I've been putting writing in this blog off for a week now, and it's about time that I simply sat down and wrote something, anything, to keep my readership - though destined to decline in numbers now that I'm no longer on the Camino - in decent figures and happy. It's not as if there is nothing to write about in the last two weeks - quite the contrary, there has been a lot of travelling and sightseeing and thinking happening. To overview the time that passed since we left Morations:

We spent just over a week in Barcelona, managing to arrive even after a cancelled bus, half a night in a train station and hectic train trip (switching in Zaragoza and not knowing where to go) on the way. Barcelona was a lovely city, and we were fortunate enough to stay in the empty apartment of a friend of a friend's called Coral, who was moving to Granada but still had the flat. She also came up for two days before we left. It as relaxing and lovely, completely unstressed and yet still interesting. We slepts lots, saw all the sights, went to museums and walked along the beaches eating icecream. We also were fortunate enough to meet some friends from home in Australia, who proceeded to take us to very fancy restaurants on the beach and beautiful cafes in the city and were alltogether fabulous and very, very sweet. Ever since walking for ten days with Charlie, the word fabulous has become a part of my everyday vocabulary.

We managed to get to Germany without any trouble, arriving by plane in Bremen, exploring the city, then catching a train to Hannover and a bus to the suburb where my (step)aunt and her husband live with their two gorgeous two girls, six and three years old, who have latched on to me and won't let go. It's been a lazy few days here, and a cold few days as well, seeing as the temperatures have dropped to minus six or eight degrees and we're all staying inside as much as we can, amusing ourselves with food, crocheting and baby-sitting. I also managed to double my wardrobe for 120 Euros - not a hard feat seeing as I owned a grand total of three outfits, including the Camino gear. I don't quite know how long I'm going to be staying here now - I'm going to the airport in Köln with Ariel and may stay a day or two in that city, about a week from now. After that it's just me - I don't think I can go on living in the three-year-old's room for another few months, she's anxious enough to get it back already, but people seem to be making plans for me to stay longer as well. I suppose I'll just have to see how things turn out after Ariel leaves.

Other than that, I've been thinking and planning a bit, reminiscing a bit in the city I spent two years in, and researching the route from Le Puy to St Jean Pied-du-Port for September. Everyone has been asking about the Camino and if something, anything, has changed in perception or worldview, spirituality, religion, whatever it may be. Well, I began walking without a religion and I am still not religious, and I can't say I've gone through a massive, dramatic catharsis either. But yes, something has changed, and it's getting more apparent the further I am away from my Camino. There is something. It's not big, and it's not dramatic, and I can't even put my finger on exactly what it is. But the experience itself was great enough to leave something a little bit different. Just a little bit.

Speaking of the Camino, once again, a question that has only just been resolved a moment ago when I finally remembered to google it. Everywhere I went, I kept seeing the words 'Caminante, no hay camino' in places - graffitied on the slats of beds and walls, on signs while walking, everywhere. And I always wondered what it meant and where it came from, because my halfhearted translation of '... there is no way' didn't seem to do anything. It's from a poem by someone called Antonio Machado, and the whole quote goes like this and is translated thusly:

Caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar.
Traveller, there is no way. The way is made by walking.

And after the 800km of Camino I travelled, I cried reading it.

After five weeks of walking and close to eight hundred kilometers, leaving the Camino was tough.

When you're walking, all you have to worry about is what you'll eat for dinner that night, how much chocolate you have left in your stash and where the next albergue is. You know that whatever happens, you'll have a place to sleep, people around you who are doing the same thing you are, a way of communicating just by being a pilgrim that means you're generally understood. And you walk, you sleep and you eat. Life is simple and secure, and wonderful.

Leaving the Camino is a complete culture shock all over again. Trying to get out of Santiago over New Year and a weekend even more so. You don't realise when you're walking exactly how sheltered and safe everything is. No planning, no bus tickets, no accommodation that needs to be found a booked. Suddenly you have all those things and more if everything is closed due to a public holiday and a weekend, and you're thrown right into the deep end. We tried to get out of Santiago on two days, first to Finisterre, and then to Leon, only to have to stay another night because the trains and busses had already left for the day. We finally managed to get to Leon, the place we chose to flee to simply because we liked the city and knew there was a youth hostel, on the third day of trying-to-get-somewhere, on a six hour train trip that was quite an experience. From there we had two days to regroup and think of our attack strategies for the next few weeks until we fly out to Germany.

For now, we decided to return to Moratinos and Rebekah and Paddy, who have been wonderful enough to put up with us for the last two days and pick us up from the train station in Sahagun. I think I could deal with life here at the Peaceable Kingdom - I sleep a lot, help out around the house, go for long walks along the Camino and reminisce, and do other fun things like cleaning out the chicken coop with Ariel and Kim, another woman staying here for a while. She's one of those serene people, who found that after the Camino life just wasn't the same anymore and things had to be rethought. She sold her place in Florida and is now drifting a bit, hoping to volunteer as a hospitalera in some of the albergues, I think. Having such a lovely place to relax for a few days is great and just what I needed after the first few days of non-pilgrim travel. Tomorrow night we are catching the train back to Leon and from there a bus to Barcelona, where John (who jumped in just a day or two ago) arranged for us to live in a friend's flat there. That's what I call awesome luck and awesome friends. (Thanks, John.)

Today was a beautiful day, inside and outside. In the morning I revamped my blog with Kim's help - she's a graphic designer or something like that and showed me how to use photoshop to make custom headers and all that. Must get photoshop when I'm in Germany! The photo is of the Puente de Magdalen in Pamplona, one that I took myself, a very beautiful medieval bridge crossed by thousands of pilgrims every year. Later, we walked through the frozen fields with the dogs, Una (a scruffy-looking, one-legged pirate of a dog) and Tim (a more placid dog who demands attention from everyone), helped clean the little church here in Moratinos and were invited over for tea and Rascon de los Reyes (Christmas cake) mucked out the chicken coop and enjoyed the glorious sunshine with Murphy (the most gorgeous cat I've ever met apart from Sekhmet, my own!) curled up on my lap.

And that's actually all there is to report from this land! I'm planning on continuing to update the blog while I'm in Germany, as well as wherever I find myself along the way. I'd like to do some woofing in Italy like a friend from the bookshop in Australia did, and maybe in France as well. And then, I've decided (and already started researching) about my next Camino - I'd like to walk a longer route for two months or so before I have to head back to Australia, from say September through October and into November a little. I'm tossing up between the Le Puy route and the Arles route and Camino Aragones route which joins up with the Frances in Puente la Reina. What does everyone think? The Le Puy route is more populated and has more infrastructure, while the Arles route is quieter but also has less infrastructure. Will there be to many people on the Le Puy route in the Holy Year in September still?

Adios Amigos!