The Way to Land's End

• Starting Point: St Jean Pied de Port
• Ending Point: Orisson
• Daily distance : 4.78 miles (7.7 km)
• Total distance: 4.78 miles (7.7 km)

Note: The internet connection is very slow. Uploading pictures takes a long time and is sometimes not successful. So I’ll probably only post a few. It is a shame because the hike has been gorgeous. I will post more when I get better connectivity. 

The sound of angels awoke us this morning. Our albergue host played a  CD of angelic choir music to arouse us from our rest. We made our way down the stairs to a beautifully laid out breakfast. It was a serene and peaceful way to begin the day. 

I officially weighed my bag in the Pilgrims Office before heading out. It came in at 22.5 lbs with water!! That really surprised me as my scale back home had me around 19 lbs with water. I have a feeling I’ll be offloading some items in my backpack soon. 

As we headed out of town, we crossed paths with a military processional of some sort. The members of the processional were in traditional garb and sang songs. 

The hike was challenging, but not too hard. There were several quite steep sections and I had to stop frequently to catch my breath. I did notice my heel slipping some in my shoe which caused a hot spot. As soon as I felt it, I stopped and taped it up. It’s a good thing I did because it was red and it would have blistered. My hypothesis is that my shoes are looser here than in Florida due to the humidity. I trained months in these shoes and they fit me very well. Perhaps my feet swell more in heat and humidity. Or perhaps it’s just the incline. At any rate, I need to watch it closely and keep my heel taped. 

The views on the hike were gorgeous – green mountains, expansive skies, sheep and cattle. The temperature was perfect on the way up, cool with a slight breeze. 

When we arrived in Orrison we met a couple from Ormond Beach. We came all the way to France and met people 20 minutes from our home. What a small world! We had a bowl of soup on the terrace overlooking the Pyrenees and then made our way to our bunks. 

We are sleeping in a room with 5 bunk beds. We set up our bedding and then the rain started coming in and the temperature dropped. We layered on some clothes and went to the main room for coffee. We shared a table with a man from Germany with the most sparkling blue eyes. He is a roofer who works six months of the year in North Germany and travels the other six months. He usually visits warm places in Asia and likes quiet retreats. One year he spent weeks in a silent retreat at a temple and we talked some about meditation and our busy minds. 

Afterwards, I laid down for a nap and to write. The Orrison stop consists of just one building, so there is not a lot to do or see here. It is a highly suggested stop though as the next stop is another 10 miles in some tough terrain. And it’s good to take the first few days slow to allow the body to adjust. I am glad I heeded the advice as I can already feel the muscles in my legs getting tight. I popped a couple of Advil to hopefully head off the pain. 

After my nap, I showered and got ready for dinner. I sat next to a family of three hiking together. The mom is British, the father Scottish and they live in Germany. The daughter grew up in Germany but now lives in Switzerland. We talked about the different regions in Germany and their thoughts on the current refugee crisis. 

Dinner was roasted chicken, pea and potato medley, bread, wine and Basque cake for dessert. Basque cake is a speciality of the region and tasty, though I’m unsure how to describe it other than it has a soft texture and almond flavoring. Next, we went around the table to introduce ourselves. Again, many folks from all over the world – USA, Britian, Germany, Canada, Australia, Korea, Signapore, Switzerland, Holland, Italy, Brazil. 

Earlier in the day, I sort of clammed up around my Korean bunk mates. Most of my 10 bunk mates tonight are from Korea. I’m not quite sure why I didn’t open up to the group …though if I’m honest it was because I’m not as familiar with their culture. They seemed shy, so I was shy. As one Korean woman’s turn came around, she ended her introduction by saying,  “Please talk to me”. It nearly broke my heart. I realized that we had both been scared to talk to each other and that I mistook the group’s shyness as guardness and so had put up my own defenses. As we settled in for bed after dinner, I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me. We talked about our training for the hike and discussed the terrain in Korea and Florida. Then, I told her about my CPAP machine and how I wear a mask at night to breath. From under her pillow, she pulled out her own mask. She needs to wear one for her allergies. We shared a laugh. When it comes down to it, we are all so much more alike than different. 

We are taking today to recover from jet leg before starting out on our hike tomorrow. This free day also gives us the opportunity to explore the charming starting point of the Camino Frances route, St Jean Pied de Port. 

We began by having breakfast at a small cafe. There we met two ladies from Ireland and a gentleman from Holland. The gentleman is completing the Camino to fulfill a promise he made to himself when undergoing treatment from leukemia. He swore that if he survived cancer that he would walk from his home all the way to Santiago. He conquered the cancer seven years ago and he is fulfilling his vow over several years. Last year he walked through France and this year he will walk through Spain. 

Laura and I then walked through town, taking in the many lovely views of the river, mountains, the citadel, charming storefronts, ancient walls and unique doors. 

We took a path from the citadel down to the river and encountered some very steep stairs. It gave us a little taste of the climb we will be undertaking tomorrow. Our knees were aching from the descent. 

We stopped by the town church to light a candle for our pilgrimage. A beautiful statute of Mary overlooked the candles lit by pilgrims from all around the world. 

For lunch, Laura and I indulged in crepes – one savory and another sweet. The savory crepe was filled with rice and covered in curry chicken and raisins. The sweet crepe was chocolate and raspberry. Decadent hot chocolate completed the meal. 

After lunch we checked into our new albergue (the one that was canceled the night before) and washed some laundry. 

In the evening, we joined with the other 18 pilgrims in our albergue for dinner. Many countries were represented – France, USA, Canada, Mexico, Germany and Korea. Introductions were made, wine drank and new friends made. Dinner included soup, salad, potato tortilla, tiramisu and tea. Our host grew up in Basque (the region of France and Spain we are in) and he speaks four languages (Basque, Spanish, French and English). We kept him busy translating between all of us. I was especially touched by the Korean family – a father and his young daughter (11) and son (13). He told us that his work keeps him so busy that he felt he was missing his kids grow up. So he took a 6 month leave of absence to travel with his children. They are hiking the Camino together and then visiting England and Italy. 

I think I am beginning to see the enchantment of the Camino. I thought it would be mostly about the hike. And I’m sure there will be an incredible sense of accomplishment when we meet our physical goals.  But right now I’m fascinated with the people. What an incredibly diverse and interesting group of fellow adventurers. 

After a day of planes, trains and one bus, we finally made it to St Jean Pied de Port. We had a brief three hour lay over in a downtown Paris train stain, where we decided to forego the typical tourist magnets in favor of food. (Yes, I am a foodie so prepare yourself for lots of food pictures on this trip!) We had a delicious crossiant and espresso followed by quiche Lorraine and a freaking amazing pistachio maccaroon.

We also had a brief layover in Bayonne, France at the bus station. Here we began seeing other Camino hikers with their signature backpacks with the scallop shell. We met a couple from Texas and Rosemarie and Marie from Seattle, workout buddies who trained on Mt. Rainer. 

As we weaved along the mountain roads into St Jean Pied de Port we were greeted by fields of sheep and cattle. We were delighted to witness a sheep dog race in pace with our bus as it rounded up a herd of sheep. We then caught our first look at the Pyrenees mountains. Wow, they are beautiful, magnificent and huge! A bit of worry starts to creep in that these Florida legs are going to be in for a hurting.

When we arrive in St Jean, we head to a map to figure out how to get to our albergue (Spanish hostel).  We met a fellow pilgrim from Holland named Vincent at the map and worked together to find our way. 

When Laura and I arrived at the albergue where we had reservations for a room and dinner, we savored the delicious smell wafting outside the door. However, we were quickly disappointed. Through some kind of error when I wrote about our expected delay due to Irma, our first night reservation had been  canceled and they were now full. We were exhausted from traveling over 24 hours, hungry and ready to rest. We tried to remain positive as we went next door to the pilgrims office to get assistance and recommendation for another albergue. The office worker gave us a recommendation, stamped our pilgrims passport and sent us on our way.

We arrived at the new albergue to quite a surprise. In the entrance, were Rosemarie, Marie and Vincient. Out of all the albergues in town, we had managed to catch up with all the pilgrims we had befriended. The owner of the albergue was so interesting. His name was Eric and he stated that he is the only albergue in town owned by a previous pilgrim. He was so very passionate about ¨The Way¨, as he called it. He waxed poetic about how it is a life changing adventure, how it will teach us to let go of control, how we will really get to know ourselves. He gave us many tips, such as to listen to our bodies and to drink, drink and drink (water, that is). Eric told us about how he was a white collar worker in Paris with lots of money and that his journey on The Way changed him and now he lives with little money, running an albergue and he is the happiest he has ever been. It was a very touching introduction to our journey and it felt as though it was a message meant for us, especially the letting go of control part, as we had quickly learned our best laid plans are subject to change. From Irma to canceled hostels, we are getting a crash course in learning to let go of expectations and live in the moment.

We then found our room, met our bunk mates for the night (a couple from San Fransciso), found some dinner and took a quick stroll around town. As we looked up, there hovering about us, illuminated and shining, was an image of Mary on the church tower. It was a beautiful ending to our arrival.

There has been a tiny kink in our best laid plans – Hurricane Irma. Laura and I were scheduled to depart for our Camino adventure this upcoming Monday. However, the airline canceled our flight due to the inclement weather. We are now scheduled to depart on Wednesday, arriving in Paris early Thursday morning. Unfortunately, this means we will not have the opportunity to explore Paris those first couple of days as we had planned.  C’est la vie. Instead, we will take a train directly to St Jean Pied de Port to begin our hike. Though I am a bit disappointed I will not have the chance to roam the streets of Paris, devour crossiants and delve into mountains of cheese, I am incredibly grateful we had the flexibility built into our schedule so that we can still start our Camino on schedule. So, as we wait on Irma to make her big debut here in Florida, I will be making my last minute preparations, sending up my prayers for the safety of my fellow Floridians and hoping for a speedy recovery to all those affected!

My love of travel began the moment I took my first plane ride to visit my father in Alaska when I was only 5 years old. He moved to Fairbanks after the divorce and my sister and I would visit him each summer. Those were the days when you could smoke cigarettes on the airplane, you were served a decent meal and you felt more like a special guest than cattle. Preparing for that first trip, my Grandmother purchased a large trunk for us to fill with two months full of clothes for two young girls. Something about that trunk seemed exotic, beckoning me to an Alaskan adventure. The clanking metal latches, heavy lid, lock and key signaled an important journey. We carefully considered what we would need over the summer….clothes, favorite stuffed animals, books, cassette tapes, trinkets from Florida to give our new step-mom and sister.

We used that trunk for many summer trips to Alaska over the years. It became a totem of our beloved trips to visit our father. And now as I prepare to embark on the Camino, I am again contemplating the importance of travel gear. Whereas the trunk was emblazoned in my memory due to its impressive size and grandeur, my current gear will hopefully be remembered for its minimal size and weight. The backpack I selected is the Osprey Kyte 36L. Before water, my packed bag weighs 17 lbs. Weight is very important on my long journey. I am told that every ounce will feel like a pound after days on the trail. So, I have researched and selected only the most necessary items.

Inside the main compartment there is a blue shower bag, light blue shoe bag, green dry bag, another larger dry bag with two compression bags inside and my sleeping bag in a compression sack.

Within the blue shower bag are the following items: Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo/soap bar in a tin, towel, washcloth

Within the light blue shoe bag are my hiking sandals and a pair of cheap flip flops for the shower.

Within the green dry bag is my travel size CPAP machine, tubing, mask, filters, extension cord and plug adapter. I have sleep apnea and require this machine to breathe throughout the night. Without it, I snore like a sailor. I’m sure the other pilgrims I will be bunking with will appreciate me packing it, although it adds 2.5lbs to my weight.

The large compression bag contains my extra set of clothes – pants, leggings, long sleeve shirt, short sleeve shirt, lightweight jacket, scarf, bra, underwear (2), socks (2), toe sock liner.

The smaller compression bag contains a sundry of items – Earplugs, hair conditioner, laundry soap, sunscreen, Body Glide, Compeed, Leukotape, band-aids, ziploc baggies, battery bank, portable keyboard/charger, iphone charger, hair ties, hairband, lotion, pole tip covers, comb, toe nail clippers, safety pins, floss, spork, twist ties and flashlight bug.

My sleeping bag is lightweight and will be inside of the dry compression bag.

Other items that will be carried on my person or in small compartments on the bag include – 2L water bottle, guidebook, Spanish phrase book, coin purse, chapstick, fanny pack, fingerless gloves, sunglasses, headphones, raincoat, pilgrims passport, passport, money belt, toilet paper, bandana, hat, pStyle (a device to assist us ladies in peeing upright).

The only items not pictured are the rain cover for my backpack and a small rock that I will carry with me to leave at the Cruz de Ferro, a ritual pilgrims perform on the Camino.

My goal weight was 15lbs, so I am a bit over what I would like. But I have carefully considered each item and feel good about my selections. What do you think? Am I missing anything? Is there an item you think may be a luxury I can offload? I would love to hear feedback.

Departure is in 32 days! Nervous excitement is beginning to set in. My adventure is calling.

Thank you for reading!

When I was four years old, my younger sister was hospitalized for 2 months with meningitis. My mother kept vigil at the hospital day and night and I was left in the care of my father. He worked as a delivery driver for a propane company during this time and I accompanied him on his route.  I recall the thrill of driving in that big truck, bouncing around in the seat next to him. Dad would turn up the radio loud, making up silly lyrics to the music, inducing fits of giggles from me. Although I’m sure I was confused by my mother and sister’s absence, I was enthralled to be part of my dad’s grown-up world. Living and working in a small town, the customers knew my dad personally and our current circumstances. They were understanding of me tagging along and would often offer me treats of cookies and candy. On one particular day, we stopped at the house of an elderly woman. Dad swung me out of the truck and into the driveway. As he went behind the truck to connect the hose, I made my way to the front door to greet the customer. Suddenly from around the side of the house, a huge shaggy dog ran at me, jumped on me, knocked me over and proceeded to, in my four year old mind, maul me to death. I shrieked in terror, scared out of my wits. Of course, my father bolted over and rescued me from the dog’s sloppy kisses, but that initial terror lodged itself into the reptilian part of my brain…and thus began my lifelong fear of strange dogs.

Fast forward 20 years later….I am walking after work in my neighborhood to unwind, jamming out to Billy Idol on my CD player (yes, that’s right…a CD player!!) All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow lunge at me. Something had bit by hand. I turn while at the same time pulling off my headphones, my heart beginning to beat wildly. A huge pit bull had charged at me and was now at my heels nipping at me. I look down at my hand and I am bleeding. The portable CD player crashes to the asphalt as my body begins to tremble. The barking is ferocious, teeth are bared. About a half block down the street, a young girl is playing in her drive way. I scream out to her and tell her to go inside to get her parents for help. I know that I shouldn’t run. I back away slowly and yell “NO, GET” in my most stern tone. The dog charges at me again. I kick at it, make contact and it backs away. I know that if the animal knocks me down, it could maul me.  The girl’s mother arrives with a broom and the dog runs off as it realizes it is now outnumbered. And so, my fear of strange, roaming dogs is once again imprinted in my brain.

There are many dangers to be aware of when hiking the Camino. Forums warn of bedbugs in the mattresses which can leave nasty, itchy welts on your skin. Fellow hikers post messages on the forum to let others know which albergues (the Spanish equivalent of a hostel) have hosted such pests so they can be avoided.  Recently, a couple hiking the trail posted a story about being robbed by two men who hid behind some trees along the trail. Unscrupulous characters are aware that us pilgrims travel with cash and as such, bandits have been a nuisance on the trail for centuries.  The couple was unharmed, quite resilient in their attitude and continued along the Way. And on the forum for women pilgrims, there has been a recent report of a flasher.  Lastly, and most scary to me, I have read about stray dogs that roam Spanish villages and harass pilgrims. Oh boy!

But like a good Boy Scout, I will be prepared. I am spraying my backpack and the outside of my sleeping bag with a spray that supposedly repels bedbugs. It is a best practice to withdraw money from ATMs in the villages every couple of days, limiting the amount of cash that can be stolen if robbed. And I am taking a class in a couple of weeks on women’s self defense. As for those stray dogs…I will be carrying hiking poles to defend myself, if need be.  As I learned during the pit bull attack, though my fear may cause me to shake, keeping a cool head and relying on numbers (i.e. travel in groups) are my best defenses.

All in all, the trail is well traveled, hikers travel in groups and look out for one another. The rate of crime is quite low for the number of pilgrims that travel through. Besides, misfortune can happen at home too. To me, it would be a far greater misfortune to let fear rob me of a great adventure!

Thank you for reading!

 

The countdown clock on my phone reminds me that my trip along the El Camino de Santiago is 3 months, 7 days away.  Over the past couple of months, I have held fairly steadfast to my walking schedule…typically 5 miles per day with a long walk of 8 miles squeezed in as time permits.  However, the typical Florida late afternoon summer showers have begun and wreaked havoc on my momentum. I feel some concern that I am not training hard enough and irritation that I have lost my stride.

My son recently recommended an outstanding book to me entitled “The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business” by Charles Duhigg. In it, the author breaks down scientifically how habits are formed. Generally, there is a cue and reward. For example, he gives the history of how we have formed the habit of brushing our teeth. Before WWI, only 7% of households had a tube of toothpaste in the cabinet. An advertising executive developed a campaign that took into account human nature’s need for a cue/reward system to develop a habit. He used advertisements to remind consumers about the film on their teeth and showed pictures of  beautiful smiles to demonstrate the effect of brushing their teeth. There we have our cue (filmy teeth/funky breath) and the reward (beautiful teeth/fresh breath).  The author goes on to state that a final piece is needed….a way to turn that reward into a craving. In the case of the toothpaste company’s campaign, they were successful because they added an ingredient into their formula that caused a minty, tingly sensation. Consumers began to crave this fresh minty tingle and thus a societal habit was formed. After the 10 year advertising campaign by Pepsodent, 65% of U.S. households had toothpaste in their homes.

This story got me to thinking….can I design a cue/reward system to help myself develop better habits in life? And most immediately, how can I use these guidelines to develop a habit to train for my Camino? I could set out my hiking clothes next to my bed each night. In the mornings, the clothes would be my cue to walk.  My reward can be a delicious breakfast afterwards or the endorphins generated from physical activity.  I’m not so sure though…this seems too simplistic. We are such complex creatures. In the moments of early morning, the comfort of my bed can easily outweigh the pleasures of a scrumptious breakfast!

My stagnation in my training schedule is a reflection of the general stagnation I feel in life right now. I had a lot of momentum going in my early adult years. I developed strong habits to accomplish those goals that were so important to me – raising my son to be a well-rounded, loving human being, completing my education and rising in my career. My son is now a grown man that I am incredibly proud of. I completed my MBA and several professional certifications. And while I am proud of my career, the daily work grind has become a bore to me. Those goals that kept me grounded most of my adulthood have evaporated and now that I’ve rounded the corner of mid-life, what goals am I working towards?  Retirement? Ugh! How dreary.

The one thing I am pretty sure of in this upcoming Camino adventure is that approximately 45 days of getting up each morning, walking between 15-20 miles, arriving at a new town, showering, washing clothes, eating dinner, sleeping and doing it all over again, is going to shake up my routine and give me the opportunity to develop some new habits. And at the very least, it will give me some quiet time and space to think on what new goals I want to work towards in life.

In the meantime, I think having more specific, detailed daily goals will help keep me on track. I will walk 5 miles per day on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. On Tuesdays & Thursdays, I will go to the gym and do 45 minutes of elevation work on the treadmill by walking at an increasingly steep incline. Sundays will be my long walks.  I will start out at 8 miles, increase to 10 miles on June 25th, 12 miles on July 9th, 13 miles on July 30th, 14 miles on August 6th, 15 miles on August 20th and my last long walk will be on September 3rd at 16 miles. I will begin adding my backpack on the August 13th walk. Monday is a rest day.

Any ideas on good rewards to keep me motivated? Perhaps if I meet all my goals for the week,  I will go out after the long walk on Sundays for a decadent dessert?  Or perhaps just the peace of mind in knowing I’m as prepared as I can be will be the best motivation….

 

 

I grew up in church. Some of my earliest memories are of the little Pentecostal church off of Deen Road in my hometown. The church of my childhood was picturesque; it was a white, one room sanctuary with wooden pews and a steeple. It is where my parents were married. It is where I fell asleep on my Papa Nipper’s chest, listening to the gurgle of his heartbeat as the pastor preached his version of salvation. It is where I first encountered the Divine. I’m not sure we can ever really know God except through other people. And that is the Divine I encountered at that little Pentecostal church of my childhood. It was there in those wooden pews that a little girl saw adults cry tears of repentance, lift their arms in praise and hug each other in love and fellowship. The vulnerability, the recognition of our human needs and frailty, the reaching out to meet another in that moment – that is the Divine.

And that little church is where I first learned my Bible stories. One of my favorite Bible stories was about Ruth and Naomi, a foreign woman and her mother-in-law. In the story, Naomi moves to Moab with her husband and two sons due to a famine. There in Moab, Naomi’s two sons marry Moabite women, Ruth and Orpah. After a time, Naomi’s husband and both sons die. Naomi exhorts Ruth and Orpah to return to their families to find new husbands. But Ruth replies, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.” Ruth accompanied Naomi back to Bethlehem, where she married Boaz and bore a child Jesse, part of the lineage of Christ.

As I prepare for this pilgrimage, this story keeps coming back to me.  I will be joining my mother-in-law, Laura, on a trip which is holy for her. Laura is devoutly Catholic and this journey to St. James tomb is deeply tied to her faith. Like Ruth, I am not of my mother-in-law’s faith. I am a foreigner to her in that respect. But like Naomi, she has welcomed me into her family with open arms anyways. And just as Ruth vowed, I vow to Laura that on this journey where you go, I will go and where you stay I will stay. And your God will be my God.

I plan on attending Mass with Laura each evening while we are hiking. I am honored to join her on this trip of faith. And though I am a long way away from that little church of my childhood, I am hopeful that I will encounter the Divine along the road, or perhaps in a cathedral on The Way to Land’s End.

 

Yesterday I received quite a pleasant surprise when my best friend Jamie shared my blog on Facebook.  An outpouring of support and interest from people I have never met filled my inbox and newsfeed. I had assumed only family and close friends would take an interest in my trip.  When one gentleman pointed out that my blog contained no reference to my name or who I am, I chuckled to myself about the oversight. So without further ado, let me introduce myself –

My name is Michelle McLaren. I live in Daytona Beach, Florida with my husband Bryan and our 3 four-legged children (Django, Macy & Sky). We also have 4 two-legged children between us:  my son Todd (21) who lives in Pennsylvania and my three beautiful bonus daughters Cassandra (18) who lives in Arizona, Hailey (16) and Cassie (15) who both live in Davenport, Florida. Bryan and I own and operate a small retail business. When we are not working, you can usually find Bryan and I spending time with our family and friends, traveling, enjoying some live music somewhere or perhaps binge watching one of our favorite TV shows.

Now you know all my stats and official titles – wife, mother, business owner, music lover and TV junkie. I will soon be adding Camino Hiker to that list. I look forward to sharing that journey with all of you

Thank you for reading!