first things first. had a lovely day hanging out at la pedrera checking out more gaudi-isms and getting into the exhibition of architectural models depicting all his works in the city. fascinating! this followed up by a trip to the beach to coooooooool it right down.
but the highlight of my day was dinner at enric and julia´s with j´s aussie friends moo and bink. we sat outside on the candlelit terrace surrounded by palm and lemon trees and sundry other varieties of wildlife, indulged in lively chatter and enjoyed a gorrrrgeous dinner of sardines and salads. no, we´re not talking the variety that you find swimming in preservatives in a can. these sardines were phhhhat, fleshy and fresh. yummmmm...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
collserol
swung by julia´s pad en route to the mountain range surrounding barcelona. we spent the day hiking around collserol national park. i hadn´t realized until we got there just how much i´d assimilated into my daily experience the hustle, bustle and noisy racket of the city. what a treat to the ears and eyes to uncover a little slice of peace and tranquility. throughout the day we saw few other people on the trails. how perfect! we thanked our lucky stars that julia picked up a map as the waymarkers were conspicuously absent.
toward the end of the day, we found ourselves standing before a squatter´s house on the edge of the park. to ensure we were on the right track, we asked directions of maria, one of the house´s 3 residents. so very welcoming, she invited us in for a visit where we took a load off and restored ourselves over the course of the next hour.
maria told us that the house is officially owned by a major builder who has all but abandoned it as it borders on two areas, therefore building permission would have to be approved through two separate administrations - a near impossibility in espana. thus, the residents have built themselves a little haven off the grid, decking the place out with a functional toilet, solar panel, water well and self-sufficient garden complete with requisite ganja. really quite remarkable.
as much as i admire what they have accomplished, the squalour in which they live quickly turned me off. evidently, this is a problem as they cannot generate enough electricity and water to effectively keep everything in a reasonable state of cleanliness. but more than this, there was no radio, tv or internet access. eeeeeeekkk!! their forms of entertainment consisted of visits from we strangers as well as their guitars. a cursory look around revealed no books. without some purpose to keep my mind occupied, i would get cabin fever pretty quickly and would go stir-crazy, nobility be damned!
maria graciously set us on the right path to sant cugat a mere 20 minutes away. there we found a gorgeous XVth century hermitage in the middle of a hip hop happnin´ village featuring high end shops and beautiful people. the juxtaposition of maria´s squat against this shoppers´heaven was truly striking.
toward the end of the day, we found ourselves standing before a squatter´s house on the edge of the park. to ensure we were on the right track, we asked directions of maria, one of the house´s 3 residents. so very welcoming, she invited us in for a visit where we took a load off and restored ourselves over the course of the next hour.
maria told us that the house is officially owned by a major builder who has all but abandoned it as it borders on two areas, therefore building permission would have to be approved through two separate administrations - a near impossibility in espana. thus, the residents have built themselves a little haven off the grid, decking the place out with a functional toilet, solar panel, water well and self-sufficient garden complete with requisite ganja. really quite remarkable.
as much as i admire what they have accomplished, the squalour in which they live quickly turned me off. evidently, this is a problem as they cannot generate enough electricity and water to effectively keep everything in a reasonable state of cleanliness. but more than this, there was no radio, tv or internet access. eeeeeeekkk!! their forms of entertainment consisted of visits from we strangers as well as their guitars. a cursory look around revealed no books. without some purpose to keep my mind occupied, i would get cabin fever pretty quickly and would go stir-crazy, nobility be damned!
maria graciously set us on the right path to sant cugat a mere 20 minutes away. there we found a gorgeous XVth century hermitage in the middle of a hip hop happnin´ village featuring high end shops and beautiful people. the juxtaposition of maria´s squat against this shoppers´heaven was truly striking.
balcons de barcelona
on a side of a building of the l´eixample district is a ´92 mural known as “balcons de barcelona”. using trompe-l'oeil as a technique, it conjures a group of outstanding personalities in the city´s vaired history. among these are included joan maragall, pompeu fabra, antoni gaudí, joan miró and pablo picasso.
Monday, July 28, 2008
art and more art
wayyyy hot a day, so i planned on spending time hanging with some a.c.
figuring i might as well absorb a little culture by osmosis, i headed over to puig i cadafalch´s caixaforum factory, now reformed into a gallery. there was an exhibit on display focusing on the medici´s artistic and cultural reign in tuscany from the 14th to 17th centuries. really fascinating.
on my way home, detoured to hit gaudi´s casa vicens. while originally built by ceramics magnate manuel vicens in 1888, gaudi was commissioned to transform it, a mission he evidently took to heart. while the interior maintained many of the original ceramic mosaics, the typical gaudi touches prevail both inside and out. if i didn´t know any better, i would´ve thought i was peering at a gingerbread house!
figuring i might as well absorb a little culture by osmosis, i headed over to puig i cadafalch´s caixaforum factory, now reformed into a gallery. there was an exhibit on display focusing on the medici´s artistic and cultural reign in tuscany from the 14th to 17th centuries. really fascinating.
on my way home, detoured to hit gaudi´s casa vicens. while originally built by ceramics magnate manuel vicens in 1888, gaudi was commissioned to transform it, a mission he evidently took to heart. while the interior maintained many of the original ceramic mosaics, the typical gaudi touches prevail both inside and out. if i didn´t know any better, i would´ve thought i was peering at a gingerbread house!
beach party
joined julia and a gaggle of her pals on the beach at dusk for a little hang time. while the beach was just as crowded in the evening as during the day, it was a completely different crowd. we met near the chix bar in view of the beach volleyball courts with the boys´ bar right next door proudly flying the rainbow flag high. the bars were cranking out some decent house tunes and people were dancing on the beach. samosa and beer vendors darted in between beach blankets and all of this madness with the sun setting over a vast expanse of crystal blue ocean. terrific!
also met one of julia´s friends, a sydney-sider who handed me the best quote: australia is the country with the greatest natural killing potential per square metre!t quote: australia
also met one of julia´s friends, a sydney-sider who handed me the best quote: australia is the country with the greatest natural killing potential per square metre!t quote: australia
Sunday, July 27, 2008
lunch at julia´s
visited the gorgeous hospital de sant pau again, another creation from the master domènech i montaner built between 1913 and 1930. as one of the principal examples of modernism, it occupies 9 city blocks in the heart of l´Eixample and hides many a surprise for repeat visits.
headed over to julia and enrique´s for lunch. hadn´t seen julia in nearly a year and it felt as though it was only yesterday when we´d parted ways. their digs could serve as the set for a pedro almodovar movie, so completely have they got the spanish feel down pat! they prepared a brilliant tuna lunch with the piece de resistance for dessert: santiago pie! impossible not to recognize it as it bears the trademark santiago emblem of a dagger. i was so excited, i could barely speak! we chased it down with some lovely dessert champagne and lively chatter.
somehow (go figure!) the conversation turned to hockey and it soon came out that enrique´s two sons had played hockey as kids and enrique was a big fan as well! he even pulled out his ref´s jersey and whistle as well as his sons´jerseys, hockey sticks and a puck. it was only by the grace of god that a spontaneous game of shinny didn´t erupt in the kitchen. however, we did pull out the cameras and snapped some priceless shots. great to break bread and bask in the delightful company of good friends.
headed over to julia and enrique´s for lunch. hadn´t seen julia in nearly a year and it felt as though it was only yesterday when we´d parted ways. their digs could serve as the set for a pedro almodovar movie, so completely have they got the spanish feel down pat! they prepared a brilliant tuna lunch with the piece de resistance for dessert: santiago pie! impossible not to recognize it as it bears the trademark santiago emblem of a dagger. i was so excited, i could barely speak! we chased it down with some lovely dessert champagne and lively chatter.
somehow (go figure!) the conversation turned to hockey and it soon came out that enrique´s two sons had played hockey as kids and enrique was a big fan as well! he even pulled out his ref´s jersey and whistle as well as his sons´jerseys, hockey sticks and a puck. it was only by the grace of god that a spontaneous game of shinny didn´t erupt in the kitchen. however, we did pull out the cameras and snapped some priceless shots. great to break bread and bask in the delightful company of good friends.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
hip hop at el teatre grec
set my sights on montjuic´s teatre grec last night as i´d heard there was going to be a hip hop dance competition. sadly, the tickets were sold out but i was able to catch most of the hip hop happnin´s from the ticket office where i camped out for a bit until they kicked me out. turns out it wasn´t hip hop dance after all, rather hip hop rhyming! their freestyling sounded dead-on but my spanish hasn´t improved to the point where i can catch that level of lingo at those breakneck speeds.
l´eixemple
as i write in my blog, i am being serenaded by my neighbour in her vocal scale practice. so very urban barcelona!
strolled around without any specific agenda today. wound my way around the l´eixemple district that just has to be the world-wide crown jewel of modernism. look here! and there! oh, and there too! i found everything from street lamps by pere falques to domènech i montaner and puig i cadafalch´s benches, balconies, façades and chimneys. of course, as usual all roads lead to gaudi and this ´hood was no different.
at the time when plans were being drawn for many of its buildings, catalunya was enjoying an economic boom driven by the industrial revolution of the XIXth century. consequently, tradesmen were a busy bunch. together, scuptures, mosaics, wrought iron, plaster, wood, glass and paintings converged to turn l´eixemple into a fantasia brimming with art even as its residents and workers still go about their daily business. brilliant!
gave the barcie version of the arc de triomf a good once-over. it was built in 1888 using the red brickwork that was popular in the moorish revival style of that era. at the pinnacle of the archway is sculpted barcie´s coat of arms while funky gargoyles stand guard over elaborate colourful mosaics. lining the avenue leading up to the archway are columns of fantastically elaborate art nouveau street lamps. gorgeous.
to mix it up a little, i headed into barcie´s gothic area and ambled about. some of the roman artifacts date back to the 2nd century a.d. ! if only the walls and alleys could talk...the stories they would tell. you could almost imagine yourself in the same ´hood, the clock turned back several centuries with a voice reverberating through the streets ¨bring out your dead¨!!
strolled around without any specific agenda today. wound my way around the l´eixemple district that just has to be the world-wide crown jewel of modernism. look here! and there! oh, and there too! i found everything from street lamps by pere falques to domènech i montaner and puig i cadafalch´s benches, balconies, façades and chimneys. of course, as usual all roads lead to gaudi and this ´hood was no different.
at the time when plans were being drawn for many of its buildings, catalunya was enjoying an economic boom driven by the industrial revolution of the XIXth century. consequently, tradesmen were a busy bunch. together, scuptures, mosaics, wrought iron, plaster, wood, glass and paintings converged to turn l´eixemple into a fantasia brimming with art even as its residents and workers still go about their daily business. brilliant!
gave the barcie version of the arc de triomf a good once-over. it was built in 1888 using the red brickwork that was popular in the moorish revival style of that era. at the pinnacle of the archway is sculpted barcie´s coat of arms while funky gargoyles stand guard over elaborate colourful mosaics. lining the avenue leading up to the archway are columns of fantastically elaborate art nouveau street lamps. gorgeous.
to mix it up a little, i headed into barcie´s gothic area and ambled about. some of the roman artifacts date back to the 2nd century a.d. ! if only the walls and alleys could talk...the stories they would tell. you could almost imagine yourself in the same ´hood, the clock turned back several centuries with a voice reverberating through the streets ¨bring out your dead¨!!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
crosstown extravaganza
my mission today was to walk diagonally from the very south eastern point of the city to its very north western point. since i got a bit of a taste of expanded horizons yesterday, i decided to continue on the same theme, stopping here and there to contemplate a few architects other my beloved gaudi.
saint pau hospital was a project of the architect lluis domenech i montaner that was completed in the year 1901 and consists of a whopping 27 pavillions. what a legacy, simply gorgeous. also stopped to pay my respects to salvador valeri i pupurull´s comalat house completed in 1911 and whose facade is all modernism and art nouveau. right across the street from puig i cadafalch´s palau de baró de quadras and not far from his delightful nordic-looking casa punxes completed in 1905.
but fear not, i came full circle to worship at the altar of the high priest gaudi upon reaching my destination. there, the güell pavillions stretched out before me in all their modernist gaudi-ness. breathtaking!
saint pau hospital was a project of the architect lluis domenech i montaner that was completed in the year 1901 and consists of a whopping 27 pavillions. what a legacy, simply gorgeous. also stopped to pay my respects to salvador valeri i pupurull´s comalat house completed in 1911 and whose facade is all modernism and art nouveau. right across the street from puig i cadafalch´s palau de baró de quadras and not far from his delightful nordic-looking casa punxes completed in 1905.
but fear not, i came full circle to worship at the altar of the high priest gaudi upon reaching my destination. there, the güell pavillions stretched out before me in all their modernist gaudi-ness. breathtaking!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
montjuic
if only for a blink of an eye, time to shift my obsessive adulation from one artist/medium to another: miro. headed over to the montjuic district, locale of many attractions but the main one in my mind being the miro foundation housing a handsome collection of his works. had a good long browse simply musing his paintings, tapestries and sculpture in various wings organized to visually depict his artistic evolution. fascinating.
montjuic is a smallish mountain which was selected to host the 1929 world´s fair. architectural remnants from this era include the national palace and its ornate fountains, the olympic stadium and numerous gardens everywhere. the olympic stadium was intended to host an anti-fascist alternative olympics in 1936 in protest against the 1936 berlin olympics but the spanish civil war forced a reprioritization that saw those plans forever shelved.
montjuic is a smallish mountain which was selected to host the 1929 world´s fair. architectural remnants from this era include the national palace and its ornate fountains, the olympic stadium and numerous gardens everywhere. the olympic stadium was intended to host an anti-fascist alternative olympics in 1936 in protest against the 1936 berlin olympics but the spanish civil war forced a reprioritization that saw those plans forever shelved.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
gaudi up the yin yang!
after scoring an umbrella at the beach, i figure it was a win on dual counts: sunburn avoidance and the bonus that my lily white chest didn´t prompt a coronary from any of the locals. purrrfect day for a swim, felt soooo good!
ambled over to the landmark statue of christopher columbus at the foot of la rambla, likely one of the city´s most vibrant streets. on its centre promenade, barcelonians and tourists can walk all the way down from plaza catalunya to the sea, surrounded by interesting markets and some of barcie´s most outstanding architecture. the place is literally bursting at the seams with life, bars, kiosks and street performers.
in plaza reial just off la rambla are lamp posts designed by master gaudi himself and in the central promenade of la rambla is a mosaic created by joan miro. el mercat st. josep - affectionately known as ¨la boqueria¨- occupies some prime real estate for the local foodies among us. of course no walking tour would be complete without its fair share of ancient palacios and ornate churches.
directly north of la rambla and plaza catalunya lies one of barcelona´s main avenues: passeig gracia. in 1906 the architect pere falqués i urpí designed its now famous ornate benches and street-lights in typical modernist fashion. by that time, the avenue had become barcie’s most fashionable street, with buildings designed by modernista/art nouveau architects of gaudí fame and others.
i paid hommage to master gaudi once again today with a visit to casa batlló. this theatrical whimsey was borne of a pre-existing home whose owner commissioned gaudi for a serious make-over. the facade is decorated in organic forms evoking bones, masks and precious stones while the roof conjures images of scaly dragons. i also notice that our master architect was a huge fan of fruit as many of his designs incorporate foliage and carmen miranda style cornucopias willy-nilly. simply fantastic!
also visited la casa calvet where gaudi took up the challenge of designing a building in the style typical of the industrial L´Eixample neighbourhood. regardless of some of the baroque touches and the grey stone of nearby montjuic, gaudi´s signature is everywhere.
continued my gaudi tour at la pedrera with its undulating trademark balconies. if i hadn´t known better, i would have thought i was suffering from heat stroke and my vision was wavering! on its roof is a veritable forest of chimneys adding fully to the effect of freakishness. the building is currently used for apartments. imagine living there!
finished off my homage by walking up gaudi avenue from the temple of sagrada familia. i cannot even fathom that level of genius...
ambled over to the landmark statue of christopher columbus at the foot of la rambla, likely one of the city´s most vibrant streets. on its centre promenade, barcelonians and tourists can walk all the way down from plaza catalunya to the sea, surrounded by interesting markets and some of barcie´s most outstanding architecture. the place is literally bursting at the seams with life, bars, kiosks and street performers.
in plaza reial just off la rambla are lamp posts designed by master gaudi himself and in the central promenade of la rambla is a mosaic created by joan miro. el mercat st. josep - affectionately known as ¨la boqueria¨- occupies some prime real estate for the local foodies among us. of course no walking tour would be complete without its fair share of ancient palacios and ornate churches.
directly north of la rambla and plaza catalunya lies one of barcelona´s main avenues: passeig gracia. in 1906 the architect pere falqués i urpí designed its now famous ornate benches and street-lights in typical modernist fashion. by that time, the avenue had become barcie’s most fashionable street, with buildings designed by modernista/art nouveau architects of gaudí fame and others.
i paid hommage to master gaudi once again today with a visit to casa batlló. this theatrical whimsey was borne of a pre-existing home whose owner commissioned gaudi for a serious make-over. the facade is decorated in organic forms evoking bones, masks and precious stones while the roof conjures images of scaly dragons. i also notice that our master architect was a huge fan of fruit as many of his designs incorporate foliage and carmen miranda style cornucopias willy-nilly. simply fantastic!
also visited la casa calvet where gaudi took up the challenge of designing a building in the style typical of the industrial L´Eixample neighbourhood. regardless of some of the baroque touches and the grey stone of nearby montjuic, gaudi´s signature is everywhere.
continued my gaudi tour at la pedrera with its undulating trademark balconies. if i hadn´t known better, i would have thought i was suffering from heat stroke and my vision was wavering! on its roof is a veritable forest of chimneys adding fully to the effect of freakishness. the building is currently used for apartments. imagine living there!
finished off my homage by walking up gaudi avenue from the temple of sagrada familia. i cannot even fathom that level of genius...
Monday, July 21, 2008
mount tibidabo and güell park
left the house this morning on a mission: to find guell park, gaudi´s self-styled garden of creation. however, i was ummmm, shall we say slightly side-tracked? due to the labyrinthine nature of these neighbourhoods, i was soon lost and seemingly on a collision course with mount tibidabo. you know what they say, if mohammed will not go to the mountain, then the mountain must go to mohammed!
well it seemed this mountain was calling to me. you know, when a mountain summons you, there isn´t much room for futzing around! also, i read a great book last year ¨l´ombre du vent¨ by carlos ruiz zafon where the story´s climax took place on mount tibidabo so this was my way of tipping my hat to dear carlos. near the top i discovered some lovely hiking trails which to my astonishment were marked in the very same red and white stripes used by the french chemin st. jacques. though they were meant to mark a local trail, i greeted them as old friends.
at the summit awaited a fantastic old cathedral and i even got to ride at the very front of the cable car on the gravity-defying descent, woooohoooooooo!! had a good little nose around the neighbourhoods in the foothills of mount tibidabo where i drew the conclusion that barcelona is not without its old money!
eventually wound my way to my original destination named after eusebi güell who wanted to create a stylish 20 hectare park for barcelona aristocracy so commissioned his close friend antoni gaudi to architect it. gaudi worked on the park from 1900 to 1914 before the project ran out of steam and the city purchased it as park land in 1915. as one of the entrances was perched atop a rather steep hill, those wishing to bypass the stairmaster style workout could hop on the string of 6 or 7 outdoor escalators at the top of which is a fabulous view! the park contained amazing stone structures, stunning tiling and fascinating buildings. i also found walkways supported by twisting rock pillars that seemed to be growing out of the ground like tree trunks. at the top of the park was a terraced area with a superb view of the park and of the city. here were multi-coloured tiled mosaic seats in a breathtaking palette of colours.
as a huge fan of cartoons and animation, i cannot think of another architect who more closely embodied the concept of animation while his designs remained of course within the realm of still life. all those curves and flowing lines...it was almost as though the landscape wanted to break into a spontaneous jig and bust a serious move! gaudi must have had a blast with these designs.
well it seemed this mountain was calling to me. you know, when a mountain summons you, there isn´t much room for futzing around! also, i read a great book last year ¨l´ombre du vent¨ by carlos ruiz zafon where the story´s climax took place on mount tibidabo so this was my way of tipping my hat to dear carlos. near the top i discovered some lovely hiking trails which to my astonishment were marked in the very same red and white stripes used by the french chemin st. jacques. though they were meant to mark a local trail, i greeted them as old friends.
at the summit awaited a fantastic old cathedral and i even got to ride at the very front of the cable car on the gravity-defying descent, woooohoooooooo!! had a good little nose around the neighbourhoods in the foothills of mount tibidabo where i drew the conclusion that barcelona is not without its old money!
eventually wound my way to my original destination named after eusebi güell who wanted to create a stylish 20 hectare park for barcelona aristocracy so commissioned his close friend antoni gaudi to architect it. gaudi worked on the park from 1900 to 1914 before the project ran out of steam and the city purchased it as park land in 1915. as one of the entrances was perched atop a rather steep hill, those wishing to bypass the stairmaster style workout could hop on the string of 6 or 7 outdoor escalators at the top of which is a fabulous view! the park contained amazing stone structures, stunning tiling and fascinating buildings. i also found walkways supported by twisting rock pillars that seemed to be growing out of the ground like tree trunks. at the top of the park was a terraced area with a superb view of the park and of the city. here were multi-coloured tiled mosaic seats in a breathtaking palette of colours.
as a huge fan of cartoons and animation, i cannot think of another architect who more closely embodied the concept of animation while his designs remained of course within the realm of still life. all those curves and flowing lines...it was almost as though the landscape wanted to break into a spontaneous jig and bust a serious move! gaudi must have had a blast with these designs.
octagonal city
how to describe barcelona? we are talking about a mediterranean powerhouse that stepped out of the middle ages with the appearance and energy of a young debutante. with a healthy two milleniums of roman history in her back pocket, the ´92 olympics kick-started a spectacular transformation that saw the dawn of a technological revolution while preserving the treasures of her architectural capital and natural beauty.
two thousand years ago, roman settlers founded barcelona - then called barcino - and evidence of their stay is still very much alive and well. in the old city are ruins everywhere of old palaces and vestiges of the ramparts that made up the fortified wall around the city. as threats to the city diminished with the passage of time, the walls came down and the city grew well beyond them but barcelonians always had the presence of mind to protect and highlight their heritage. consequently, much of the old roman fortifications are highlighted by barcie´s historical society as bona fide ruins.
but well outside of the old town, many new buildings - even if built in concrete - still follow the principles of spanish architecture: curved flowing lines and plenty of flourishes. one really funky feature of the newer (by european standards, that is!) industrial L´Eixemple neighbourhood is that their city blocks are shaped octagonally. in a city where high rises rule, this creates the illusion of space where you would otherwise have felt crowded. i caught an aerial photo of this phenomenon - gorgeous!
while strolling through some of these octagonal blocks, i came across an open air market housed under the fabulous mercat de sant antoni building. though relatively young by barcelonian standards, the building dates back to 1850 and has plenty of charisma.
two thousand years ago, roman settlers founded barcelona - then called barcino - and evidence of their stay is still very much alive and well. in the old city are ruins everywhere of old palaces and vestiges of the ramparts that made up the fortified wall around the city. as threats to the city diminished with the passage of time, the walls came down and the city grew well beyond them but barcelonians always had the presence of mind to protect and highlight their heritage. consequently, much of the old roman fortifications are highlighted by barcie´s historical society as bona fide ruins.
but well outside of the old town, many new buildings - even if built in concrete - still follow the principles of spanish architecture: curved flowing lines and plenty of flourishes. one really funky feature of the newer (by european standards, that is!) industrial L´Eixemple neighbourhood is that their city blocks are shaped octagonally. in a city where high rises rule, this creates the illusion of space where you would otherwise have felt crowded. i caught an aerial photo of this phenomenon - gorgeous!
while strolling through some of these octagonal blocks, i came across an open air market housed under the fabulous mercat de sant antoni building. though relatively young by barcelonian standards, the building dates back to 1850 and has plenty of charisma.
deja vu village square
checked out that fabulous little village square for my morning cafe con leche and hung out watching the locals play out their sunday morning. picked up and continued on my way in a labyrinth of zigzagging streets only to find another similar quaint village square a half hour later. hmmm, i thought, urban planners a century ago must have had their own cookie-cutter molds much like developers of today, so astonishing were the similarities. in fact, this bar was strikingly like my previous one and positioned in the exact same location in the square! uh-oh, waidaminnit...the chairs were stacked in the identical way and either that dude had an evil doppelganger twin or i´d somehow looped back!
so much for my razor-sharp sense of direction! mom if you´re reading this, i know you´re shaking your head and chuckling!
so much for my razor-sharp sense of direction! mom if you´re reading this, i know you´re shaking your head and chuckling!
Saturday, July 19, 2008
the ocean
eventually my wandering footsteps traced a path to the ocean. as part of my shopping spree the other day, i picked up some boardie shorts and swim top. it took only a glance around for me to realize that i shouldn´t have bothered with the top. most of the women on the beach were topless anyway. when in rome...
ahhhh, that salt water. felt really good. thanks to the strong wind, there was a virtual traffic jam of speedy wind surfers out on the water zipping to and fro. the beach was wriggling with action too. i´d forgotten it was saturday. how great that i rarely know what day it is!
eventually, i kept walking along the promenade by the ocean, turning north a few hours later to return home. en route, i passed by gaudi´s sagrada familia to which he devoted 40 years of his life, thus the moniker ¨God´s architect¨. the ongoing works are likely to extend until year 2025 as the only existing copy of his last recorded blue prints were destroyed by the anarchists in 1938 at the height of Franco's invasion of Barcelona, long after gaudi´s death in 1926 at age 74. thus modern architects are working blindly, guessing at what gaudi might have intended.
was ravenous by the time i reached my pad so i celebrated my arrival in barcie by making myself a mediteranean dinner at a mediteranean hour! potato tortilla with a beer chaser. now that smells like spain!
ahhhh, that salt water. felt really good. thanks to the strong wind, there was a virtual traffic jam of speedy wind surfers out on the water zipping to and fro. the beach was wriggling with action too. i´d forgotten it was saturday. how great that i rarely know what day it is!
eventually, i kept walking along the promenade by the ocean, turning north a few hours later to return home. en route, i passed by gaudi´s sagrada familia to which he devoted 40 years of his life, thus the moniker ¨God´s architect¨. the ongoing works are likely to extend until year 2025 as the only existing copy of his last recorded blue prints were destroyed by the anarchists in 1938 at the height of Franco's invasion of Barcelona, long after gaudi´s death in 1926 at age 74. thus modern architects are working blindly, guessing at what gaudi might have intended.
was ravenous by the time i reached my pad so i celebrated my arrival in barcie by making myself a mediteranean dinner at a mediteranean hour! potato tortilla with a beer chaser. now that smells like spain!
village in a city
set out today on a mondo walk around the city. left with a general idea of the direction i wanted to head in but was hoping for an aimless wander. the idea was to let my feet take me where they would and see where that would land me.
i hadn´t left my front door more than a few minutes when i came across a fantastic find! i am located in san andreu which was a small village on the outskirts of barcie over a century ago. since then, the city grew and like an enormous sandbank engulfing a house in its path, the village was absorbed into the city. however, the village square remains as gorgeous as it was many years ago. you´d swear you were in a small village in the middle of nowhere in northern spain! i´ve a feeling this will become my regular morning coffee spot sitting out on a terrace watching the world go by in the square.
i hadn´t left my front door more than a few minutes when i came across a fantastic find! i am located in san andreu which was a small village on the outskirts of barcie over a century ago. since then, the city grew and like an enormous sandbank engulfing a house in its path, the village was absorbed into the city. however, the village square remains as gorgeous as it was many years ago. you´d swear you were in a small village in the middle of nowhere in northern spain! i´ve a feeling this will become my regular morning coffee spot sitting out on a terrace watching the world go by in the square.
a plague of pesky parrots
here´s a weird one. parrots - also known as the south american monk parakeet and originally from latin america - have prodigious appetites and their population is mushrooming in the city´s green spaces. they made their presence known in many of the parks that i walked through yesterday.
here is an aggressive parrot that eats just about everything green it can get its beak on and is threatening the survival of local bird species. apparently, the first specimens were released by their owners in the 70´s after they grew tired of the birds´ raucous chirping. since then, their population has grown to well over 2,000.
there are even more in the catalonian countryside. farmers say last year quaker parrots ate over 50,000 tomatoes! experts from barcelona's museum of natural sciences are now trying to control the bird but their breeding season has just begun and continues until november. yet another example of invasive species with no natural predator in sight.
quite the contrast!
how did i get so lucky to be living in the lap of luxury? my own bath, fridge, double bed and access to the internet at the drop of a hat. seriously, u may think of it as a given but after a month of either shared or no access to any and all of these things, you develop an acute appreciation of the little things.
spent a good portion of my first day disinfecting and laundering all my effects in an industrial laundry to ensure there would be no chance of dragging bastardo bedbugs into my kind hosts´ home. also went mad on shopping spree with the goal of avoiding so much as a glance at my hiking clothes again. i wonder whether the neighbours would rat on me and call in the cops if i started a bonfire on the terrace, feeding it my hiking gear in some ancient form of ritual cleansing?! while on the camino, there was never any sense of fashion to contend with as i left with only two sets of clothes anyway. now, i need to give this a little thought. so many choices, how will i deal?!
on my first night in barcie, i slept an unprecedented 13 hours! this must have been my body saying ¨enough with the bedbugs, snorefests and night trains already!!¨ soaked lazily in a tub, hung out on the terrace, stuffed the fridge with fruit, beers, wine, spanish chorizo and all other manner of yummy local fare. all it takes is a glance at the fridge and i turn into a phhhat mess of drool! i even spoiled myself with heavy things i never could have bought while traveling like bottles of vino tinto, melon, big package of granola...oh yeahhhhh bayyybie!
i am still finding my sea legs following my stark change of scenery. only a few days ago, vast expanses of poppy-speckled wheat fields, bodegas and infinite blue skies stretched out as far as the eye can see. now i have returned to all the conveniences of city living, only with big traffic, big noise and development everywhere.
ahhhh, but the architecture. that is what i came here to breathe in. there is so very much of it that historic buildings are used at every corner for seemingly mundane purpuses. what i assumed had to be an ancient coliseum turned out to be an office tower and this to the great amusement of a local whom i asked. people here are so accustomed to immersion in this historical tapestry that many no longer even notice. the majority of buildings aren´t even called out as historic, so rich is the tradition of medieval roman architecture in barcelona. i picked up an architectural guide of the city and have been greedily gobbling it up over the past few days. so many treats awaiting me in the city!
spent a good portion of my first day disinfecting and laundering all my effects in an industrial laundry to ensure there would be no chance of dragging bastardo bedbugs into my kind hosts´ home. also went mad on shopping spree with the goal of avoiding so much as a glance at my hiking clothes again. i wonder whether the neighbours would rat on me and call in the cops if i started a bonfire on the terrace, feeding it my hiking gear in some ancient form of ritual cleansing?! while on the camino, there was never any sense of fashion to contend with as i left with only two sets of clothes anyway. now, i need to give this a little thought. so many choices, how will i deal?!
on my first night in barcie, i slept an unprecedented 13 hours! this must have been my body saying ¨enough with the bedbugs, snorefests and night trains already!!¨ soaked lazily in a tub, hung out on the terrace, stuffed the fridge with fruit, beers, wine, spanish chorizo and all other manner of yummy local fare. all it takes is a glance at the fridge and i turn into a phhhat mess of drool! i even spoiled myself with heavy things i never could have bought while traveling like bottles of vino tinto, melon, big package of granola...oh yeahhhhh bayyybie!
i am still finding my sea legs following my stark change of scenery. only a few days ago, vast expanses of poppy-speckled wheat fields, bodegas and infinite blue skies stretched out as far as the eye can see. now i have returned to all the conveniences of city living, only with big traffic, big noise and development everywhere.
ahhhh, but the architecture. that is what i came here to breathe in. there is so very much of it that historic buildings are used at every corner for seemingly mundane purpuses. what i assumed had to be an ancient coliseum turned out to be an office tower and this to the great amusement of a local whom i asked. people here are so accustomed to immersion in this historical tapestry that many no longer even notice. the majority of buildings aren´t even called out as historic, so rich is the tradition of medieval roman architecture in barcelona. i picked up an architectural guide of the city and have been greedily gobbling it up over the past few days. so many treats awaiting me in the city!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
final tally
after 30 days on the road and nearly 1000 km under my belt, i can honestly say i´ve seen some wonderful things and met some truly outstanding people. yet again, the camino has distinguished itself as a unique way to take a time-out and think about what is important in my life. no way can you listen to some of your fellow pilgrims´stories without feeling compassion and humility, never mind a whole lot of luck as well.
put in a whack of kilometres under a blazing sun so was very happy to reward myself with a yummy paella and a few beers in pamplona´s buzzing plaza. as i revelled in all the architecture and imagined it morphing over the centuries, i performed a little mental review, picking out those moments that stuck out as my faves. it wasn´t long before i realized that while the landscapes were gorgeous, my highest highs almost unanymously consisted of people interaction. sometimes with strangers, other times with new friends. again, a reality check that connections are what matter most to me.
instantly popping to mind among my faves were the roll-on-the-floor laugh fest with sebastien and christian, dinner with the three french women who had each lost a son, the crossing from france into spain over the mountains, bidding adieu to friends in roncesvalles and feeling momentarily sad only to hear patrick call my name, arranging patrick´s name in pebbles on a medieval bridge knowing he would discover it...so many warm memories.
but enough with the philosophizing...barcie awaits - the town that never sleeps. who knows what kind of trouble i´ll sniff out there?!
put in a whack of kilometres under a blazing sun so was very happy to reward myself with a yummy paella and a few beers in pamplona´s buzzing plaza. as i revelled in all the architecture and imagined it morphing over the centuries, i performed a little mental review, picking out those moments that stuck out as my faves. it wasn´t long before i realized that while the landscapes were gorgeous, my highest highs almost unanymously consisted of people interaction. sometimes with strangers, other times with new friends. again, a reality check that connections are what matter most to me.
instantly popping to mind among my faves were the roll-on-the-floor laugh fest with sebastien and christian, dinner with the three french women who had each lost a son, the crossing from france into spain over the mountains, bidding adieu to friends in roncesvalles and feeling momentarily sad only to hear patrick call my name, arranging patrick´s name in pebbles on a medieval bridge knowing he would discover it...so many warm memories.
but enough with the philosophizing...barcie awaits - the town that never sleeps. who knows what kind of trouble i´ll sniff out there?!
follow your destiny
no, this isn´t another one of my wooey-wooey tangents. crossing the mountain range to pamplona, i found myself gazing in wonder at the superb view from alto de perdon: to the south, the barren sierra guarded by armies of wind turbines and to the north, the ancient city of pamplona framed in the pyrenees.
at the summit is a column of wind turbines that trigger your involuntary duck reflex with each revolution. also, a collection of galvanized metal sculptures depict the many types of pilgrims that have crossed this mountain pass over the centuries. a smiling man approached me to ask if i could snap a pic of him and his friend with the sculptures as a backdrop. my homing instinct kicked in when i detected a quebec accent.
it seems they were film-makers creating a documentary on the camino for francophile quebec audiences. they were very excited to hear i´d completed the classic camino frances last year and was just wrapping up my le puy camino. with so many stories in my grab bag, how could i refuse when they asked if they could include me in the film! that was my second day in a row of andy warhol style 3 minutes of fame. the stars must be in uranus...
at the summit is a column of wind turbines that trigger your involuntary duck reflex with each revolution. also, a collection of galvanized metal sculptures depict the many types of pilgrims that have crossed this mountain pass over the centuries. a smiling man approached me to ask if i could snap a pic of him and his friend with the sculptures as a backdrop. my homing instinct kicked in when i detected a quebec accent.
it seems they were film-makers creating a documentary on the camino for francophile quebec audiences. they were very excited to hear i´d completed the classic camino frances last year and was just wrapping up my le puy camino. with so many stories in my grab bag, how could i refuse when they asked if they could include me in the film! that was my second day in a row of andy warhol style 3 minutes of fame. the stars must be in uranus...
hike day 30: lorca
rough start to the day what with many swollen and painful bites. after the antihistamines kicked in, i only wanted to curl up and sleep the day away. still, i was determined not to let the critter situation set the tone for my camino grand finale.
though my second day walking upstream, i still ran into folks i´d met weeks ago on the Le Puy portion of the road. these were the self-described slow pokes who prefer a short day´s walk mixed in with lots of r&r. lovely to see their smiling faces again.
traffic was heavy, i must have easily crossed 200 or more pilgrims. with my morning cafe con leche stirring things up nicely, i needed to take care of business but the steady stream of pilgrims posed a problem. i waited for a lull on both ends then jumped behind some thick bushes. with the trap door flying low and both barrels ready to fire, i suddenly heard 5 spaniards approaching. better safe than sorry, i froze the pose hoping to wait them out. well didn´t they spontaneously stop for a wee sip of water and a chin wag right then and there in front of my (ahem...) bush? i knew if i moved, i was lost. no matter that i was completely disinterested in the hired help´s thieving ways or little jose´s musical genius. the drop of my hand is all it would have taken and suddenly i would have become the camino´s voyeur perv with a copraphilic penchant.
thus, i crouched, i waited. patience sensei, today´s lesson is patience.
though my second day walking upstream, i still ran into folks i´d met weeks ago on the Le Puy portion of the road. these were the self-described slow pokes who prefer a short day´s walk mixed in with lots of r&r. lovely to see their smiling faces again.
traffic was heavy, i must have easily crossed 200 or more pilgrims. with my morning cafe con leche stirring things up nicely, i needed to take care of business but the steady stream of pilgrims posed a problem. i waited for a lull on both ends then jumped behind some thick bushes. with the trap door flying low and both barrels ready to fire, i suddenly heard 5 spaniards approaching. better safe than sorry, i froze the pose hoping to wait them out. well didn´t they spontaneously stop for a wee sip of water and a chin wag right then and there in front of my (ahem...) bush? i knew if i moved, i was lost. no matter that i was completely disinterested in the hired help´s thieving ways or little jose´s musical genius. the drop of my hand is all it would have taken and suddenly i would have become the camino´s voyeur perv with a copraphilic penchant.
thus, i crouched, i waited. patience sensei, today´s lesson is patience.
zen no more
ok enough is enough, i´m losing my sense of humour now. unless we´re dealing with a conspiracy of silence, i fail to understand why i have provided a healthy meal for an army of bedbugs the last two nights while my bunkmates have awakened unscathed.
could it be blood type? body type? maybe like cats jumping onto the lap least likely to pet them, they obey a drive to conquer those most wary of them? ughh...thank god for the train to barcelona this evening. maybe i´ll finally get some shut-eye without those bastardos chowing down on my bits.
could it be blood type? body type? maybe like cats jumping onto the lap least likely to pet them, they obey a drive to conquer those most wary of them? ughh...thank god for the train to barcelona this evening. maybe i´ll finally get some shut-eye without those bastardos chowing down on my bits.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
hike day 29: los arcos
what an incredible day. where even to begin?
how about starting with the reappearance of the bedbug scourge in los arcos? i was devoured alive and barely slept. between the previous night's snorefest and making for bedbug grub, little sleep so very happy to be parachuting out now.
still, thanks to the magic of anti-inflams, even bedbugs were not enough to dampen my spirits. moments after i bid bedbug hotel adieu, i crossed a small bridge leading back into charming los arcos. quel cacophony! some 30 storks were busy bathing in the river, all the while competing with the early morning singing frogs and ducks. i was speechless.
at the very apex of the los arcos church is an enormous nest. imagine a large pilates ball and you are now looking at roughly the size of the stork nest. two black and white specimens were preening above the church bells. what a sight.
so i began walking against the current. not that it's that obvious as the camino symbols are unidirectional and geared for the walk toward santiago so it didn't take long before i got lost but some lovely local packed me into his car and put me on the right road. i now had to amend my standard "hola bonjour guten tag" pilgrim greeting by tagging on a "buen camino".
so many were the familiar faces that i crossed, many of whom i'd left behind as much as a week ago. there was little korean sinye who can barely communicate in any other language and whom i greatly admire for not letting this stand in the way of his santiago dream. then there was french mimi and sidekick jocelyne who barely stand halfway as tall as me yet carry enough to keep a pack mule in business. how about german hans whom i'd last seen glancing up anxiously at the pyrenees following his heart bypass surgery some months earlier. young gaetan from gatineau who had fretted that his tendinitis would force an abrupt end to his camino. even "madame soupir" as patrick and i dubbed her from the annoying habit of sighing long and hard to show the world how much she suffers for her camino. i almost felt as though i was watching the conclusion of a play where each actor was taking a bow. with each one (well ok, mme soupir didn't make the cut!), i stopped for a quick debrief, hug and kisses before wishing them well and moving on. i felt loved.
and of course i ran into patrick. right in the middle of some of the most gorgeous vistas this side of the universe. though we'd parted ways only 2 days earlier, there was already a list to catch up on but not nearly enough time. we made a date in paris in a month's time after our respective trips. very much looking forward to it.
if i had to choose a slice of geography to be backtracking on, this would to the list. imagine rows of vineyard bodegas, golden poppy-speckled wheat fields as far as the eye can see, all of it framed in a distant sierra with wind turbines standing guard over the mountains. stunning.
eventually i wound my way back to the wine fountain of irache where there appeared to be a camera crew set up. taking no notice, i cupped my hands under the fountain and toasted aloud to patrick's happiness, to my family's, to my friends, all the while renewing the contents of my makeshift cup in between toasts. at the outset, i toasted each of my friends individually but quickly realized i'd be tanked in no time flat! all the while, the camera crew recorded my every move. upon inquiring what they were recording for, they replied they are putting a special together for some spanish news program. and there i will be, slobbering with vino tinto running down my chin!
one more day to pamplona then a new adventure begins.
how about starting with the reappearance of the bedbug scourge in los arcos? i was devoured alive and barely slept. between the previous night's snorefest and making for bedbug grub, little sleep so very happy to be parachuting out now.
still, thanks to the magic of anti-inflams, even bedbugs were not enough to dampen my spirits. moments after i bid bedbug hotel adieu, i crossed a small bridge leading back into charming los arcos. quel cacophony! some 30 storks were busy bathing in the river, all the while competing with the early morning singing frogs and ducks. i was speechless.
at the very apex of the los arcos church is an enormous nest. imagine a large pilates ball and you are now looking at roughly the size of the stork nest. two black and white specimens were preening above the church bells. what a sight.
so i began walking against the current. not that it's that obvious as the camino symbols are unidirectional and geared for the walk toward santiago so it didn't take long before i got lost but some lovely local packed me into his car and put me on the right road. i now had to amend my standard "hola bonjour guten tag" pilgrim greeting by tagging on a "buen camino".
so many were the familiar faces that i crossed, many of whom i'd left behind as much as a week ago. there was little korean sinye who can barely communicate in any other language and whom i greatly admire for not letting this stand in the way of his santiago dream. then there was french mimi and sidekick jocelyne who barely stand halfway as tall as me yet carry enough to keep a pack mule in business. how about german hans whom i'd last seen glancing up anxiously at the pyrenees following his heart bypass surgery some months earlier. young gaetan from gatineau who had fretted that his tendinitis would force an abrupt end to his camino. even "madame soupir" as patrick and i dubbed her from the annoying habit of sighing long and hard to show the world how much she suffers for her camino. i almost felt as though i was watching the conclusion of a play where each actor was taking a bow. with each one (well ok, mme soupir didn't make the cut!), i stopped for a quick debrief, hug and kisses before wishing them well and moving on. i felt loved.
and of course i ran into patrick. right in the middle of some of the most gorgeous vistas this side of the universe. though we'd parted ways only 2 days earlier, there was already a list to catch up on but not nearly enough time. we made a date in paris in a month's time after our respective trips. very much looking forward to it.
if i had to choose a slice of geography to be backtracking on, this would to the list. imagine rows of vineyard bodegas, golden poppy-speckled wheat fields as far as the eye can see, all of it framed in a distant sierra with wind turbines standing guard over the mountains. stunning.
eventually i wound my way back to the wine fountain of irache where there appeared to be a camera crew set up. taking no notice, i cupped my hands under the fountain and toasted aloud to patrick's happiness, to my family's, to my friends, all the while renewing the contents of my makeshift cup in between toasts. at the outset, i toasted each of my friends individually but quickly realized i'd be tanked in no time flat! all the while, the camera crew recorded my every move. upon inquiring what they were recording for, they replied they are putting a special together for some spanish news program. and there i will be, slobbering with vino tinto running down my chin!
one more day to pamplona then a new adventure begins.
Monday, July 14, 2008
hike day 28: lorca
every day the navarra newspapers are all about the latest victims in pamplona´s running of the bulls or corrida battle of wills. at an estella cafe, eavesdropping over the shoulders of every man intently studying the details of yesterday´s ¨nut-goring¨ in its full cover photo glory, i detected a collective sigh of compassion and instinctive movement to protect the family jewels. given that it was his ¨hey diddle diddle¨that landed him in this precarious position in the first place, no doubt our man will have plenty of time in hospital to ponder the sheer stupidity of his so-called act of bravado. (no judgment here!!) at the very least, he will be the hands-down champion in any contest involving a show ´n tell of the best scar!
neither rain nor sleet nor apparently early morning hours can deter the party atmosphere at bodegas irache where a mere twist of the tap is all it takes to make red wine flow in the fountain. party on, pilgrims!
made it to the charming town of los arcos, a bit of a stretch but well worth it given their fantastic cookie cache. yes, i would walk a healthy 1000 km or so for serious cookies...and why not?!! a grrrl´s gotta live a little, non? mais zut alors!!
here is where i stop pushing south and retrace my steps north to pamplona where i will be boarding my train to barcie in a couple of days. hard to believe my camino is once again drawing to a close, but only for another adventure to pick up where this one leaves off! don´t want to think about it though, i want to savour every moment.
neither rain nor sleet nor apparently early morning hours can deter the party atmosphere at bodegas irache where a mere twist of the tap is all it takes to make red wine flow in the fountain. party on, pilgrims!
made it to the charming town of los arcos, a bit of a stretch but well worth it given their fantastic cookie cache. yes, i would walk a healthy 1000 km or so for serious cookies...and why not?!! a grrrl´s gotta live a little, non? mais zut alors!!
here is where i stop pushing south and retrace my steps north to pamplona where i will be boarding my train to barcie in a couple of days. hard to believe my camino is once again drawing to a close, but only for another adventure to pick up where this one leaves off! don´t want to think about it though, i want to savour every moment.
amateur de ponts
i cannot help but smile at the thought that patrick will follow in my footsteps today and is bound to spot the little gift i left behind. as a huge afficianado and photo recorder of ancient bridges, he will stand at the only logical angle from which to snap his pic where i spelled out a message in pebbles on the bridge´s ramparts: ¨pont de patrick¨. he will absolutely love it.
los roncaderos!
too many are el camino´s qualities to list in 10 words or less. however, this pilgrimage is also notorious for attracting international snorers of great distinction, of which i am convinced my three bunkmates were champions in their respective weight divisions. i finally gave up and snuck out of the albergue at 5 a.m. in time to catch the sunrise. if for no other reason, i will be happy to hear the whistle blow as my train leaves for barcelona in a few days.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
i, bird brain
as geeky as it is, here is the list of funky birds i´ve encountered while in france and spain!
chocard à bec jaune (alpine chough)
martinet à ventre blanc (alpine swift)
hirondelle rustique (barn swallow)
gypaete barbu (bearded vulture)
pie bavarde (blackbilled magpie)
heron garde-boeuf (cattle egret)
grue cendree (common crane)
coucou gris (common cuckoo)
aigle royal (golden eagle)
pic-vert (green woodpecker)
gasconnade
faucon pelerin (peregrine falcon)
cigogne blanche (white stork)
chocard à bec jaune (alpine chough)
martinet à ventre blanc (alpine swift)
hirondelle rustique (barn swallow)
gypaete barbu (bearded vulture)
pie bavarde (blackbilled magpie)
heron garde-boeuf (cattle egret)
grue cendree (common crane)
coucou gris (common cuckoo)
aigle royal (golden eagle)
pic-vert (green woodpecker)
gasconnade
faucon pelerin (peregrine falcon)
cigogne blanche (white stork)
hike day 27: cizur minor
had a terrific dinner with patrick last night. it wasn't so much that the food was out of this world as much as the company. of course, realizing we were parting ways the next day, we may have indulged in vino tinto a wee bit much! in fact, when the neighbouring table left a half-finished bottle of wine behind, patrick quickly pulled a switcheroo with our empty bottle! but not before catching a complicit smile from a pilgrim at a nearby table.
so much bonding in such little time. i left patrick standing on the river bank next to the fabled medieval puente la reina bridge looking forlorn as i waved goodbye. as we say en bon francais, ce n'est qu'un au revoir as i will do an about face in 2 days for my return stroll to pamplona where a night train will deliver me to barcelona. no doubt i will bump into many familiar faces going upstream and i hope his to be one of them. if not, patrick will pop over to paris from his native town of lille to visit before i head home.
so much bonding in such little time. i left patrick standing on the river bank next to the fabled medieval puente la reina bridge looking forlorn as i waved goodbye. as we say en bon francais, ce n'est qu'un au revoir as i will do an about face in 2 days for my return stroll to pamplona where a night train will deliver me to barcelona. no doubt i will bump into many familiar faces going upstream and i hope his to be one of them. if not, patrick will pop over to paris from his native town of lille to visit before i head home.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
salut yvon!
heyyye toi! t´as pas recu la note que j´ai demande a marie-claude de t´envoyer? j´ai pas ton courriel, alors reponds a mon blogue en me le laissant pi je t´enverrai une petite note bien personelle! comme tu peux bien voir mon p´tit hibou, je m´amuse comme une folle!! h xoxox
hike day 26: zubiri, pamplona fiesta
our early morning quest for a cafe con leche turned into a 20 k extravaganza before we finally wolfed down some breakfast. patrick and i walked along evoking images of piping hot java and lip-smacking omelettes when we spotted a gazebo-style tent set up in front of a farm. some entrepreneurial soul had a little cottage industry going where a half-dozen pilgrims busied themselves grazing and pouring coffee down the hatch. to kick up the ambience a notch, the farmer had his teen son and daughter serenade us on the fiddle and accordion. much to the amusement of the pilgrim audience, they were out of sync both in rhythm and tuning but proud papa´s smiles made it a heart-warming scene nonetheless.
as we approached pamplona, the party atmosphere became increasingly palpable. rare were the locals not dressed in the trademark red and white colours of the province of navarra. people everywhere slept in parked cars, under citadella trees, dead drunk in the street at 11 am. in the old town, the city´s cleanup crew waited for noone to hose down the street refuse with enornous firemen´s hoses. apparently we had just missed the running of the bulls by a few hours, a daily event over the course of 9 huge party days where a daily average of 5 are typically gored, trampled or wounded in some unspeakable manner by the most bone-chilling monstrous toros you´ve ever laid eyes on. even at that early hour, bar patrons spilled out onto the streets bleary-eyed, evidently stretching out the previous night´s festivities. drum bands, piccolo bands, brass bands rang out from all corners of the city, folk dancers shook their booty in leg bells in the streets and vendors everywhere flogged their wares. what a party!
as we approached pamplona, the party atmosphere became increasingly palpable. rare were the locals not dressed in the trademark red and white colours of the province of navarra. people everywhere slept in parked cars, under citadella trees, dead drunk in the street at 11 am. in the old town, the city´s cleanup crew waited for noone to hose down the street refuse with enornous firemen´s hoses. apparently we had just missed the running of the bulls by a few hours, a daily event over the course of 9 huge party days where a daily average of 5 are typically gored, trampled or wounded in some unspeakable manner by the most bone-chilling monstrous toros you´ve ever laid eyes on. even at that early hour, bar patrons spilled out onto the streets bleary-eyed, evidently stretching out the previous night´s festivities. drum bands, piccolo bands, brass bands rang out from all corners of the city, folk dancers shook their booty in leg bells in the streets and vendors everywhere flogged their wares. what a party!
Friday, July 11, 2008
salut cricri!
je t´envoie une note par l´entremise de mon blogue en esperant que tu le lis toujours car je n´ai pas pris note de ton courriel lors de mon voyage. j´ai fortement pense a toi il y a quelques jours lorsque je me suis arretee en pleine campagne a un hebergement ou l´hospitaliere te ressemblait a deux gouttes d´eau! elle aurait sincerement pu etre ta soeur jumelle, j´en suis restee bouche-bee. franchement, tout en elle remontait un peu de toi y inclus son caractere bien sympatique. elle m´a meme dit qu´elle revait depuis longtemps de visiter le quebec. ah ben la, je l´adorait!! salut, je t´envoie des bises! h xoxox
hike day 25: les adieux
yesterday in roncesvalles, i bid adieu to handsome cedric, the group of 8 french that i kept running into over the past week and swiss jacqueline. as i waved them off in their taxi van, a bit of melancholy swept over me. not for long though. i hadn´t taken more than 3 steps when patrick from lille called me from his table at the cafe across the street where he was chilling with a beer.
your lives intersect with fellow pilgrims, you parachute into their private dramas, then just as quickly they are gone. while it may seem like a mere blip on the radar, they have left their mark just as you have left yours.
nice to see some things never change though. last night while laying in the monastery with some 125 other pilgrims, i fell slept to the thunderous rumble of surround-sound snores all culminating in a dramatic cadence!
patrick and i walked together through the mountains, landing in zubiri. how very strange to walk this familiar road a mere 10 months later yet with different players. i recall only too well sitting at the same cafe for breakfast where i met julia whom i will be visiting in a few weeks in barcelona. then stopping for lunch at the promontory with helga to breathe in the view. dangling my feet in the river at zubiri with julia and a few other pilgrims. same locale, different people and experiences. am appreciating every moment.
tomorrow will be a crazy day. pamplona awaits as i will hit it on the saturday of its week-long festival which includes the running of the bulls. i hear the city is in serious party mode!
your lives intersect with fellow pilgrims, you parachute into their private dramas, then just as quickly they are gone. while it may seem like a mere blip on the radar, they have left their mark just as you have left yours.
nice to see some things never change though. last night while laying in the monastery with some 125 other pilgrims, i fell slept to the thunderous rumble of surround-sound snores all culminating in a dramatic cadence!
patrick and i walked together through the mountains, landing in zubiri. how very strange to walk this familiar road a mere 10 months later yet with different players. i recall only too well sitting at the same cafe for breakfast where i met julia whom i will be visiting in a few weeks in barcelona. then stopping for lunch at the promontory with helga to breathe in the view. dangling my feet in the river at zubiri with julia and a few other pilgrims. same locale, different people and experiences. am appreciating every moment.
tomorrow will be a crazy day. pamplona awaits as i will hit it on the saturday of its week-long festival which includes the running of the bulls. i hear the city is in serious party mode!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
unleashing my inner ¨wooey wooey¨!
the day´s ascent was punctuated by flocks of sheep, goats, herds of cows and horses crossing my path. and there was this swiss guy in a 10 gallon hat taking a break on a rock while munching on a banana. then more herds, gorgeous vistas and windscapes. ohh, there was the swiss again...seemingly sitting on the same rock...seemingly eating the same banana! more pilgrims strolled by, i stopped to breathe in the magnificence of it all and...good god! there was the swiss banana-eater on that rock again as if in some weird deja vu.
¨come on now grrl¨, i thought, ¨get a hold of yourself¨. this ain´t no hollywood flic starring shirley maclaine and he ain´t no alien personified in the king of atlantis come to abduct and immaculately impregnate her 70 year old vessel. he´s just a vitamin b deficient dude taking frequent banana breaks. eeeek, you slide the barn door open a smidegeon and out goes your inner wooey running amok sewing a morass of bizarrisms through the minefield of your imagination!
¨come on now grrl¨, i thought, ¨get a hold of yourself¨. this ain´t no hollywood flic starring shirley maclaine and he ain´t no alien personified in the king of atlantis come to abduct and immaculately impregnate her 70 year old vessel. he´s just a vitamin b deficient dude taking frequent banana breaks. eeeek, you slide the barn door open a smidegeon and out goes your inner wooey running amok sewing a morass of bizarrisms through the minefield of your imagination!
hike day 24: hounto
upon awakening, i peered out the window at the sunrise and thought ¨paradise is exactly where i am right now¨. however, when i waxed lyrical to the innkeeper, she replied that her paradise would be in montreal. happiness truly is a state of mind. paradise then, really can be exactly where you are...right now.
i set out on a gorgeous sunny day with a good wind at my back. the higher i climbed, the more magical the panoramas. layers of hills and vales silhouetted each other while the morning fog floated far below. many were the new pilgrims rushing by, oblivious to the enormity of their good fortune in the weather department, anxious only to get some mileage on their hiking boots. i consciously slowed my pace, eager to savour every second, not caring to participate in the foot race. roncesvalles would materialize soon enough. this very same crossing last september was still painfully etched in my memory: horizontal freezing rain, a sea of mud, drenched to the core...i couldn´t wait for it to be over. what a difference perfect weather makes.
this path has been travelled by pilgrims dating back as far as the 9th century after saint james´bones were allegedly discovered in santiago. pilgrims in those times had no topo maps or gps, technical gear and often travelled in the company of a mule. they were frequently victims of brigands so they rarely carried anything of value except letters of passage from their land owners. the road was gradually refined to what it is today as western passages required crossing deep rivers while to the east the mountain passes were higher, snowier and posed a greater danger.
while the pyrenees pass is a much easier and safer endeavour today, its beauty has not diminished over the centuries. the great italian artist frangelico was known to paint sensuous landscapes of his native corsica which look very similar to the pyrenees. when asked about the source of his inspiration, he replied that the mountain tops were reminiscent of a woman´s curves. viewed through that lens, i was suddenly detecting a bottom here, a facial profile there...i could even make out a sleeping giant´s body laid out with a foot so detailed and perfect it surely must have been sculpted by master rodin himself. osme of the breathtaking vistas left me feeling so humbled, i was literally moved to tears. such beauty...i am so lucky to be able to witness it.
last night i indulged in an excellent confit de canard dinner with a dozen pilgrims. hans the german had undergone heart bypass surgery a mere 4 months earlier and was looking forward to his first hiking day over the pyrenees with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. he was taking it very slowly this morning. as i passed him, i smiled and uttered some words of encouragement. i am putting out good vibes in hopes he didn´t find it too grueling.
then there was handsome playboy cedric from marseille around whom there always appeared to be a drone of giggling girls. and of course jacques - always distinct in an aussie akubra - who lives right on le chemin de compostelle in aubrac who watched thousands of pilgrims march past his home before he decided one day to experience it first hand. we may have been perfect strangers a week ago but the camino has a way of bringing people together. earlier, the three of us stared in disbelief as 50 or so enormous eagles glided effortlessly above, paying tribute to the statue of the virgin of biakorri. i will always remember this moment and they will always be part of it with me. in this way, we shall remain forever bonded.
i set out on a gorgeous sunny day with a good wind at my back. the higher i climbed, the more magical the panoramas. layers of hills and vales silhouetted each other while the morning fog floated far below. many were the new pilgrims rushing by, oblivious to the enormity of their good fortune in the weather department, anxious only to get some mileage on their hiking boots. i consciously slowed my pace, eager to savour every second, not caring to participate in the foot race. roncesvalles would materialize soon enough. this very same crossing last september was still painfully etched in my memory: horizontal freezing rain, a sea of mud, drenched to the core...i couldn´t wait for it to be over. what a difference perfect weather makes.
this path has been travelled by pilgrims dating back as far as the 9th century after saint james´bones were allegedly discovered in santiago. pilgrims in those times had no topo maps or gps, technical gear and often travelled in the company of a mule. they were frequently victims of brigands so they rarely carried anything of value except letters of passage from their land owners. the road was gradually refined to what it is today as western passages required crossing deep rivers while to the east the mountain passes were higher, snowier and posed a greater danger.
while the pyrenees pass is a much easier and safer endeavour today, its beauty has not diminished over the centuries. the great italian artist frangelico was known to paint sensuous landscapes of his native corsica which look very similar to the pyrenees. when asked about the source of his inspiration, he replied that the mountain tops were reminiscent of a woman´s curves. viewed through that lens, i was suddenly detecting a bottom here, a facial profile there...i could even make out a sleeping giant´s body laid out with a foot so detailed and perfect it surely must have been sculpted by master rodin himself. osme of the breathtaking vistas left me feeling so humbled, i was literally moved to tears. such beauty...i am so lucky to be able to witness it.
last night i indulged in an excellent confit de canard dinner with a dozen pilgrims. hans the german had undergone heart bypass surgery a mere 4 months earlier and was looking forward to his first hiking day over the pyrenees with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. he was taking it very slowly this morning. as i passed him, i smiled and uttered some words of encouragement. i am putting out good vibes in hopes he didn´t find it too grueling.
then there was handsome playboy cedric from marseille around whom there always appeared to be a drone of giggling girls. and of course jacques - always distinct in an aussie akubra - who lives right on le chemin de compostelle in aubrac who watched thousands of pilgrims march past his home before he decided one day to experience it first hand. we may have been perfect strangers a week ago but the camino has a way of bringing people together. earlier, the three of us stared in disbelief as 50 or so enormous eagles glided effortlessly above, paying tribute to the statue of the virgin of biakorri. i will always remember this moment and they will always be part of it with me. in this way, we shall remain forever bonded.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
what is a pilgrim?
a "pilgrim" is defined as someone who embodies his devotion or thanks by way of taking it on the road. the destination varies according to the nature of the pilgrimage but in my case i wanted to step away momentarily from my material possessions and enjoy the people i would meet and the places i would visit in the presence of that moment. the way i see it, this is one way of making direct connections with the world and within myself. feels good to achieve that goal.
so that answers the "what is" question., how about the question "how does one identify a pilgrim?" some may say it's the scallop shell hanging off their backpack, but not all pilgrims subscribe to it. others may say it's the walking sticks and the noise they make against the pavement as the kilometres roll away, but not all pilgrims carry a stick. i say the easiest way to identify a pilgrim is to look for the telltale farmer tan: any flesh between the sockline and shorts or below the shoulders is nicely tanned while everything else remains pale as a white baby's bottom!
so that answers the "what is" question., how about the question "how does one identify a pilgrim?" some may say it's the scallop shell hanging off their backpack, but not all pilgrims subscribe to it. others may say it's the walking sticks and the noise they make against the pavement as the kilometres roll away, but not all pilgrims carry a stick. i say the easiest way to identify a pilgrim is to look for the telltale farmer tan: any flesh between the sockline and shorts or below the shoulders is nicely tanned while everything else remains pale as a white baby's bottom!
hounto, my karma
a little slice of heaven has fallen smack into my lap. as i was disenchanted last year with the slovenly accomodations at saint-jean-pied-de-port, i aimed a little higher brow this time, pushing 5 km further into the mountains before calling it a day. the inn at hounto boasts of a spectacular panorama over a stunning valley. also, because i arrived first, i have my own room...with a double bed...and my own private bathroom and shower. sooooo exciting!
a half dozen peregrine falcons are playing tag in the skies above, cowbells are ringing in surround sound, the pyrenees are towering above me and life is decidedly splendid! whatever was the life of righteous morality that earned me this karma, i bow down deeply to it in thanks.
a half dozen peregrine falcons are playing tag in the skies above, cowbells are ringing in surround sound, the pyrenees are towering above me and life is decidedly splendid! whatever was the life of righteous morality that earned me this karma, i bow down deeply to it in thanks.
busted!
honestly, it was bound to happen sooner or later. here's the deal.
when hiking long distances in the countryside, some of the niceties of civilized living must necessarily slip by the wayside. not to put too fine a point on it, peeing becomes a simple matter of taking two steps to the side of the road, dropping your droars and letting 'er rip. of course, a good glance in either direction and a listen for oncoming traffic is de rigueur.
well, all the checks were successfully executed, my gotchies were hovering mid-calf and i had a good flow going when...a car buzzed around the corner. busted en flagrant delit! there was nothing to do but crouch wayyy down for modesty's sake and flash (ahem!) the driver a sheepish but apologetic smile. before he disappeared around the bend, i detected the old aggravated rolling eyes routine as though this were behaviour typical of any foreign devil! hmmm, given the technological advances in hybrid vehicles and their stealthy approach, i'd best be advised to reconsider my cavalier peeing technique in favour of a wee bit more cover!
when hiking long distances in the countryside, some of the niceties of civilized living must necessarily slip by the wayside. not to put too fine a point on it, peeing becomes a simple matter of taking two steps to the side of the road, dropping your droars and letting 'er rip. of course, a good glance in either direction and a listen for oncoming traffic is de rigueur.
well, all the checks were successfully executed, my gotchies were hovering mid-calf and i had a good flow going when...a car buzzed around the corner. busted en flagrant delit! there was nothing to do but crouch wayyy down for modesty's sake and flash (ahem!) the driver a sheepish but apologetic smile. before he disappeared around the bend, i detected the old aggravated rolling eyes routine as though this were behaviour typical of any foreign devil! hmmm, given the technological advances in hybrid vehicles and their stealthy approach, i'd best be advised to reconsider my cavalier peeing technique in favour of a wee bit more cover!
saint-jean-pied-de-port
it's a gorgeous day in saint-jean-pied-de-port, my trailhead for last year's trek. how wonderful to find the town again, a bit like an old friend. the plan is to nose around a bit then move on to hounto, some 3 km up in the mountains. this time tomorrow, i will be in spain. adieu chemin saint jacques, hola el camino de santiago de compostella.
heeeeeeeere we go!
heeeeeeeere we go!
hike day 24: ostabat
on my last full day in france, i marched to the gentle clanging of cowbells all around me. i am now in the foothills of the pyrenees where pastures are carved into hillsides and collections of white dots punctuate the landscape. how these cows, goats and sheep manage to maintain their balance on such steep fields is a mystery to me.
nike could really cash in by developing a livestock hoof pump where each animal could auto-adjust according to the grade in their particular pasture. clearly the nike r&d team urgently needs my creative mind.
having left behind the road signs in french and languedoc, the signs are now bilingually displayed en basque. i crossed the occasional bit of graffiti in support of "ETA", the brutal basque terrorist movement that has kidnapped and killed a number of tourists in past years. weird...
nike could really cash in by developing a livestock hoof pump where each animal could auto-adjust according to the grade in their particular pasture. clearly the nike r&d team urgently needs my creative mind.
having left behind the road signs in french and languedoc, the signs are now bilingually displayed en basque. i crossed the occasional bit of graffiti in support of "ETA", the brutal basque terrorist movement that has kidnapped and killed a number of tourists in past years. weird...
meeting place
as the pyrenees grow nearer, the number of sleeping options grow fewer. thus, i've had to slow my pace in order to hit the inns at exactly the right time. consequently, many of the pilgrims that i passed all congregated in front of my gite this afternoon. it was like old home week!
underground fascination
a number of french folks have commented on the 8th canadian wonder of the world: the "city underground"! they are utterly fascinated that we canadians should resort to building shopping spaces under our downtown areas, enabling us to escape our harsh climate whenever necessary. since i've now heard this a half-dozen times, i can only conclude that which is perfectly natural to us is simply weird and foreign to them. question de culture!
hike day 23: aroue
shortly after leaving the gite, i was strolling along some hedgerows when a car stopped before me at a farm gate. out popped a woman with a healthy couple of french baguettes and stuck them in the hollow tube welded to the top of the mailbox. brilliant, a rural delivery bakery!
the woman was all set to drive away when the lady of the house came running out carrying a loaf of some sort. they chatted a few moments, indulging in the freshly baked spice cake. i cannot say what did it in the end, whether the darting glances at the cake or my tongue hanging a mere centimetre above the gravel road. either way, madame took the hint and offered me a slice. mmmmm, right place, right time!
left aroue this morning and soon got to the top of a hill where i ran into swiss martin drinking in our first view of the pyrenees. glorious! also with him was patrick from lille with whom i spent the rest of the day. what a charming guy and great sense of humour.
the woman was all set to drive away when the lady of the house came running out carrying a loaf of some sort. they chatted a few moments, indulging in the freshly baked spice cake. i cannot say what did it in the end, whether the darting glances at the cake or my tongue hanging a mere centimetre above the gravel road. either way, madame took the hint and offered me a slice. mmmmm, right place, right time!
left aroue this morning and soon got to the top of a hill where i ran into swiss martin drinking in our first view of the pyrenees. glorious! also with him was patrick from lille with whom i spent the rest of the day. what a charming guy and great sense of humour.
Monday, July 7, 2008
hike day 22: book murder at sauvelade!
mea culpa, i have committed a crime punishable by death. at least that was the case eons ago in medieval france. back in the bloody heyday of heads-will-roll style french law, oral tradition was alive and well, illiteracy ruled and even kings were ill-versed in the arts of reading and writing. these were times when a little piece of magic known as a book was a rare and precious thing. the maiming or - worse yet - destruction of any such coveted gem was considered a heinous crime akin to murder of one's brethren.
with three days of hiking left north of the french border, i was eager to jettison some ballast. this all in anticipation of my crossing in the pyrenees: 1400 metres straight up followed by a 500 metre descent over the course of some 26 km.
thus, my 1200 page novel - which has been my steadfast companion these past weeks - was submitted to a surgical procedure this morning. the first half that was happily consumed was - ohh horror of horrors - guillotined and abandoned on the shelf at the sauvelade inn. act of heresy? maybe so but a lighter pack makes for happy feet and on a trip such as this, that is what it's alllll about!
with three days of hiking left north of the french border, i was eager to jettison some ballast. this all in anticipation of my crossing in the pyrenees: 1400 metres straight up followed by a 500 metre descent over the course of some 26 km.
thus, my 1200 page novel - which has been my steadfast companion these past weeks - was submitted to a surgical procedure this morning. the first half that was happily consumed was - ohh horror of horrors - guillotined and abandoned on the shelf at the sauvelade inn. act of heresy? maybe so but a lighter pack makes for happy feet and on a trip such as this, that is what it's alllll about!
a little rain on one's parade does not a catastrophe make!
arrived at the gite in uzan only to find i was their sole visitor and there was no possibility of food. luckily i had some bread and tea. i soaked in my first bath in a month. quel luxe supreme! here i was in the middle of nowhere in moo country with the perfume of manure thick in the air...but i had an internet connection! yes virginia, there is a santa claus!
rain. big rain. wrath of god biblical deluge and the whole rang-a-dang-dang. so much so that i found myself procrastinating this morning and finally had to kick myself out the door. the first half hour was plain silly as i hopscotched my way across fields, lifting my legs high to avoid the flooded weeds. when finally i conceded that it was a losing battle, i felt nothing less than liberated. whether mud holes or ankle-deep puddles, i was now free to plow through dead centre and raise my head to enjoy my surroundings. so what's a couple of pruny wet feet? it's a lovely day in the countryside.
rain. big rain. wrath of god biblical deluge and the whole rang-a-dang-dang. so much so that i found myself procrastinating this morning and finally had to kick myself out the door. the first half hour was plain silly as i hopscotched my way across fields, lifting my legs high to avoid the flooded weeds. when finally i conceded that it was a losing battle, i felt nothing less than liberated. whether mud holes or ankle-deep puddles, i was now free to plow through dead centre and raise my head to enjoy my surroundings. so what's a couple of pruny wet feet? it's a lovely day in the countryside.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
hike day 20: miramont-sensacq
pulled up to the small village of miramont-sensacq where the only other pilgrim was a rather unpleasant fellow so i headed over to the local pub where a dozen burly farmers gave me the once-over. upon stepping inside, i asked whether they knew who had won the euro cup. instant ice-breaker, and especially so when they placed my accent. i was their long-lost "petite cousine" quebecoise!
well into the conversation, they asked what sort of daily rituals i did to prepare for the day's hike. told them i stretched first thing in the morning at which they insisted i show them right there and then. before long, i had them trying to stuff their toes into their mouths to emulate one of the stretches! one of the guys remarked on the similarities to yoga and proceeded to demonstrate some weird contorted semi-hand stand. with all the weight on his hands and his bum half way in the air, his ears looked as though they would jettison to opposite corners of the bar!
another guy mentioned he attends "laughter class" twice monthly and suggested we try one of his exercises. imagine a dozen macho farmers and i improv'ing mowing the lawn on the bar, over the chairs, buzzing around like inmates from one flew over the cuckoo's nest. what a little magic dust won't get you and all this thanks to another pilgrim's unpleasant demeanor. you just never know what lies around the corner...
well into the conversation, they asked what sort of daily rituals i did to prepare for the day's hike. told them i stretched first thing in the morning at which they insisted i show them right there and then. before long, i had them trying to stuff their toes into their mouths to emulate one of the stretches! one of the guys remarked on the similarities to yoga and proceeded to demonstrate some weird contorted semi-hand stand. with all the weight on his hands and his bum half way in the air, his ears looked as though they would jettison to opposite corners of the bar!
another guy mentioned he attends "laughter class" twice monthly and suggested we try one of his exercises. imagine a dozen macho farmers and i improv'ing mowing the lawn on the bar, over the chairs, buzzing around like inmates from one flew over the cuckoo's nest. what a little magic dust won't get you and all this thanks to another pilgrim's unpleasant demeanor. you just never know what lies around the corner...
hike day 19: maison labarbe
muchhhhhhh better today. though a few layers of skin have burned away from the allergic fever, the swelling has mostly receded thanks to anti-histamines and there has been no further evidence of the little critters whose name shall not be named! am crossing my fingers this is the one and only time we cross paths this trip.
today was a 39 km day. the first half was a breeze, particularly when i climbed over the crest of a hill only to discover the pyrenees stretched out on the horizon as far as the eye could see. though the heat has returned, i could see clear as a bell each and every rocky, snow-capped peak. what a sensational view!
today was a 39 km day. the first half was a breeze, particularly when i climbed over the crest of a hill only to discover the pyrenees stretched out on the horizon as far as the eye could see. though the heat has returned, i could see clear as a bell each and every rocky, snow-capped peak. what a sensational view!
a blackberry story
sadly, though i can see the blackberry bushes showing signs of bearing fruit, i will be long gone by the time they are ripe enough to eat. however, i have found a worthy substitute in the many plum trees frequently found all along the route. barely bigger than a cherry, each fruit is the tastiest, juiciest and crunchies little breakfast morsel you could possibly hope for. ask and le chemin saint jacques shall provide!
hike day 18: eauze
dined last night with 3 french women whose faces have become familiar over the past few days. lovely women, all of them in their 60´s. over some yummy eats and grappa, they revealed that although they have known each other some 3 decades, the bond between them really crystallized when all three lost a son through various accidents, all around the same time. wowww, rough. can´t even imagine. my heart went out to them.
the heat has subsided and what with overcast skies and a good breeze, today was perfect hiking weather. really couldn't ask for better.
called it a day at maison labarbe, a gorgeous country inn dead centre of gascogne vineyard country. as it turns out, it was a duck farm specializing in the production of duck pate, confit de canard and other duck fine products. for dinner, they served the most mouth-watering - you guessed it - roast duck with duck-infused cassoulet and scrumptious local roast potatoes prepared in duck drippings. of course, the requisite platter of fromage followed, capped by ice cream, everything served with local wine from the gers region. ain't this the life?
the heat has subsided and what with overcast skies and a good breeze, today was perfect hiking weather. really couldn't ask for better.
called it a day at maison labarbe, a gorgeous country inn dead centre of gascogne vineyard country. as it turns out, it was a duck farm specializing in the production of duck pate, confit de canard and other duck fine products. for dinner, they served the most mouth-watering - you guessed it - roast duck with duck-infused cassoulet and scrumptious local roast potatoes prepared in duck drippings. of course, the requisite platter of fromage followed, capped by ice cream, everything served with local wine from the gers region. ain't this the life?
Thursday, July 3, 2008
putain de punaises!
bedbugs. ughhhhhhhh. dozens of bites, very painful and swollen, evidently another allergic reaction similar to last year. sleepless night, felt them crawling all over me every second. switched beds three times, submitted my clother to a meticulous inspection at 3 am but the place was infested. disgusting.
hit the road early as i couldn't sleep anyway and got my mind off what i certainly knew to be hitchhikers in my knapsack. the day was saved in a big way when i ran into christophe, sebastien and laurent - from toulouse, lemans and montpelier respectively - a couple of super sweet guys with whom i laughed my way to eauze, some 35 km later. when we reached the city, i set all my belongings out on the lawn and laundered everything in sight. hope that does the trick.
had a grrr8 communal dinner with an international crowd. the camino's a little like life that way. one minute up, then next down but the very next back up again. tiens, c'est comme ca, n'est-ce pas?
hit the road early as i couldn't sleep anyway and got my mind off what i certainly knew to be hitchhikers in my knapsack. the day was saved in a big way when i ran into christophe, sebastien and laurent - from toulouse, lemans and montpelier respectively - a couple of super sweet guys with whom i laughed my way to eauze, some 35 km later. when we reached the city, i set all my belongings out on the lawn and laundered everything in sight. hope that does the trick.
had a grrr8 communal dinner with an international crowd. the camino's a little like life that way. one minute up, then next down but the very next back up again. tiens, c'est comme ca, n'est-ce pas?
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
what's in a name?
first, i strolled through Chier (To Poo), then i hit Montcuq (MyAss) and now i have secured a spot for the night in Condom. ce qu'ils sont vulgaires, ces francais!! (clin d'oeuil, marie-claude!!)
hike day 16: lectoure
after hearing that la romieu must not be missed, i left the ancient vicarage of lectoure at dawn in anticipation of a hot 35 km day. every 10 minutes like clockwork, the sound of a gunshot echoed across the valley, instantly followed by flocks of swallows noisily taking flight. with all the gunshots reverberating across the countryside, one would have thought these hunting grounds. but no, it was nothing more than the tried and true method of pest control, one step up from the old scarecrow routine.
listed among unesco's world heritage sites, le romieu was settled in 1062 by a couple of monks who had just returned from a pilgrimage to rome (thus the name "la romieu"). the jaw-dropping cathedral with its octogonal tower was completed mid-xiv century and is surrounded by gorgeous grounds.
also, ancient folklore would have it that a young girl saved the village from certain starvation after a severe storm wiped out the local crops in the xiv century. as a huge cat-lover, she was pressed by the villagers to sacrifice all her precious felines as an emergency food supply (eeee-yewww!!) unbeknownst to her neighbours, she hid her favourite male and female inside her home where they had dozens of kittens. a few years later, the village was visited by plague-carrying rats, upon which angeline cut loose her army of cats to oust them. thus the village was once again saved by angeline and her cats. it is said as she grew older, angeline's features became very feline-like with pointy ears and chin and a hairy face! to this day, locals hold the many strays in high regard, feeding them and keeping them off the bbq spit!
listed among unesco's world heritage sites, le romieu was settled in 1062 by a couple of monks who had just returned from a pilgrimage to rome (thus the name "la romieu"). the jaw-dropping cathedral with its octogonal tower was completed mid-xiv century and is surrounded by gorgeous grounds.
also, ancient folklore would have it that a young girl saved the village from certain starvation after a severe storm wiped out the local crops in the xiv century. as a huge cat-lover, she was pressed by the villagers to sacrifice all her precious felines as an emergency food supply (eeee-yewww!!) unbeknownst to her neighbours, she hid her favourite male and female inside her home where they had dozens of kittens. a few years later, the village was visited by plague-carrying rats, upon which angeline cut loose her army of cats to oust them. thus the village was once again saved by angeline and her cats. it is said as she grew older, angeline's features became very feline-like with pointy ears and chin and a hairy face! to this day, locals hold the many strays in high regard, feeding them and keeping them off the bbq spit!
au royaume des tournesols
no doubt about it, i have landed smack in sunflower country. crops litter the countryside as far as the eye can see. right on the verge of blossoming, they already heed the magnetic draw of the sun, unanymously standing at attention as if patiently awaiting orders before springing to life. i wonder if i will still be in france by the time entire hillsides of mature sunflowers rotate their faces in unison from east to west in adoration of the sun's every whim. (is that laying it a little thick?!!) hmmm, what happens when the day is overcast or rainy? (way to throw a wrench in the works, h!!)
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