A Halloween Word of Warning

Last week I went to see "The Way", a film about the Camino, which had everyone talking on our trip, months before it was even released.  Pilgrims wondered whether it would be good for the Camino.  Was this movie a blessing or a - gasp! - curse?  Was an influx of people wanting to follow in the steps of Martin Sheen really what an already crowded trail needed?  Would the true meaning of the pilgrimage diminish?  Would the movie do the journey justice?  Could it capture that spark of magic?  The camaraderie?  What it truly means to leave it all behind?...

Personally, I thought it was a great filmic adventure.  Funny.  Entertaining.  Beautiful and nostalgic.  A lovely piece of storytelling.  But what the film doesn't address (and I don't blame it, as an extended epilogue is movie-suicide) is what becomes of you after the Camino.  So, as a gypsy writer who attempted to be as brutally honest with you readers as possible all along her pilgrimage, I will tell you exactly what the film left out.  A word of warning for any of you thinking of making the trip:

LIFE AS YOU KNOW IT WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.

You like how I used all-caps to emphasize the above's importance?  If I could I would have carved it in a pumpkin and taken a picture.  But I didn't.  As spooky as it sounds, this warning, however, holds true.  So if you are content with your life, if you have everything you need, if you like exactly how your days play out, then please I warn you do not walk the Camino.  Because when you come home and you look around you and step through your days as before, nothing will look the same.  Nothing will feel the same.  Nothing will be the same.  I know of pilgrims who upon return went into retirement.  Pilgrims who moved to new cities for a fresh start.  Pilgrims who stepped into new careers.  Who got out of relationships that weren't working.  Who planned new adventures.  Some of the crazier ones even decided to marry the handsome Belgian they met on the trail.  (Real whack job, that one.) 

A lot of this is to be celebrated.  But, let's be honest, suddenly realizing the person you were isn't the person you are now can be a frightening conclusion and undertaking.  The path isn't always so clear.  What do I do next?  Where do I go?  How do I get back that feeling of fulfillment and peace?  To keep on the Camino in your real life is not an easy journey.  It's as challenging at home as it was on the trail.  Only now there are no yellow arrows or red Xs to guide you.  Only your intuition and a foolish determination to keep walking.

I often find myself daydreaming.  Wishing myself back to that place.  Back to the cafes sipping my cafe con leche.  Back to typing away on my iPad in a bunk bed.  Back to dangling my feet over a river as mom handed me the bag of olives.  The Camino, my friends and future pilgrims, will haunt you.  My advice?  Let it.  Because it's a friendly ghost.  It's a reminder of the life we'd like to lead.  A reminder of the person the Camino turned us into.  There's a reason my mom has seen "The Way" four times and why I'll watch it again in Belgium snuggled in front of Hannes' laptop.  Because the film takes you back to that place, before you came home and realized the dream was over... and that it was time, and scarily so, to turn it into a reality.

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Happy Halloween my fellow gypsies... Don't let the bed bugs bite. Muahahahahaha!

Let's Go Barcelona!

"Bringazingzing!...Bringazazzlering!" Why is it that European phones make the oddest and most inconsistent ringing sounds? This particular songstress woke me up with a start at 11:45pm last night. I flung off my eye mask and picked up the receiver, dazed and half asleep. "Hola?" I answered; at least I remembered my Spanish. A flurry of words from the man on the other end followed, none of which my tired mind understood other than the magical phrase, "Your bag is here. I bring it up now". Hurriedly I pulled on my pants since, the airport having lost my bag, I had no pjs. A loud knock later, and I was reunited with my Precious.

What was hard to explain to the man at the baggage counter and the receptionist at the hotel is the value of this backpack. "Don't worry señorita; it will come mañana". Now, if this were a week's vacation, sure, de nada. This happened to me in Mexico. I complained for a few hours, and then bought myself an all-purpose sarong and headed to the pool. But a bag that I packed over the course of 6 months, weighing each piece ounce-by-ounce? A whole 'nother ballpark. Losing THAT bag is worthy of a jump out the window down the elevator shaft in last night's sardine can hotel room. That's right. The only window in the room opened into the heavily trafficked elevator shaft. (Needless to say, we have since upgraded...)

After waiting 2 hours on the Tarmac for the last leg of our flight, then watching with pitiful eyes and a sinking heart as the baggage conveyer refused to puke out my backpack, then getting into a room that looked fit for padded walls, then realizing I forgot to activate international calling on my phone so the airport couldn't reach me, then eating paella that looked as if it might get up and walk out the room, all the while suffering from an ill-timed cold, and I was just about at my wits end.

Then I remembered our trip motto. Sauce, Taste, Toss. So I curled up in a fetal position on the miniature mattress in our room, had myself a good 5 minute cry, picked myself back up and called out the battle cry, "Let's go Barcelona!" Here's what I figure: better to start at your lowest point, because it's only up from there,baby. And after hugging my backpack in the night like it were my prodigal son, a day of touring the city in the sunshine, finding an amazing vegetarian restaurant to call home and sucking down chocolatey pastries, I'd say things are looking way up.




































Catedral.








Dolce de Leche.







Watermelon Summer drinks at Teresa Carles Cocina Vegetariana www.teresacarles.com.















I title this shot "Church and State."








Saint James and the scallop shell of the Santiago pilgrimage.








The view from Montjuic.








- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Carrer del Carme,Barcelona,Spain

"A Walk In The Woods"

Blackheart:

As we prepare for this arduous 1000 mile adventure, mom and I have been reading books, not only on the Camino, itself, but also on walking and hiking long distance.  I first began reading Shirley Maclaine's "The Camino: A Journey of The Spirit" but soon realized when she begun to discuss past life visions on the trail, that perhaps it was going into places I wasn't ready for.  I mean, I have enough problems figuring out my own life, let alone the lives I've suffered through in the past (although I'm pretty sure I was once a Baptist choir singer and, perhaps, also a soda shop owner... but that's a story for another time).

I had better luck with the next book: "Walking In A Relaxed Manner: Life Lessons From The Camino" by Joyce Rupp.  Still a spiritual leaning, but fantastic (if not frightening) advice.  My mom has read about a bizillion other books on the subject, of which I'm sure she can share on this blog.  Including, in fact, one written entirely in French, "Miam Miam Dodo," which she translated beginning to end.  Yes, she's that kind of person, and thank goodness, because the French know how to find you warm beds and great food.

Yet, beyond Camino paraphernalia, the book I've found the most inspiring, if not for its advice but for its stellar sense of humor, is Bill Bryson's hilarious account of his attempts to hike the Appalachian Trail.  This book taught me two very important principles: 1.) I never want to hike the AT... EVER... and 2.) When setting out on an audacious and physically demanding journey, never take yourself too seriously.  So we get blisters or a cold and have to take transit for a day... so what?  So we run into shady characters with no regard for fellow hikers... nothing to get worked up about.  So we fall in a pond and soak our hiking books and look like fools in front of more stealthy, skilled pilgrims... who the heck cares?  At the risk of sounding trite, long hikes are just like life - the more you laugh at the challenges and perils and misadventures, the more fun and enjoyable it all becomes.  Thanks, Bill, for putting things in perspective.

And if you haven't read his book, I highly advise you do.  It's an eye-opener, not only on the human spirit's ability to endure and push beyond limits, but also on our profound connection with nature in all its prickly, sharped-toothed, hairy, creepy-crawly, majestic, wet, rocky, stinky, awe-inspiring glory.