Hurtling along the carriageway, we resumed our 4km per hour pace, and set off again towards Sevilla. The day dragged along, every place along the road, closed at some earlier time, no need for their facilities. And we two, lost in their greater scheme of life. We rested many times on our way into the future, and by one o'clock we had finally had enough, even though we had covered only half the distance. We saw many dead snakes, and smelt often the rotting carcasses off deceaced animals, a very promising omen. We found a shady patch of trees and a concrete slab above an underpass, and set about sharing what was left of yesterdays picnic. Dry bread, slices of tomato and a little imagination and we soon dined on crisp sandwiches. Simple but effective. I tried to sleep a while, but soon became chilled by the wind, laying here in the shade, so we set of once more. Further along the road we rested again at the entrance to a Cortijo. A small holding, where the farmer was towing an implement across the fields. The birds were happilly following the harrow, having pickings at the open ground and what it offered. Life was easy here, except for us pilgrims who still had some distance to cover. As the day dragged ever on, we had an occasion to stop, for Qt and I needed to check our feet. The sores were getting more obvious. I was very close to flagging down a passing motorist, and going to the airport. Heat exhaustion was becoming an ever present threat. I remembered I had some chocolate, and Qt had no objections to stopping once more to share our last meagre provisions. Along most of this modern road was a drainage ditch. A vee shaped channel, designed to carry away huge amounts of surface water, god forbid ! This so shaped sluice was a great alternative to the otherwise dusty rocky ground and was surprisingly comfortable once in the shade of a few bushes.
We ate chocolate squares, nuts and the last of our water soon dried up.
"So what will you say to your friends about this ?" I asked.
"What exactly ?" Replied QT.
"Well, when you tell them, that you finally ended up in the gutter, eating leftovers. Won`t they think that you have become a vagrant ?" I Joked.....
Through humour I was trying to raise our spirits somewhat. I had to admit that I was begining to wonder, just how long I could keep her from worrying, the next few kilometres would be hell. Somehow we made it along to a venta, and found our refreshment. I was falling asleep as we sat drinking, and Qt sat silently watching me enjoy some snoozing.
Soon, she confessed her pains were begining to become too severe to continue walking. We still had some few kilometres to cover to the next town, our destination for the day. We were actually seated at a place that had rooms to rent, but neither of us wanted , not to reach the main town. At the finish I decided to ask the driver of a car who had stopped at the venta, if he would mind giving Qt a lift as far as the town ahead. He happily agreed, he would drop her at the entrance to the town of Vejer de la frontera. I however bloody mindedly carried on the last few kilometres, finishing my walk, relieved that Qt would have to suffer no more assault on her feet that day. I reached a sign that made my heart sink. The town was still apparently 5km away, despite my seeing it on the hill above me. Qt sent a text message to this affect too, warning me of the time I would need to allow to reach her. I was sure that the village was closer , so I asked a local outside a bar at the foot of the hill. Sure enough, if I went to the left a few metres there was a narrow road that wound its way up the hillside into the town. It wasn`t open to traffic, the way too twisty and steep for most vehicles. My weary legs had still to carry me to the top, but determination soon had me in the main plaza overlooking my huge final assault. With a desire to rest and the call of cold beer I covered the last stage of my journey in under 45 minutes. I found my companion and, was finally able to rest, never so glad to have arrived anywhere.
The small town of Vejer de la frontera, was absolutely devine. A cash point, accomodation with fantstic views, and food we had quite literally, almost died for. We were going to need some time to heal Qt`s blistered feet. She seemed relieved when I finally announced that I would not let her walk the 30km to Medina Sedonia, with her feet in this condition. Apart from tired limbs and a few aches, I was ready for more. We had to enquire about travel arrangements for Qt to arrive at the town I would walk to next, and she seemed to brighten, realising she would be spared such a journey, day three of our camino. I only hope that a way to encourage a more direct route could be promoted to cater for such a walk. But of course I was the pioneer of my own route here, few people would desire to add these few hundred kilometres to the already mamouth Camino. Maybe with some consultation with the relevant authorities, a way could be found to keep my route away from the main roads and pass through the scenic countryside of southern Andalucia, whilst still including the wonderful towns here.
And so, finally in bed, eyes closing, a committment to go on for me, a consideration for Qt and her feet, the final two, had become just one.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
THREE BECOME TWO
As they say, (whoever they are) "the best laid plans of mice and men".
We finally got to breakfast at about 8.45. and daylight had not yet fully opened our eyes. Being a rest stop for travellers along the national hyway, the hotel bar was home to the locals on their way to work, hence it was very busy. There appeared to be a few europeans in the bar, people who`s skin and hair colour gave away their own heritage. I happened to notice one young lady, who stood out amongst the others. I figured that she was a Swiss, German or Dutch woman. I caught her eye, as I noticed that she was sporting a rather fine pair of hiking shoes, walking trousers and top, and I found myself hoping that she too would prove to be a walker of the Way, in search of adventure. First nail in the coffin, no rucksack. Second, was when she left and climbed into a huge 4x4 jeep and took off into the hills. I have this affect on some women !
We noticed a rather bouyant fellow chatting to a lady at the next table, out on the front terrace. He quite clearly wasn't a Spaniard, though the lady, presumably his wife, did carry the look of Spanish eyes, and tanned skin. Striking up a conversation, was not at all what I had expected. He quickly launched into a self important rhetoric about this that and the other, and how wonderful his wife was, and how wise he was, sporting silver hair. He did look a bit like santa claus now I think about it. But if he had let his wife get a word in edgewise we would have seen for ourselves quite possibly what a nice lady she was. Intuitively I sensed that she was both a lovely lady, and incredibly patient and longsuffering wife. Good on you, Beverly ! The man who will remain nameless, (for I would not want to fan his ego, anymore than he has thusfar himself) finally stopped for a breath, and this was when I made our excuses to set off. We did actually have about 25km to walk that day. As I was preparing my bag for the journey, the wife informed me that her husband had gone to their car to fetch me a gift. She seemed a little embarrassed, as it made me wait further. I was hoping for a bag full of cash. What I got was a book with a brief apology about its`possible unsuitability as a gift for a walker. What an understatement !!!!!!
The bloody book, weighing in at about half a kilo, somehow found its way into my backpack. Shamefully I just couldn't tell him that I didn't want his gift. Anyone who has done any long treks surely know, that carrying anything that does not have more that two uses is of no use to you. For example, don't carry a 24 pack of beers if you only intend to drink 2 that day. Avoid bringing hair tongues and beauty products, its not a fashion parade. And Never. for the love of god, carry a book on how to drive within the law, in 16 european countries !!!!
The same said offending item is now decorating the inside of the first wheelie bin we came to. But let it be said, that I do owe a debt of gratitude to this person, still un-named, for the lesson it taught me, and the wisdom of saying , NO !
(Which I will apply on the very next occasion.)
We finally got to breakfast at about 8.45. and daylight had not yet fully opened our eyes. Being a rest stop for travellers along the national hyway, the hotel bar was home to the locals on their way to work, hence it was very busy. There appeared to be a few europeans in the bar, people who`s skin and hair colour gave away their own heritage. I happened to notice one young lady, who stood out amongst the others. I figured that she was a Swiss, German or Dutch woman. I caught her eye, as I noticed that she was sporting a rather fine pair of hiking shoes, walking trousers and top, and I found myself hoping that she too would prove to be a walker of the Way, in search of adventure. First nail in the coffin, no rucksack. Second, was when she left and climbed into a huge 4x4 jeep and took off into the hills. I have this affect on some women !
We noticed a rather bouyant fellow chatting to a lady at the next table, out on the front terrace. He quite clearly wasn't a Spaniard, though the lady, presumably his wife, did carry the look of Spanish eyes, and tanned skin. Striking up a conversation, was not at all what I had expected. He quickly launched into a self important rhetoric about this that and the other, and how wonderful his wife was, and how wise he was, sporting silver hair. He did look a bit like santa claus now I think about it. But if he had let his wife get a word in edgewise we would have seen for ourselves quite possibly what a nice lady she was. Intuitively I sensed that she was both a lovely lady, and incredibly patient and longsuffering wife. Good on you, Beverly ! The man who will remain nameless, (for I would not want to fan his ego, anymore than he has thusfar himself) finally stopped for a breath, and this was when I made our excuses to set off. We did actually have about 25km to walk that day. As I was preparing my bag for the journey, the wife informed me that her husband had gone to their car to fetch me a gift. She seemed a little embarrassed, as it made me wait further. I was hoping for a bag full of cash. What I got was a book with a brief apology about its`possible unsuitability as a gift for a walker. What an understatement !!!!!!
The bloody book, weighing in at about half a kilo, somehow found its way into my backpack. Shamefully I just couldn't tell him that I didn't want his gift. Anyone who has done any long treks surely know, that carrying anything that does not have more that two uses is of no use to you. For example, don't carry a 24 pack of beers if you only intend to drink 2 that day. Avoid bringing hair tongues and beauty products, its not a fashion parade. And Never. for the love of god, carry a book on how to drive within the law, in 16 european countries !!!!
The same said offending item is now decorating the inside of the first wheelie bin we came to. But let it be said, that I do owe a debt of gratitude to this person, still un-named, for the lesson it taught me, and the wisdom of saying , NO !
(Which I will apply on the very next occasion.)
UPDATE 1.
Hello to everyone. I am attempting to keep up with the writing which I feel is going very well, and the experiences are coming thick and fast. The problem however is coming with being able to type it on to the blog at a rate to keep you all constantly abreast of where I am. The story will appear as and when I have time to type. My fondest wishes to you all, may the love of the universe keep you safe as it has been for me.
Peaceful Warrior x
Peaceful Warrior x
Saturday, 18 September 2010
ROAD TO SEVILLA (cont 3)
So here we are, trudging !!!!
To trudge....... To walk slowly with heavy steps. To continue walking with weariness. To walk with great difficulty due to exhaution.
But, with joy in our hearts and some respect for our own shortcomings and misgivings, to keep us earthbound we forged ever on, the heat of the day rising, and our pace reducing.
By about 1 o`clock we decided, despite the coolness of the levanter that we needed to rest once more, for sustenance and a siesta. As a jovial and excited trio we sat and shared the treats each one had carried lovingly to the pavement. The makeshift table in the meagre surroundings of a deserted Venta. A rest stop, that had stopped giving rest to weary travellers some years ago, by the look of the weeds and Ivy growing everywhere. Broken windows, cars smashed from accidents, tow trucks that had long since been themselves used, to clear traumatized steel from the Andalucian hyways, sat whistling in the vehicle cemetry on windy ridge.
I was tired, Qt had begun the shine of blisters accumulating and Shai made us all laugh hysterically. I wandered off in search of something useful to hang our as yet still damp washing from the previous evening. On my return, an improvised ice-cream vending board in hand, I was pleased to hear that Shai had taken up the caring role of listening to Qt`s love woes. Not that I had grown tired of being the listening ear, But I felt sure that she could possibly gain from a further insight into the failings of our judgements, with regards to being in love. From the sounds of his kind and thoughtful words to her and his reasonings, he too had suffered, as we in fact all have at some point. For me, being in love is the most amazing joy anyone can ever experience or hope to recieve. Like wise it could also be the most destructive and painful experience too, being a confusing and traumatic low, even thoughts of killing ourselves were common in this scenario, when it hit rock bottom. One hell of a rollercoaster ride of emotion. That was what, ´Being in love`could do to normally sane people.
During the siesta period, Shai recieved an sms text message, from a young German woman he had met a few days earlier. He explained how very lovely she was and how much he had hoped to spend some more time with her, but surprised that she had messaged him. She had moved on with her own travels, but it seemed that she had returned to Tarifa. The few days they had spent sowing the seeds of friendship seemed for Shai to have come ripe for the harvest. Apparently she had invited him to meet for a coffee, upon her return from Cadiz. Shai was noticably glowing with a new kind of energy, above what he already displayed. I said that it was a pity that we were so far away now from Tarifa, well along the road to Santiago. He replied with a conviction that he would happily walk back the whole way, for the joy of spending just one more minute with her. I know that when we guys talk like this, that we are indelibly marked with the stirrings of real passion.
"So what will you do?" I asked already knowing the answer, and what his response would be.
The twinkle in his eyes, gave him away long before we said our goodbyes.
We waved him off, as he mounted a scooter, a local girl giving him a ride to far away bay.
"That`s the last we will see of him," said Qt, as my thoughts returned to the road ahead. She was possibly correct, but I am sure that we will see Shai again, but on a different camino. We never got to see him use his devil sticks that he carried, or see him turn the flower. I admire the way some travellers have mastered certain arts by the way of performing entertainment to people. Shai had begun my training that morning, after coffee, showing me the technique needed to be able to juggle lemons. I have always wanted to be able to juggle, but somehow never had the opportunity or teacher to train me. I hope that I will still be able to get the knack of it at some point. If not, then at least there will be plenty of juice to drink.
What I have noticed so far in this life, is that we all have a talent, something to share. Some of us use it to bad effect, unfortunately. But most of us are either too shy, or too affraid to use their given talent. I am a little sadenned that those with real talent, don´t become empowered to display their gift. But of course I do not judge them for it nor pity them. I accept that some people, want to be quiet unassuming souls. Me however, just try and shut me up !!!
The rest of the afternoon was spent, slowly advancing on one wind turbine farm after the next. Huge fields full of machines designed to harvest the wind energy that comes for free in such great quantities here. Sensibly we had rested during the hottest part of the day, yet at shortly after 4 pm, it was still incredibly warm, if not disguised by the breeze. Three had become two, as we strode mightily towards our destination of Tahivilla. The road seemed to go on forever, the tarmac hot beneath our feet, and I wished that there had been a more remote dust track to the village. None such exist at this time, so we made do with occasional stops in the shade of trees along the hyway, resting on the Armco. The road ahead was so straight, but it was consolation that with each footfall, we neared the rest point. Having no idea what we would find in the village, what services were available to weary pilgrims like us, we at first on arriving had to scout the village. It was little after siesta time and still no-one could be seen in the village. We found ourselves eventually in the village plaza. Qt commented on the prettiness of the place, the array of colour and greenery and the layout of the plaza. A bar on the plaza remained dormant and we desperately needed a drink. I got my tin cup out of the back pack and filled it for Qt, from the font in the centre of the plaza. I made a comment about the calcium in the cup as I refilled it. The non use of the tap, possibly had led to a build up. Qt went back to the tap, to either refil the cup or wash her face and hands, I cant remember which, as all of a sudden there was water spraying everywhere, covering Qt.
After I had stopped laughing, we soon realised it was in for the long haul, the basin below rapidly filling. These kind of fonts have a tap that is designed to close automatically after a short period, to save water. This one seemed to have other plans. I tried to cover the spout of the tap, hoping that the return pressure would close the valve. It actually had the reverse affect spraying from the tap head with more force, sending the water further across the plaza, me and Qt. Well at least the trees were getting a good watering. I quickly retrieved my pocket tools from the backpack, the pliers finally getting hold of the tap head and closing the flow eventually. We surveyed the once dry plaza, that looked like we had recently had a downpour, and still not a soul moved, besides us.
We finally arrived at the hotel that also doubled as a roadside rest area, no other type of accomodation seemed available. It was a really lovely place, clean and with comfy beds. The people were incredibly at ease with us as pilgrim warriors. I explained about Qt`s feet to the manageress, and she was very helpful in prescribing aloe vera for her blisters, saying that we could help ourselves to some from her garden, when the sun had gone down, as it would be too liquid at the present moment. Once we were ready to eat we found that the restaurant adjoining was closing, so we had to go back into the village plaza to find something to eat. Fortunately for us, the plaza de agua had dried, and no-one seemed to notice that we had been responsible for using up, almost the entire village water deposits. The bar served tapas and small plates of delicious local faire, but we soon realised that we needed an early night, if we were to be up bright and refreshed in the morning. An old gentleman in the bar however, had other ideas. He kept buying us drinks and remarking on how beautiful he thought Qt was. In fact if he`d been younger he would have been chasing her himself. Fortunately he was a harmless old gentleman who liked drink more than women.....
As we returned to the hotel, we were greeted by the hosts, bearing gift. Detailed maps and information on our onward journey for me and a carefully wrapped piece of aloe vera for Qt. Plenty of help in the administering of said remedy, and we were again surprised, at just how such lovely people seemed to just pop out of the woodwork, just as we needed them. A further evidence of how the universe conspires to provide for us, when we walk the camino. All it seems you needed to do was simply mention the Pilgrimage and people came along with help. We planned to be up at 7am to get the best out of the day, and with our first day and 25 km under our belts we slept as a pair of logs. A well earnt rest.
To trudge....... To walk slowly with heavy steps. To continue walking with weariness. To walk with great difficulty due to exhaution.
But, with joy in our hearts and some respect for our own shortcomings and misgivings, to keep us earthbound we forged ever on, the heat of the day rising, and our pace reducing.
By about 1 o`clock we decided, despite the coolness of the levanter that we needed to rest once more, for sustenance and a siesta. As a jovial and excited trio we sat and shared the treats each one had carried lovingly to the pavement. The makeshift table in the meagre surroundings of a deserted Venta. A rest stop, that had stopped giving rest to weary travellers some years ago, by the look of the weeds and Ivy growing everywhere. Broken windows, cars smashed from accidents, tow trucks that had long since been themselves used, to clear traumatized steel from the Andalucian hyways, sat whistling in the vehicle cemetry on windy ridge.
I was tired, Qt had begun the shine of blisters accumulating and Shai made us all laugh hysterically. I wandered off in search of something useful to hang our as yet still damp washing from the previous evening. On my return, an improvised ice-cream vending board in hand, I was pleased to hear that Shai had taken up the caring role of listening to Qt`s love woes. Not that I had grown tired of being the listening ear, But I felt sure that she could possibly gain from a further insight into the failings of our judgements, with regards to being in love. From the sounds of his kind and thoughtful words to her and his reasonings, he too had suffered, as we in fact all have at some point. For me, being in love is the most amazing joy anyone can ever experience or hope to recieve. Like wise it could also be the most destructive and painful experience too, being a confusing and traumatic low, even thoughts of killing ourselves were common in this scenario, when it hit rock bottom. One hell of a rollercoaster ride of emotion. That was what, ´Being in love`could do to normally sane people.
During the siesta period, Shai recieved an sms text message, from a young German woman he had met a few days earlier. He explained how very lovely she was and how much he had hoped to spend some more time with her, but surprised that she had messaged him. She had moved on with her own travels, but it seemed that she had returned to Tarifa. The few days they had spent sowing the seeds of friendship seemed for Shai to have come ripe for the harvest. Apparently she had invited him to meet for a coffee, upon her return from Cadiz. Shai was noticably glowing with a new kind of energy, above what he already displayed. I said that it was a pity that we were so far away now from Tarifa, well along the road to Santiago. He replied with a conviction that he would happily walk back the whole way, for the joy of spending just one more minute with her. I know that when we guys talk like this, that we are indelibly marked with the stirrings of real passion.
"So what will you do?" I asked already knowing the answer, and what his response would be.
The twinkle in his eyes, gave him away long before we said our goodbyes.
We waved him off, as he mounted a scooter, a local girl giving him a ride to far away bay.
"That`s the last we will see of him," said Qt, as my thoughts returned to the road ahead. She was possibly correct, but I am sure that we will see Shai again, but on a different camino. We never got to see him use his devil sticks that he carried, or see him turn the flower. I admire the way some travellers have mastered certain arts by the way of performing entertainment to people. Shai had begun my training that morning, after coffee, showing me the technique needed to be able to juggle lemons. I have always wanted to be able to juggle, but somehow never had the opportunity or teacher to train me. I hope that I will still be able to get the knack of it at some point. If not, then at least there will be plenty of juice to drink.
What I have noticed so far in this life, is that we all have a talent, something to share. Some of us use it to bad effect, unfortunately. But most of us are either too shy, or too affraid to use their given talent. I am a little sadenned that those with real talent, don´t become empowered to display their gift. But of course I do not judge them for it nor pity them. I accept that some people, want to be quiet unassuming souls. Me however, just try and shut me up !!!
The rest of the afternoon was spent, slowly advancing on one wind turbine farm after the next. Huge fields full of machines designed to harvest the wind energy that comes for free in such great quantities here. Sensibly we had rested during the hottest part of the day, yet at shortly after 4 pm, it was still incredibly warm, if not disguised by the breeze. Three had become two, as we strode mightily towards our destination of Tahivilla. The road seemed to go on forever, the tarmac hot beneath our feet, and I wished that there had been a more remote dust track to the village. None such exist at this time, so we made do with occasional stops in the shade of trees along the hyway, resting on the Armco. The road ahead was so straight, but it was consolation that with each footfall, we neared the rest point. Having no idea what we would find in the village, what services were available to weary pilgrims like us, we at first on arriving had to scout the village. It was little after siesta time and still no-one could be seen in the village. We found ourselves eventually in the village plaza. Qt commented on the prettiness of the place, the array of colour and greenery and the layout of the plaza. A bar on the plaza remained dormant and we desperately needed a drink. I got my tin cup out of the back pack and filled it for Qt, from the font in the centre of the plaza. I made a comment about the calcium in the cup as I refilled it. The non use of the tap, possibly had led to a build up. Qt went back to the tap, to either refil the cup or wash her face and hands, I cant remember which, as all of a sudden there was water spraying everywhere, covering Qt.
After I had stopped laughing, we soon realised it was in for the long haul, the basin below rapidly filling. These kind of fonts have a tap that is designed to close automatically after a short period, to save water. This one seemed to have other plans. I tried to cover the spout of the tap, hoping that the return pressure would close the valve. It actually had the reverse affect spraying from the tap head with more force, sending the water further across the plaza, me and Qt. Well at least the trees were getting a good watering. I quickly retrieved my pocket tools from the backpack, the pliers finally getting hold of the tap head and closing the flow eventually. We surveyed the once dry plaza, that looked like we had recently had a downpour, and still not a soul moved, besides us.
We finally arrived at the hotel that also doubled as a roadside rest area, no other type of accomodation seemed available. It was a really lovely place, clean and with comfy beds. The people were incredibly at ease with us as pilgrim warriors. I explained about Qt`s feet to the manageress, and she was very helpful in prescribing aloe vera for her blisters, saying that we could help ourselves to some from her garden, when the sun had gone down, as it would be too liquid at the present moment. Once we were ready to eat we found that the restaurant adjoining was closing, so we had to go back into the village plaza to find something to eat. Fortunately for us, the plaza de agua had dried, and no-one seemed to notice that we had been responsible for using up, almost the entire village water deposits. The bar served tapas and small plates of delicious local faire, but we soon realised that we needed an early night, if we were to be up bright and refreshed in the morning. An old gentleman in the bar however, had other ideas. He kept buying us drinks and remarking on how beautiful he thought Qt was. In fact if he`d been younger he would have been chasing her himself. Fortunately he was a harmless old gentleman who liked drink more than women.....
As we returned to the hotel, we were greeted by the hosts, bearing gift. Detailed maps and information on our onward journey for me and a carefully wrapped piece of aloe vera for Qt. Plenty of help in the administering of said remedy, and we were again surprised, at just how such lovely people seemed to just pop out of the woodwork, just as we needed them. A further evidence of how the universe conspires to provide for us, when we walk the camino. All it seems you needed to do was simply mention the Pilgrimage and people came along with help. We planned to be up at 7am to get the best out of the day, and with our first day and 25 km under our belts we slept as a pair of logs. A well earnt rest.
Friday, 17 September 2010
ROAD TO SEVILLA (cont 2)
I was eager to get a better understanding of the people who were now sharing with me, the "To be pioneered route" of the "Pequeno camino Andaluz".
I still know precious little about Qt my younger sister, our paths having crossed few times over her 21 years. I have enjoyed immeansly though the getting to know her these past few weeks.
Shai on the other hand, had a very different upbringing, to both Qt and I, and we entered into some very deep conversations about our personal views of some of the most contraversial subjects, I have yet discovered. Having been brought up as a Jew, in a world constantly under threat of missile attacks, shootings, suicide bombings and very bloody hatred, I was shocked to find that Shai could still have a sense of humour. His revelations about the way he understood the conflicts of the ´Middle east`, brought sadness to my heart. The Jews had been oppressed and victimised, submitted to some of the most evil conduct ever spurned upon another human being, (See Hollacaust) and here was a young man, disclosing his ever present reality, about how still his nation were being treated. Whilst I don´t declare any academic qualifications in ´Middle eastern conflicts`, nor world affairs in general, I do see with an open heart, the vile and despicable conduct of mankind presently, and in history.
Shai explained in some detail the kinds of daily exploits of the neighbouring Arabic tribes, factions, and governments. Very similar I noticed, to the way Pakistan seemed to pretend that the academies of terrorism were not conducted in thier backyard. It seemed that for some undeclared reason, except the supposed anhilation of the complete race of the Jews, that the Arabs would constantly taunt and provoke the retaliation of the Israeli armies.
Whilst realising there are always two sides to any story or argument, I had to agree that in one way, the little newly formed (in terms of history) state of Israel, did have to defend themselves, showing with force even, that they would not continually stand by and see their civilian towns rained upon by enemy missiles. We cannot in our western culture, say with equinamity, that we do not see any of this as pointless and pathetic, when we ourselves, throw so much public funds, into our own brand of terrorism. We manage to describe this as, ¨the defense of our boarders`, despite Britain, not having land boarders with either Afghanistan nor Iraq.
Investigating theological topics, Shai was fascinated to hear how we in our ´Christian cultures`, have such fear over the issues between God and the Devil. It came as a surprise to me also to hear, that they do not have quite the same feudal dilema about the sin of Adam, nor the relevance of Jesus being the son of god, and redeemer of mankind. I had to laugh though, as according to the widely accepted bible view, it was the Jews` who had Jesus put to death, executed by Pontius Pilate, the Roman govenor.
Shai told us that, whenever two Jews are gathered together, then three opinions exist.!!!
A Jewish father, whos son cam to him with his newfound desire to become, ´a Christian`, once prayed to God.
"God my son wants to become a Christian, what should I do?"
"Tell me about it !!!!" replied God.
And here was born my more accepting and open view, that the Jews can infact, laugh at their own shortcommings.
Of course whilst laughing at the comedy of our remarks, the miles flew by and we soon had need of rest and refreshments.Qt noticed a spot along the seafront, as we followed the western coast, so we made tracks to the green and lush oasis. I noticed that the cafe signs were not out and the gate was closed to our passage. We decided to drop our heavy burdens and camp out for a while. Not being one to miss out on my morning coffee, I took a brief stroll along the fenceline, to find the entrance to the complex, boasting such lush green trees.
My jaw almost hit the floor, met by the most wonderfully tranquil garden oasis. Sculptures with water flowing over them, a pool, lazy couches throughout the grounds, even winding log paths dissappearing further into the trees. I had died and gone to heaven for sure!! Making my way into the entrance vestibule of this hotel, I became further coerced to relax. Huge antique oak doors, wooden furniture from eons gone by, took me almost to another world, smelling the seasoned and treated timbers. At the desk, a pretty young lady begged of me my inquiry. It was simply that we could have a coffee. Of course, a passing traveller was welcome to use the cafeteria. She pointed me in the direction of the deeper reaches of the garden paradise, where all my dreams would come true. (Well, nearly all)
At once I ran hurriedly back to invite my travelling companions to take repast with me.
"What is it like ? " they asked quizzically.
"Well, if you could say that to be met by girls in hula skirts, and comforts beyond your wildest fantasy, then I would say it is as close to paradise as I have seen."
My hyperbole, a little extreme, but poetic lisence besides, it was the most incredible way to welcome my new travelling companions to the experiences beheld, walking to Santiago.
As we returned, they remarked in their own comprehension of my understatements as to the peace and relaxing surroundings we had entered.
At the Tres Mares, "Chillout hotel", close to Tarifa, we three pilgrims shared our first meal, breakfast, together with people who had clearly given an arm and a leg to be there. For a very modest contribution, we ate and drank ´til we were sated.
I had the pleasure of relaying our mission to Gloria, a pleasntly corteous waitress, who gave such a lovely welcome and attention. After thoroughly enjoying the experience, we made ready to leave, and I asked if I could have the business card for the hotel. I will be definately returning here at some point, to revisit these tranquil surroundings. Gloria directed us to the hotel reception once more, and I had the great pleasure to meet and converse with our real hostess. Claudia, a Swiss girl, who´s way was very much, that of a Peaceful Warriorette, did her level best to avail me of the business card, and further detailed information on our onward quest. Herself a follower of the "way",, the "Camino Frances", like myself, was well aware of the positive reactions felt by the bretheren of this centuries old pilgrimage. I apologied for my brief interuption of the running of the hotel, but she simply waved aside my concerns, as she gathered data as to places and distances we were yet to travel. I was so impressed, yet not surprised, the way another pilgrim, so quickly returned to, the giving to strangers, of their time and energies. Claudia seemed keen to know all about our plans, though I quickly explained, how few they really were. With a sincere wish from Gloria, for our success, a huge Camino Hug from our wondeful hostess Claudia, we set sail once more on the oceans of adventure, replete and content, and with a spring in our steps.
May the Universe bless these good people, is my daily prayer towards them...
I still know precious little about Qt my younger sister, our paths having crossed few times over her 21 years. I have enjoyed immeansly though the getting to know her these past few weeks.
Shai on the other hand, had a very different upbringing, to both Qt and I, and we entered into some very deep conversations about our personal views of some of the most contraversial subjects, I have yet discovered. Having been brought up as a Jew, in a world constantly under threat of missile attacks, shootings, suicide bombings and very bloody hatred, I was shocked to find that Shai could still have a sense of humour. His revelations about the way he understood the conflicts of the ´Middle east`, brought sadness to my heart. The Jews had been oppressed and victimised, submitted to some of the most evil conduct ever spurned upon another human being, (See Hollacaust) and here was a young man, disclosing his ever present reality, about how still his nation were being treated. Whilst I don´t declare any academic qualifications in ´Middle eastern conflicts`, nor world affairs in general, I do see with an open heart, the vile and despicable conduct of mankind presently, and in history.
Shai explained in some detail the kinds of daily exploits of the neighbouring Arabic tribes, factions, and governments. Very similar I noticed, to the way Pakistan seemed to pretend that the academies of terrorism were not conducted in thier backyard. It seemed that for some undeclared reason, except the supposed anhilation of the complete race of the Jews, that the Arabs would constantly taunt and provoke the retaliation of the Israeli armies.
Whilst realising there are always two sides to any story or argument, I had to agree that in one way, the little newly formed (in terms of history) state of Israel, did have to defend themselves, showing with force even, that they would not continually stand by and see their civilian towns rained upon by enemy missiles. We cannot in our western culture, say with equinamity, that we do not see any of this as pointless and pathetic, when we ourselves, throw so much public funds, into our own brand of terrorism. We manage to describe this as, ¨the defense of our boarders`, despite Britain, not having land boarders with either Afghanistan nor Iraq.
Investigating theological topics, Shai was fascinated to hear how we in our ´Christian cultures`, have such fear over the issues between God and the Devil. It came as a surprise to me also to hear, that they do not have quite the same feudal dilema about the sin of Adam, nor the relevance of Jesus being the son of god, and redeemer of mankind. I had to laugh though, as according to the widely accepted bible view, it was the Jews` who had Jesus put to death, executed by Pontius Pilate, the Roman govenor.
Shai told us that, whenever two Jews are gathered together, then three opinions exist.!!!
A Jewish father, whos son cam to him with his newfound desire to become, ´a Christian`, once prayed to God.
"God my son wants to become a Christian, what should I do?"
"Tell me about it !!!!" replied God.
And here was born my more accepting and open view, that the Jews can infact, laugh at their own shortcommings.
Of course whilst laughing at the comedy of our remarks, the miles flew by and we soon had need of rest and refreshments.Qt noticed a spot along the seafront, as we followed the western coast, so we made tracks to the green and lush oasis. I noticed that the cafe signs were not out and the gate was closed to our passage. We decided to drop our heavy burdens and camp out for a while. Not being one to miss out on my morning coffee, I took a brief stroll along the fenceline, to find the entrance to the complex, boasting such lush green trees.
My jaw almost hit the floor, met by the most wonderfully tranquil garden oasis. Sculptures with water flowing over them, a pool, lazy couches throughout the grounds, even winding log paths dissappearing further into the trees. I had died and gone to heaven for sure!! Making my way into the entrance vestibule of this hotel, I became further coerced to relax. Huge antique oak doors, wooden furniture from eons gone by, took me almost to another world, smelling the seasoned and treated timbers. At the desk, a pretty young lady begged of me my inquiry. It was simply that we could have a coffee. Of course, a passing traveller was welcome to use the cafeteria. She pointed me in the direction of the deeper reaches of the garden paradise, where all my dreams would come true. (Well, nearly all)
At once I ran hurriedly back to invite my travelling companions to take repast with me.
"What is it like ? " they asked quizzically.
"Well, if you could say that to be met by girls in hula skirts, and comforts beyond your wildest fantasy, then I would say it is as close to paradise as I have seen."
My hyperbole, a little extreme, but poetic lisence besides, it was the most incredible way to welcome my new travelling companions to the experiences beheld, walking to Santiago.
As we returned, they remarked in their own comprehension of my understatements as to the peace and relaxing surroundings we had entered.
I had the pleasure of relaying our mission to Gloria, a pleasntly corteous waitress, who gave such a lovely welcome and attention. After thoroughly enjoying the experience, we made ready to leave, and I asked if I could have the business card for the hotel. I will be definately returning here at some point, to revisit these tranquil surroundings. Gloria directed us to the hotel reception once more, and I had the great pleasure to meet and converse with our real hostess. Claudia, a Swiss girl, who´s way was very much, that of a Peaceful Warriorette, did her level best to avail me of the business card, and further detailed information on our onward quest. Herself a follower of the "way",, the "Camino Frances", like myself, was well aware of the positive reactions felt by the bretheren of this centuries old pilgrimage. I apologied for my brief interuption of the running of the hotel, but she simply waved aside my concerns, as she gathered data as to places and distances we were yet to travel. I was so impressed, yet not surprised, the way another pilgrim, so quickly returned to, the giving to strangers, of their time and energies. Claudia seemed keen to know all about our plans, though I quickly explained, how few they really were. With a sincere wish from Gloria, for our success, a huge Camino Hug from our wondeful hostess Claudia, we set sail once more on the oceans of adventure, replete and content, and with a spring in our steps.
May the Universe bless these good people, is my daily prayer towards them...
ROAD TO SEVILLE (cont)
During the previous afternoon, upon arriving by coach, from Marbella, QT and I had set off once housed in our hostel, looking for a laundry service, that would be cheaper than the extortionate 12 Euros charged at the residence we had chosen. Rooms were reasonable enough and the price was fair, but apparently no washing of clothes was one of their house rules. We discovered this, once we had already begun the task of handwashing. Well, never mind we thought.....
We visited the local supermarket and set about putting together a simple faire of cheese and ham sandwiches, with grapes and olives to compliment. Oh and the most gorgeously sweet and chocolatey profiteroles I have ever tasted. Maybe it was the sea air, possibly the expectation of a mega walk, but I ate with a passion, not seen for some time. Qt and I were contemplating an early night, in preperation for the early start, when in walked Shai.
The dining area was light and airey, but Shai brought more light to the waning evening.Qt later commented on having already spoken briefly with him, and her ´good feeling´about meeting him. He asked about our plans and told us of how he himself had just finished reading the book by Paulo Coelho about "The pilgrimage", that had been translated into Hebrew. He had found it most exciting and was keen to hear all about the love and brotherhood, shared in the ´way of santiago´, and we too, soon learned about his own travels from many places and the strange coincidences these past few months. Finally he asked if he could follow with us, until possibly Sevilla, on our journey. Well of course it is a free world and anyone can follow the way, but I told him of our plans to leave the following morning, so asked that he be ready by 7am, in the lobby of the hostal. He agreed, and Qt and I went off to sleep. We both agreed that we sensed a quiet and pleasant soul in Shai. Obviously he had been serious about his request, making arrangements for his other luggage to be collected by friends, and stored. He was up early, making coffee for us all, in the tiny kitchen, and here leaving the hostal, before the daylight had come, the three amigos were born.
Walking poles at the ready, Devil sticks for Shai, we set off on the first stage of our approximately 150 km walk to Sevilla. I later found out it is closer to 200 km, but we waved Tarifa, her festivities, her meeting of oceans and tremendous winds goodbye. Shai, a young man of mixed origins, austensibly viewed as a Jew because of his fathers´ line, was not the usual subject to be walking the ´Camino´to a Christian saint. He was however, keen and jubilant of spirit at joining our road to adventures new. As I also proffess no great faith as far as any religious conviction is concerned, Qt a recent convert to ´normalism´, then me, Qt, and Shai the Jew, made a rather odd trio to be on the road to Santiago.
There was however, to be a very enjoyable and open conversation take place, that helped raise both our spirits and our levels of humour. Shai had a nice temperament and high level of humour, able to laugh even at himself and the apparent clash of Ideology we shared. We were however so very happy to be listening to one another as we walked alomg the incredibly scenic coastline of western Andalucia and her mountains. Qt, so named by me, because she is a quiet thinker, and also very much a cutey, didn´t seem to falter, as we strode off into the new and exciting horizons.
We visited the local supermarket and set about putting together a simple faire of cheese and ham sandwiches, with grapes and olives to compliment. Oh and the most gorgeously sweet and chocolatey profiteroles I have ever tasted. Maybe it was the sea air, possibly the expectation of a mega walk, but I ate with a passion, not seen for some time. Qt and I were contemplating an early night, in preperation for the early start, when in walked Shai.
The dining area was light and airey, but Shai brought more light to the waning evening.Qt later commented on having already spoken briefly with him, and her ´good feeling´about meeting him. He asked about our plans and told us of how he himself had just finished reading the book by Paulo Coelho about "The pilgrimage", that had been translated into Hebrew. He had found it most exciting and was keen to hear all about the love and brotherhood, shared in the ´way of santiago´, and we too, soon learned about his own travels from many places and the strange coincidences these past few months. Finally he asked if he could follow with us, until possibly Sevilla, on our journey. Well of course it is a free world and anyone can follow the way, but I told him of our plans to leave the following morning, so asked that he be ready by 7am, in the lobby of the hostal. He agreed, and Qt and I went off to sleep. We both agreed that we sensed a quiet and pleasant soul in Shai. Obviously he had been serious about his request, making arrangements for his other luggage to be collected by friends, and stored. He was up early, making coffee for us all, in the tiny kitchen, and here leaving the hostal, before the daylight had come, the three amigos were born.
Walking poles at the ready, Devil sticks for Shai, we set off on the first stage of our approximately 150 km walk to Sevilla. I later found out it is closer to 200 km, but we waved Tarifa, her festivities, her meeting of oceans and tremendous winds goodbye. Shai, a young man of mixed origins, austensibly viewed as a Jew because of his fathers´ line, was not the usual subject to be walking the ´Camino´to a Christian saint. He was however, keen and jubilant of spirit at joining our road to adventures new. As I also proffess no great faith as far as any religious conviction is concerned, Qt a recent convert to ´normalism´, then me, Qt, and Shai the Jew, made a rather odd trio to be on the road to Santiago.
There was however, to be a very enjoyable and open conversation take place, that helped raise both our spirits and our levels of humour. Shai had a nice temperament and high level of humour, able to laugh even at himself and the apparent clash of Ideology we shared. We were however so very happy to be listening to one another as we walked alomg the incredibly scenic coastline of western Andalucia and her mountains. Qt, so named by me, because she is a quiet thinker, and also very much a cutey, didn´t seem to falter, as we strode off into the new and exciting horizons.
Monday, 13 September 2010
ROAD TO SEVILLA
With fiesta still resounding, we woke in darkness to the very joyful, yet drunken voices. They were singing and dancing in the street, oblivious to anyone sleeping, but sure, they were full of life.The towns folk of Tarifa had been waiting a whole year for their chance to relax, unwind and share with each other the joys of community and family togetherness. And here they were, giving voice at 6.30 in the morning, as Emma and I arose to begin our marathon trek to Sevilla and soon Santiago de Compostela.
Having already completed the walk from the French Pyrenes mountains into Spain and across the northern terrortories of several spainish regions of the ´camino frances´, I was well accustomed to the early rising of walkers. The routine was a safety measure as much as a pleasant choice then, the days soon get unbearably heated until siesta time shortly after midday. But today as we rose early to the merryment, very few were the pilgrims leaving Tarifa. Three to be precise. It would appear upon closer scrutiny that very few people had ever considered the walk to Sevilla, ahead of the beginning of the Via de la Plata (the silver route). Exactly why, is to be amoungst my investigations henceforth. It is a beautiful, if slightly dangerous road. The thrill for me, to be able to pioneer a new and seemingly unpopulated route, spurred me on, as I considered starting in Tarifa. Tarifa being the most southerly point of the whole of Europe, seemed like an idyllic beginning to our new Camino Andaluse. Of course there are to be found towns and villages as in other spainish regions, yet this first day and possibly the next few, will be sheer tests of will, covering large areas of land with little real respite and few watering holes. The occasional abandoned rest area the main attractions. This first day, the earth scorched with a hot summer, has been very parched, the morning greener, the afternoon very hard going.
Being one to live life as it arrives, I had made few plans of any kind. I did precious little research as to the route or accomodation that I would encounter, believing , as is my new custom, that the universe would assit me. As a test of my resolve, the universe has asked in return that I allow Emma, my little sister, to follow the journey and share the joy to be had. This also means the pain too as she now realises, sporting two blisters, one per heel and sore shoulders from the burden of a rucksack. "But to suffer as a Pilgrim, is ultamitely worth each small sacrifice" as one English poet wrote.
The wind crossing the straights of Gibralter were whipping at our heels and the sky unusually still dark, meant we could see little of north Africa, save for the lights of Tangiers away in the distance. Emma, to be known henceforth as QT, was a little retiscent to finally leave the hostal, I sensed. Possibly realising the huge challenge was finally beginning after everal days in relaxation and meditation on our journey to this point. Also excited to be leaving was Shai.
Having already completed the walk from the French Pyrenes mountains into Spain and across the northern terrortories of several spainish regions of the ´camino frances´, I was well accustomed to the early rising of walkers. The routine was a safety measure as much as a pleasant choice then, the days soon get unbearably heated until siesta time shortly after midday. But today as we rose early to the merryment, very few were the pilgrims leaving Tarifa. Three to be precise. It would appear upon closer scrutiny that very few people had ever considered the walk to Sevilla, ahead of the beginning of the Via de la Plata (the silver route). Exactly why, is to be amoungst my investigations henceforth. It is a beautiful, if slightly dangerous road. The thrill for me, to be able to pioneer a new and seemingly unpopulated route, spurred me on, as I considered starting in Tarifa. Tarifa being the most southerly point of the whole of Europe, seemed like an idyllic beginning to our new Camino Andaluse. Of course there are to be found towns and villages as in other spainish regions, yet this first day and possibly the next few, will be sheer tests of will, covering large areas of land with little real respite and few watering holes. The occasional abandoned rest area the main attractions. This first day, the earth scorched with a hot summer, has been very parched, the morning greener, the afternoon very hard going.
Being one to live life as it arrives, I had made few plans of any kind. I did precious little research as to the route or accomodation that I would encounter, believing , as is my new custom, that the universe would assit me. As a test of my resolve, the universe has asked in return that I allow Emma, my little sister, to follow the journey and share the joy to be had. This also means the pain too as she now realises, sporting two blisters, one per heel and sore shoulders from the burden of a rucksack. "But to suffer as a Pilgrim, is ultamitely worth each small sacrifice" as one English poet wrote.
The wind crossing the straights of Gibralter were whipping at our heels and the sky unusually still dark, meant we could see little of north Africa, save for the lights of Tangiers away in the distance. Emma, to be known henceforth as QT, was a little retiscent to finally leave the hostal, I sensed. Possibly realising the huge challenge was finally beginning after everal days in relaxation and meditation on our journey to this point. Also excited to be leaving was Shai.
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