Mom Has Better Luck With 'Les Vêtements'

Kay:

Clothes for the traveling post-menopausal lady turns out not to be all that easy either.  At least the backpack-carrying; long-distance walking; pilgrimage focused; 85 day long; refugio staying; hotel staying; gites staying sort of PML.  Many weeks of research produced one Jones of New York skirt ("dress-up"); REI for practical stuff like boots, backpack, socks, sleep-sac, secure travel purse; Travel Smith (great quick-dry bra for the larger woman and a skirt); Ex-Officio for 2 tops; Coldwater Creek, and Shoebuy.com for a great pair of walking sandals. 

Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Blackheart:

My dear friend and fellow adventuress, Amanda, sent me an email this morning filled with motivation, inspiration and advice for the upcoming Camino walk.  My favorite excerpt from that email:

"If I know you, and I like to think that I do after eight years (!!), I know that you will rock this hike like David Lee Roth in zebra-print spandex bike shorts; you will conquer it as Bernadette Peters once conquered the perm; you will master it as Daniel-san mastered the art of karate.  Roosevelt had a point when he said "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."  You are facing your fear dead on and you will win.  I know you will."

With friends like this, you better believe I'll drag my soon-to-be toned arse across the finish line.  Thanks for the words of encouragement A!

That's All There Is?!... Really?... I mean, really?!... Huh

Blackheart:

There is one thing all supposed "travel clothes" have in common.  They're ugly as sin.  Actually, a better word for them is matronly.  They're very, very matronly.  Perhaps all you "who says you can't wear Chanel on your African safari?" type people should know what I mean by "travel clothes."  A list of qualifiers:

1. Does not wrinkle easily.
2. Dries quickly (as in overnight) and can get clean with a good ole hand wash... or survive a brutal machine wash by Olga the innkeeper. 
3. Lightweight.  When you're carrying everything on your back, each ounce counts.
4. Is neither too hot (no wool, please) nor too skimpy (no cultural faux pas.)
5. Things like SPF and Coolmax fabric are a plus but not a deal breaker.
6. The last illusive element: makes me look good and not like I've been hiking 18 miles through sheep shit all day.

For almost a year I have scoured the Internet and boutiques from Sacramento to Seattle to Atlanta to LA to New Mexico (yes, that many cities) searching for the perfect 'night time dress' and 'daytime dress' and hiking shorts that don't make me look like a middle-aged softball coach and bras that will dry quickly (aka don't have padding - do these exist anymore?) and have come up nearly empty-handed.  I literally found myself typing "hip travel clothes" into Google and came up with a world of ExOfficio/TravelSmith/L.L.Bean nightmares.  Not even Patagonia or The North Face make a dress that hits above the knee.  Are people no longer getting laid on holidays?  Or are we all just vacationing in luxury without the need for clothes that can cram into a backpack?  If the answer is 'yes' to either of these questions, things have got to change.

The only saving grace in this textile misadventure (and I swear I'm not just trying to plug my dad's store) is REI.  I have managed to find a pair of suitable hiking pants and a hiking top that will still make me attractive to the opposite sex should I meet the hot New Zealander on the trail that my friend Em tells me I will.  The rest of my mismatched outfits come from here, there and everywhere - Target, MANGO, Moving Comfort, Lululemon.  Nothing is fabulous.  Nothing screams "Blackheart."  Nothing would be found on the pages of Vogue or even Nylon Magazine.  I would share pictures with you, but since I'll be wearing the same exact four outfits for the next three months, which you will see in every single picture on this blog, I'll spare you for now.

What I will share is my desire when I return to start a line of hip, sexy, young adult worthy travel clothes.  Clothes for the college kid backpacking across Europe to the group of 30-something ladies escaping for a booze and yoga-fueled week in Bali.  The first design?  One simple, easily washable, perfectly fitted in all the right places, wrinkle-resistant, quick drying, above-the-knee length, dressed up and dressed down, men will eat out of the palm of your cultured and worldly hand, little black dress.  A dress that can be worn for drinks in a pub in Ireland to a beach bonfire in Thailand to a picnic in southern France to a nightclub in Ibiza.  A dress that will never have you uttering the phrase, "it will just have to do," like that guy you dated when you were in a slump.  No.  This will be an LBD you wear proudly in photographs.  A dress made for adventure.  A totally non matronly dress made just for you.  Only wish I had one now...

Camino Mission Statement

On April 9^th, 2011, my mother and I will set off on a three-month adventure that could kill us.  An adventure we will undertake by foot, hiking 963 miles on the thousand-year-old Camino de Santiago (or Way of St. James) from Arles, France to Santiago de Compostela, Spain.  Scarier than any of the obvious perils of the journey - plummeting down the Pyrenees, bands of roving thieves, starving to death because of an ill-timed Spanish "siesta", refugio Staph infections, a misspoken word of French, my mom or I suffocating the other with a pillow in the night - is the fear of the unknown.  The Camino Gypsy Chronicles will be a story about that fear: facing up to it, battling it, kicking it with the heel of your hiking boot and hopefully, in the end, conquering it.

Facing the unknown each and every morning is one of life's most frightening truths.  When you exist mile-by-mile, footstep-by-footstep in a place far from home this fear becomes more acute and the question marks more defined.  Is my body physically prepared?  Will I get blisters and be unable to walk?  Will we be able to find food each night?  A place to sleep?  Will we get sick on the trail?  Lost?  Do I have enough courage?  An open mind?  A strong stomach?  Will my 63-year-old mother and my 29-year old self be able to get along for an unadulterated 88 days?  Will we fight over directions, time schedules, religion, who gets the first shower after a hard day's hike, the last bar of dark chocolate?  Will the language barrier be too great even with my mother's knowledge of French and Spanish?  Removed from normal routine and alone with my thoughts through vast springtime landscapes, will what I discover about myself scare me witless?  Will I be able to get by without the comforts of home - my bed, TV, friends, cat, beauty products, car, Trader Joes?  Will I go nuts wearing the same thing day in and day out?  Will the life I know be waiting for me when I return? Can I, should I and will I do this?!

Just as in everyday life, I don't have the answers.  I can read as many books and peruse as many websites on the Camino as humanly possible, stock up on all the essentials at REI, put umpteenth miles under my belt in training, make all the reservations I can in advance and recite positive affirmations until I'm blue in the face, but what makes a vacation a true adventure will always be the mysterious, frightful and magnificant element of the unknown.  The Camino Gypsy Chronicles will be a blog for anyone living in fear.  For those who let it hold them back from walking into the great unknown.  I wish to share this crazy journey because maybe, just maybe, my quest to conquer my fears will inspire others to conquer their own.

... Or just follow it for the pretty pictures and snarky commentary.