Life.” I know, I know, a real classic best seller.

So, what does a Pilgrim wear. Anything really. Modern or traditional. The traditional Pilgrims have those earth tone-coloured robes made of homespun wool. Itchy as hell…ooops sorry for swearing…They have these long hemp belts for a tight- or loose-fitting fit. Now you never want to be behind one of these pilgrims as they tend to roll up the hems to their waist as they are going up a steep hill such that…like a true Scott…their bare asses are staring right back at you. Not a pretty site. Oh, and those long hemp belts? Well, one tine I saw one of these Pilgrims cut a small piece of hemp and then roll it up in paper and smoke it. Bad, sacrilegious, blasphemy and a cardinal rule of the Pilgrim.  You must…. you must pass it around.

Off the Pilgrims go en masse: quickly, silently, aggressively with their tick, tick, tick walking sticks. Of course, in the minds of all the Pilgrims is to be the first Pilgrim at the first stop in order to get the best accommodations, and in that best of brotherly love and Pilgrim spirit…. screw you buddy, I am the first to go. So, in that raptured state of mind and spirit we fly away pumped and focused.

Tomorrow? Part Two

27 August: Lourdes to Roncesvalles Spain

What a day. No sleep last night. Tossed and turned all night. Probably worried about my train connection after my Dutch fiasco. No worries though as I made it fine. Except for the weather. Believe it or not it is 8 C here in Roncesvalles, high winds and pouring rain. In fact it has been raining now for 4 days. And it is a hard rain, and wet and cold.

“Come to Spain” they said.

“You will love it” they said.

“ I came, I saw and I am drenched….” I said.

I feel like this guy.

Lourdes was very nice. Beautiful in fact. But they do have homeless there. But they are more refined I think. Take this guy. He was hanging outside the train station. He was listening to some tunes on his iPhone and doing yoga. He was prepping himself before heading out to rip people off. Oh well.


The trip down from Lourdes was uneventful. When the sun did shine the countryside was beautiful. Green and very lush. Small towns and villages were nestled among the rolling hills of the Pyrenees. A beautiful part of  France. But somewhat affluent. In other areas of France buildings and houses appear dirty, old and tired. But not here. Clean and refined with a Spanish influence. This is also Basque country. Fiercely independent. Freedom signs dot the landscape on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees.

I arrived safely in Roncesvalles but very tired. I am sitting  in a cafe (bar) writing this. Spanish beer is very sweet. But good. I haven’t met a beer yet that wasn,t. And I need the carbs. That is my excuse anyway.

I bet you didn’t know that Roncesvalles has a storied past. When Charlemaigne came from Aachen Germany to kick moorish butt in Spain he promised the locals in Pamplona that he wouldn,t damage the ramparts. He lied. So the Spanish residents were angry and they attacked Charlamaigne,s rearguard when he was leaving Spain via the Ronceau pass. The locals attacked him at Roncesvalles. Charlies’s fav general, Roland, was killed and he is buried here. Check out the song of Roland. It is famous. Now all of this occurred in 778 ad. Interesting? You bet.

So I am here now with 280 other pilgrims. I am not sure I am going to like this. Too many people. And we all emit that green hueish aura that comes with being a pilgrim. Yes we stink. But when everyone stinks nobody stinks. Ah, the life of a pilgrim. Try it and come to Spain….I said.

Read ya tomorrow.

Shakeyjay is out.

 

 

 

 

Pilgrim’s Life

The Pilgrim’s Life…Part Tw0

Now the modern Pilgrim has all the right stuff: every electronic gadget known to man – gps, cell phone, adapters, solar chargers, radios, IPad, mini laptops, cords and plugs, aviator sun glasses, Columbia fleece vests, Tilley hats and all of the best. These guys and gals are normally gone by the end of the first week because the one thing they forgot to bring are blister bandages.

Off the Pilgrims go en masse: quickly, silently, aggressively with their tick, tick, tick walking sticks. Of course in the minds of all of the Pilgrims is to be the first Pilgrim at the first stop in order to get the best accommodations, and in that best brotherly love Pilgrim spirit….screw you buddy, I am first to go. So in that raptured state of mind and spirit we fly away pumped and focused.

In that best of Pilgrim state of mind we are to begin a spIritual existential (whatever that means) frame of consciousness. To discover one,s self, one,s sense on being, belonging, synchronicity with the universe. Okay, that about takes care of day one but what about the other 44 days. One can only think of one self for so long. I mean things can get boring pretty fast. Well, don,t fret because the “ The Pilgrim,s Life” has thought of everything. In a new book that has just come out called: “ The Pilgrim,s Guide to the Universe” at a special one time offer of 49 euros, you can have it all. Chapter 5 has a list of profound topics that every Pilgrim can use for those profound “ah ha” moments of enlightenment and self discovery. Topics such as:“ So Why Does the Sun Rise in the East and Set in the West? or  “ Is There Really a Man in the Moon?” or  “ Is the Moon Made of Green Cheese or Brie?” and then there is my own personal favourite: “ Why Do Our Eye-Brows Remain the Same Colour When Everything Else Turns Grey?” – topics that are sure to keep you engaged in thoughtful thoughts for your entire pilgrimage. All are very hot topics in today,s complicated unforgiving world.

As the Pilgrim hikes about the French o0r Spanish countryside he or she will face many challenges. How to stay entertained? Well, at one of the Pilgrim training sessions they tell you and show you how to imitate farm animals like cows, roosters, sheep and goats. This will keep you in laughter and those animals confused all of the time during your trek. A real hoot. But the dogs are another matter.  After a few days  Pilgrims begin to smell really, really bad. A slight green hue or aura begins to appear around each Pilgrim. The air around a herd of Pilgrims undulates like the air around hot asphalt. Dogs can sense this and can smell a Pilgrim from miles away. But this is nothing new to the villagers. Going back to the days of the Plague, they know that they must have sufficient warning to hide their children, close their shops and cafes and remain upwind. Their dogs act like pickets such that when a Pilgrim approaches a small town or village the dogs sense a Pilgrim,s prescence and start yelping and barking like dogs in heat. Thus the villagers have enough time to shut down the entire village. And that is why nothing is open when a pilgrim enters a small town, village or hamlet throughout the French countryside. All of the villagers are hiding upwind of the Pilgrim.

Alas, a Pilgrim,s life is a challenging, lonely and frustrating one. Only the chosen few are strong enought to survive the physical and psychological hurdles. But remain strong, positive and purchase the array of Pilgrim self help books and you can be a real life Pilgrim too.

Remember. Pilgrims are only allowed to suffer.

That,s me.. colour my world khaki.

And if you believe in what I have just said then you too are crazy enough to do a 900 km pilgrimage. I can help. Call me!

 

Day 35 and 36

No wifi yesterday. Two posts here. Al most into my last week so each walking day will have a dedication:

Day 35: Bourriot Bergonce to Neuf Fontaine

Today,s walk is dedicated to my wife Marijke, who passed away last December.

Neuf Fontaine means new fountains in English. I can’t wait to see these new fountains??? I think.

Given that I described the Pilgrim’s life over the past two posts, I’ll briefly describe the landscape we experienced over the past two days in two words……..ugly!

This area is called Lalond in Aquitaine. It used to be a huge swamp that was subsequently drained. The soil is of a rough textured, charcoal coloured consistency. Very flat and monotonous terrain. Hot and dusty. Our trail was a narrow pathway on ground that was sandy loam. Very difficult to walk in. Added to that we had the smidgens again, which I desribed a few days ago. With temperatures in the low 30s it made for a very hard slog.

It is like walking through sand dunes. We have had 2 days of this. Expecting a third. Yuck!

Forgot. Want to show you where we stayed in Bassanne:

Place is called Moulin de Piss, translated to piss in the Mill. No, not really, but there you have it a  restored 15th Century mill (Moulin). Don,t know what Piis is in English and I was afraid to ask.

Captieux was a small village, nothing open. Unbelievable that there was no wifi anywhere in that small village. People in Bourriot Bergance were very unfriendly. My walking companion, a European, was disgusted. He could not believe how anal the place was. I told him that these places would be bankrupt in two months in Canada. I am sorry but I just do not understand the mindset. It is as if, as customers, we are a huge burdon to their ”Riesta” routine.

Couple we stayed with in Bazas. Wonderful.

Now back to our regular programming.

One of the pleasures of this walk is the silence…deafeningly serene.

https://youtu.be/Tk3hLVoI4iM

Some of you have expressed concern about my well being and enjoyment of this journey after reading my posts about the Pilgrim,s life. I can assure you that those posts were done purely for the fun of it with my tongue firmly in my cheek.

 

Day 36: Neuf Fontaine to Mont Marsan

 

Today,s walk is dedicated to Joanne Daly. Another beautiful woman taken from us way too soon.

Ran into,or should I say, walked into two Dutch women today. One was quite elderly – the wicked witch of the west – and her younger cohort – the witch in training. Now I say this because they were some piece of work. My Dutch friends, Berry and my Limburg friends would be very proud of me for sticking up for Limburgers.

This woman was fron the north of the Netherlands. Exactly where I am not sure but she immediately gave us a bad impression. Remember a way back in post one or two and I mentioned that Dutch guy from North Holland who was such an asshole. Well this lady could have been his mother. I like to call her a lass-hole. She was religious, rightious and retentive in an anal sort of way. When the expression anal retentive came into being they must have been thinking of her. She didn,t at first know that my wife was from Limburg, the Netherlands or that I had visited the Netherlands many, many times and was intimately familiar with the Netherlands and Limburg. Here is what she said: Limburgers are a bunch of farmers who cannot properly speak the Dutch language. Nobody north of Eindhoven can understand a word Limburgers say. Limburgers are ignorant people who should be part of Belgium. Hag n slag, that chocolate delight for breakfast, is Limburg,s contribution to the world. She did,nt know what it was….and on and on she went.

She looked down on us as part of the unwashed. I told her that as a pilgrim she was part of the great unwashed herself and uncouth as well. When she walked into a French vilkage the dogs went wild. I told here that Limburg vlie (pie) was to die for and that being a Limburger meant a love of life. With her, life was suffrage, suffering. No fun, no joie de vivre. Just suffering. She probably passed out of Pilgrim school top of her class. Because to her being  a pilgrim meant real suffering, no fun.. Her favourite expression must have been “ grin and bear it.” Her favourite colour was black and after failing to walk on water it was her kind that invented the wooden shoes. What a piece of work. We parted company tout suite.

The walk itself was uneventful. We are getting closer to our destination. It will be bittersweet for me. Wanting to finish but not really wanting to end this wonderful experience.

Covered off 24 kilometers today. Overcast and cloudy, just like our Dutch female cohorts. Hopefully we will not see them again but somehow I doubt it. Like a bad cold these two will probably linger on. Oh, and she was always correcting me like an old school marm on steroids.

Need a positive song today.

Day 27: Perigeux to Chateau Puyferrat

Before I even get started today, you will not believe where I am staying tonight. In a real Chateau- Chateau Puyferrat – my destination. Check this out:

That,s my room in the tower. And the front entrance you may ask:

Those are my servants you see there. They are taking my rucksack up to my suite. They wouldn,t touch my shoes though. Radio active they said. I gave them the day off. Hey Marg!

Back to Perigeux. Our host last night was a Quebecois from Riviere de Loup. He told me that his ancestor was born in France in 1640 and came to Quebec from St Rochelle back in 1670. Obviously he never returned. So Michael decided to close the loop and return to France and to the very village where is ancestor was born and baptized. I forgot where it was. Full circle.  I told Michael that I was a Toronto Maple Leaf fan ( I am not ). That got him going.

There was also a young couple there. I would say they were recently married. They were doing the Camino in stages and were now about to go home to Paris after a weeks worth of walking. It seems that everyone I meet is going home.  Could it be my smelly socks. They are very keen on the Camino life and would love to open a Pilgrim,s Refuge. Good luck to them.

You know, there is a huge interest in doing the Camino. A world wide interest. Amazing. I had never heard of this until I talked to my friend at home.

I noticed from the hostel log book that Guy, the Anorexic Pilgrim, had stayed there the night before. That means he is now a day ahead of me. That also means he walked 41.kilomters. Unbelievble. You know, Guy is skin and bones and he looks like death itself. Totally unhealthy looking. I,ll never under#tand why people at our age feel they have to look like they are in their 20s and not their 60s or 70s. After all why did god invent suspenders? And if he wanted us to look like the walking dead he never would bave invented beer or…French cooking, or…..Orangina. Never.

The walk today started badly. I had to navigate though 4 major hills. By 9am I was soaked in sweat. I could wring out my hat,s perspiration. Awful. Two of the hills were so steep and the terrain so bad with strewn rocks, pebbles and loose soil I really was worried I was going to sprain or break an ankle. That would be the end of my Camino. Finally it flattened out for the back half and I arrived at my Chateau safe. – 25 kilometers later – but the last kilometer was straight up. By the time I arrived at my Camino I was beat. There was nothing my servants could do. I was not happy with the pilgrim gods. They are letting us down. I can still her Gill the mathematician model screaming to the heavens:

”Sacre Blue. You gods think you are so smart with us pilgrims. You are not. If you think you are so smart you come down here and you try to do this…you….you pilgrim gods you. Sacre Blue”

Or something like that. Gill cracked me up.

Oh yeah, here is the view from my bathroom, shower area:

Now this is what I would call a mushroom

All for today.

And for all those hills out there:

Rest in peace Tom Petty