Day 10 - What I Won’t Do Again

Ever since the nuns of grammar  school wouldn’t let us pass the parlor of the convent I’ve always wanted to stay at a nunnery.  It seemed like such a romantic place to live. In Santa Domingo last night the huge wooden doors and stone floors of the convent were so charming that we booked a room immediately.  The charm started wearing off as we climbed to the third floor of the medieval building. My claustrophobia kicked in as we tripped through the minuscule hallways. The ceilings slanted lower with each step and I fell into a mild panic attack.

When I heard those big wooden doors slam shut and the lock and key turn, a full blown panic attack kicked in.  Mathew looked up from his bed as I jumped up from mine to see if I could escape through the one tiny window in the room. He lied and said the nuns only locked one door and we could get out of the other. I don’t know if I decided to believe his lie or adjust to the fact that jumping out of a 2 x 2 foot window three stories up was not an option.

I think I calmed down because I was busy trying to reason why  in the first place a nun would put Tarja and me in a one bedroom space stuffed with three beds and our third roommate was a gorgeous, fit, tan specimen of a man.

I couldn’t sleep all night because I’m not sure the sheets had been washed since this convent was built 1000 years ago.  When I did get some much needed shut eye,  I kept dreaming Franco was back in power and I needed to escape from the place I was jailed. Needless to say I was happy to leave at the 7:45am mandatory check out time and be on my way. Back to 21st century auberges!

Today’s post is dedicated to Evelyn who finished her first semester of law school and is full of spunk and determination.   And thank you Sue Mears for sponsoring her college education.

Day 9 - Five Euro and Three Liters

I found the ticket! Of course, I’m no longer the true pilgrim but there is a service that transfers your backpack to your next overnight stay for a mere five euro. No problem.  We had another  17 mile walk today (and add an extra mile since I inadvertently took a scenic route to a small but beautiful town)  I flew through the multiple vineyards on our route today without my 20 pound load on my back. I’ve turned from a turtle to a roadrunner skipping along the way.

Three liters of water each day is another secret to the skipping. No longer am I dehydrated. Plus my friend, Lizanne, who returned to England left me the most wonderful covers for blisters. She also introduced me to the hotel I spent two days recuperating and where I was able to come back to life.  Then the best thing happened when I was lost walking out of Logrono in the morning.  Tarja from Finland glanced up from her coffee and ran out of the cafe to greet me.  We were reunited after four days of separation and walked together all day today. Plus Peter, Balz and Tammie’s friend, tracked me down in the evening in Najera and we all had dinner together. But before that we met Michael from North Caroline in the hostel and he shared the high end wine from the winery whose vineyards we walked through today. It cost him one euro and it was packaged in a box (not a bottle) and it was delicious.

Oh! Life is good again.

Today’s post is dedicated to Stella because she has the biggest smile in the world and even though she is as shy as she can be she can still melt your heart when she shows you those pearly whites. Thank you to Tory Davidson and her family for sponsoring Stella.

Days 6 to 8 - My Kingdom for an Orange

Saturday was a bad, bad, horrible day.  Each step was more difficult than the next. With each breeze my sneezing went on uncontrollably due to my hay fever.  I had even overdosed on beautiful scenery.

I finally dropped my backpack in the middle of the path. My poles fell beside it and I sat in the dry scrub to the side. There was no shade and so I simply sat there miserably.  I dug into my backpack and found an orange from a couple of days ago.

You haven’t lived until you peel a Spanish orange and taste a slice of heaven. My troubles dissipated and I was transported into a garden of eden where fruit is all the sustenance you need. Life would be okay again as I worshiped at the altar of the orange sphere.

An hour later I rounded a curve and viewed a backpack in the middle of the Camino but there was no one around biting into an orange. I flashed back to that book “Left Behind” where the people simply disappeared and all their belongings were left on earth.  Where was this fellow hiker?  Had she given up and wandered away leaving her heavy backpack behind? If only she had carried a Spanish orange with her!

Slowly I noticed a blue sleeve amongst the tall green grass. I laughed aloud when she told me the grass was simply too soft and too comfy looking to pass up. She had to hide her exhaustion in the peaceful environment she was surrounded.

There is no description that can convey the drudgery of mile after mile of the crunch, crunch, crunch of the gravel path. I’ve heard that by the end of the first week you find a groove and the daily routine falls into place.  Now already at day #7 and onto day #8 – I’m sorry to say my stride may take a while longer.

On day #8 we walked 17.5 miles and I hit the wall.  Maybe it was the last two nights of Spanish snoring in the hostels. Or it was the dehydration I was suffering. Or it was the three new blisters. Or it was the fact that at the end of day #8 every hostel in town was full due to the weekend walkers from Spain.

I booked into a small hotel and collapsed in my private room. The only metaphor I can render up is one where you are on the way to the hospital in full labor and you stubbornly decide you don’t want to give birth right at this time after all.  It is time to take day #9 off (unlike any similar opportunity in my metaphor) and re-group.  I spent the day in my bed tending to my blisters, had a shower I didn’t have to share with 30 other people and used a real towel that wrapped all the way around me.

Tomorrow will be a bright day.

This post is dedicated to the grit and determination of the students we support in high school.  The picture was taken on one of my first trips to Kenya and our girls were playing a soccer game against a school from the area.  I didn’t notice it at first but many of our girls didn’t have soccer shoes like the opposing team who was well suited.  I was amazed at the level of play and the fierce kicks from the bare feet. I so admire what children of poverty must overcome. They don’t play on a level playing field but that doesn’t stop them from playing.

Day 5 - I Thought Spain was hot and the Camino was flat!

The excitement and newness is wearing off and the reality of what is ahead is sinking in. I glanced at the map to locate how far I’ve come only to move my finger back, back, back to where I was. The road ahead is daunting!

During the day I walk alone most of the time and am always surprised to find myself with familiar faces when I stop for my breaks at the cafes in the tiny villages we pass through.
I cannot believe I’ve worn wool leggings and a down jacket each day. I almost didn’t pack them. Tom (Dubai), Connie (Germany) and Tarja (Finland) surprised me with a scarf for my birthday and I haven’t taken that off either.

And no one told me to bring a sleeping bag. I just brought a silk liner. Three out the last five nights the hostel doesn’t provide a blanket. My down coat, wool soaks and wool leggings have provided for my warmth. I am definitely living a pilgrims existence!

My two blisters are under control with the compeed I apply each morning. I wasn’t going to pack that as well because I believed I was such an experienced hiker! Oh, the lessons I’m learning.
I left my beloved Lush soap behind in the previous town. One bar washed your clothes, your hair and your face. But as luck would have it someone left their soap in the next town and I never missed a beat.

But the days are glorious and the scenery is magnificent and as I plug along I know I’m making progress to the final goal.

Today’s walk is dedicated to Francis and to Virginia Sullivan who has been sponsoring Francis since 2006!! Francis is small for his age but has a big heart and a lovely temperament. He attends Fanaka Primary School and lives in a corrugated tin shack walking distance from school.

Day 4 - Are you a turtle?

In college, knowing the answer to that question gave you elite status in the party scene. At this stage of the #Camino2Kenya2015 it is the  question to my every day existence.  I am a turtle because I am slow but methodical as I creep along the path to Santiago, and my entire house is carried on my back.  No matter who passes me I seem to pass them back once they take a rest. I am living with a bunch of hares who are as fast as lightening but who stop many times along the way.

Last night in Pamplona I stayed at a German hostel. At 6am opera was blasted throughout the hostel to get us going and out by 7:30am. Really?  We have nothing to accomplish but walking for 7-8 hours each day and we don’t need to begin at 6am. But awake my fellow pilgrims do and they scurry off to rush to the next hostel.  Meanwhile I meander back to sleep and I’m usually the last one to leave in the morning.  Ironically, we all arrive at the end of the journey that afternoon at the same time.  At my turtle pace I just keep plugging along waving ‘ola’ or ‘bonjour’ or ‘gutten tag’ to new found friends along the way.  At 11am it is time for a sandwich and beer, and at 3pm everyday I have chocolate, cheese and an orange. This is heaven!

By 4pm my feet are shot.  The blister on my left heal is starting to notice the distance and my feet are begging to rest. I can’t believe how difficult it is to climb up on the top bunk of my bed when your body has stiffened up to what feels like a metal rod.

Am I complaining? No!! I’m loving every minute of it but my body is remarking over and over that I’m crazy.

I realized tonight I am the only American I have seen on the trail. The fact that everyone I’ve bonded with speaks English to me and to each other makes my life very easy.  The only language they don’t like is my snoring during my nap upon arriving at the hostel.  Once I lay down for the night in the dorm with 20-30 sleep mates, I have my snore guard firmly in place and everyone is happy.

I’d like to dedicate today’s journey to Pascaline and Miriam who are determined nursing students at Catholic University in Kenya.  They make me laugh all the time.  The picture below is when they introduced me to the plastic patient they practiced on during the second year of schooling. I’m sorry I can’t remember the plastic patient’s name but maybe they’ll email me with the name.




They kept a dogged determination to complete high school and then university with a degree in nursing. I so admire them and love the insights they offer.

Day 3 - My Camino Family is Forming

Tarria from Finland turned to me about 3 kilometers out of Roncesvalles and said it is interesting how a Camino family naturally forms.  By the third day familiar faces are constantly appearing and connections are being created. By days end you naturally gravitate to these same people.  Today  was my birthday. And everyone in my growing Camino family made sure it was a special one for me.  The song “Bonne Anniversaire” startled me as I crawled with sleepy  eyes to the dorm bathroom.  I sat with this French gentleman the night before and he was the first to jump into the hallway between bunks to start my day with a smile.

“I heard  a camino rumor,” Kate from Australia said as she swished by me at the 14 kilometer mark to Zubiri.  “We’ll have to celebrate tonight!”

The day began and ended in the pouring rain. It felt so cleansing! My new over the backpack poncho left me soaked. I remember hearing it is waterproof until it rains.  It is so cool looking though, that I don’t mind if it  doesn’t work so well.

Today is dedicated to the little children at Fanaka. I took the picture below many years ago but I so understand the exhaustion the young man feels! He worked as hard as he could and at the end of the day he simply didn’t have any  more to give!

Day 2 - Into the Mountains I go...

I have downloaded 1,000 songs and five books on my iphone, but I can’t bring myself to plug in. The sounds of the birds, the wind, the tiny streams and the crunch under my feet are glorious. Today I crossed the Pyrenees and during seven hours of hiking I felt I was living within the pages of “Heidi” as I passed cows, horses and sheep grazing on the screaming green pastures. Once over the pass to Spain I was cloistered under magnificent trees and damp leaves. Was I on the Appalachian Trail? Then an hour later the decent was as steep as the trail down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I only took two wrong turns today but luckily there are enough people walking that they could see my error and yell to me before it was too late.

At the top of one hill thirteen eagles were circling overhead. I ate my baguette a little more quickly as I was afraid the show above was not for my viewing but for the bread I was eating.

I am dedicating today’s walk to Winfred. Her graduation from Strathmore University is at the end of June, and she has already completed an internship in northeast Kenya. She is pictured below in a photo taken at Fanaka Primary School where she worked as a volunteer teacher as a way of giving back.

Day 1 - I didn't pack my underwear!

Didn’t pack my underwear!

I arrived quite safely but my extra underwear didn’t! It is the only thing I forgot to pack and so I will be living the slogan from the ExOfficio underwear I bought at REI: “one pair, six weeks”. It dries so fast that you only need one pair, wash it at night it is dried by morning.


Well, I washed mine last night, rolled it in my dry fast REI towel and put them right back on! Viola, they were dry.

Today was a rest day in St Jean Pied-dePort, the starting point of the Camino.

This day is dedicated to the students at Mt. Olive Academy whose only source for clean clothes is soap and elbow grease. This is the same combination I’ll be using the next six weeks to wash my clothes.

Like the students at Mt. Olive Academy, a boarding middle school funded by C2CKenya to provide a safe haven for the vulnerable children we support, I will have to line dry my clothes. I have quickly learned this is somewhat of a challenge when the rain won’t let up. Maybe C2CKenya should donate boxes of ExOfficio underwear to Mt. Olive for the rainy season that hits eastern African from January through May.

Rough Start, Day 0, Camino de Santiago, LAX to Madrid

My euphoria over the success of #Camino2Kenya2015 campaign came crashing down at the gate 46B at LAX. I fell asleep mid-text and awoke to watch my plane pulling back from the tarmac. Panicked calls to reschedule met with overbooked flights and a $4,300 change fee and a cancellation of all my connecting flights since I missed the first leg. The weight of letting down so many people because of my error was crushing. The stress and fear of what I had ahead of me didn’t matter anymore because I wasn’t going.

I did what I do when I’m utterly lost and alone. I sobbed. I sobbed right in the middle of LAX with harried travelers pushing me aside to get to their flights that they didn’t miss due to crushing fatigue.

All I wanted was to go home and crawl in bed and hide. I wanted to be back with my Australian Sheppard who always loves me no matter how I mess up.

Of course you know it worked out. I cried my way onto a sold out flight and met my connection to Madrid. I sobbed into the arms of the attendant when she handed my the boarding pass.

I’ll get to the commence the Camino de Santiago as planned, but the first step of that journey began this morning. I will not be letting down all the donors that are supporting young students in Kenya. I will not let the students down who are filling out applications for the educational grants C2CKenya can provide now that #Camino2Kenya2015 was a success.

But I came close to failing and it left me feeling raw and vulnerable. And maybe that is the way one is supposed to feel at the beginning of a 500 mile solo journey.

I’m dedicating each day of my hike to a child of C2CKenya. The first day is dedicated to Rosemary who wrote me the letter from Saudi Arabia which kick-started the idea that C2CKenya must increase the opportunities of education to the young and vulnerable children so they don’t have to find themselves as housemaids in Saudi Arabia. Rosemary now has an opportunity to complete technical college and change the trajectory of her life because of the donors who supported #Camino2Kenya2015. Thank you!