The Way

I have found there to be two classes of Camino walkers. The first undergoes the mission full force, walking at least 30 kilometers each day (18.6 miles in American terms), hitting the sack at 9pm precisely every night, taking next to no days off and hiking at a pace that would turn even the squishiest of calves into sheets of rock. These are the people who wear sandals in the freezing rain so wet boots won't slow them down. Who consider other means of transportation other than their feet "cheating". People who take only one or two quick breaks during the day to make good time and beat everyone else to the gite. I admire these people in many ways. They are courageous. They are superstar athletes. They are focused and wholeheartedly determined. And they are fearless.

And, at first, mom and I felt somehow lesser than them. Were we going about this all wrong? Should we be tackling more miles each day? Taking less days off? Pushing our bodies to the edge? Were we, in fact, cheaters for taking the train or bus when we felt we needed to? Was our desire to enjoy the experience like two blissed out tourists ignoring some deeper meaning of the Camino? Was suffering and enduring and challenging ourselves to the extreme an essential part of it all? I struggled with this for weeks, since everyone we came across originally fell into this class. When we expressed our fears of hiking 15 miles through deserted mountain backroads in the pouring rain, these pilgrims would scoff. Big deal. So you get wet. Or lost. Or suffer through it. That's all a part of The Way.

But over the last few weeks, we have gotten to meet more and more of the second class of Camino walkers. These are the people who take their time. Who believe in keeping a day down to at THE MOST 14 miles. Who take the concept of 'stopping to smell the roses' seriously. Who don't believe in deadlines or 'making good time' or the notion of cheating. These people take the bus when someone isn't feeling well or has a hurt knee. They treasure their 2nd and 3rd breakfast on the trail and cheers over beers when they get to the gite instead of racing to be the first to shower or wash their clothes.

Trudy - a shining example of this second class of pilgrim - shared with mom and I a Camino postcard a friend had sent her that had inspired her to make the walk. Trudi's translation of the German made it more of a summary than a complete poem, but the part I most responded to (and I'm paraphrasing) was: "when walking, keep your eyes open to the beauty around you and your ears open to the songs of nature and, inevitably, your heart will open as well." As she was reading this to us, the French gentleman who owned the gite, not even knowing what we were discussing, since he spoke no English, serendipitously held up the day's newspaper. Inside was an article on the Camino, which explained that the Camino was not about getting to Santiago, but about The Way. It was about all those steps in between. About how you got there and not the final destination.

I'm not saying that one Way or class of pilgrim is right and that another is wrong. But if I were to go home with nothing to show for this journey but toned calves and a quickened walking pace, I believe I will have missed out on something special. I will have missed out on funny pictures of farm animals. On relishing the smell of smoking chimneys as villages wake up. On eating olive and red pepper sandwiches creekside. On swapping road stories with fellow pilgrims as we snuggle up in our bunks at night. On mid morning stretches in the sun. And on all those wonderful details you miss when moving too quickly to your destination and not the taking time to enjoy, like two blissed out tourists, The Way.

----------
A few Oloron-Sainte-Marie pics. We are now in the foothills of the Pyrenees taking a few days off to get our bodies ready for the big ascent. Thursday we will summit and step into Spain!





Just what we need - a bit of paix, or peace, before the climb.


A peek of the Pyrenees' peaks from our hotel window. I promise to get some better ones of them tomorrow as we roam about the town. The snow capped ones are especially intimidating, let me tell ya.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Avenue Sadi Carnot,Oloron-Sainte-Marie,France