• Joe Colletti
mai – jun. 2017

The Camino

Et 42-dagers eventyr av Joe Les mer
  • Reisens start
    3. mai 2017

    First day of travel in the bag

    3. mai 2017, England ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C

    Overnighting south of London after a 10-hour flight, 2 movies and no sleep. Got through customs and to hotel with no problems, and quick stops at airport Costa and Boots for caffeine and a travel adaptor.

    Walked into town to stretch my legs and grab dinner. Spotted a pub and stopped in for a pint. Neat chat with someone who was shooting pool with friends. Lee's shed 40+ pounds over past few years, and he couldn't have been more encouraging when I told him about my upcoming walk. Look forward buying him a pint on my way back!

    Grabbed takeout curry, watched local news, washed clothes in sink, and hit the sack early. Tomorrow it's planes, trains and automobiles on my way to St. Jean.
    Les mer

  • Planes, trains, automobiles, and feet

    4. mai 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C

    Well, it took all of the above-- and a buses too-- but I've made it to my starting point, St. Jean Pied de Port, France.

    Picked up my pilgrim's "passport," found a room for the night, hit an ATM, and enjoyed dinner-- the best pizza I've ever had in France!

    My day started at 1AM (thank you, jet lag) so I'm feeling loopy, and having a rough time keeping my eyes open. I'll be a *really* early night. Tomorrow I start walking toward Santiago.
    Les mer

  • First day walking

    5. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ 🌧 13 °C

    Day One of the walk. I took the lower route through the Pyrenees, through Valcarlos. It may be lower, but it's sure no picnic.

    Today was the "easy" day-- 9 miles through a lovely green valley. It was a real challenge-- and tomorrow promises to be much harder, climbing over 2000 feet. Just gonna take it as it comes-- maybe that's one of my camino lessons.

    Great to have crossed into Spain! May still have the whole width of the country ahead, but being able to speak with the locals again is huge.
    Les mer

  • Up and over

    6. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ 🌙 10 °C

    It was almost 8:30 before I staggered into my hotel, but today I dragged 300 lbs of Joe and pack over the Pyrenees, knocking down a challenge that had given me fits for months.

    Feeling gratitude for perfect weather, for my gear, my legs, and people I met along the way. I'm also feeling •completely• wiped out, as in "took 5 minutes of concentration just to get my body off bed and into shower."

    Now to bed, and a deep, deep sleep.
    Les mer

  • Taking it easy

    8. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C

    After the Pyrenees, I've decided to walk shorter distances the past couple days-- 15km yesterday, and about 5km today. That's less than many folks do in one day, but so what? It's not a race, I'm enjoying the ride-- and getting stronger!

    No major mountains, but days filled with constant climbs working my lungs and heart, and descents beating up legs and feet. No complaints though-- this is beautiful countryside, and I couldn't have asked for better weather.

    Tonight I'm staying in a cute pensión run by a young Italian and Polish couple (who met in Denmark and moved to Spain!) Tomorrow I head into Pamplona, about 15km away. I'll miss running with the bulls, but will enjoy seeing the city-- maybe even stay an extra day.
    Les mer

  • Larrasoaña

    10. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C
  • To Pamplona

    10. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Great walk yesterday-- a mix of hills and flat ground, country and suburb, grand vistas and quiet creek pathway. Had plenty of time to think, and met many neat people-- including a woman who started in Belgium and has been walking since Feb!

    Got to Pamplona early enough to explore the city, run errands, and people watch. Enjoyed a glass of wine on the street where the bulls run.

    Today the weather's turned to rain. I'll get out into it soon enough...but for now, I'm lingering over my coffee.
    Les mer

  • Alta del Perdón

    11. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    I was dreading today. Not the climb, but the prospect of a six-hour hike in the rain. I woke at 3AM to a raging storm, and thought about staying indoors today.

    So glad I didn't! The reward for dragging myself out the door was a stunning morning, and a terrific hike past one of the Camino's best known icons. Early tomorrow I'll pass yet another.Les mer

  • Stretching out

    12. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    It's the top of my second week, and I turned it up a bit. Got out the door early, and notched almost 30km by evening. (In all of week one I did 90km)

    I walked under threatening skies much of the day, and through a few brief showers. Crossed the famous bridge at Puente la Reina, met some interesting cats, and drank from a clown fountain.

    Though my feet are a bit sore, I can tell I'm getting stronger. The next few days are fairly flat, so I should be able to cover a good bit of ground toward Santiago.
    Les mer

  • 10 days in

    14. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    I'm approaching 100 miles of walking, about 20% of the way to Santiago. I think of myself as a sprinter by nature, so it's been interesting to observe my thoughts and actions on what is clearly a marathon.

    After two days pushing for distance, I cut today short. There are a couple big hills coming up. I decided they could wait for the cool of morning. And it's nice arriving somewhere early in the afternoon-- plenty of time to read, do laundry, and relax.
    Les mer

  • Too darn hot

    16. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

    It's been a hot couple of days, especially the afternoons on unshaded roads. Still, I covered another 40km, passing through the capital of Spain's wine region, Logroño. The place I stayed there was unlike any I've ever been in.

    Picture an apartment in a dingy residential high-rise, dimly lit, smelling strongly of disinfectant. The sounds of other people staying there, heard but never seen. A poorly repaired lamp, whose wires came apart in my hand as I plugged it in.

    I survived the night, while relearning the "cheap ain't always best" lesson. And while this walk is still young, I do have to dub this place the odds-on favorite to take "Location most likely to host a drug overdose or electrocution" award.

    Tonight I treated myself to a nice hotel. Wish I could sleep in, but I'll be out by 7am to beat the heat.
    Les mer

  • Najera

    17. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ 🌬 20 °C

    I *really* didn't feel like walking today. Tired, achy, pissed off that my alarm didn't work. My pack felt heavier than it had been. And after two days broiling, it looked like we'd get hit with rain midday. No, the high thread count hotel bed definately seemed like a much better alternative.

    But...I coffee'd up and dragged myself outdoors, resigned to completing the short (18km) day ahead. And things worked out. The storm held off, the hills were quite mild, and I ended up in the lovely town of Najera by 3:00. Now it's evening and I'm in a comfy room, showered and fed and listening to raindrops hit the courtyard outside.

    A bunch of people have told me that The Camino is much like Life, the journey to Santiago one extended metaphor. I've certainly discovered the truth of the saying "Wherever you go, there you are!"

    So when mornings like this one happen again after Santiago; when I find myself slowed either by "what is" or "what I fear," I pray I'll remember how today worked out, and find whatever I need to just walk on.
    Les mer

  • Finding Dad

    19. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ 🌙 6 °C

    He died when I was 10 years old. It's a wound that's never stopped hurting. Touching it almost always leaves me feeling angry...ripped off...sad.

    Last night, when I remembered that today's the anniversary of when he left, I expected the day would be a sad one. But somehow, when I put my foot on the path this morning, I found space for a new thought-- gratitude-- and the ability to decide "No, this *won't* be a sad day!"

    And so I walked, 30km through the Spanish countryside-- along rich fields, over rolling hills, through centuries-old villages-- and I felt thankful.

    Thankful I had eyes to see the amazing greens and blues and browns and whites surrounding me.

    Thankful for my body, moving me through space and able to enjoy cool morning breezes and the warm afternoon sun.

    Thankful for a heart that lets me appreciate the beauty I see, and form connections with the people I meet.

    Thankful for the curious mind that led me to choose this adventure, and squeeze all I can from it.

    And Thankful to my Dad for everything he did to give me this.

    I don't know how long this will last. I don't know how often I'll find the grace to say "No, this *won't* be a sad day!"

    But I had today, sore feet and all, and I'm good with that. Thanks Dad. I love you.
    Les mer

  • Burgos

    23. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    On Sunday I walked about 25 miles so I could have an extra day in Burgos. I've enjoyed it so much, I added another.

    The city sits on two rivers, and is a lovely mix of modern and traditional. The gothic cathedral-- with El Cíd buried at its heart-- is one of the loveliest in the world. (Tell me if you'd like a link to the album of pictures I took there.)

    On my first evening here, two locals spotted me finishing dinner, and invited me to their table for a beer. That gesture, and the conversation that followed about my Camino, will stay with me long after I leave tomorrow.
    Les mer

  • Phase Two begins

    24. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C

    I'm covering the next 200km, from Burgos to León, on an orange rental bike named Honey Badger.

    This part of Spain is known as The Meseta-- flat, agricultural, hot. Some say it's the favorite part of their Camino, with open skies and plenty of time to think. I'm thinking of it like crossing Kansas or Oklahoma in Summer, and want to get the f♧&: across it.

    Riding will shave a week off, but it's no cake walk. Pulling a loaded bike uphill-- it's not totally flat here-- is a bitch, especially on gravel in 90°-plus heat. But I see it as another chance to try something new, before switching back to feet and sticks to finish.
    Les mer

  • Well, that was cool!

    27. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    After three days together, and 120 miles of riding-- through heat and rain and a few missed turns-- Honey Badger and I got to León last night. She was a great ally on roads and trails, heading straight into one storm without complaint, and helping me outrun two others. I'll miss her.

    Looking back, I'm happy with the choice to ride, and for reasons different than those expected. True, I crossed a less-scenic area five or six days faster than if I'd walked, and doing that let me see a few people I'd met earlier on the trip.

    But switching modes also gave me new chances to stretch. I used different leg muscles, practiced new skills, faced down new fears (like bombing down a rocky trail with a rack full of gear!) And that's a big part of why I came to Spain.

    Today I'll wash clothes, buy a few things, enjoy León and take pictures. Tomorrow I'll pick up sticks again, and continue walking west. I'm looking forward to it.
    Les mer

  • Rest...and rain

    28. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    In León I took an extra day to relax, wash clothes and play tourist. I admired the city's old center section and cathedral, but Burgos remains my favorite city.

    I got to see / hear rock concert put on by municipality-- and got only three hours of sleep my last night there, because of people singing and clowning outside my window till 3:30AM, and again at 6:30. (different people, I think)

    Tempting as it was to stay in bed, I headed out into a drizzly Sunday morning, and walked the dozen or so miles to Villadangos del Páramo. It wasn't much more than a wide spot in the road, notable only for the most interesting take on minestrone I've ever been confronted with.
    Les mer

  • Astorga

    30. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ☀️ 17 °C

    I pushed myself hard to get here-- 33km, about 21 miles. The countryside was lovely, and the rain gave way to a beautiful sky mid-afternoon, but I was wrecked when I arrived.

    The last few miles seemed to stretch on forever; the 4-story pedestrian bridge over railroad tracks at the town's outskirts felt like Everest. Maybe pizza and beer wasn't the best lunch choice.

    Between my condition, the lovely hotel-- and the knowledge that the coming days would be challenging-- it was an easy decision to stay an extra night.

    Astorga is a charming town, dating back to Roman times, when it was a key point situated on two trading routes. There's still a market set up every Tuesday, though the imports from China have changed considerably.
    Les mer

  • To the hills

    31. mai 2017, Spania ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C

    Heading west from Astorga the road rose, as I continued leaving the plains of Castile behind. I'd planned a fairly easy day to set myself up for tomorrow's climb to the highest point on the Camino, and a visit to the famous Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross)

    The albergue where I ask for directions to my hotel had a good vibe to it. I was happy to return when my hotel host wasn't around to greet me. Happier still to stay in a comfortable private room for half what I expected to pay.

    When I heard about a Vespers service being sung in Latin, I jumped. It seems like a fitting ritual before tomorrow's climb. While I didn't share the beliefs of many in attendance, I was moved-- both by the atmosphere, and a connection I felt to pilgrims who'd sung these same words a thousand years before.

    I left the small church to capture a few evening photos, enjoy a huge plate of pasta, and chat with a pair of Aussies I met several times along the way. Then I headed off to bed. Tomorrow would start early, and be a big day...
    Les mer

  • Over the mountain

    2. juni 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    The climb to the Cruz de Ferro was challenging, but the morning weather and sweeping vistas looking back were lovely. I got to the summit well before noon, left a rock by the cross-- as is tradition-- and spent some time taking in the ambience.

    The hike *down* the steep and rocky trails was much tougher, and I found myself missing Honey Badger. A bike would have turned 2 hours of stumbling into a 10 minute glide.

    I stopped at the first town over the top, El Acebo, putting off the rest of my descent until the following day. Good decision. The place I stayed was great, and the rocky canyon below was hard enough on *fresh* legs.

    My day ended in Ponferrada, an ancient town once run by the Knights Templar. I was happy to be over one mountain range, and already thinking about the famously difficult climb I'd face a few days later-- O Cebreiro, gateway to the province of Galicia.
    Les mer

  • Climbing lightly

    6. juni 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    If you'd told me beforehand that one of my favorite days on the Camino would involve a 2,000 foot climb, I'd have said you were delusional. And yet...

    After leaving Ponferrado I passed through El Bierzo, another of Spain's wine-growing regions. While La Rioja may produce the most famous wines, the landscape I saw here beats it hands down.

    I walked for three days alongside cold clear rivers, and up and down dramatic green ridges draped in zigzagging vineyards and fields.

    But O Cebreiro was always on my mind. I knew it would be the biggest climb since the Pyrenees. I didn't know just how much stronger I'd become in the past month.

    I started my climb on a crisp sunny morning. The first half was the steepest, but I climbed loose and strong, lifted by forests and grasses, and by air freshly scrubbed by a storm the night before. The slope lessened over the second half and the vista opened up, providing sweeping 40-mile views back to the east.

    When I entered O Cebreiro around noon, I was elated and surrounded by Celtic music; more than ready to enjoy lunch and a beer with two Italian friends I just met.

    This was a magic day, and a great lesson in learning to trust my strength more than my fear.
    Les mer

  • Quickening...

    12. juni 2017, Spania ⋅ ☁️ 18 °C

    There are a couple ways to describe the days following O Cebreiro.

    One is as the guidebooks do. I'd now entered Galicia, a region in Spain's Northwest filled with small farms, large hills, and forests of pine and eucalyptus. Galicia's climate is influenced by the Atlantic, its culture by the Celts, its language (Gallego) by the Portuguese.

    It'd be no less accurate, though, to describe this stretch as something of a circus. Since anyone who walks the final 100km to Santiago qualifies for a Compostela, the number of people on the trail swells 10x practically overnight.

    The fresh enthusiasm of these new pilgrims wasn't altogether unpleasant, but it was a jarring shift from the weeks before. I often found myself feeling like a single car in a train hurtling west.

    That said, I have great memories from this time -- joining a couple from San Antonio on a roller-coaster descent from O Cebreiro via bike; three evenings with new friends from Italy; a song-filled dinner with a table of Aussies and Kiwis.

    I'm thankful too for those few hours I enjoyed relative solitude, cool mornings, and eucalyptus scents and shade. Thankful also for the challenges, and the feelings of strength and pride, as my legs and lungs chewed up hills that would have kicked my ass weeks before.

    One especially hot and long day from Melide to A Brea capped this time, and put me within striking distance of Santiago...
    Les mer

  • 40 Days

    13. juni 2017, Spania ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    My plan was to reach Santiago on Wednesday. I'd already booked a room a few miles outside town, so I could get to the cathedral early.

    But when I woke up Tuesday-- just 25km left out of 800, and feeling strong-- I knew I'd be blowing past the hotel, and completing my walk in 40 days. Something good about that span.

    I headed out under grey skies, the Camino tossing one more day of rain at me. (Who knew a sweat-laden poncho could get that smelly after a week's confinement?)

    The crowds I'd seen a few days before were gone, and for several hours I had the damp forest paths almost to myself.

    As I passed Santiago's airport, the woods gave way to neighborhoods and the clouds lifted, revealing sunny skies two hours earlier than the dramatic cathedral square entrance I'd scripted

    The temperature rose quickly as I started the climb up Mt. Joy, the site where pilgrims traditionally got their first glimpse of Santiago. The rays remained strong on the downhill, and through the long westward walk across suburbs and new neighborhoods.

    Finally, I reached the Old Town, entering the cool shade of densely packed buildings. I wound through the ancient streets-- one blind corner, one yellow arrow at a time-- knowing that the cathedral square was close by, wondering when it would appear.

    And then, a final archway and I emerged onto a massive plaza, before a giant cathedral swathed in scaffolding, but sitting there confidently, as it had for years

    I smiled, and my eyes watered a little, but it was quiet satisfaction and not exhilaration that filled me. Was this because I was tired? Because the square was uncrowded, and I'd yet to reconnect with the friends I'd made along the way? Was it mixed emotions, knowing that this journey had ended, knowing that I was stepping back into the world without the grand "This is what I'm doing next!" insight I'd hoped for?

    I didn't know. Days later, I still cannot answer it clearly. What I do know is that I accomplished something big, something difficult I'd set my heart on, something that forced me to grow far past earlier boundaries. Maybe the answers will fill that new space, sometime, when I'm not looking for them.

    Thanks for sharing the journey with me!
    Les mer

    Reisens slutt
    13. juni 2017