Day 3 Camino de Santiago July 8th 2012

Camino de Santiago   Day 3
Happy Birthday, Mom!!

Today started like most of the others will:  in a dorm bed with about 20 other Pilgrims at 6:00AM.  I haven't slept in 5 days because of the arm injury.  Don't know what is wrong, but it throbs at night.  Don't let anyone fool you:  47 Ibuprofen is not the same as a thimble of heroin!
    We hiked for about 8 hours as we will everyday.  I'm thinking of staying in a hotel in one of the bigger cities which I should reach in about two weeks.  Maybe go to the hospital and see if I can get an X-ray...or heroin.

     Hiked through some beautiful country today, rivers, wildflowers, etc.  Carried the pack the entire day.  It was... tiring and my shirt is soaking wet but I love it.  I love the feeling of exhausting myself and hopefully, the positive effect it will have on my body.  Ha!  Is a busted knee a positive thing??

 









We made it to the town of Arre, which is the home of bicyclist legend, Miguel Indurain, who won the Tour de France 5 times in a row!  We stayed in a church built in the 12th century tonight.  Way cool, and kind of spooky to wander around in at 4:00 in the morning with the minimum of light.

It was run by a bit of a crazy man.  He had a little Barney Fife in him, but he lightened up after awhile.  He wouldn't let us in when we arrived at 3:00 even though the sign on the big door said, Open - 12:00 - 5:00, so we waited, and waited, and waited, until 3:30 for him to open the door and even then, only five at a time.  Whatever! Liverpool Kevin, Toledo Luis, Belgium Tina, South Korea ^#&, Toledo Carmen and Rebecca.    Good group.  Teachers, school psychologist, social workers and student.


  In front of the church was a statue of KingSancho VII who was king from 1194- 1234.  He was known as the "wise" and the "strong", and for giving himself wonderful titles.

Kevin fell in the shower and got a three inch gash that bled like a stuck hog.  He had to go to the emergency room and get stitches.  We did our best to stop the blood but wow!  It was a sobering experience.  I have named him, " Kevin the Cut!"
 


                                                                                                                                                             Because it is Sunday and because we're only 5 kilometers from the huge San Fermin Running of the Bulls festival in Pamplona, the town of Arre was deserted.  I met up with about 10 "kids" from Denmark, South Korea, and the USA, and caught a bus to Pamplona to "feel" the festival spirit.  Impossible to find a room in Pamplona for less than $500 a night.   That's a bit out of my budget and not exactly the  Pilgrim spirit. Many people slept in the park, which smelled quite a bit like a urinal.  Can't imagine why.

To get to Pamplona, we took city bus #4 and apparently we weren't the only people with this idea.  The busses were jammed and it felt like I was taking the subway to a baseball game at Jacob's Field.  Tons of fun!
Very cute kid - lousy drummer!



   



                                                 Pamplona was so much fun!  The whole city is into it.  Everyone wears red and white and a sash or neckerchief.  Lot's of small marching bands, street musicians etc.

I'm not sure how they knew that I was a tourist. Perceptive, those Spaniards!

I asked a policeman how difficult it would be to be able to see the bulls run the next morning.  About nine bulls run a day, different ones everyday...because the previous nine are on the menu.   He said that we would need to get to Pamplona at 3AM for a good seat, and 5AM if we wanted to strain to see.  That was NOT going to happen.  We would be walking into town and it would take an hour and a half.
 

What a blast to the senses, especially sight, sound and smell.  Can't say that smell was one of my favorite, however, sound was awesome.  So many mini-marching bands, street musicians, and street performers.

 The three Spaniards - Luis, Rebecca, and Carmen and one Englishman , Kevin the Cut, decided to try to see the bulls running in the morning but we would leave at 6:30 and hopefully, with some luck, be there by 8:00AM and by a miracle,  actually get a glimpse of the bulls.

All great change in America begins at the dinner table.

Ronald Reagan

Day 2 Camino de Santiago July 7th, 2012

Camino de Santiago Day 2 July 7th, 2o12

What will 10E buy a feller for a night.  Quite a place to stay, actually.  Several stories high with roughly 100 per floor and eight sinks, eight showers, several toilets.   All spotlessly clean.   2 bunk beds in a 3 walled room.  Lights out at 10PM and on at 6AM.    I have had a lot worse places for a lot more money!

   


We had a wonderful Pilgrim's fare for only 9E!
Trout!
 Pasta!
Wine!
Yogurt.
















                                                         

6:00 AM - rise and shine
7:00AM - oh boy, can't wait to start walking.... 790 kilometers!!!  Thanks for telling me!!
Funny, I have been trying to practice my Compound Effect principle,which says to break giant tasks into the tiniest of tasks.  So I think.  Okay I must think of only this day, and then just this hill, okay, and just the cow on the right, okay, and... 790!!!  Back to square one!

   Okay!  One hay bale, two hay bales, three hay bales...  790 k!!!!!  That's like 8 gazillion hay bales!! Thanks for that very important information!  Sometimes in life, it's best to be ignorant.  

What's different about this trail than say hiking up Kilimanjaro or the Chilkoot Pass, or any other trail I've been on, is that there is an inn/auberge/hostel/hotel at the end of the day.  And it even gets better - there is a restaurant/bar every so many miles in between.  What I would have given for a cold drink 1/2 way up Kili!!  It makes me want to say, give me a few more of those k's...and a Heinekin !!!

Kinda neat to think that we're walking over the stream that Hemingway writes about in The Sun Also Rises, which is a wonderful book if you want to read about a bunch of drunks who can't put 2+2 together and figure out that alcohol is the root of the problems or at least exacerbates the problem.  

Unfortunately, not all pilgrims make it to Santiago, or home for that matter.  This is a shrine/memorial dedicated to a Japanese pilgrim who died along the way.  

Just to end on a good note, this is a picture of the table I sat with for trout dinner on the first night.  The girl to my right is Stephanie from the Black Forest, Germany, the guy to her right is Daniel from Holland, his father Carl is across the table and Harry also from Holland is to my left.  Fun joking and talking them about the world.

There's no present. There's only the immediate future and the recent past - George Carlin 

George Carlin

Day 1 Camino de Santiago July 6th, 2012

I'm totally skipping writing about Morocco for now and will fill in those wonderful days when the opportunity arises.  But for now, it's too much effort to keep both a journal of the Camino de Santiago experience and to Blog it, so here we go:

There are at least six different Caminos in Europe, some starting as far away as Germany and the Netherlands, but they all converge at the small French town of St. Jean Pier du Pont (St. John at the foot of the Pass) in the Pyrenees.

The city is off the beauty charts.  If I ever break the law, it would be a good place to start looking for me.  I had a day to burn because I had hurt my arm and needed to go to the doctor.  At first I was upset, but as is often the case when we initially think something is bad...it turns out good.  It poured down raining, making what would have been my first day extra tough.  So... thank you bad arm + I got to go see a French doctor for 23E.

It is there that the pilgrims descend on the city from all over the world to hike the 800 k or about 500 miles to city all the way across northern Spain in the town of Santiago de Campostela.  It was here that St. James body was brought all the way from the Holy Land and buried in secret.  When they found him 1100 years later, he became a cause for pilgrims to walk across Europe.  They also came to fight agains the Moors, who were Muslim.  In St. Jean, pilgrims have a dinner in the Auberge they are staying in, kinda like an official goodbye.  People state their reasons for hiking the Camino, toasts are made and all in all, it produces a sense of camaraderie.
Talk about a fascinating experience:  The guy with his back to you, a German named Lucas, and his girlfriend Athena?? from Norway had been living in Mexico for two years.  There were three Koreans, three people from France, one from Germany and a lady from Holland.  Any guesses who couldn't speak one word of English - T'weren't the Koreans!  The place was spotless and the hosts were former pilgrims who were running the auberge for 3 weeks.  Very nice people serving traditional Basque fare.

 





 While on the trail, I saw the Mother Mary!  Okay....so does every other pilgrim, so cancel those tickets!

Okay stop talking, "Here comes another tourist!  The trail passes through some seriously gorgeous farm land and forest!  Some looked like Sherwood Forest, other land looked like Switzerland!

Sometimes, the beauty was too strong and I had to rest and give praise for being able to experience so many beautiful vistas!!

One has to be careful.  The Moors are famous for their ability to camflaouge themselves!  This scheme almost got me!

There are many signs along the way to mark the trail.  The most common is a seashell which shows all the trails in Europe converging into one at St. Jean, on the Spain/France border.  Sometimes they use a yellow arrow, painted on the road.  

We were very fortunate that we had no rain, but the remnants of the clouds made for beautiful vistas.  The temperature was about 50 - 55 degrees and was perfect for hiking.  A hiker is constantly passing other “pilgrims”, talking for a few minutes, and then wishing each other a ”Bien Camino”.  

Sheep and goat have their own unique way of marking the trail for Pilgrims!

Tales tell the story that nine women in this forest that were burned to death because they were accused of being witches... Right!  Did it occur to these superstitious folks that if they had been witches, then the accusers would be toads by now?  Maybe they were bitches, but that still is no cause for burning them...well most of the time anyway.

I loved this part of the trail, it was covered in thick leaves.  Like walking on a Dr. Scholl's cushion for a couple of miles.  Today’s hike was about 2/3 pavement and 1/3 natural.  Up up and up some more.  The last 3.5 k were the toughest.  Straight downhill  Knees felt like jumping out of my pants.

Gorgeous scenery.  I would advocate Spain as a country to visit to anyone.  Beautiful beaches.  Quaint villages,  Modern cities.  Great tourist attractions.  It has everything but a desert!  

There are 2 water stops on the first day.  This one is supposedly where Roland,one of Charlemagne's generals was killed.  It was revenge by the Basque for him burning down the town of Pamplona (for which the bulls all cheered!).

So in memory of Roland, this watering hole has been named after him.  Lucky fella!

At the end of the day we ended up in Ronceville, Spain.  Not much of a town, but enough.  Three hotels/hostels all with bars and a Pilgrim’s Menu which offered pasta, yougurt, and trout.  

As for me... it had almost everything but one, that I required.

Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.

Will Rogers

Marrakech, Morocco - June 14, 2012

 

In search of the Riad Fantasia

      Arriving in Morocco, I had been warned many times about the people (touts) who press you for any and everything.  Sure enough, as soon as you walk off the plane and into the terminal, if you don't look like you know where you are going, must be a hormone emitted, then someone will be on you like white on rice.  If a kid comes up and says, "you look for taxi?" and you say yes, or even no, they will walk you to the taxi stand and then ask for money, as if they did something that you couldn't have done on your own.
    I knew that the taxi should cost between 75 and 150 dirhams so I had a place to start the haggling - 50 dirhams.  The first offer to me was 200 dirhams and when he could see that I wasn't going to pay, he knocked it down to the bargain price of 150.  At about that time a local bus #19, which went directly to the town square had just stopped at the bus stop, so my bargaining power greatly increased.  His next offer of 125 was rejected and I said, never mind, I'll just take the bus.  It was a bluff.  I had no idea where to go when I would be dropped off in the medina (old town)  It's not like maps really exist.  Even if  the maps did have names on them, so what, the streets don't.  And there are so many alley ways and 1/2 streets.  It's like someone took the city planner's maps, put them on a blender, and pushed frappe.
     So I had agreed to 100 dirhams about 9 to the dollar and off we went.  He drove like someone had told him that his house was on fire.  I must say that my first 40 minutes in Morocco were just about enough to make me say, "Hey, Mr. Andretti, please turn around and take me back to the airport.  It's time for me to go Stateside."  But I didn't.  I figured, it was... an experience.  It was only 4:00 in the afternoon, and I figured that I would have about five hours to find my Riad (home turned into a hotel) before it got dark.    
    The streets looked like something out of Blood Diamond.  Like a movie set.  I knew my Riad was just off the Square, the Djeema, and inside the old city walls.  But with a million people, finding it on my own was not going to happen.  After 30 minutes, the cabbie stops at the end of an alley and here's the conversation:
cabbie - "Here Hotel Fantasy"
me -  "So it is.  So it is... but I said Riad Fantasia!"
cabbie - same same.
me - nice try Amos, but nope.  Keep driving!
cabbie - looks at me like I'm going to get out.  Then he makes a motion for me to get out.
me - I stay where I am. Smile at him and say, "No money, if I get out!"  You don't know where the Riad Fantasia is, do you?"
cabbie -  yelling out the window in Arabic, "Ahkmed!  Ahkmed!  Where is Riad Fantasia?"
Ahkmed - yelling back in Arabic, "How the Hell do I know?  You're the cabbie!" (I'm just guessing by his face and gestures)
cabbie:  Bah!  drives off.  Stops and ask different people.  Six different stops and six different responses, probably along the lines of, "maybe cab driving isn't for you" to "Jackass!"
me - I've taken a relaxation pill of sorts and am just taking this in as a city tour for 12 bucks.

Finally, he comes across a teenager who knows where the Riad Fantasia is.  He gets in.  We drive for another minute or two and the cabbie points and says, "There Riad Fantasia".  The kid gets out, I get out, and the kid takes my bag (tip implied here!) and off we go down the alley.  Sure enough I find the Riad Fantasia.  Will miracles never cease!?!?

This is Johnny and Lauren, two of the ten Brits that I went with on a 4 day safari to the Sahara.

The Riad was about $30 a night and worth every penny.  My room was on the bottom floor and looked like something out of Arabian Nights. Had my own bathroom.  Was even clean!  No air-conditioning, but no big deal.  The 12" thick walls kept it amazingly cool.  When it got a bit warm for two hours a day, I'd take a shower and take a nap.

Riads are amazing because the alleys they are on are filthy and disgusting.  But open the door to the Riad and a world of peace and solitude await.  This is the street 18 feet from our Riad door.  Yes, let's keep that door shut!

Riads are very conducive to meeting people.  The common area is where we all meet for breakfast which ends up with, "Where are you going today?" and from that, groups head out to tanneries, safaris, massages, haircuts, beers, dinners, watching the Euro Cup, etc.  Good fun.  Makes staying in a hotel room boring.
   

   

I knew that with a good clean room and a shower, I could tolerate whatever came my way during the day.  Throw in a great house keeper named Abdullah and it was made even easier.  Abdullah was a Berber and made couscous for me the first night.  Every day was a simple but wonderful breakfast.  In this picture he's teaching Sara how to tie a turban.  Sarah was one of 10 Brits.
    He knew where to find everything in the city.  Massage for $1, laundry for $5, Hash for.... well you get the picture, he was a concierge!

The courtyard in the Riad was a place of great peace and tranquility.  Every morning breakfast and every night, I'd plug in my computer and type for a couple of hours.  Abdullah would bring me tea and I would answer the door if someone was out late or newly arrived in town.  It was a trade we made without ever saying anything, but I figured he had to be tired as he was up at 5:30 every morning and up at least to midnight.  Either he was a triplet or he was working 24 hour shifts.
  This is a picture of my first night in Marrakech.  Dinner with Carla and Everrett. He from Seattle and she from Chile.







The great attraction to Marrakeck is NOT it's cleanliness.  It's the Djemaa el Fna Square.  The "Square" is nuts.  It is Barnum and Bailey without restrictions, rules, regulations or safety nets.  It's the place to go every night and indeed, every Moroccan does exactly that.

This is the place to see snake charmers, who are a royal pain in the fang.  If they so much as see you touching your camera, they run at you demanding money.  Be sneaky, but remember, they've been doing this for 1,000 years from the same spot.  You've got little chance of succeeding.  I would take many pictures with the camera at my side and pointing away as I faked talking to one of the Brits.  It worked because I'm using a digital camera.  "Back in the day..." never could have afforded that many throwaway pictures.

   




The monkey men are almost as bad.  They will come up to you and put the monkey on your back, head, shoulders and then demand money for the  picture.

Doesn't this girl look calm and relaxed??
Or...
Doesn't she look like she'd give her last $ to get this rabid animal off her shoulder??


The lady in green is thanking Allah that she isn't a tourist!

 



 I may not be the greatest promoter in the world, but I know that if I were going to dress up in "traditional garb"... in an effort to lure in the tourist wanting to see the "traditional garb", I'd lose the motorcycle... but hey... I don't live in Marrakech, so whatever.
Great drums
Great hats
Great outfits
Great moped???

During the day, the Djeema looks like this, empty.  Everyday, the owners of the food stands have to take down their metal stands and then erect them again when the next day arrives.   In the background you see the tallest minaret in Marrakech, which can be heard from everywhere... except my room!
 

 At night the Djeema is crazy with activity.  Story tellers, henna salesladies, old men selling fruit, orange juice stands with their incredibly never ending cat calls to the tourist that their oj is better than the other 45 other OJ hawkers.  I wanted to say, "Don't you think that I might know if I want an oj?"
     The food stall hawkers, however, are in a league by themselves.  Apparently, the Bureau of Tourism has told them that grabbing you and sitting you down on one of their shucky looking benches is not good for the city image, but that doesn't mean that you can't stand in their way and "usher" you toward a table.  Some are funny.
food hawker:  Please... sir... please... sit here...
me:   La shokran (no thanks)
food hawker - fresh chicken!
me:   I just ate!
food hawker - Okay... maybe next time?

I love the good guy approach!  Very novel!

   But the majority of the "salesmen" want you to sit at their very dirty looking food stalls and eat chicken, lamb, snails... etc.    Yep, those are snails that you buy by the bowl...and folks are lining up for them.  "Uhhh.... you can have my place in line...No, really... I insist!"
 



Another treat is to have Moroccan Mint tea or Berber Whiskey as the Berbers call it.  It is very good but there are two things wrong with it.  Allah only knows who the last guy was to drink out of the glass and secondly, there is literally a block of sugar, not cube, in each glass.  Unreal.

At the risk of being accused of exaggerating, alleyways that are no more than 7 feet wide and with people walking both ways, have motor bikes buzzing through them as if it's a main thoroughfare.   I saw two people get hit while I was walking to the square, all of about 300 meters from  our Riad.  The secret is to NOT make a lateral step.  Only go forward or stop, look, and then take a lateral step.  It is amazing how close they come next to your elbows, so keep them from flailing or from pointing your fingers.
     It looks like the guy in the ball cap on the right has set up to watch the Indy 500 or more like the Demolition Derby.

But wait!  Hold your horses.. No, DON'T hold your horses.   there's a late entry into the mix... it's a pull cart complete with donkey and owner.  Yes, he, and the donkey, and the minibike, and three year olds, and 90 year old men, and the pregnant women...and me...are all using these little alleyways.  I can't believe that more people are killed!

Now here's one that makes a worker for CPS (Child Protective Services) scream, "Job Security!!"



And to make it even more of a challenge to common sense... Let's imagine that Papa actually needs glasses.  Let's imagine that the face on the little girl isn't saying, "I'm scare witless!"