Santiago de Compostela
Sunday 17 November
Woke up with thoughts on how to start writing the story for Mateo and Tanguy. A epiphany from a more sombre spectrum presented itself this morning that began with a deeply rooted realisation that we pass through the best moments in our lives without realising it, or acknowledging it, or not having the time to acknowledge it. We are robbed of our life time. Right now marks another incredibly rich time in our family life. A time that would not have been what it has been without the entire family, without the love and determination, without the belief, confidence and faith of our three boys.
Yesterday was a magical birthday day for Lisa. Unlike any other but as Xavier has pointed out it is also Lisa’s mother’s birthday. It makes sense that it is first and foremost a mother’s birthday before the child’s. The meaning of a child’s birthday means a great deal more to all mothers and fathers than what it does to the child born, who can’t understand until they themselves experience the magic of giving life. The so called adult is not an adult until mid life when their experiences and the experiences of others start to resonate, have meaning and relevance is unveiled. A certain lucidity settles in. Lisa will write a letter to her mother…
This morning Léon made Lisa a cup of tea and brought it to her in bed which was very sweet. He relished being able to lie in bed with his mum and express how much he loved to look out windows and watch birds fly by. Lisa started the day off with a sore head but after an entire morning in bed and being warm, it seemed to help enormously. No drugs needed … yet. It has been a lazy, lazy Sunday morning while the washing machine washed, Lisa stayed in bed and Xavier and the boys watched television while it rained outside.
We went out for a short walk around town looking for closed shoes for the boys but with little luck. We only have one pair of sandals. We put thick layers of socks on to keep the cold at bay, but when it rains, it’s best to take the socks off and ride with the sandals. It’s easier to dry them than wet socks. The boys did at least find their Portuguese flags to add to their flag collection.
Monday 18 November
Today it was Arsène’s turn to be sick but he upped the ante by actually throwing up. We did go out for an hour or two for some fresh air and what we did see of Porto was well worth it. Lisa, Arsène and Oreste who is also not feeling his usual self went back to the apartment while Xavier and Léon continued to explore Porto.
One gets the sense here that it has potential to be a wonderful city and you can only imagine how alive it must be in the summer with the surrounding squats, or at least those that don’t have for sale or for lease signs posted on the facade, pumping with music, people, human expression in all its colours.
Tuesday 19 November
We set off from a cold, wet, grey Porto without looking back. The only regret was that we missed on tasting the national dish, the « Franchescina » but with our bellies as unsettled as they have been, we didn’t want to try our luck on day one of the last 5 days.
The way out was on cobblestoned road the entire way with just a few metres of respite along dirt tracks, sand tracks, where we stopped every 2 metres because we were skidding off the track and had no traction, and actual bitumen roads which was incredibly liberating after having had our brains rattled. Lisa came off at the worst moment on the dirty muddy track and ended up stomping straight into a pool of mud ending up with wet muddy socks and all. She almost came off her bike but was able to hold herself and the bike up.
We rode along what would be a buzzing seaside walkway in summer no doubt but we could hardly see 20 metres in front of us because it was pelting down. Eventually we stopped in a little town called Fao, like drowned rats, and stayed at the Youth Hostel where we used the radiators to dry our wet clothes.
We went to the local restaurant which is considered a pilgrim’s hot spot and we noticed it had the Francheschina on the menu. Lisa ordered one and regretted it. It was simply heart attack material. Layers of meat, sausage, bacon, egg, hot chips, mayonnaise, cheese. It was just awful. A table of ladies having a get together ate theirs with gusto. But the vision of the plate in front of her, the vision of these women eating huge mouthfuls and the guilt for having ordered it, therefore having to finish it, made Lisa sick. The boys had one mouthful and Xavier helped Lisa finish the plate. The owner of the restaurant was very sweet. He knew we were travelling and wished us ‘bonne camino’ on our way out.
It was refreshing to be snap frozen outside. The cooler air certainly made us all feel slightly better. From our room we could see a very romantic, rainy, misty view of the Cavado River. There must be only three other souls in this hostel tonight. We had all the amenities to ourselves. Tomorrow will be more of the same – a cold, wet, grey ride.
Wednesday 20 November
Today we rode from Fao to Vila Nova de Cerverai. We rode the entire day with a huge storm on our backs. We were riding a wave – our Nazare wave! It rained and we surfed. The big black clouds were always on our backs not giving us much time – only for the occasional roadside pee. It was dramatic skies behind, with blue sky ahead. We hardly had any lunch and just kept going. Feeling fine apart from cold and wet. We wanted to make it as close to Spain as we could get. Spain is just on the other side of the Rio Minho which was beautiful at sunset.
We would have liked to have taken in the landscape little more but Lisa spent a good 10kms cursing Oreste for causing such a scene this afternoon because he wouldn’t stop nagging his brothers, wouldn’t back off, literally taunting them with stupid and dangerous back wheel clipping games. His brothers had told him to get lost and he wasn’t listening. The parents had to start playing referee. Xavier got close to Oreste’s bike so he could tell him to stop. When Oreste saw his father coming, he got scared and fell on the green grassed berm. This thirty something English tourist and his girlfriend decided that Xavier ran Oreste off his bike and they were going to get involved in our family dispute! Just like Oreste, they kept at it so we found ourselves having to deal with three ridiculous children not just one.Otherwise, Caminha is a charming little town.
It would have been nice to stay here the night but we found a youth hostel in Vila Nova de Cerverai. There were only two other pilgrims in the entire place. We got to cook a more elaborate dinner in the comfy kitchen facilities and then had a long discussion over dinner about the crappy end to the day, despite being in an incredibly wild part of Portugal.
Thursday 21 November
A sublime day, full of changes in mood and colour of the world around us. We switched back over to Spanish time so we lost an hour. We rode along the « Eco-via » from the youth hostel back into Spain. It was the nicest ride we’ve had in a semi urban setting because of this beautiful path through nature where one is surrounded by trees, the Rio Minho, farm land and beautiful old bridges.
We took off after a very simple yet nice breakfast in the mist. As we followed the winding Eco-via the mist started to rise, allowing the sun’s rays to play with the autumn colours. The yellows, oranges, reds, greens, brown, gold, pale blue of the sky, the white of the clouds above. An incredible tableaux married to the calls of the starlings and other birds. Stunningly, simply beautiful. There was no one in sight, we were able to take in this beauty at our pace, quietly and loudly when the boys decided. It was a beautiful exit from a Portugal that we were not expecting to see and so very different from the summer holiday snaps sold in travel agents’ windows and on the internet. It is a beautiful country but it’s negligence for riders really lets it down. It would be the perfect country to do bike touring. It’s beautiful, varied, affordable and small.
As we were exiting we were also very conscious that we were re-entering Spain, a place where we felt very safe on the road. There was a change in style of houses, gardens and it started to feel a great deal more Spanish than Portuguese. That is, more relaxed, more welcoming, less self-conscious. In no time we passed the Portuguese fortress looking towards Spain, crossed the bridge and entered Spain. The driver etiquette changed immediately. It was incredible. Once again we felt secure, safe, free, respected, tolerated. Patient drivers that waited to have a 1.5 metre distance before overtaking, otherwise they just simply waited. Cars, trucks and all.
We went to the cathedral and tourism office in Tui where we received a lovely warm welcome from the woman behind the desk. We told her how much we love Spanish drivers and she seemed to be surprised to hear it. It’s almost like second nature to them and that they had actually never thought of behaving any differently. We rode and rode happily, safely all the way to Pontevedra where we ended up in a hotel because the albergues we were after was closed.
We thought we would get only to Redondela but had the energy to go the third ascent. We rode three uphills of approximately 250 metres with relative ease. It was dark by the time we were descending the third hillside but it didn’t make us nervous at all, even in the dark Spanish roads feel safe. After checking in we went downstairs to the bar, had a drink and then went straight upstairs to the restaurant for dinner. We kept it very local. There was a certain elation and sense of accomplishment that is starting to simmer. We can all feel the end is coming and the sense of achievement is powerful. Sobering. Humbling. Arsène smiled a smile today while riding his bike covered in rain gear that was unforgettable. A beaming open smile showing his missing teeth, rounded youthful cheeks and dazzling eyes. A smile that is engraved for life. While it poured outside, over dinner Xavier and Lisa were questioned by the boys about experiences with drugs and for the first time we explained everything – almost everything – and that if they want to try drugs, a definition we included alcohol into, that we prefer they do it in the safety of our home, but ideally not before they’re 18. They seemed satisfied with the discussion and ready for the difficult day ahead tomorrow which comprises of a lot of rain, wind, and two ascents of 250 metres and 150 metres. It was overall a fabulous day.
Friday 22 November
Today started slow because we knew we couldn’t go anywhere before midday because of the wind and rain. We checked out at midday and although the radar showed that it should clear after midday, we got washed out of Pontevedra. The wind was howling and making one-off the bridges we rode over whistle in the wind. The first ascent was done in the pouring rain. It even hailed for a moment. Léon and Arsène were in a foul mood because they went to bed way too late last night. Instead of going to sleep they watched tv unlimited. So they were cursing us from way back for taking them up the hills instead of along the Camino which Lisa refused to take with all this rain because she knew we’d just be bogged in mud and having to push our bikes uphill for most of the way.
It seemed to take us an eternity to get to Caldas de Reis but when we did the first thing we did was look for a warm cafeteria to have some lunch. Delicious tortilla, hamburgers topped of with pastries from the local bakery. As it poured outside we got a little warmer, dried off a little and more importantly ate! We were all starving. We were setting off on the final stretch to Padron when Lisa’s chain snapped. She’d been having trouble with her gears for the last couple of days. We had to go back into town to the closest bike shop. Arsène and Léon pushed Lisa along the flat so we could get there a little faster. In 10 minutes the lovely guy in the store had it fixed and we were able to continue on our way. Except that we were starting to think we were going to stay in Caldas de Reis, but after the technician told us that we should expect even more wind and rain tomorrow, we decided that we had to push on to Padròn tonight so we can do the last few kilometres without rain. Léon found a bike ring which makes a very simple yet beautiful memory for his growing hands. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow. Arsène asked today if we really just spent 5 months on the road. The last 20kms to Padròn were adventurous – crossing gushing little rivers only to be rained on and less fun was when Xavier’s bag came flying off his bike as we were going downhill because he went fair and square into a deep pothole that threw his entire bike off given its weight. It was a scary moment because we were on a busy road, a truck was coming up behind us and Oreste was reaching out for Xavier’s bag. Lisa threw her bike on the road side, moved Oreste over, collected Xavier’s bag, the spanner and got as far away from the traffic. Hair raising. All of this in the pouring rain as the sun was setting. We arrived into Padròn with a beautiful chiaroscuro sky with a dash of pink in the pale blue hole created in the dark storm clouds. We made our way straight over to the albergues where we will spend this last night. It’s an unreal thought.
Walking through flowing rivers meant walking barefoot on stone floor in the alberges was bearable.
We met a family of walkers from the UK. The mother thought the boys had been travelling alone and when she met Lisa she said « I feel I have to high-five you » which we did. It was a nice ambiance but ambivalent. With the Spanish guy seeming to be forcefully happy, passively aggressive when Lisa asked him if we could share the radiator to dry the boys wet socks. He responded we’re all in the same boat and didn’t budge his big shoes an inch. Lisa found alternatives and at 4am woke up to check whether his shoes were dry – which they were. She moved them and was able to finally start working on drying our wet clothes so we could at least take off dry in the morning.
Saturday 23 November
Very mixed emotions. Relief, happiness, sadness, gratitude, regret – it’s all in the foreground with a flood light fair and square on all of it. Feeling very human with all our contradictions in full sight. Vulnerable, liberated, accepting. Nothing matters anymore except now.
Woke up to thoughts about what this trip has meant. It’s been a revelation about what it means to be truly human. When there are no boundaries to being who you are in the world, no codes within which you are expected to exist nor live your life. When you’re on an outer sphere where you watch the madness and greed of the rest of the world unfold, it becomes clear how addicted to power and comfort at any cost we are as a species. We have developed a fear of difficulty, where everything we do must be about quick access to entertainment, to distract us from the so called failures in each of our lives. We have moved away from spiritualism because consumerism is more concrete, more reliable and certainly more instant and profiteering. That rewards people to loose their humanity, empathy and ability to feel love for themselves and others all in the name of ultimate consumer power.
We left the albeurgues after a good breakfast of cereal and yoghurt. It felt like ‘business as usual’ when we left. It didn’t feel like the last day. Maybe it isn’t. We were more excited a few days before where the idea of arriving was just so exciting. Today it felt like a bit of an anticlimax. A sadness. A mourning. We rode along roads, along the Camino track, over cobblestones, over tree roots, on dirt tracks, over terrain in sunshine and in rain. Léon’s tyre had a puncture and Arsène’s bike lost a screw just before we arrived into Santiago de Compostella via a back road that was mundanely like so many other nondescript roads we travelled along, much to Arsène’s disappointment. He wanted us to take ‘the Camino’ path which in his mind would be full of congratulations, confetti falling from the sky and trumpets blowing. As we got closer to the cathedral it certainly started to feel that way. We were guided to the official office where we had to take a number, enter through the door protected by the security guard, wait in line and then fill out the paperwork stating who we were, where we started, how we travelled, why we travelled, how old we were and then each issued an official certificate with our Latin names. We bought our official coquille Saint Jacques and from that point on we started to feel a sense of achievement of something, many things, which was different for each of us. Lisa had the sense that while we had reached this point it actually wouldn’t be until we get back to Geneva that we will finally realise that this journey has come to an end, although when we get back to Geneva we will be completely caught up in l’Escalade fever which will take over the entire city.
We went to the front of the cathedral took off our many layers to reveal our lemonwheels t-shirts that we bought in Sevilla and put on this morning for our slow victory ride to Santiago. A couple asked us if our bikes were electric and then on closer inspection they realised they weren’t and asked us how far we had come. They were amazed when we told them that we started in Amsterdam five months ago. As it turned out they were from Evian not far from Geneva and were looking at buying a business along the Camino which is no doubt a huge money spinner for the countries signed up to it and in turn the European Union. It is an excellent business model. We asked them to take a photo of the five of us which unfortunately only focused on us and not the cathedral. We plan on coming back for ‘the’ shot before we leave and start making our way slowly back to Geneva.
We got to the apartment where we will sleep for the next two nights, went shopping, made a bad compromised risotto that wasn’t really a risotto, talked about our thoughts of the trip and were surprised to hear that Arsène thought we’d never make it, that Léon thought that it was super easy and that he could do it himself and that Oreste found that it was a ‘sensational’ journey because he experienced the coolness in the forests when it was really hot elsewhere and other touch sensations that he thought were special. Lisa remarked the intoxicating qualities of the perfumes particularly in the summer months when the grass, manure, sweet nectar of the flowers all converge to capture a perfume that is purely Europe in summer. We went to bed feeling the trip was far from over.
Sunday 24 November
This morning we awoke to hot chocolate and panettone breakfast before heading to the station to buy our train tickets to Leòn via Vigo. We went to the cathedral to gift the candle we were given a mission to deliver by the priest in Ulm. The candle along with Léon’s feather that he found in the Lorraine, the gum nut he picked up in Portugal, the eucalyptus also from Portugal was left with the candle as an offering in front of the tomb said to contain the remains of St Jacques. We prayed for the priest in Madrid as he asked us to and thought of the many others we had encountered along this journey including our new dear friend Kornel, the Shepard with well worn feet, the strangers, friends and family that helped shape this trip, the many anonymous yet memorable faces, the memory of those that were here but are no longer, the barking dogs, the beautiful horses, the docile looking sheep and cows, the fearsome bulls – all of it. It will take sometime to process the magic of this trip.
We went to visit the pilgrims museum which was incredibly well laid out. Easily accessible, unpretentious, a great deal of information, the only problem was that we were kicked out before we could finish the visit. It was an enlightening museum with a digestible amount of information that completely seduced us. Xavier pointed out the genial tourism aspect of Il Camino de Sanitiago. We wondered wether it was a mechanism to gain and maintain a Christian control over Spain way back when.
We went for an excellent lentil soup and burgers that we find they do very well in Spain. We came home only to go back out in the cold and rain to dry our laundry, ready for a typical departure tomorrow morning. No, it doesn’t feel like it’s over yet. And maybe that’s the best way to look at this, that the pilgrimage doesn’t end.
