Madrid!

Holy Road Trip!
The Camino does not want to let go...
Up at 7am, coffee and croissants, then cycle down to train station and car rental.
We get two cars, VW Jetta and Fiat Bravo...more like, OhNo.
The Jetta can't fit the five bikes, but the Fiat gulps them nicely. After a few hiccups...gas tanks not full, mileage not balancing, we are ready...
Fiat says, No Start!
Ann finally walks over and asks Brian to apply Cojones, still....no start. Rental woman gets in, starts perfectly, and we are off...to the parking lot gate, where our parking tickets have expired and will not let us out...parking guy says, "not my problem".
Ann lets a bit of steam out at the rental woman and she gets us new exit tickets and we are off!
In Ourense, we stop and have a nice meal, head back to the cars, and Fiat will not start. No joy. Cojones or no, not starting. I get in for my big attempt, no joy..however, futzing around, Fiat speaks, and...Ann stalls pulling out of the very tight slot.
This was the last time "Fix it again, Tony" spoke to us. Ann gets on the cell phone to EuropCar and they tell us it is a Portugese registered Tony and we need to call EuropCar Portugal.
Steam is visibly appearing now, not just with Ann. Dad and I stay with the dead Fiat, the rest get in the VW and drive to the Ourense EuropCar to get another car, my idea was to leave Tony at the side of the road to be dealt with by the rental place and grt to Madrid.
They show up with a mechanic in tow, driving a big car hauler...Tony doesn't speak his langauge, either. Now EuropCar knows it's not just dufus tourists.
Arturo, the mech, is cool. He wastes no time getting Tony on the back of the hauler..he puts it in front of the Fiat, tilts the bed, and drives Tony onto the back with the starter motor in first gear..take that, you pesky Italian!
We drive to the auto shop, Dad and I with Arturo, the rest following behind in the rush hour traffic, and then we go to rent another car...which turns out to be another Tony!
However, he speaks our language, and by about 6pm we've gotten back to the shop, transferred the bikes and luggage, and are on the road..five hours after stopping for lunch.
We've got about 400km to go, and we're flying along at 140kph...the kilometers are spinning down. As we approach Madrid, the sun is going down, we are surrounded by thunderheads, ancient churches, and ruined castles...very pretty.
The plan was to call Carmen on one of our Spanish cell phones and have her guide us in, but one at a time, they both run out of call time.
You might think that midnight would be a quiet time to enter a city, but not in Spain, and not Madrid. Ann gets ahold of Carmen briefly, she is at her mothers, and Ann remembers, sort of, how to get there. Here I am, driving Tony down freakin' narrow streets, midnight, trying not to clip the cars on either side OR lose Brian, right ahead, who I have to follow closely enough to not lose, and give enough room to let him make his abrupt lane changes/turns and still stick with him. Only 14 hours on the road, too. We find Carmen, she gives us the garage remote, and it is the same dance of autos to her house. We don't get lost, much, or lose each other, and arrive about midnight.
Yikes...Long day.

Santiago!

Whew...
If I never hear...
"It's all downhill from here"
again..
I'll be glad.
Rolled into town at 4pm, threaded our way through traffic, pilgrims, tourists, and patient locals to the Santiago Cathedral, the finish line for the Camino.
We got one of the pesky walkers that kept up with us to get our photo in front of cathedral, and then spent an hour finding our hotel...where I collapse into bed for my afernoon nap. It is not really a nap, more of comatose lapse.
42km today, up/down/up/down...not much more of the cowpie goo, and the weather has been pretty nice...ok, not raining is nice now.
Tomorrow we go do the traditional pilgrim stuff, rub St. James's belly, see the pilgrims mass, and get our Compostela, the certificate from the church that states we finished the pilgrimage. It is supposed to absolve you of all past sins (I call it my 'Get out of hell free card)
Pilgrim's Mass is actually quite cool. I suppose it would be better if I understood what they were saying, of course..but there were teary eyes in many spots. The huge swinging sensor (incense holder..65lbs)was quite impressive, 6 monks haul it up after they fill it with incense, and get it going in a huge arc, Dad is going to pace it off...once a surveyor...
He guessed at least a 200' arc.
At 6pm we took a tour of the Cathedral and surrounding plazas with an English speaking guide that was very amusing at times...
He showed us the old hospital, now a Paradore hotel, avery expensive chain of hotels in Spain, always located in historical buildings. This one has rows of gargoyles that double as rainspouts. The two directly over the main entrance have their mouths twisted sideways, so that the entry is rainfree...
He says, "Now count three over from the right one over the entrance, check out that gargoyle...you'll notice it has the rain coming out...a different orifice..".
The drain was a gargoyle mooning the plaza, with a large set of cojones adjacent...you can guess where the water came out.
The tour guide also pointed out a quartet of statues near an entrance inside, one of which was St. Daniel, who was smiling...which is unusual for a Catholic statue.
Rumor has it he is smiling because of the naked breasts on the statue across the pathway...which the shocked clergy kept reducing the bust size on. The enterprising Spanish made up for the smaller titties on the statue by making their cheeses shaped like breasts...'tittillas'.
I just can't help myself...and pipe up: "So, is this where the custom of saying 'Cheese' to get people to smile for photographs came from? St. Daniel leering at titties!?"
Everyone burst out laughing, and Ann said it was being translated into many languages...
I know what I will be thinking of when saying 'Cheese' from now on!
We are renting cars tomorrow and stuffing ourselves, our bikes, and our luggage into them in the morning and driving back to Madrid and our flight home Saturday morning.

Portomarin > Palas de Rei > Arzua

We get a very late start, bedtime was after midnight, and we have to clean the cowpie/sand slurry off the derailleurs, brakes, wheels, etc. We finally have a no-rain day, however...29km to a town on a hill, Palas de Rei. LOTS of walkers now, all you have to do is walk 100km for your compostela, a lot of wussie types fly into Santiago, taxi out to the 100km point, and walk in...it might be a coincidence, but we've seen many more Americans since we past that point. Now we are in an internet cafe in Arzua, checking email, sucking down Galician beers, and watching a Bond movie...en espanol. Today was a 31km day, up and down hills, the downs are fuuuuuun! Uphill sucks....I usually walk them. Brian got a nice nail, 3 holes, and on a downhill, so he broke a spoke by the time he could stop...he was right on my ass on that downhill, my luck holds again.
Galicia is gorgeous, greens of every possible combination...Dad says no more cowpie trails, so they are now burro-pies..shhhhh. Great dinner, same bar...an Australian woman joins us, we passed her (briefly) on the trail, and ended up in the same places. It is amazing how well we keep up with the walkers..some unique Russell trait...it was the same last year.
Today is Toms 13th birthday, tomorrow we arrive, St. James willing, in Santiago, 38km away. It has been a trial, and a trail, of enlightenment. Most photos today were with the Canon, so I'll have to steal Brian's computer away to resize a few for you, but here is a Galician uphill. Thanks for enduring this with us.. David

Triacastela > Portomarin

Via Rio Cowpie Milkshake...
Holy Crap...I mean, literally.
We had a wonderful, sunfilled ride from Triacastela via Samos, although with a late start, we slept in until 8am!
OhMyGawd! I'm sure!
We ride own a river mostly, farms, trees, cool paths, a very lovely old mill, we took lots of photos, including another burro co-existing with a long horn. The burro would bug the longhorn until she whipped her head about, then use her horns for precise scratching opportunities. The burro was in the field at the monastery in Samos, a very old (6th century) monastery, that took both nuns and priests, and was run by a married couple of virgins.
Hmmmm. Yearly checkups?
It was very beautiful, located in the curve of the river..as we were watching, a nun came out with a flock of chickens, but we missed the photo opp. One thing about Spain, eggs are in almost every meal, but chicken is very rare to find in a dish.
We got picnic stuff, our first sunny, warm, nice day, and stop at a peregrino picnic site on the river..lovely. Wine, fresh bread, pate, cucumber, tomatoes, chorizo, salami, chocolate, cherries, yummers.
Don't fret, Cowpie approacheth...
Now, you recall we are pounding the kilometers away, and discussed a possibility of 'Taking it Easy'...I mean, no use getting to Santiago a week ahead of time...Right!?
SOMEBODY decides that since we slept in, we should press on until 6 or 7pm, it is light until 10pm here..
I mean, why not? Everyone else except your faithful writer goes along with this, an apparently collective brainfart causing the memory of the ENTIRE time here in Spain, the last two weeks...
Rain starts at 4pm.
So in Sarria, at 4pm, after 30km....they, not we, decide to press on...
I say.."uh, why? 30km not enough?"
"You all forget the places fill up this late, we'll have to press on until Portomarin...22km farther?"
Out of Sarria we have a 200 meter climb, followed in 10km or so by another 50 meter climb, then the descent to Portomarin. The rain starts just up the hill from Sarria.
5km out, just about halfway up the hill, we are soaked. It gets worse...the trails the Camino use are also used by...cows.
As Tom points out..."that ain't mud".
The rain continues....now it is after 6pm, the cows are coming home...one woman is driving five of them up the trail and they are balking at passing us..the first is resisting, she is in the rear, yelling in Spanish..the fourth one wheelies onto the third, as if her udder was another utensil, and drives them right past, mounted the whole way. All of us are laughing, including the old woman, and because of the driving rain, alas, no photos. We bounce, bash, and splash up and down creekbed/trails
Now, the descent begins...rivers of cowpie milkshake are flowing down the trail, I mean, 6" deep, rocks, muck, indescribably toxic goo. Where it was level was worse, foot deep muck, you did NOT want to put your feet down, falling over was out of the question...Now it is 8pm...still raining, muck, gravel, rocks, bicycles...all flowing downhill...nobody crashes, thank Santiago!
Finally Dad bails, he and Ann take a chance and try a paved road, Tom, Brian, and I keep bashing down the riverbed/trail...I did get a photo and a movie of one section, but on my little Canon, which I can't resize the photos on, the Nikon has in-camera editing/resizing, but I am not taking it out!
10pm, we roll...squishingly...into Portomarin. I am a bit upset, it was an adventure, yes, and fun, ok...but completely un-necessary.
52km, left at 10am, got in at 10pm. We just barely find a restaurant open for dinner, and collapse into bed after midnight.
We call this...
Taking it Easy.

Galicia

We are over the top, and at the foot of O'Cebreiro again, but 30km into Galicia.
While the others were having mad dentist dreams while napping in the Little Refugio of Horrors, Brian and Tom cycled up to check out the trail the guidebooks keep warning us about..Brian says.."Yes, it is muddy, yes there are rocks, but there is also a paved way, a narrow single track into the fog"...and so, after our coffee and bread breakfast, up we go. The single track is a bit longer, 9km instead of 7, and steep like the stairway to heaven..up,up,up. Dad disappears ahead, Tom passes me a little later, then Ann catches up. Brian goes the dirt path to make sure Tom didn't go that way, so Ann and I climb away, walking now.
0.2km, stop, breath, repeat.
This goes on for three hours, through oak, gorse, heather, fog, rain, up.
A mini Pyrenees...that climb went on for twice as long.
Finally, we are there..not a lot to see, on the windy, misty crest; but a bit further is the actual town of O'Cebreiro, with these round thatched Galician stone buildings..the books say are used for "humans or cattle".
Hmm...mother-in-law visiting? Change the hay in the spare room!
We hit the giftshop and Brian and I drain a beer while the others have hot chocolate, then...the descent that Tom and I have been looking forward to...30km! Down!
But..no,the books lied, three more little passes keep putting off the thrill. Finally, Alto de Ojo, the last pass, and the rain descends instead. Dashing into a conveniently located bar, we are reminded yet again we are not in California...a wave of stale tobacco smoke rolls out..it is warm inside, however, so we endure it, and have the first hot soup so far. The Spanish seem to like their white wine and soup warm, and red wine cold. A warning to you all...this is a foreign country.
The rain slacks off, and we go for it...at least, Dad, Tom, and I..Brian and Ann are too pokey...we are hot to get off the hill, a 7% grade for 15km. Alas, the ain and wind are not through with us, on one tack through the switchbacks the wind is so strong we have to PEDAL downhill, and coming about to the next switchback is a bit thrilling, but then we have a tailwind...heh, heh.
I leave those two losers behind, hitting 62.5km per hour. Of course, the next switchback repeats this, and then it is a straight run down to Triacastela, where we are now, in a pension called "Casa Olga"
120km to go, we need to slow it down a bit!

The Foot of O'Cebreiro

We are in Las Herreras, just at the beginning of the last tough climb of our Camino...plenty more little ones, yes...but nothing like this. 10% grade, for 7 kilometers. Yes...we have a rewarding 30km of downhill afterwards.
From Villafranca we had a cold, soggy ride farther up the valley, but it is narrower now, and a fast flowing river gets closer and closer. I am pretty damn cold, if you wear too much, you sweat like crazy under the raingear, not enough, brrrr. Stopping for hot chocolate improves my opinion of the world somewhat and we press on. If you let Dad get on pavement he's a road monster, and since the camino is beside a by-passed highway, we ride on it, and he just flies off. I just pedal on, bicycling is different from motorcycling in many ways...on the bicycle, I keep my eyes just ahead of the front wheel or looking about, no need to get depressed about the hills ahead. On a motorcycle, you look as far ahead as possible.
Oh, and that throttle thing is way groovy, man.
The place we stay in has three rooms over a bar/restaurant, we first ate lunch there, very good food, too, and then went down the road to a refugio.
This was extremely rustic, the beams holding the floor above up were whole logs, the beds were very spare, and apparently Ann had spoke to the refugio keeper, who'd said she would turn the heat...and disappeared. We tried napping, a normal event after we find beds to fall into..but two carpenters next door were practicing for a dental exam or something..from the sounds, it was a very serious impacted wisdom tooth extraction. After a bit of this (Brian and Tom pedal off, Brian said he didn't want to know what our dreams were)we go check out the upstairs, and find that the radiators downstairs are fed from a water heater in a cold woodstove, and...when the carpenters are still at it at 6pm, we go snag the rooms over the bar, where we eat another wonderful meal, have some great wines, and fall asleep to the sounds of the river chuckling about a joke it won't share. The birds here are very vocal, and wake us up early..as if Dad would ever sleep in.
There is a really nice old shepard here, Nero, I name him, after his emperial snout, which was seriously bent in an unfortunate accident...with the mangled ear as well, it was amazing how friendly he was. His fur felt like a sheep, quite thick, and never washed, I'm sure. Most animals in Spain are quite leary of humans, which is sad...and why we appreciate the ones who do let us approach.
The woman who asked when we wanted breakfast never appeared, and the dishes from our dinner are still at the table, so we hit O'Cebreiro on cafe con leche y pan.
Typical Spanish breakfast.

Ponferrada

Ponferrada has a huge Templar castle overlooking the town, we go check it out in the morning while Ann gets some work done on her term paper..the castle is in great shape, built in the 1300's, and repaired/remodeled many times..
We leave at noon to Villafranca, a sunny (off & on) ride across this lovely green valley, small farms with neatly plowed rows of peppers, wheat, grapes, and fields upon fields of blood-red poppies. Dad and Ann fell back taking photos of an elderly burro, Tom and Brian got farther ahead...I was all alone on a single lane road surrounded by poppies. Stopping to take a photo of a field of them, a car driving by pulls over, out leaps an older guy who asks to let him take my picture...I'm thinking...sure, take my photo, then take my camera...but no, he knew his way around the Nikon and got a couple shots of me, gave the camera back, shook my hand, saying "Buen Camino!", dove back in his car, and sped off. This all took less than five minutes..it was a bit surreal..
Villafranca is a very old town in the foothills...where we stayed in an old convent. This was a huge building, not sure of it's age, at least 200 - 300 years. We got to town late, so the refugios were full...Ann found us a choice of either the Bates Motel, a scary place by the highway, or a spot with only two rooms, a single and a double. This would require Dad and I to share a bed. I said "give me that guidebook!...what about this convent, it has 150 beds and some private rooms."
BaddaBing!
Really, really nice, huge echoing halls, 15' ceilings, we got lost in there several times. There were chairs on the landings with the ghosts of stern nuns in them. I could hear the "shush" and tapping of the rulers, as the nuns and nun-wannabees bustled about. Given the choice of working in the fields and dropping babies all your life or going to a convent, I can sympathize.
Imagine! Learning to read!
Most women had no choices whatsoever back then, with no food to feed them, it was the convent or die.

Day whatever

What day is it?
If it wasn't for my palmpilot, and the big parade in Astorga today...I sure wouldn't know.
We made it to Rabanal del Camino today, 40k from Hospital de Orbigo.
Pretty amazing considering we did two museum tours in Astorga,, one Roman, one the Camino museum in the Gaudi Palace, AND had a 86€ lunch in some....yes, tiny town. It was Cocida Margata, Ann said it was a stew, but it turned into a massive three course meal, plus desert. We knew we were in for something special when the plates came out...nice plates.
An old woman across the street yelled at the bar and we got instant service, I will post her photo with these words. She had five dogs around her, and a very musically talented bird hanging in a cage in the second story window. One of the dogs I named Leon, because of the cathedral...his balls were so big the first thing I said was...
"Oh My God"..just like the cathedral. Jesu Christe! Watching him walk reminded me of the bells in the cathedral tower..
Clang! Clang!
Anyway, the food was really bizarre, a platter of mystery meats, followed by garbanzo beans and cabbage, followed by a chicken noodle soup-like dish, followed by a desert from heaven, some kind of custard. The entire family served us, we had different faces every course..then, the owner sent out a round of some ice-cold liquor in tiny frozen beer mug-like glasses...he said that would help us make it up the mountain. Urp.
Clang! Clang!
Another 15k after that, we are here, 2/3's of the way up to the "Cruz de Ferro", where pilgrims for centuries have left rocks from home. You won't believe how tall this pile is. Tomorrow we finish the ascent, in 6k we climb about 400 meters, then descend 1000 meters in 10k. Dad is changing his brake pads for this..It is quite cold up here, tomorrow morning will be nippy as hell.
As far as the Gaudi museum..suffice to say that he was a stunning architect, my favorite, and if we can pound the kilometers out and get Santiago early, we may jet to Barcelona for more. His use of arches, pillars, tiles, windows...unreal.
Again, no photos allowed, but Germans a'plenty clicking away.
time for bed....
Here we are in Ponferrada, the other side of the Cruz de Ferro, 1508 meters. This is the spot where pilgrims traditionally leave a small rock from home, mine was from Big River beach. The climb from Rabanal was not too bad, especially since the camino was on a small paved road. It was quite cold, yes. The descent was
rippin'! My max speed was over 55kph, but I tried to hold it to 40 and below.
We are now past the highest point on the Camino, in a beautiful green valley approximately 50k wide, with O'Cebreiro to climb in a few days, then a rolling landscape of hills like Mendocino county.
We are going to look for pizza tonight, and I will try to post this. I decided to spare you Leon's backside, imagination should suffice.

Hospital de Orbigo

Somehow, via the Camino forums, I knew this was a special place...no-one said anything in particular, but the name drew me...as did the entry to our aubergue for the evening.
Walking through the ancient doors, the patio/gardens just pull you in. The host is lancing a walkers blisters, and I wait until he is finished. He stamps my Camino passport, and shows me the rooms..WC here, internet there, washing tubs and clotheslines over there, rooms full of bunks here, here, here, and here. We get a room to ourselves, but it soon has 5 walkers as well. We've a lot of respect for walkers, they travel a difficult path.
Today was pretty easy, a late start, we change plans yet again and cycle out of Leon, not fun. Traffic, smog, beeping drivers, all conspire to keep us on our toes, with sensors on high.
Finally, though...out in the fields again. 41k today, to Hospital de Orbigo. The longest bridge on the Camino is here, and a long story too. The church steeple has four storks nests, all fully occupied. Damn, those are BIG birds! Think small terydoctyls..with beaks and feathers...Seriously, as big as a large turkey's body size, and a wing span that has to be close to 6'.
There is a jousting field, the long story involves jousting, and in two weeks there is a tournament here.
There are Japanese, German, English, American, French, and Eastern European peoples on this camino so far, this particular aubergue was founded by a Dachau camp survivor. Of all the places so far in both our Camino's, this is only second to Granon, the church there was awe-inspiring in its simplicity, grace, and hospitality. I had a prawn and mushroom dish last night in Leon, and I am sure I found the same mushrooms today, they start out as normal white balls boiling out of the ground, and split into petals later-I saw the petal form on a steep slope and would not trade momentum for a photo, but got a good shot the earlier stages later.
Tonight is going to be an earplug night, I can tell. Several people have yet to return, but the symphony is building.
Speaking of which!...there are some very cool frogs making music in the ditches and ponds here, quite unusual...I got a movie of one such ditch so you can hear them.
Cool! The place we are in for coffee and crossaints has a laptop on the bar...no ethernet cable, so I try my WiFinder....bingo, free wireless

Leon

Here we are in the biggest town we will go through on our way to Santiago. We are in a pension, 4 stories of rooms, about 8 per floor, and the matron is on the second floor, across from Dad and I.
We can see the Leon Cathedral spires from our window, over tiny, tiny streets and tile roofs. After the pretentious Burgos cathedral, a monument to conspicuous consumption in the form of the Bishop, I was not prepared to like this one....But.
The first words out of my mouth upon entry were..."oh, my god"
800 years old, with the finest collection of stained glass windows in Spain, and I think Europe, at least original stained glass. It is a bit difficult to photograph something so huge, but here is a detail of one of the doors. Photographs were not allowed inside, this did not prevent the Germans from marching around clicking and flashing...one guy was taking photo's of the 'No photographs' sign...tacky.
Time to head out again, we are walking around looking for good things to eat! Oh yes, and stamps for all these cards I have to write yet.
You may have noticed Tom posting in Spanish so his teacher can see he is not slacking off, Ann probably will as well.
Wow, Friday night in the big city...11pm and this place is just getting going..kids everywhere, people walking, chatting, bars and cafe's and restaurants crowded.
Time to pack up, we may bus out, might train, might cycle...but the mountains are coming.
Food here has been marvelous
TaTa, amigos y amigas!

Day Three

Ok, the official name for the town I so ungraciously called 'turdpile' is Calzadilla de los Hermanillos. Our hostess, the chef/ma from the previous evenings dinner, was way too nice to leave it at that, and besides...the next town deserves the name even more. Mansilla de los Mulas..'Hands of the Mule?'...This was a 22k ride from the last town, across Roman Rubble Roads...politely...a constant butt massage from a sadistic massuese using a bat. Poor Dad & Brian have no suspension, so it is even worse for them. Mansilla is where we get our first flat, Tom picks up a spike through the rear tire. I take the opportunity to look for wireless and notice mule size prints in the cement sidewalk, and later, large piles of green goo in the road, so Mansilla takes the Turd Queen crown. Dad later gets surrounded by sheep, a whole flock being driven through town. One photo in this post is of the town gate, they all had/have walls, and the gates closed and guarded at night. There is a nice scene of
the wheat fields and pilgrims meandering into the distance, and an old bridge, one of many...there is a photo of what the RRR surface looks like. A decently maintained Roman Road has flagstones, we think this is the road base. This was the road from Rome to the mines in Astorga, where we will be in a few days.
We cheat in Mansilla, and catch a bus the final 15k into Leon, the Camino books suggest this, the way in is alongside freeways, through grimy factories, and over bridges with tissue-paper thin spaces to ride. After we saw this from the bus, we aredamn glad! Saturday morning we will do the same to get out of Leon.

El diario de Tom 23/5/2008

Me gusta mucho la comida de Galicia. Mi favorita es el calamari. Me gustan
las conchas también. Salvo la cáscara porque es seña para el Camino de
Santiago. Fuimos a la Catedral de la ciudad de León. La Catedral es muy
grande! Fue construída hace ochocientos anos.

No me gusta la bebida chocolate aquí. La bebida "chocolate caliente" es
muy pesada. Chocolate con churros es muy bueno.

La gente no habla inglés. Es muy dificil para mí hablar el español. Me
gusta mucho hablar pero es muy difícil para mí. Me gusta hablar pero no
aquí. Me gusta hablar mucho en la California.

El diario de Tom 20/5/2008

Ayer fuimos a Ledigos. Fuimos para 48.3 km en las bicicletas para seis
horas. No me gustó el camino porque tiene muchas piedras. Me gusta la
comida. Mi comida favorita es el jamón. Me gusta la bebida también. Mis
favoritas son el café y la coca-cola.

Day Two

We are in Sahagun now, 18k out of Ledigos. We are sitting in the town square, having coffee. Ann and Tom are doing homework, Dad is walking around shooting photos. I still have yet to find an unlocked wifi signal, at least, one strong enough to get these out. I might just use the WiFi-where app as a location finder and walk around until the one free one is strong enough to lock onto.
That didn't work...but I had a nice walk. Sahagun is a nice town, but it is too early to stop. We got picnic stuff, the next town is 25k away, no water, no food. Somewhere in there we stop on the trail and bust out the food..red wine,olives, pate, salami,french bread, cherries, and a strange pear thing. Ann snags an old steel pot and has it dangling from a handlebar the next two days. She also points out some Spanish thyme, and I grab a bunch for my vinaigrette, when I get home to make a batch. We stop in a tiny town..(have I mentioned they are almost all tiny?)and look at the refugio...4 rooms, 2 bunks per room, dark and gloomy...seemed ok to me, 5€! Dad and Ann poopoo this, and find a rose in this turd pile, a huge hostal all empty, built on Grandpa's land, cook is Ma, daughter is the waitress, photos and mementos all over the walls. This was a really nice spot, but was more pricey. The rain started about twenty minutes after unpacking..so far it has only rained at night, nothing i
n the day, and not enough to mud-bog us. We are on a gravel path most of the time, through wheat pastures, on and off old Roman roads...(Roman=Rough)
Here is an old monastary in a copse of trees I forgot to post.
Pretty pooped tonight, so I am zapping this out and bidding you all a good night.

Day One

Cycling, that is...
The blush is off the rose, so to speak...
We did 48.3 kilometers today, I did about 10 more because the sender for the trip computer fell off almost as soon as we hit the dirt...but I did find it, and it is ziptied back on. We are in a very small village called Ledigos, which has the only cat and dog we've met yet in Spain that was not very afraid. The Camino is quite crowded with noisy Germans, we are in an auberge that is 7€ a night, dinner was great, 3 course, two bottles of wine, one of water, five of us, 40€. Dad is giving me a lot of Nikon and photography tips, I am glad he brought his camera this time.

Train ride!

I've loved trains...since I was tiny...
So much better than the bus! The car is full of children from some school, all middle school age, rapid-fire Spanish flying all around. We have to take the local, no bikes allowed on the express, but the stops won't be too bad. This one we are on now goes to Palencia, then we transfer to one up to Fromista, where we left off last year.
These red flowers are everywhere, calling them 'red' does not do them justice...
Well, that was a real thrill...the kids were two groups, boys & girls, apparently on field trip to Madrid from Palencia. One very cute one asked, in perfect English, where we were going, and another asked my name en Español, and they said theirs, which of course I can't remember. It was a fast several hours surrounded bymachine-gun gossip! They played a card game, charades, sang songs, and swapped back rubs, my kinda kids....
We transferred to the Fromista train after the kids got picked up in Palencia by obviously happy parents, and here we are, in the same hostal we stayed in 18 months ago...I can't explain the joy of being back on the Camino, but we are all very happy to be here. Tired, yes...but joyful.
Having said that, g'night!

We are in Madrid, at Carmens apartment..this is the place with the python shower...and the lights on timers....ohhhhh, yes. I remember this!

we are up and at it....long damn trip, crying baby in the seat in front of me on the SF-London flight...yuck. Nice video on demand on the plane, tho...tons of movies to watch. I was a bit groggy when we got here, but slept ok, dad was snoring bigtime, but i just slept on my good ear and let the deaf one deflect him!
plans are to catch the 1:30pm train up to Fromista, probably not get there until 8pm or so tonight.

Carmen and her sisters swooped onto the airport and swept us away, just what we needed!
everyone kisses your cheeks , both sides, men and women...I like that tradition! They are so nice to meet us with all this energy and we need it.

We should be on the Camino tomorrow...

Hope you all are well, we are doing fine here. There are clouds everywhere, and showers occaisonally, but we are going many miles north, weather will be different.

Davy

Here we go again, a year and a half later, back to Fromista and the camino. Same people, same bikes, same mud.
Buen Camino!

David Russell

Footnote 3: Security;
Wow, these people are security concious, the deadbolts are not just one, there are four where we have the one, plus one on the top and bottoms of the door. Every window has a shutter sliding up, usually steel, plus bars, plus locks. In my quest for wireless access to post these musings, I've found three unlocked ones, out of about 50. In the U.S., that statistic would be flipped. One of the unlocked ones would not give me an IP, but I got around that.....every computer available for internet access was like a video game console, a keyboard, a mouse, a screen, and a place to feed euros, no usb ports, no floppies, no way to infect them, other than the internet, that is. Also, no way to post photos. I did not want to inflict two meg photos to you via this blog, all of these have been written and posted with the palmpilot. I have about two gigs of pictures, between Ann, Tom, and I.

David Russell

Footnote 2: Bathrooms, continued;
Spain does have cool toilets, most flush with a button on the tank lid. The button is divided into two parts, about 2/3-1/3. With much experimentation, and several lab exercises, Brian, Dad & I have determined that the smaller button is for liquids, and the larger button is for solids. Dad is not fully convinced.

David Russell

Footnote: Spanish observations;
Be very afraid in the bathrooms!
All the light switches are outside the door, and I think they all are on 15 second timers. This can get messy.
The water pressure here has to be 80lbs or more, combine this with the fact that ALL the showerheads are those flexy handheld thingies, (Carmens was the only properly functioning one)and the curtains are half-size, not fully around the tub/stall, this gets exciting. One showerhead launched itself out of the holder and started whipping around the tub like a very angry steel snake. Oh yes, the hot water is also about a billion degrees. Now...the lights go out....guess where the switch is?
I do like that pressure, however.
Just get your towel, your whip, and your chair, tape that light switch down, and enter. You might want a mop too.


David Russell

Madrid
Well, here we are back at Carmen's place in Madrid. The bikes are boxed up, we did a tour of the Prado museum and old town Madrid yesterday. The last Camino day was Monday, we rode from Burgos, mudville, to Castroguerriz on Sunday, with Carmen along, then to Fromista, approximately midway on the trip to Santiago. Never fear, or, for Spain, be very afraid...The Russell's will return! Monday we rode about 25 miles south towards Madrid along the old Spanish canal system. This sounds more interesting than it turned out...very flat, yes, this was nice, but almost no wildlife could be seen, we did hear some raucous bird, but never saw it. The canal system was built between the 1750's & 1850's, and was finished just in time for the train systems to roll in. All the old neglected buildings, locks, decrepid canals, I found it sad and depressing. All that energy, talent, money, time.....unused.
That's Progress!
About 3pm on Tuesday Brian met us with Carmens car, he went to Burgos on the bus from Fromista to pick it up. We schtuffed 4 bikes and 3 people into it, Carmen, Ann, & Tom. They headed off to Madrid, while Dad, Brian, and I caught a train. I love trains! It was quite fun, but Dad and I had to jump up and move bikes from in front of one door to the other, depending on what side the station's exits were on. We will be taking the train up to Fromista instead of renting cars on our return. Tomorrow we get the bikes to the airport, our departure is 7am Saturday. Madrid is a fun city, but still a city. Today is Columbus Day, a Big Deal here, everything is closed, and thousands of people walking about in the parks. One of the wonderful things about Spain is the obvious love and care for the children. The streets explode with people about 8pm, before then it is dead. There are kids running around everywhere, most attended, but lots just playing with each other. You can really tell the Spanish influence on Mexico in lots of ways, but this was a very pleasant sight.
Thanks for reading my ramblings!
David

David Russell

Tombo
I must say, however much bellyaching, he is a tough trouper. All that mud today would gag a maggot, and Alto de Perdon was a hill to kill, we were all bitching about that one, for days. This is a tough ride, and Tom has done pretty phenTomenally well. He will likely not know for a few years yet what he's actually achieved doing this.

Here he is, on a descent the rest of us walked!

Granon
Today was pretty fun, nice climb out of Najera, and a bit of a fun downhill, but Dad ditched us in Ciruena, which had two Camino paths out. Our plan for losing one another was to meet outside of town...in a nutshell, he rode on to Santo Domingo, which had a famous church we wanted to see, the Cock and the Hen church. I said we should ride to the town square, and I did, and there was his bike..Ann, however, stopped outside of town and called the Gardia on him...she was worried. After lunch, we cycled on 7 more kilometers to Granon, where the alberge was in the church. Just pads on the floor, but a very special place. Dinner was in the main room, table set for 24, but only 22 were there. A great salad, garlic soup with chorizo, bread, and the omnipresent vino tinto. Afterwards, the woman running the place had a little ceremony for us peregrinos, we had a pamphlet with different prayers and psalms, we english speaking peregrinos read one aloud, the spanish another, the italians another, and the germans too. Then she turned out the lights, and passed a lighted candle to the first in line, and we all in turn said something about our pilgrimage. Very Special.

David Russell

Ages
After Granon we pedalled on, bit of a headwind, the rolling hills of La Rioja province crunching beneath the tires. The Camino runs right along a busy highway a lot of the way today, which sucks a little, but the surface is pretty good, and we make the kilos roll behind. The book we have said there were 3 hills to climb, and each bigger than the rest. We didn't want to wake up with those ahead of us, so at 2pm we start up the first. Yes, it is steep, and long, but it seems to be newly bladed. We zoom down the far side, abruptly stopping because the far side was another creekbed...lovely. Pushing a loaded bicycle up a creekbed is a great way to get exercise! NOT
However, after resting a bit in preparation for the last hill, we start off, and it is a no-show! Jota and I race ahead, wide dirt road ripping by, dodging puddles and peregrinos...zoooooooom! At least a halfhour at 15-20mph, we were 2 beers ahead at the next bar by the the time Dad got there, and ready for a nap by the time the lowpokes showed up. Tom seems to get a tummyache when hills show up, but has no problem tossing down icecream and cokes at the stops. We heard Camino gossip about headlice and fleas at this towns alberge, so we push on to the next, in Ages. This one was brand new, new oak bunkbeds, 3 showers... dinner, bed, breakfast - 15 euros! Dinner was a fantastic wine, salad, and a paella made in a pan about 3' across, with matching gas burner. Yumm! I had high hopes for breakfast after that, but the spanish don't believe in a big breakfast, it was cold microwaved coffee, toast, and jam. It had rained pretty hard during the night, and we have heard a lot of horror stories about the mud here, so we set off for Burgos with a little trepidation.

David Russell

Najera
Lovely little town nestled in red, cave speckled rocks, almost southwest feeling. It is a very old town, at least a thousand years. We got the top floor of a tiny hotel, 8 beds, one bath, one room. Tons of dormer windows, at least 6, with views out on ancient rooftops, the kind that great, great, great, great, great, great-granpappy put up hisself. We picked up a hitch-hiker, Jota, who is travelling for a week or so on the Camino for vacation. He has a mountain bike too, but the first day he tried the trail, he got two flats, so was hesitant to travel alone. He is pretty great, and a real help to Ann with all the communication help we are. I must learn more Spanish! On the road a week, and we've done about 138 miles. Should be able to get about halfway at this rate before we have to head back. We are thinking of a spring return for the finale, but we will see.

David Russell

Burgos
A big city, and you all know how much I love them. One big foggy pass to climb, not too bad when you can barely see where you're going, and lots of rocks, so mud is not a problem...until the descent. My bike handles it pretty well, yes it packs up in the gears, etc...but the wheels can turn. Dad and Brian have it the worst, Dad has to carry his, wheels packed so solid with mud they will not turn at all...it takes twenty minutes of scraping to get rotation. We pedal off, onto gravel, then paved roads, mud flying everywhere, like one of those pinwheel sparklers. We stop at the next bar and have some decent coffee and cake. I treat myself to a glug of brandy in my hot chocolate, this turned out to be a damned good idea, because the mud had not made it's final appearance for the day...outside of Burgos, the camino routes itself around the local land fill...lovely. Chewed up road, mud, rocks, our feet looked like blobs, the wheels had so much mud on them small rocks were getting rotated into the mudjams, plastic bags, sticks, you name it. There was a cyclone fence around the perimeter that the camino followed, so I lifted the bike onto the concrete pad it was set in, about a foot wide, with the fence in the middle. Not perfect, the bike had to lean over pretty far so the panniers cleared the fence, but not muddy, either...except the huge blobs called shoes. This went on for about an hour, Dad and Brian ended up taking off their panniers and carrying the mud-packed bikes out. It took another hour at a gas station to hose all the bikes clean. Jota is leaving us here, and Carmen joining us for the last week. Tonight we have a big dinner, and meet Jota's wife, Carmen gets to meet them too, and then tomorrow get out of this noisy place. There is a pretty stupendous cathedral, though!

David Russell

Now we are in Puente la Reina, a rest day. We rode a massive 5 miles today, 22 miles yesterday. We stayed in Uterga last night, a tiny town the other side of Alto del Perdon, a yucky 2590' pass, with no downhill reward after, just steep riverbed, basically, more baseball rocks. We took a detour out to see a 12th century monastery, very beautiful and serene. I can really see why the peasants with barely two sticks to call their own would be so awed by the churches. We are in a running (haha)battle trying to stay ahead of the walkers, Carlos, Frida, the three gorgeous German girls, etc. We zoom past, they catch up, on & on. We are averaging about 25-30 kilometers a day, mostly due to the extreme variety of road! surfaces. The plan is to stick with the old pilgrim trail, and not zip down the highway, even if we don't make it to Santiago. If we hauled ass down the paved road, we miss a lot of history. Let me tell you, Roman roads are great and all, but going very fast is not an option. The little towns are quite lovely, lots of colors, wrought iron railings in front of the windows, covered with drying laundry. Almost all the windows just have massive shutters, no glass, and the doors are huge...it would take quite a few blows with a sword to open them, if you could. Almost everything has defense in mind, where a town is, where doors & windows are, you name it. We are in Irache this Monday morning, where the fountain of vino is. We stayed in a KOA type cabin, couldn't face the next 7 kilos last afternoon. I am finally feeling as if this is survivable, fun, even. There is a lovely sunrise coming up, time to pack the bike!

David Russell

The climb...
they kept telling us to take the autoroute...But No...not the Russells!
I am halfway up, 4 hours, 18 kilometers, yes Jiro, we are walking most of the way. Today is like Little River to Ft. Bragg, but uphill like Van Damme canyon all the way to Noyo Bridge, then 'steep' downhill to Oak St. We are learning to swear in many languages! I drank a 70oz camelbak full already. Weather is perfect.
Ok, two camelbaks. Damn, that was tough. 4000' in 16 kilometers up..at one point my altimeter read a climb rate of 21' per minute...walking. Coming down was almost worse, even steeper, 1500' in 2 kilometers, mostly baseball sized rocks. Tom lost traction, skidded past Brian and I, right near the cliff side. Brain yelled at him to steer into the hill, and he pulled it off! Even missed the trees. A little later I went over the bars, a hidden cliff on the other side of a root..flying like superman. No damage to me or the bike. We got into Roncesvalles about two minutes before full dark, very tired. We had a room reserved, since we knew the hill of pain would be...painfull. The rooms were in a converted convent, quite stylin'.

David Russell

OK, we are in France now, outside St. Jean Pied de Port. We got into town pretty late, driving through Spain is/was pretty cool, ancient ruins interspersed with new construction, and sunflowers EVERYWHERE, acres and acres of them. Every old fort was strategically located, and easily defended. Those Romans knew how to fight!
All the rooms in St. Jean were full, the nice French waitress was calling around for us, and the only other table overheard, and said "We know of a place! We followed them on a route I could never retrace to a house out in the boonies...(what is French for 'boonies?)there are 14 others here, and breakfast is at 8, so it is time to say g'night...Buen Camino!

David Russell

On the plane to Spain! Wow, there are Spanish people everywhere!
We are starting the takeoff roll now. 2 more soreass hours to go, then the real pain begins...500 miles on a bicycle seat! I doubt the seat and I will be on speaking terms by the time I get back..
Hopefully the 5 bikes are ALSO on the plane...'this' plane. You're right, Francie...I have seen the similarity in the people. Time to stow the electronic devices. ta ta!

David Russell

Hello friends and family!

I hope this will be a way for us Peregrinos to keep you home-bodies up to date with our progress...or lack of it.

Never done a blog before!

My father came up with this idea...lets bicycle the Camino de Santiago in Spain. It is an ancient pilgrimage route, dating back the the time of the Crusaders. Most pilgrims walk the route, taking as long as 1-2 months to walk the 500 miles. We, however, are bicycling. We being my father, David, sister Ann, her son, Tom, husband, Brian, and me, Davy. We leave on Sept 23rd for Madrid, via Heathrow in London, and return the middle of October. I think right now the idea is to bring our own bicycles, but hey, we still have a month to change our minds! Buen Camino!