Tag: Way of St. James
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Walking out of Paris
From Chartres I took the 5 a.m. train to the train station Gare Montparnasse in Paris. from there I took the subway to Cite, walked across the Seine River to the Tower Saint Jacques. The tower, or tour in French, is what’s remains of a church, Saint Jacques. It’s the start of my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compestello, Spain. In English he is Saint James, one of the apostles of Jesus Christ, in French he is Saint Jacques. And in Spanish Santiago. Hope that makes sense.
From the tower I walked left, along the Seine River, southeast ward. There was a detour around the train station Gare Lyon and a big port. This was through a love quiet neighborhood where I stopped to have an espresso and pastry filled with cheese. And picked up some candy for the walk. After 14 miles I arrived at my destination of Montgeron, where I found a room in an apartment building on booking .com.
It was great fun to walk right out of Paris into charming villages.
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Boots on the pilgrim path!
After landing in Paris yesterday, I took a train directly to Chartres, France. My first goal was to see the famous cathedral here and Friday the chairs are removed from the floor so people can walk the labyrinth there. Also, I went to the Rectory to purchase fit 10 Euros, a Credential, which qualifies me as a pilgrim, or pelerine in French. Then I walked to the Pilgrim House run by the Sisters of St. Paul. Here I have two nights on a modern private room with a lovely clean bathroom, for only 21 Euros, about $22. Plus breakfast and dinner for $20 more. Looking forward to walking the labyrinth today!
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The Art of Walking
“The Art of Walking” Illustrations from my sketchbook diaries of walking: 2,250 miles on the Way of St. James in Europe, England Coast to Coast hike, Italy, Seattle and Oregon. Now at the Eugene Yoga Studio, 245 E. Broadway. Open 8:45 am to 7:00 pm weekdays, but closes at 5:45 on Friday. Also open weekend mornings. Pop in for a peek anytime until the end of January 2020.
It is hot and humid during the day with pleasant evenings for outside dining. Fabulous food!
Having fun re-living my adventure walking on France.
I am trying my new oil pastels that are water soluable. This picture is using only the red, blue and yellow. Then adding a blue copic marker for added depth. Makes me think a bit. Love the great color.
15 miles, not much ascent, mostly easy descent on ancient paths lined with chestnut trees.
7:50 am to 4 pm
Fabulous day of walking.
Beautiful, green country looks like England.
Met Wilson again, good visit with Wilson about life.
The stone pathway, called a corredoira, is lined with ancient, huge chestnuts and oaks.
In Paiscais, a tiny village, I stopped to relax, eat, and stroll through the graveyard surrounding the church. It was here that the unbidden and somehow fascinating thought came to me, “When I die, I will be tired of my body. I won’t miss it.” I had just never thought about my death like that.
16 miles, 1,300 feet ascent and descent. 7:30 am to 3:30 pm
Begin with a steep grade along a stream.
Emerald green fields, trees along the stream. Cows taken out to graze for the day by an older man or woman.
Another day of walking with Roberto. “Good companions make short miles.”
His girlfriend is still calling to complain about the cold weather in Italy, where she has moved to study. But his phone is going on the blink. Hopefully, soon it will quit working altogether.
Over the pass in a mist. Coffee break in an ancient village. Order something on the menu and it turns out to be a wonderful egg sandwich. Two thick slabs of brown bread with scrambled eggs, cooked solid, in the middle. It is delicious, but I can only eat half and take the other half for a snack later.
Stone houses with slate roofs.
Down into an alpine valley with chestnut woods.
Through farmyards guarded by German Shepard dogs. The dogs are not tied and pay no attention to us.
Recognize many pilgrims and meet new ones. Conversations start out the same, Where are you from? When and where did you start? Then when we know each other better, Why are you walking hundreds of miles to Santiago, Spain?
I will walk 555 miles before I am done. I enjoy walking and like to experience a country and the culture on my two feet.
Hostal is 3 Euros, in a new facility along the stream. The priest runs it and has a special mass to pray for pilgrims at 7 pm, which I attend. I am continually surprised at how touching these are.
Dinner at a small cafe is 8 Euros for salad, french fries, pork, flan for dessert and a beaker of local wine.
18 miles, 1,300 ft. descent, 8:15 am to 5 pm I buy NEW BOOTS.
The view down the mountain into Ponferrada from the Leon mountains is spectacular.
It feels schizophrenic to walk from the “time stood still” village yesterday into a town with two nuclear power plant stacks today, only 11 miles away.
Walking down into Ponferrada, an medieval town with a large cobblestone shopping area, I find a sport shop. But their boots feel narrow and the toe box seem small. Yesterday an Australian couple recommended Keen boots and sandals, which had solved their foot problems. While perched on a stone water trough for animals in the mountains, I had been dipping my feet in the icy water while enjoying the sunshine. And getting a little siesta as other pilgrims walked by in amusement. They stopped to rest and chat about life. Which is one thing I love on this trip.
Coming into Ponferrada, I take a detour route to visit a Roman spring. It is still encased in the Roman’s quarried stone and kept as a historical site. Plus I avoid an area of ugly suburban sprawl, instead entering through vineyards and older, charming homes with vegetable gardens and a few horses.
Surprising me as I come around a corner in Ponferrada, is a spectacular castle of the Knights of the Templar. After the crusades to Jerusalem were over, they came here to guard the Pilgrim Way of St. James and protect the pilgrims from bandits and landowners who tried to make they pay to cross their lands. It looks like a movie set with a moat, flags flying and turrets.
In the pedestrian shopping area window shop, passing stores of the latest fashion, and catching my reflection of a hiker with a pack and shade hat in the window. Fashion is the farthest thing from my mind. I am after new boots. Finally there is a shoe shop of cheap shoes and in the back are cheap hiking boots. They have lots of flex in the sole, a high top and I get the size 10 for only 31 Euros. The women helping me speak no English and my little Spanish is not helpful, but it works. My size 8 boots, with the heel now worn down, go in their garbage.
Leaving town through the modern suburb on the street El Liberty with a plaza named Marteo Luthero King Jr. reminds me America’s struggles for freedom and justice affects the whole world. Stop for a siesta on a park bench beside a cemetery. Pass through many vineyards and popular groves. Flat walking on shaded sidewalks through sleepy villages and flat countryside.
Nine miles in my boots and I feel much, much better.
All locals give or return a greeting of Hola or Beunos Dias. Heads tip up, instead of down, in greeting.
Stay at an old farm, now a very nice touristy accommodation for conventions, but I am charmed, tired and willing to pay to stay. The farm implements, from threshers to spinning wheels are displayed. Plus I get to see how the farm houses were set up. Big wooden and stone walls encircle a barnyard, gardens and outside living area. Plus they restored the traditional round stone dwelling with thatched roof. Food is local and hardy. Empanada of pie dough filled with potato and ham, served with local wine when checking in and again at dinner. More boiled potatoes for dinner, a salad and thick pork steaks and flan for dessert. Visit with two German pilgrims at dinner. They just met and are from adjoining villages. While the room is very nice, I don’t sleep better than in a dormitory and miss the companionship.