Hi all, and sorry for the long, long gap between posts! For the last week almost we've been staying in Xunta hostels (since Sarria) and they had no internet and only once did Charlie find a wifi connection. I started typing this long post about everything from Christmas in Sarria to Palas de Rei, but then his computer downloaded  virus with a movie and went completely beserk, poor guy. He's had so much trouble fixing it.

But anyway, to kep things brief in the twenty minutes I have left: We spent the 23rd and the 24th of December in Sarria, had a massive Christmas Eve dinner complete with pumpkin soup, asparagus and smoked salmon, ratatouille and desserts of various kinds, and set out the next morning in glorious weather to reach Portomarin and the 100km to Santiago marker, where we took lots of photos! A couple are here, which the computer luckily saved before the virus hit.

There's me balancing like a tree... a slightly wonky an entirely unflexible tree due to me wearing too many clothes to do it properly.

There's me and Ariel posing with arms and legs (haha Jet, get it?)... yes, we went a bit nuts.

And there's my mud encrustd foot - I couldn't help this one because of all the speculation on the forum of Gareth's boots being so clean. Let no-one say that mine are!!! They even had mud on the inside. It was very, very muddy and there were creeks all along the camino. We had to detour across the fields at some points.

Yay for photos. The days between Sarria and Ribadiso (wonderful albergue there!) were a dream, with sunshine and lovely temperatures. After that... It poured. And poured and poured. The creeks rose a meter overnight, we got absolutely drenched, my sleeping bag got wet inside my pack, everything was wet. In Arca the dorm stank to high heaven because we all had our boots on the radiators inside to dry! Didn't really work that well. Going into Santiago was a little better, we had some really sunyn spots in between some heavy showers, and even a Rainbow getting into the old city! Very nice indeed. It's very strange, the last two days' walk, because there are so many eucalyptus trees everywhere. Made me feel like I was back in Australia... in some of the photos, you'd think I was!

Arriving in Santiago was a stange experience. In one way, completely relieving and wonderful and amazing, and in another quite sad, because the camino life and rhythm truly is amazing. That said, I'm very happy that now I can relax, put my feet up and just chill - my feet really were at the end yesterday after going to the pilgrim office (not a single person queuing!!!) and back to the albergue, 3km from the city center. (Grr.) They were soaked and the tendons were being really annoying and painful again. Did I say that I met a physio in Ponferrada who said that I had several inflamed tendons (something like that) which actually needed time not walking to get better? Well, that wasn't going to happen, so I just kept walking... as you do. Just walk it off, is my philosophy. But now I think I really do need to let them heal a bit before stressing them out again.

Some really good news from today at Frank and Ivar's travel center - the one box that did arrive had my down winter coat for Germany, my books (books!) and my favourite long skirt in it - yay for comforting home things! It brighteend up the whole albergue when I wore it. Luckily it's warm and I can! And I'm so glad my warm jacket was in there too - don't have to wear thirteen layers anymore now. Today was a bit sad too, though, because I had to say goodbye to a pilgrim I've become very close to after the mass at the cathedral (which was very elaborate, very spanish and had very nice choir music), who walked on to Negreira that day on the way to Finisterre. I think I'll have to go there by bus anyway after a few days here in Santiago - so maybe, just maybe, we'll see eachother one more time. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, that's all for now because I have to go and buy shoes. This camino experience has truly been an amazing one and I may even have picked up a few wisdoms along the way. I'm so, so very happy that I went through with it all! The last month has just gone by so quickly and amazingly, and the people I've met I will hold very close for a long time.

Adios!

I can't believe all you people in forty-degree heat. It seems as surreal as the whole snow thing probably still does to Ariel, though after a couple of days of it I think she's seen all there is to see. We've now seen and experienced the whole transformation - fresh snow to dangerous ice, back to more snow, and then to slush and creeks that have taken over the whole camino coming down into Triacastela today from the mountains. No matter really - our boots were already soaked from the rain, so a few ventures into 5cm rushing water from the melted snow made no difference, really.

The day's walk from Villafranca del Bierzo to Vega de Valcarce was one of the most amazing, wonderful and beautiful days on the whole camino so far. I don't miss the Meseta - especially not that 17km stretch of yellow road that just went on and on with no change whatsoever - in the slightest. I'd much rather climb up the mountain passes and tracks looking out over the Valcarce valley. It's magical. The first ascent was the steepest, probably making a 45 degree angle of ascent, but once it evened out a little to become just a gentle climb the first 500m were so, so worth it. There's something amazing about walking along mountain ridges. It's perfectly quiet when you stop and sit down on the path and look out over the valleys, so very quiet. I wonder if that was the same sort of quietness that Coleridge felt in the opening of his poem Frost at Midnight. It must be very close.

The albergue municipal at Vega that we stayed at was nice enough to have a heater in one of the small bedrooms, while the rest of the rooms, including the bathroom were as cold as it was outside. The kitchen was also out in the open, under the patio roof. While it's probably quite charming in summer, it was a bit of a test in winter, snow and ice and all. We huddled mainly in the heated room (which made it all the way up to 17 degrees) and I tried to spend as little time as possible outside and as much as possible inside!

Leaving the next day we were met with 30cm of fresh snow, at least on the tracks that we followed towards the end. We started out following the roads - the falling snow and fog were so thick we couldn't see 50m in front of us - up to La Faba, a hippie village if ever I saw one (the municipal albergue had a Ganesha holding up the sign and Indian motifs on the curtains on the inside of the closed door), from where we had to take the camino trail that ascended steeply for the last 4km. The snow had stopped falling, but was 30cm thick, and we followed mainly in Thomas' (the German pilgrim - he and Charlie were walking with us) footsteps. Don't know how he did it, walking in front. From Vega to O'Cebreiro the change in altitude is something like 800m, and takes about 8km. Those 8km took us four and a half hours of slogging uphill through snow.

Funnily enough, I felt brilliant while walking. It was only when we got the the albergue (heated, thank god!) that I started to feel the cold and the wet of walking in snow all day. In the evening I got the sniffles and today I have a proper cold - nothing serious, just sneezing and a runny nose. Took some Rhus Tox last night and this morning, mum, it's what you wrote down for colds brought on by exposure to wet and cold. Actually helped a lot, as I managed to get to sleep, so I'll have to take a bit more tonight. (Sorry for that digression, folks.) This morning the snow has also turned to slush, and all the rain that Galicia is meant to be famous for occurred all day. I'm surprised at how warm and dry I did manage to stay. Tomorrow we're heading to San Mamed del Camino, where the albergue has been described as 'a veritable haven of peace' by my guidebook. If that ahven turns out to have hot showers and heating, that's where we'll stay for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We'll venture into Sarria the morning of the 24th and find all sorts of food for our feast - I sent out messages to all our pilgrim friends telling them where we are planning on being, and that that should try and join us!

Anyway, that's all for now, seeing as I have to eat my pineapple and then go to bed, should try and get some sleep. (Once again there is a mattress that leaves a Jo-shaped hole in it! But no bother.) Taking the shorter, steeper route to Sarria tomorrow, not via Samos, I think I'll spare myself the extra 7km and take it easy.

Much love to all!

Yesterday's walking (I mean the route above, as I am typing this in the morning while waiting for Ariel to finish her breakfast) was wonderful. The snow was melting becase the sun was so warm and everything was blue and white and green, except for the pigs being roasted in the streets. We saw three in three different villages - must be a pre-christmas thing? At one point we sat down on a bench in the sun and didn't want to get up becase we were so warm!!

Which is more than I can saw about this morning, because I'm cold and it's -4 degrees outside and the heating isn't really that powerful (another run-down, friendly albergue with a great dinner last night). We actually had to change albergue, because the municipal albergue had no heating whatsoever, which is probably why the guidebook says it is only open until November... But here at least had hot showers, real hot showers (albeit in a freezing bathroom) that almost were too hot and so, so wonderful. My first hot shower in at least a week. The downside to winter walking is that the only time you're actually warm is while walking. Sonja, you really should consider waiting until April or May...

And that's why I'm off now! Walking keeps you warm. Heading to Ruitelan, the albergue has been reccommended, so we'll see how that goes.

I think something has gone wrong with my day count, because it's not matching up with the count in my journal... It says today is day 22, not day 23. Hmm. I don't have the time to fix it though, too much bother.

Today we are in Ponferrada, and the albergue finally is heated so that I am not freezing as I have been the last two days in Astorga! It's a bit of a leap, due to all sorts of things happening (well, just one or two things actually) which most of you already know about from the forum or from me telling you. In short - after walking all day in the ever-increasing snow to Astorga, we left the next morning, walked to the next village and were promptly told to go back (to Astorga) by the locals on the street (who were shovelling snow and literaly would not have let us pass) due to the amount of snow (gesturing a meter's depth) on the mountain up at Rabanal del Camino and Foncebadon. So we turned back and stayed another night in Astorga before catching a bus to Ponferrada today, seeing as the snow was still as thick and Ariel was actually feeling rather sick in the stomach and had a bad headache. She's been sleeping since we got to the albergue here - I think she's a bit better now. Tomorrow we will try ad walk to Villafranca del Bierzo and from there to O'Cebreiro and onwards in a few shorter days, following the roads if necessary. We'll see how we go.

This morning was a miserable affair, as I was feelig overwhelmed and upset by having to miss a stage on the Camino, this time not really by choice. Although some other pilgrims pushed on up the mountains in the snow, we chose not to on advice of the locals, which still didn't stop me from feeling like the worst pilgrim wuss in the world this morning, stopped by a bit of snow on the road. A test of the Camino and I had failed to overcome the obstacle for the first time. On top of that, my parcel of clothes went to the post office in Santiago instead of Ivar's Camino center and has now been sent back to Australia after not being collected in 16 days, which means I won't have clothes for a long time, probably not until I'm in Germany in February. As well as no ipod (which I was lookig forward to) and no other shoes and no warm down jacket and no jeans. The same for Ariel. But after talking to my mum and another pilgrim from Belgium (one of the only girl pilgrims I have met so far) I felt a little bit better. And back at the albergue, writing in my journal while Ariel was sleeping, I figured out some more things that made me feel better.

Excerpt from journal:
The marker in the courtyard of the albergue reads Satiago - 202km. I want to walk every one of those 202km now, because after a day of not-walking and those two days in Leon I already crave it and feel like a cheat, a non-pilgrim, without it. Tomorrow I will walk to illafranca del Bierzo, then Vega de Valcarce, then over the mountains through O'Cebreiro. I hope the weather allows it, ad if not I'll simply take the road; after all, I'm bound to get somewhere. The closer I get to Santiago the more I crave the walking, not just to get closer to the end of my camino but for the physical exertion (I feel weak and lethargic on rest days), the exhaustion, the sore feet and the wonderful, wonderful doing of the Camino. It is, after all, the Way.

I believe in the Camino now. I know that it is inside me and that everything is a part of it, the obstacles, the weather, the people, the landscapes, the delirium, the euphoria and the depression. I can understand it now: the bus, the snow, they aren't there for me to question my worth as a pilgrim, but to show me that I am a pilgrim. The snow is not a test of whether or not I can brave the cold and wet and slogging, but whether I can make the decision not to and still be a pilgrim. After all, this is my camino, and every decision I make will be the right one to make. Knowing and realising that makes all the difference.

And on some other news - despite the crappy marks, I still managed to get a ATAR (a percentile rank put together from final exam marks and used as cut-off points for university courses) of 96.15, which, looking back at the marks themselves, I'm rather surprised and quite happy with. It also means I can still get into my Arts/Laws double degree at the University of Queensland (which had a 96 cuttoff). Not quite the 98.95 I dreamt about... but not bad all the same. So yeah. No more having to think about school now!

That's all for today. Going out to the opening of the Christmas markets now, I love that sort of thing! Have to bundle up though... still pretty cold out there.

PS - Rebekah, I think I'll catch a bus and train back to Moratinos on Christmas Eve morning from wherever I am and spend Christmas with you and then go back the next day... Kidding. Would be nice though. Ah well... I'll just have to buy some baklava somewhere along the way.

Yesterday was one of those days that make the camino a pilgrimage and not simply a long-distance walk. I'm not going to go into details, because it's my thoughts and contemplations and they can't really be shared, but I worked some things out, thought some things through, contemplating the whole idea of why I was here, what I was doing and what I had achieved after almost three weeks and 500km of walking. I guess it was time for something to happen on an emotional-spiritual level. 

And today I'm happy. The sun is shining even though the temperatures are in the minuses and the streams have been encased in a good centimeter or more of ice, the albergue is decorated with pilgrim drawings, sketchs and quotes all over the walls in a wild, free, organic, creative mosaic of people and nationalities and lives (although the computer room isn't heated!), and we're cooking potato goulash together for dinner. I'm happy, really happy. Nothing can get me down today, because I'm completely and utterly at peace with everything: myself, the camino, the place of here.

After my contemplations (the teary part of them), I discovered at dinner that Attila had photos of the whole pilgrim poem that was written on the wall along the camino between Logroño and Najera - if you recall, the day where I was completely finished with the camino. As I walked past the wall I only managed to read a couple of sentences before I began to cry in frustration and pain and anger at the camino. Yet yesterday, the day in which I am confronted with questions of purpose and meaning and motivation, Attila shows me his photos and I find the whole poem in German (it was only written in German, Spanish and French). This is the way the camino works.

The poem in German:

Staub, Schlamm, Sonne und Regen
das ist der Weg nach Santiago.
Tausende von Pilgern
und mehr als tausend Jahr.


Wer ruft dich, Pilger?
Welch' geheime macht lockt dich an?
Weder ist es der Sternenhimmel,
noch sind es die grossen Kathedralen.


Weder die Tapferkeit Navarras,
noch der Rioja Wein.
Nicht die Meeresfruechte Galiziens
und auch nicht die Felder Kastiliens.


Pilger, wer ruft dich?
Welch' geheime macht lockt dich an?
Weder sind es die Leute unterwegs,
noch sind es die unendlichen Tradizionen.


Weder Kultur und Geschichte,
noch der Hahn Santo Domingos.
Nicht der Palast von Gaudi
und auch nicht das Schloss Ponferradas.


All'dies'sehe ich in Vorbeigehen,
und dies' zu sehen, ist Genuss;
doch die Stimme die mich ruft
fuehl ich viel tiefer in mir.


Die Kraft, die mich vorantreibt;
die Macht, die mich anlockt;
auch ich kann sie mir nicht erklaeren:
Dies kann allein nur Er dort oben!

My Translation:

Dust, mud, sun and rain,
that is the way to Santiago.
Thousands of pilgrims
and more than thousand year.

Who call you,pilgrim? 
What power calls you forwards?
It is not the starry sky,
nor the giant Cathedrals.

It's not the bravery of Navarra,
nor the wine of la Rioja,
not the seafood of Galicia,
and not the fields of Castilla.

Pilgrim, who calls you?
What power calls you forwards?
It is not the people travelling,
nor the unending traditions.

It is not culture or history,
nor the cockerel of Santo Domingo,
not the palace of Gaudi
or the castle of Ponferrada.

All this I see in passing,
and to see it, is bliss.
But the voice that calls me
comes from much deeper inside me.

The strength that pushes me onwards,
the power that calls me forwards,
even I cannot explain it - 
only He above can do that.

You know how people always say that it's the intention that counts? It's not. It's just doing it.

To answer the question for anyone out there reading this who actually follows things like distances to the places in this post; yes, we have turned into 50km a day girls. (It's a bit of an in-joke... We met this guy once, in Santo Domingo I think, who was walking 50km a day. He didn't talk to us though, spent all evening talking on his mobile and being sullen. I prefer our nice 20-30km days.) We managed to go from Carrion to Leon in three days! I am so proud: that's something like 150km. (?)

Kidding, of course. We prefer to actually enjoy ourselves while we're walking. But it has been an interesting, rather wonderful last few days. A bit sad, too, because tomorrow morning we are splitting up with Rachel, who has to leave for Madrid in the morning or around midday to fly back to Australia for Christmas (with a couple of days in Thailand). That's why we're here in Leon now, arrived yesterday and are spending the day here, window shopping, eating out, all that stuff.

Backtracking a little: We left Carrion quite early in the morning, surrounded by fog and mist (does anyone actually know the difference?) and in freezing temperatures. It was actually, literally freezing, because when we stopped for our 6km break, the stone benches and tables were crusted with ice and there were pools of frozen water on the tabletop. Talk about cold! That day was probably one of the craziest days; by the time we arrived in Moratinos, a tiny village with no albergue or even a bar, we were delirious. The distance itself was already 31km, and then we decided to go along the wrong road TWICE and added another three or four ks to the distance. To top it all off, 17km was along this dead straight, dead boring stretch of yellow road that had no breaks or change in landscape whatsoever. By the end of it, I was starting to understand why people are meant to go crazy between Burgos and Leon, especially people walking alone. We walked separate for stretches, but also talked and walked together, which made it a bit more bearable. Come to think of it though, the weather was so gorgeous and sunny all day that it also helped with the boring-ness of the camino. It just felt like a treadmill. A yellow, gravel treadmill.

It was a massive day, but the prospect of English-speaking accommodation in a house with actual beds and cooked food was too good to give up. I said before that there was no albergue in Moratinos, but when I started my blog I had a message from Rebekah Scott, who lives in Moratinos, telling me to stop by when I get that far. So I sent her a message in Carrion and asked if we could stay the night, and she said yes, and we had a wonderful evening (and a sleep in until half past 10!) with her and her husband Patrick in their home, which they named the Peacable Kingdom. And it truly was! We had real beds with real doonas and blankets and dinner and everything. Truly wonderful. (Thanks you, Rebekah!) After we finally got out of bed and had breakfast, we walked the remaining 10km to Sahagun and from there caught a train to Leon in the afternoon. An interesting experience - good, funny interesting. Let's just say St James, or something out there, is watching us and taking care of us.

Leon is wonderful. We got completely lost finding the albergue because we weren't actually coming from the camino, but the train station; it was dark by the time we finally found it. I think that day ended up being a 20km day after all. But the city and the cathedral are beautiful, and the shops are cool, so cool that I almost bought a pair of shoes. Anyone who knows me will know that if I am tempted to buy shoes (shoes in particular), the shops must be very, very special. I hate shoes. And waiting for us at the albergue was a surprise indeed - funnier than meeting Mario, looking like a faux, three decades to old gangster in his hoodie, in front of the cathedral - we reunited with (part of) our family! Standing at the other side of the kitchen was Sam, with this look of absolute amazement on his face, too scared to blink because we might have disappeared. "Give me a moment", he says, and continues to stare, which is when we all burst out laughing and there are hugs all around. And then, we are told that there is an Australian guy here too - and it turns out to be the Elusive Charlie! Which is also a bit of an in-joke, because everyone further back has been telling us about this Australian called Charlie, who has almost reached mythical status, hence the name and the capitalisation. He's a lovely guy - I have to laugh when I say he's "fabulous" because he says that all the time. British accent, goes on big rants about books and opera and all that sort of thing, gestures around wildly with his hands... you know. Cracks me up completely everytime. Now all we need is for Atilla (who is, I think, one day behind us and may turn up this afternoon?) to show up!

Funny story abotu Atilla: When he's asked where he's from, he says that he's a Hungarian (which leads to Ari's bad joke, Atilla the HUNgarian) with a Slovak passport living in Prague. (Mouthful, eh?) But you see, we've figured out his actual story. He's actually the son of Hungarian nobility, probably even royalty, who was exiled to Slovakia after political disputes and the assassination of his parents when he was young. However, the politics in Slovakia meant that he wasn't safe there either, so he was granted asylum with the royal family in Prague and lives there. But then he got so sick of all the luxury and riches that h decided to denounce his heritage and become a pilgrim, walking from Prague to Santiago through Le Puy and St Jean.

...

There actually is truth to that. Well, maybe not, but a basis. Atilla has to be the most humble, kind person all of us have ever met. He just radiates humbleness and compassion, bit like a saint, really. We think that when he reaches Santiago he will become one, and then we shall start a religion that follows Atilla's teachings, which are all good with no creepiness like other religions. Yep. It has been decreed.

Anyway, that's probably all for now, other than that I am going out shopping later to get another pair of new socks (I got some this morning and they are awesome, so I shall get another pair and get rid of one of my other socks), and I am going to find a small, light pot (I've been told that in Galicia, the albergues have kitchens, but no pots or utensils), a cup for tea or soup and a spoon and fork. And maybe a big, proper poncho, because the forecasts are (apparently) for sleet and snow from here on. It won't be too bad weight considered, because I am always amazed at how little I have in my pack, and how little I mind what weight I have! Compared to Charlie, who has a pack which is massive, something like 80L capacity and all full!

Oh, and an update on the foot and the bugs - the foot is getting better and I am limping around less, as are the bites. I'd wrapped my sleeping bag up tight a few days back and not used it since last night, where I stuck it in the dryer on hot and hopefully killed anything living in it (I have no new bites after sleeping in it, so all's good!) and washed all my clothes in Moratinos, where Rebekah lent me clothes to wear. So everything's great! The only thing I'm freaking out about now is my HSC results, which I can access tomorrow at 8pm, I worked out. At the beginning I was all "I want my results!" *pout*, but now I have other thoughts on that matter... *freaks* At least I'll be able to walk it off the next day!!!

Love to everyone reading this, especially to my family, in particular Sonja and Mum, who are both going to walk the camino in three years when Sonja finishes school, like me! Mum, you would have loved the pilgrim mass I went to last night. Nuns are so wonderful, and sing so angelically!

I just realised that that last post sounds horrible. But we are having a great time! Seriously, it's been amazing fun.

So I haven't updated in a while, partly because I haven't had internet and have stayed in some pretty shoddy-looking albergues (well, one, yesterday, in Fromista), and partly because I haven't felt like it the one day I did have internet. Don't know why, just felt like hanging around and not writing stuff.

Problems problems problems galore. Well, that makes it sound really bad, which isn't really tru because we've had some great fun walking and laughing and talking and taking funny photos on 'funny photo day' walking into Castrojeriz. We've stayed in Burgos, then Hontanas (we were going to stay in Hornillos del Camino, but the albergue only opened at 5:30pm and it was 1pm!), then Itero de la Vega, then Fromista, and now we are in Carrion de los Condes, where the albergue is run by the monastery of someone and the nuns are very nice. And the weather is beautiful! Really sunny, warm (around 10 degrees) and not windy anymore. And the walking is very easy, all flat, even though it does seem like you get no-where...

Anyway, problems. I'm sure you all want to know. Number one: I can put absolutely no weight on the front part of my right foot, nor flex it much or bend it. Hurts pretty bad. There's nothing to be seen, it all looks normal, but it hurts. But the blisters have all cleared up! And I peeled about three layers of skin off my little toes today where the blisters were, it was really cool how there was all nice skin underneath. That was quite fascinating. Ari was grossed out. I've been walking with painkillers and it seems to get better when I have been walking for a few kilometers. But not to worry, because we're going to have a big mid-camino break soon. Tomorrow we're going to go to Moratinos where we've (kinda) been invited to stay and from there we will walk a few ks into Sahagun and then catch a bus to Leon and chill there for a few days, because Rachel has to go back to Madrid and we're going to have some fun together in Leon before she has to go. We'll be just voer halfway then, so we're having a decent break.

Wow, halfway. Seems really little, actually, because it feels like I've been walking for years. Strange, huh?

Anyway, the other problem is that since staying in Itero de la Vega a night or two ago I've had a couple of bites on my hands and wrists and now I'm really paranoid about having caught bedbugs with my sleeping bag because I can't wash it and no-one speaks English at the moment and I don't know what to dooooooo. On the forum they all say to wash stuff really hot or freeze it but how can I wash my sleeping bag to get rid of them and I don't know how to go into a farmacia and ask for something to kill them and am paranoid about chemicals anyway and now that it's on my mind I keep getting really itchy all the time (but no bites anywhere except for hands) and I'm so scared of spreading them and feel guilty because I probably already have and everyone on the forums all 'you stupid pilgrims who don't do anything straight away and spread them to toher albergues!'

Anyway, now that that rants over I have to go and do some shopping, 'cos the shops are open again now. (It's 6pm now.)

Just a quick update today to let everyone know that I'm in Burgos, and everything is wonderful, except that the albergue doesn't have a real kitchen. But we went shopping for food and came back with three million bags and ate so much stuff that we now only have half of it left, which is a good thing because then we have less to carry tomorrow. I found non-baguette brown bread! And I have new chocolate! And peaches and apples and tuna and mandarins and biscuits and other necessities like bandaids. Even though today I walked 23km or something like that without needing any. My feet are back to normal almost, only today was very rocky and rugged so my ankles are sore from the (really) uneven ground.

Burgos is really beautiful; the cathedral and the architecture around the albergue is magnificent. We didn't spend all too much time exploring (me and Rachel, Ariel was sleeping), but managed to see some pretty things and the inside of the cathedral. Bought some postcards too, but it seems silly writing them because I'll just end up writing the same things as I write in this blog and by the time they arrive in Australia you'll know all about them. We'll see.

Highlight of today was reaching the top of the last mountain for about 10 days (meseta ahoy!). It was cold, very windy and very misty, and in front of us on the ground lay fifty or so concentric circles of stones, placed by pilgrims before us. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims. It was the most beautiful thing I have seen in the last few days, the combined work of so many people sharing a common purpose and adding a couple of stones to the rings. Like on top of the Alto de Perdon, I felt a really deep connection to all the pilgrims before me and after me. Magical.

I've got two minutes left on the net, so I'm leaving it at that! Love to you all.

Dinner in Santo Domingo after I wrote my last post was a wonderful affair. The mother of the hospitalera cooked dinner for us all, my little spanish family of all the uncles I never had: Alberto (Spain), Joao (Portugal), Sam (Rome), Attila (Prague) and Mario (Quebec). They're all so awesome and family-like and the only males other than family males and a few exceptions that I have really felt comfortable with. I guess you get that when you're staying in dormitories and eating dinner together and all that. Sadly we split up the next morning, as we decided to take it easy and only walk 12km to Villafranca de Montes Oca (spelling?), while everyone else pushed on another 16km to Ages, where I am tonight. So we're one day behind them all. But I'm sure that we're going to see them all somewhere along the camino... I just know we will.

Anyway, dinner was hilarious and delicious and everything. We had soup Castillano (which is made of garlic and bread and chorizo which I fed Rachel), bread, salad, tortilla patata (which seems to be a staple here - not that I'm complaining!) and all sorts of pastries and sweets for dessert. The Spanish mama (I don't know her name) was so great, we immediately adopted her although she didn't know any english. Alberto translated back and forth between us. So lovely to have a family and dinner together.

The next day's walk was short and extremely windy. We walked uphill most of the way, and the wind steadily increased the higher we got, until we were literally being blown around and stumbling towards Villafranca, where we met Sam and Joao (See, I knew we would meet them again...) briefly before getting into a long conversation (kind of) with this old Spanish man who loved the fact that we were pilgrims from Australia. There are a lot of little old men in the villages we pass through, and almost all of them stop to chatter away at us in really fast Spanish that we all have no hope of understanding. We usually manage to catch only the names of villages and a couple of phrases relating to where we have walked from and that sort of thing. It's much easier to understand bits and pieces of Spanish than speak it! He directed us all up to the hotel (called a luxury hotel in the guidebook... and I have to say it was pretty luxurious) on the hill, where we ended up staying for he night because their albergue was closed. We all had really long, hot baths and there was unlimited hot water, and real beds with real blankets and quilts and everything. We even slept in until about 8am, which is usually when we're about to leave the albergues in the morning. So good!

Rachel and I went out for dinner (Ariel stayed in the room and nibbled her stockpiled food and talk to her mum) in the local bar restaurant, which was a great experience, because being a Saturday night, the bar was packed with all these people from the village watching Madrid vs some other team playing soccer on the TV. The restaurant was in another room, but even from there we could hear the screaming and cheering every time someone scored. It's very different to Australian pubs and bars (the few I've been in), because when people are screaming and shouting in Australia they're usually pissed. Here they're just enthusiastic and it's really fun. We ordered the menu of the day (the waiter knew enough English to tell us what was what on the menu) and I had pasta, then a whole trout, head and all (which I obviously didn't eat - the head I mean), which was absolutely delicious, and chocolae pudding for dessert. And of course, free bread and wine and water and everything. I even drank half a glass of wine - see, Tommy? :p It was pretty fun - I think I'll probably eat out more often along the way. Not everywhere has a kitchen or a shop for food.

Today's walking was great again, even though it was raining and very windy again. We walked through woods for most of the day (which was short again, 16km), and then through some fields that reminded me of pictures of England. All misty and green and rugged and very, very pretty. Walking for the last couple of days has been quite nice, and today my feet were only a little bit sore and I felt great after getting to the albergue. Maybe I'm getting the hang of it all now. My blisters have also all healed, so my feet are more or less back to normal. Funny how you go from rock bottom to on top of everything in a few days.

Tomorrow we are continuing on to Burgos, which is about 20km away from this village. We're thinking of staying for two nights there and exploring the city on the second day before walking on and starting to cross the meseta, which stretches on for days and days with no mountains whatsoever. I felt like savouring the three mountains we tackled today, seeing as there won't be any for such a long time!

Ariel was reading my blog the other night and said that I was making her sound like a really mean and nasty person, so I'd just like to clarify (while she is reading voer my shoulder) that she isn't actually quite that bad. She's pretty great, actually, for someone crazy enough to walk this whole thing. She has a sore foot now too, so we're balancing eachother out with all our aches and pains. I guess that's the way it works here. So yeah. In short form, Ariel = good. Keep that in mind. Ok, and now I'm being told I have it wrong again, that she was actually wanting to stop when I didn't, except there was actually nowhere to stop (to stay) and she only wanted to stop for lunch and I just wanted to get there. But we know what we're on about so don't worry, things are good.

And that's all for now! Don't really have anything else to report at the moment, other than that I'm good and walking is good and sleeping is good and stretching out and doing some yoga on heated floors is very good. Although since beginning to walk I have lost all my flexibility I had in the last term of school. But I think my calf muscles have grown already. I swear they have. Ha.

I am in such I good mood I should be ashamed of myself.

No, seriously, I know that this sounds crzy, but I feel so brilliant. We had a shorter day today, walking only 21km, and I walked with almost no pain (I took some painkillers in the morning, but also, none of my blisters have gotten any worse. In fact, they're way better today!) and the weather was gorgeous and the walking fun even though we had a headwind all day and we talked a lot and ate chocolate croissants (I think any weight I lose will be gained again straight away!) and chocolate and water and juice and other things. Thank you all for your wonderful tips and advice and comments! I think whatever that hospitalero did last night worked miracles for my feet (or so Alberto - another pilgrim - thinks!) or something, because they are awesome. I have no bandaids on and am walking around the city and my feet are good. Ha. The rash is also better (it comes and goes), maybe it is just like a stress rash telling me I have walked too far (!), but I will probably get some antibiotic cream or something for it in case. Have to dig out my phrase book... again.

Also to add to that, Santo Domingo is a wonderful city and I think I want to move here. The main street has all the names of the towns on the camino carved into the tiles, and I bought a phone card and new bandaids and we found something like three supermarktets (most of the time we have trouble finding one) and free internet at this special camino center! It has a virtual camino tour that tells you a lot about the history and an exhibition about Santo Domingo's history and the famous myth about the town. It goes like this:

Some time in the middle ages, a couple and their son were walking to Santiago and decided to spend the night in Santo Domingo. There, the son attracted the attention of the innkeeper's daughter, but he rejected her advances. She was mad at him and hid a silver goblet in his bag, so the next day when she noticed it missing, the son was searched and arrested, then condemned to hang at the gallows. His mother and father were devastated and went to Santiago where they prayed for him. On their return, they found him still hanging there, and alive. He said that Santo Domingo had spared his life because he was innocent and kept him fed and alive in the time it took his parents to return. The parents went and appealed to the magistrate, and when they told their story to him he laughed and said 'your son is no more alive than the cockrel and hen I am about to eat.' At that moment, both chickens grew feathers and began to sing, alive. The magistrate of course was so amazed that he cut the son down at once and pardoned him. No one knows what happened to the girl, but I guess she didn't get off very lightly.

So now, when you go into the cathedral, there is a cockrel and a hen kept in a cage at one of the ends, and pilgrims go and bang a staff against the bottom of the cage in the hope of a white feather dropping from the cage, a symbol of good fortune on the way to Santiago. Also, if the cockrel crows when you enter the church, it's meant to be good luck. There are also chickens out the back of the albergue where we are staying tonight, and when we went out to do our laundry they crowed at us! I think I'll take that as a great sign from Santo Domingo.

Anyway, that's all for now, as I have to get back and make dinner before it gets too late! We get up pretty early, generally before 7am, so we like to go to sleep early too. Tomorrow there is a big medieval market here and we're going to stick around for a bit, see what happens. It all sounds really awesome.

Sorry to have worried you so much... This camino thing is a real emotional rollercoaster, it's worse than the whole last year of school. But I'm good today, really good. I guess that's all that matters.

Yes, if you look that up on a map you will find that the distance from Los Arcos to Logroño and from there to Najera is just over 60km. In two days.

Which is probably why I feel like I'm dying a very slow and painful death. So slow in fact that I'll end up not physically dying but having to live in some sort of hell on earth of feet so blistered and painful that I can hardly walk and leg muscles that won't even stop hurting when I'm lying down. And big rashes on my ankles, which still haven't gone away but have flared up again massively - so I'm not reacting to those socks after all. Maybe I'm allergic to the wool of my thick socks over my thin socks. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's painful and burns when I touch it.


Yesterday's walking was still ok, but today's was hellish. After about 10 minutes my feet hurt just as badly as they did after 30km the day before, and by the time we got here (Najera) I was one bawling, hurting mess walking in some sort of delirium and having no idea of where or why I was going. I really don't want to walk tomorrow. It hurts, I have blisters all over the place, and even after that wonderful foot and calf massage that the hospitalero (who is wonderful but only speaks Spanish) gave me upon seeing the state of my feet and my limping I can only hobble around in pain. And I'm so tired and dizzy and not feeling very great at all. I'm scared to take painkillers because then I won't be able to feel if something goes really wrong and I'm scared to walk because it hurts and every day is just a new test of how much pain you can be in and still walk. It's been a week now and nothing is getting easier, just harder every day. Worst of all, Ariel seems to have boundless energy, not a single problem with her feet or legs and not a single pain or ache or bruise anywhere. It's so not fair.

So anyway, tomorrow I shall try and hobble around town and find some new socks and then I shall probably be forced to walk another 20km to Santo Domingo de la Calzada and arrive in worse state than today and end up walking myself to death and never even finding out what I got for my HSC. Yes, I know it's overly dramatic, but it's seriously not fun right now and I have no idea why I started this whole thing in the first place, because I was obviously not aware of the pain outweighing the nice scenery. Of which I noticed just about nothing today, due to thick fog until about 12pm and after that the delirium.

Anyway, this is getting really ridiculous so I'm going to shut up now, eat some chocolate and go to sleep. Perhaps by miracle I will be able to get up and walk tomorrow.

YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TODAY.

It's a funny story about coincidence and perhaps even fate; an experience that perhaps has restored my faith in the camino.

It started off with me feeling slightly crummy in the morning. We were woken up at 6am (Ariel told me afterwards) by a group of men out on the street, ringing an obnoxiously loud bell in front of our window and then proceeding to sing in four part harmony. Then they walked off, and repeated the whole thing a hundred meters down the street. I think it may have been our pilgrim wake-up call, but could not recognise 'peregrino' in the lyrics (but I wasn't actually paying that much attention at this point.) It was all rather strange, but also amusing. We were then woken up at around 7:30am (yes, we slept in a little) by Bob Marley coming from the kitchen and dining room, which was actually rather pleasant, as Bob Marley is both Ari and my Sunday-morning-pancake-making music. We danced around a bit, scoffed down some biscuits and zwieback (which was breakfast) and headed off.

My feet started hurting immediately, and it went uphill for the first hour. Then, we reached the famous 'fuente del vino' at the Bodegas Irache. Sadly, Spanish pilgrim wine tastes just as terrible as every other wine. Nonetheless, I tried it. They have a webcam there, strangely enough. I suppose you could google it. After that it continued to go uphill... and then, after about another half hour, we felt raindrops on our face and pulled out the waterproof (but only for an hour) pants and everything else. It also hapened to be freezing this morning.

And then we realise - this isn't rain. Nuh uh. IT WAS SNOW. I am not kidding, it had started snow. The snowflakes were tiny, but it was snow. So we danced around for ten minutes and regretted that it was not snowing more.

Only sure enough, twenty minutes later, we were in a full blown wind and snow storm. Ok, not a real blizzard, but it was getting hard to see and the snowflakes were as big as 5 cent pieces, albeit still melting when in contact with the ground for more than twenty seconds. But within fifteen minutes of it, we were soaked and starting to get a bit cold. Then we managed to reach the village halfway along our route for the day... Only to discover that it wasn't Villamayor de Monjardin (which had a shop, which we needed because we had no food. It was sunday in Estella,) but another village. We'd unknowingly gone an alternative route, and this village was even smaller, had a closed bar, and no shop. We explored around a bit, hobbling most of the way and dripping, until we finally sought refuge in a bus shelter. We couldn't stop for long though, because we were beginning to freeze. We had just set off down this backstreet back tot he camino when we see a young couple, who yell out to us 'Los Arcos?' We reply 'si, si!' and next thing we know, we're hitching a ride into the town, well, village. But it at least has a shop. Muchas muchas gracias, Camino spirits!!!

So that's my little story of coincidence and fate. If we hadn't unknowingly taken that route, or hadn't ventured into that backstreet, or hadn't stopped in that bus shelter, we would have been walking and hobbling to Los Arcos, in the snow, for another 10km after the 12 we had just done, 6 of which were in the really cold and really windy and really snowy mountains.

And now we're in the Albergue Fuente de Casa de Austria (or something like that), which is wonderful. It's like an old spanish house with many corridors and rooms and a wonderful kitchen and living room with a fire and an Austrian hospitalero who has been washing and drying our clothes for us (you don't even get that in a hotel) and plenty of food to see us through the next day and tonight. And a USB port!!! I have photos uploading as we speak.

And that's it for now! My faith in the caminbo has been restored, especially as the blisters I drained and bandaided yesterday have not swollen again and are healing already. Tomorrow I hope they will be fine! I actually ran down the steps here in the albergue just then. What an accomplishment indeed!