A Stone Boat

A hill top castle....

A locked gate...

But I have the key to the castle!!
For several kilometers approaching the village of Monjardin, my attention was drawn to a very high hill that seemed to have a particularly interesting pile of rocks at its peak.

The closer I got to the village the more the pile seemed to resemble the remains of a castle and when I finally reached the village, my destination for that night, to my surprise there was a castle perched at the top.   Looking about the village there was a familiarity to it and I realized I had made a rest and coffee break at this same spot when I passed through in 2011.  I asked about the castle at that time but all I was told was that if I wanted to visit it, I just needed to ask at the bar for a key to open the gate.  I decided not to do it in 2011 but did not want to let this opportunity pass a second time.  Having walking almost 30 km in 35C+ heat this day, it seemed wise to wait until early the following morning.  The keeper of the key at the bar said I could come by at 8:00 the following morning but I was hoping to get an earlier start, so he agreed to give me the key that evening in exchange for my passport.  When I asked about the history of the castle he just shrugged his shoulders.  I asked the Dutch caretakers of the albergue but neither could they tell me anything about it.  I made the invitation to some of my fellow pilgrims but all declined.  One young fellow from the U.S. was aghast that I was willing to give up my passport.
After a hearty breakfast and a few cups of coffee I began the ascent, which was surprisingly easy as I had left my backpack at the albergue.  It was a very special moment, unlocking the gate and coming into the courtyard of the castle.  The views were amazing in every direction.  There was even a bell on the wall of the castle about a meter high and wide.  I thought to myself 'it probably is not functioning' but I gave it a tentative push.....nothing....then a bigger push.....still nothing.  Then I put my weight behind it and  was rewarded with a resounding 'DOONNNNGGGG!!'
I thought for a moment I may have woke up the entire village below but luckily one of the churches in the village answered but with a much less resounding 'dong'.
Circling the outside wall before descending I was finally able to learn something about the castle.
 It was originally a Roman castle, fortified by the Moors during their reign in Spain then taken over in a very important battle by one of the kings of Navarra.  Later, during one of the Carlist Wars, when a lot of castles in Spain were demolished, this one suffered less than others due to its location and the strength of its walls.  It is referred to as...
'A stone boat that ran aground in the clouds'.

A view from the castle window.

A view of the village below the castle.

It was truly a magical experience!

A Week of Walking

After 7 days on the Camino I have travelled approximately 155 km since leaving St. Jean in France.  Once in Spain, I have been walking through the autonomous region of Navarra and today I crossed into a new region called La Rioja, whose capital is Logroño, and that is where I will spend today.  For my friends who enjoy red wine....this region may sound familiar.
Although the routine of the days is somewhat similiar, the landscapes keep me enthralled...and sometimes, after cresting a small rise the valleys spread out before me and I have to reach for my camera.  Then stop as I realize that my camera could never adequately capture this panorama and I pause and savour the moment.  But of course, I do take many photos!!
The door of an albergue welcoming pilgrims.

Grapes...of course!

An eye catching hill in the distance....complete with castle.

The beautiful Puente de Reina....bridge of the queen, built to help the prilgrims cross the River Arga.

Wanderfull trails...

Nice and cool in this stone refuge but you have to share it with the mosquitos!

A pilgrim taking a midday break.

Where ever grapes grow there will be wineries.

This winery allows 100 liters a day to refresh the pilgrims...bring your own cup but please don´t fill your water bottle!

One of the kings of Navarra.

A roof top view.

The young enjoying a play in the fountain of the main plaza.

And those full of wisdom solving world problems....or maybe just enjoying the beautiful evening and the company of long time friends.

To all my friends and family....love you and miss you but I am far from ready to return.

Hasta luego...

Madrid to St. Jean and Beyond

Thanks to great bus service in Spain I left Madrid, traveled to Pamplona and made a connection to St Jean, France in a single afternoon.  I was surprised that the tiny village was so quiet as the last time I was here it was teeming with pilgrims.  First order of business was to register at the Camino Office and obtain the credential which is required to stay at any of the pilgrim lodgings.  The credential is stamped at each albergue, or church or even a city hall.  The credential must also be presented upon arriving to the church in Santiago where you then receive the compostela or certificate of completion of the pilgrimage.

Following a hearty meal and a stroll around the village I returned to the albergue wanting a good night of sleep as the first day is one of the most difficult.  The first 20 km takes you over the Pyrenees and the last 5 are downhill arriving to Roncesvalles in Spain.

                            Sunset in the tiny village of St. Jean Pied de Port, France.

My sleep turned out to be not as restful as I had hoped.  Not sure if it was due to my excitement to begin walking or the snorers, even though I was prepared with earplugs (note: earplugs are a must when staying in dorms), I forgot to have them ready and after settling in to my silk liner, I didn't feel like getting up and digging through my bag to locate them.
The following morning a thick fog had settled on the village but my mid morning the sun was out and the views spectacular.

                      These are not my boots, I just liked them in the photo.
People come from all over the world to make this trek and during the first evening and following day I made a list of folks I chatted with.  Russia, several US states, Spain,  Puerto Rico, Australia, Finland and Sweden...however I also saw a crest from Brazil and heard lots of people speaking German.  Oh yes, and Canada...two women from Quebec.

                           Pila and Richard, a Spanish/Amerian couple from Tarragona.
Conversation is a great tool to take your mind off the climb....as is the scenery.

                                                        Still on the way up......

                                                   and UP until.....

                         ....finally descending where this gate marks the border with Spain.

Day 2 also started with a thick morning fog.....now ONLY 790 km to go.  I started well behind most pilgrims as I took my time arranging my pack.  With the dorm almost empty, I readied my body with some stretching while listening to recorded music of chanting monks. 

It was not long before the sun chased away the fog and I was soon peeling off my jacket and converting my pants to shorts.

No shortage of stops to enjoy a cafe latte and....

....the long anticipated and oh so Spanish...tortilla de patatas.

Some young entrepreneurs providing icy cold drink to the tired and thirsty pilgrims.

  Some years ago, a friend Berniece once said never walk by a child selling lemonade on the street.  Since that time I have taken it to heart.
   The days and kilometers seem to go by so quickly and after 3 days and about 75 km I arrive to Pamplona as they are gearing up for the famous festival of San Fermin and the running of the bulls.

I had not even given this a thought while preparing for my trip but within two weeks there will be absolutely no accommodation available  here and the prices will double.

I think it would be quite a spectacle to witness....perhaps another trip?

Til next time....

The Camino de Santiago

  The Camino de Santiago is a trek of approximately 815 km if you begin in the small village of St Jean Pied de Port just on the French side of the border between France and Spain and finish at the Church of Santiago de Compostela in the city of Santiago, Galicia in NW Spain.  Those making this trek are called pilgrims and pilgrims have been following this path for thousands of years but only since approximately the  8th Century AD did it become a Catholic pilgrimage when bones, believed to be those of St. James, were discovered in a field and the church was built in his honour and to house the remains.  But long before the discovery of the grave of the saint,  the Celti-Iberians had been following these ancient paths to Finnisterre on the coast as a place to worship the setting of the sun. Now, pilgrims have been trekking in ever increasing numbers to pay homage to St. James or as he is known in Spanish; Santiago.  Nowadays, there are many still pilgrims following these ancient pathways for religious reasons, but an increasing number of people are looking for spiritual guidance or simply for the sport of walking 800+ km.  There are routes that come from all parts of Europe as well as Africa and British Isles but all converge in Spain at the church in Santiago.
  The route I am following is called the French Route.  It is probably the most traveled and most well serviced.  Accommodation can take the form of dormitories with bunk beds in albergues; some brand new with modern conveniences and others more rustic with only the basic necessities.  Of course, in larger cities or towns, one could opt for a hotel but most save that treat for the end of the journey,  The terrain crosses mountains, meanders through forests, skirts farmland, passes through tiny villages, small towns and even very large cities.  No map is necessary as the route is well marked providing you pay attention and look for a conch shell or yellow arrow to guide you.
 They say that you don't decide to walk the camino....but rather it calls you.  And I must admit that I feel there is some truth to this...but perhaps, that will be another blog.  In any event, this is the second time I have been 'called', my first time was 2011.
 I  began this trek on June 21, 2015 .  I hope to be posting with dialogue and some photos when WIFI is available.

While in Athens....

Of course the obvious thing to do in Athens is to visit the Acropolis with the impressive Parthenon.

But there are endless ruins sites to discover.....

Churches.....

Museums......

Monuments.....

and always, no end to the 'monumental' puzzles waiting for a solution.

There is also the opera at the famous theatre of Odeon of Herodes built in 162 AD and situated just under  the Acropolis.  It was restored in 1954 and is now used for concerts and other events in the Festival of Athens every summer.  We were very fortunate to get tickets for the opera 'Tosca'.  Didn't matter that we were in the nose bleed seats...it was still fantastic.

If you are really lucky you might score tickets to a rock concert.  The artist was Fillippos Plassikas and he was held in high esteem by the crowd on the beautiful grounds of the Athen's Concert Hall.  We missed all the jokes and interactions with the fans but of course....understanding the words is not necessary to enjoy great music.

But what I really love to do is get lost in the maize of streets that comprise the historical center....meaning....after awhile if I don't wander past some familiar landmark....out comes the map because (as I related in an earlier blog about getting lost in the Chinook Mall in Calgary, my sense of direction leaves something to be desired).

Hence, my map by the end of the stay in any particular place ends up dog eared. Specifically,  more like a dog's ears after a dog fight.

But what a great moment it was to come across these young girls playing the accordion and singing in the streets...they definitely got a  few euros from me....and their smiles tell all.

Another great find was the Flea Market 'Nirvana'.  I had to include these photos for my friend, affectionately known as B7.  If she came across this area of Athens, I believe her husband Tim would be renting a container on a ship before she would agree to leave.

By the way...did you notice that the 'w' key is now functioning???
More on this in the next instalment.

In Search of a Secluded Beach

Everyone comes to Mykonos for the beaches; so of course the island economy is going to cash in on this desire.  The most popular beaches are lounge chair lined factories...bikini clad...or less....mostly less.
After visiting one of these beach factories and making an abrupt about turn, uue chanced upon a Colombian/Spanish couple from London spending 10 days on the island.  Having rented a car and visited almost all the beaches, they had a feuu suggestions uuhere uue might find something more to our liking.
Our destination, Elia Beach had good bus service and a bonus of being able to stop in a 'traditional village' for a visit to a monastery (besides the boat excursion to Delos from Mykonos...this monastery may be the only other tourist attraction on the island besides beaches and night life!!)  From semi secluded Elias beach, it uuould be possible to trek about 500 m to the even more 'secluded' beach of Agrari, uuhich unfortunately did not have good bus service.
All uuas going according to plan, monastery visit accomplished, back to the bus stop to catch the bus that passed hourly to Elias Beach.  Remember the last bus/beach story......repeat!  The bus passed us by as if uue uuere invisible.  Standing for another   hour....not an option so uue opted for a tour around the village.  Pointing to a narrouu road, a sign said Agrari Beach....but no distance named.  After asking at a restaurant in the plaza uue uuere told....about 5 km.  Hey...that is doable on foot...it is the desired beach anyuuay and uue can still uualk to Elias Beach to catch the bus back to touun.  All smiles at our good luck, douun the road uue uuent.  After about uuhat seemed like 5 km and no beach in sight....time to hitch hike.  The first cars that passed only had 2 seats....but the next one stopped and in it, a lovely retired French/Greek couple.  They must have taken us at least 10 km before dropping us a the turnoff to the beach...but our good luck uuas running out as dark clouds could be seen heading in the same direction as the secluded beach seekers.
Upon entering the complex of beach, taverns and houses....Zeus let go a mighty bolt of lightening.  Uue ducked in to a tavern to have some lunch just as the first drops of rain started....then it absolutely poured as uue enjoyed some of the best food so far on the trip.  I think it uuas a sign from Zeus himself telling us this uuas a good place to eat.

Moussaka for María Eugenia and for me, cheesy tortellini from heaven....not Mykonos.
Marveling that if that nice couple had not done a kindness for tuuo strangers, uue uuould have been still uualking and soaking uuet to boot!
The sun came out strong as ever and uue enjoyed one of the rare secluded beaches on Mykonos.

Serendipity, Fate or a Gift from the Oracle

On my list of things to do in Delphi uuas to hike from the Corycian Cave on Mt. Parnassos back to Delphi....a distance of about 9 km.  In the current heat (about 30 C) uualking there and back to Delphi, a distance of 18 km seemed too much.  To reach the cave my guide book suggested taking a 20 km taxi ride from the village of Arahova at a cost of about 25 euros.  Problem....to get to this village from Delphi meant an additional taxi fee that I assumed maybe another 25 euros.  The second option uuas to leave from Delphi in the direction of the cave and uualk for perhaps 4-5 km then return to Delphi.  Although I uuould not see the cave...the vieuus from the top of the mountain uuere said to be spectacular.
As I uuas uualking along the street uuondering if perhaps hitchhiking uuas an option to Arahova....I found myself in a plaza uuith 5 or 6 taxis but none seemed to have a driver.  I thought maybe they uuere all still in bed uuhen I heard a voice say "Are you looking for a taxi?"  "Hmmm"....I said "Uuell, maybe....houu much does it cost to go the the cave?"  Reply...."30 euros"....for me that uuas a done deal as I expected it to be much higher.  At the end of the road, John uuas very helpful shouuing me a map of the trail, explaining uuhat markers to look for, describing the terrain and houu special the cave is to the people of the area.  Then he gave me his card and phone number saying if I had any problems.....to call him?!?!   For a brief second....I admit feeling some doubt..... he must have sensed this as he follouued this by saying...."but don't uuorry, many people uualk the trail every day...it is very popular....very uuell marked....you can't get lost."  After a hearty handshake and my bravest smile....I set off for the cave.

I entered the cave to a depth of about 30m and enjoyed the cool, moist atmosphere....as did about a million flies.  They didn't bother me at all, but noise they produced as entered and disturbed them uuas a little disconcerting.

Here is a short excerpt from:    https://en.wikipedia.org/?title=Corycian_Cave

An excavation by French archaeologists in 1969 produced a plethora of objects of antiquity including a rare Neolithic male figurine, Mycenean shards, bone flutes, iron and bronze rings, miniature bronze statues, 50,000 terracotta figurines from the classical period and 24,000 astragoloi, or "knucklebones" (used for astragolomancy, or "prophecy by knucklebones").

Traditionally the cave has been a place of refuge for the surrounding population during foreign invasions e.g. from the Persians (Herodotus, 8.36) in the 5th century BC, the Turks during the Greek War of Independence, and from the Germans in 1943.

For the next 3 and a half hours I marveled in the beautiful landscapes of Mt. Parnassos. Inhaling the sent of the pines, I shared the sun dappled path  uuith birds, butterflies and the occasional bright green lizard.  The path indeed uuas uuell marked....

and the only other soul, uuas someone uuho had uuondered it a long time ago.

So serendipity, fate or a gift.....it uuas an amazing day!