Paul has been reading these posts after the fact. As such, he wants me to put a disclaimer that if he had been posting, some of the entries would have a decidely different tone, especially those regarding him. My reply...to the blogger goes the history.
I feel there is so much I am leaving out, I hope to add later memorable moments that due to time I haven´t included.
For instance, one image that I will remember always....we were riding into an extremely small village. There was a rather overgrown park with a children´s slide. On a bench in this park was a tiny, older Spanish couple. He was dressed in what looked like his best wool jacket and vest and she had on her dress. At her feet, lay a dog. As they sat on the bench, she was lovingly combing her husband´s hair. How long had they been married? How many times had that same scene played itself out? I´ll never know the details, but I really didn´t need to.
Again, I hope to add many more of these plus, I´m sure many that Paul has as well.
Until later,
Cristina and Paul
Saturday, June 19, 2004
What a Hard Day!!!
Last night, after we arrived for our night´s stop, Paul immediately headed to the bike shop. He had been having trouble again. At the shop, they had to replace nearly all the spokes on his back tire. No wonder he struggled yesterday. The repairs were crucial as we faced our biggest challenge the next day.
Today was probably our hardest day of biking...or rather I should say walking. We climbed over the mountain into Galicia, the last province we will be crossing before we arrive in Santiago de Compostela.
The day started overcast and slightly windy, but we were encouraged that our ride, although climbing, seemed easy. We knew that would change. As we wound our way through the various villages, we passed many pilgrims who were also starting out to the top of the mountain. As we looked up, the tops of the mountains were cloud-covered.
We enjoyed the first part of the day´s ride and stopped to take quite a few pictures. This was fortuitous. As Paul was taking one photo, a few pilgrims were walking by. I like to ask where people are from. One woman answered she was from Barcelona. The next woman looked at me and said she did not understand spanish, so I asked in English and she became very excited! She said she had heard very little English on her journey. When I asked her where she was from, she said Michigan. I told her Paul and I lived in Michigan for a number of years and asked where in Michigan. As one of those small world moments go, it turns out she hailed from Ann Arbor as did we for many years. We spent quite a while talking to her and marveling that we passed her home on a daily basis and many time while riding bikes with the kids downtown. We probably attended the same church and yet here we were next to a field in the middle of Spain and just now meeting. Quite an incredible experience. We wished her well on her journey, she expected to take another couple of weeks to her journey´s end, we hoped to finish in a couple of more days.
As we headed up the hill, the climb started to get harder. I told Paul I would meet him at the top and off he rode. It became apparent that I would be walking up and pushing my bike. The grade was too steep and I could walk faster than I could bike. At some point, the walkers took a different path. I continued on the road and soon found myself alone with my thoughts. Since I´d been listening to myself for quite a bit on this trip already, I decided to pull out my cd player and listen to some music. I brought along some Led Zepplin to help on the expected arduous climbs. Unfortunately, my batteries were dead. Back to my own thoughts.
I took my time pushing up the hill. At one point, I was passed by a couple peddling up the hill. They waved, wished me a "Buen Camino" and promptly disappeared up the road. There were many memorable images as I climbed....passing a cow by the side of the road. She willingly posed for a picture next to my bike. Looking back and watching the valley disappear gave me some hope the top was just around the corner. Several kilometers later and I was still pushing.
As I climbed, the temperature was dropping decidely. It was an interesting constrast. I was extremely hot and sweaty and yet it was getting colder and colder. I finally reached a point where the road was starting to disappear into the mist of the clouds. Probably a low moment for me because at that point, I didn´t know how much higher I had to push. At one section, I could not see the road any further than twenty feet in front of my bike. I felt like I was in Brigadoon and when I came out through the mist on the other side, my bike would turn into a donkey and I would be in medieval times doing the Camino. (Perhaps you can surmise now why I would rather listen to Led Zepplin than listen to my own thoughts.)
Anyway, the climb eventually ended. The cold did not. It was a bone-chilling mist. At the top of the mountain is a very old village that must be quite beautiful in good weather. I found Paul in a nice warm bar and he told me he had to walk up as well. We stopped for a short while and then wanted down the mountain as quickly as possible to some warmer weather. That is a double-edged wish. To get down the mountain quickly is to experience frigid wind-chill. It was horribly cold.
We have arrived at Samos, our destination for the night. While it was probably one of our more shorter journeys, it was also our most challenging. It is time for dinner and then off for a good night´s and well deserved rest.
Cristina and Paul
Today was probably our hardest day of biking...or rather I should say walking. We climbed over the mountain into Galicia, the last province we will be crossing before we arrive in Santiago de Compostela.
The day started overcast and slightly windy, but we were encouraged that our ride, although climbing, seemed easy. We knew that would change. As we wound our way through the various villages, we passed many pilgrims who were also starting out to the top of the mountain. As we looked up, the tops of the mountains were cloud-covered.
We enjoyed the first part of the day´s ride and stopped to take quite a few pictures. This was fortuitous. As Paul was taking one photo, a few pilgrims were walking by. I like to ask where people are from. One woman answered she was from Barcelona. The next woman looked at me and said she did not understand spanish, so I asked in English and she became very excited! She said she had heard very little English on her journey. When I asked her where she was from, she said Michigan. I told her Paul and I lived in Michigan for a number of years and asked where in Michigan. As one of those small world moments go, it turns out she hailed from Ann Arbor as did we for many years. We spent quite a while talking to her and marveling that we passed her home on a daily basis and many time while riding bikes with the kids downtown. We probably attended the same church and yet here we were next to a field in the middle of Spain and just now meeting. Quite an incredible experience. We wished her well on her journey, she expected to take another couple of weeks to her journey´s end, we hoped to finish in a couple of more days.
As we headed up the hill, the climb started to get harder. I told Paul I would meet him at the top and off he rode. It became apparent that I would be walking up and pushing my bike. The grade was too steep and I could walk faster than I could bike. At some point, the walkers took a different path. I continued on the road and soon found myself alone with my thoughts. Since I´d been listening to myself for quite a bit on this trip already, I decided to pull out my cd player and listen to some music. I brought along some Led Zepplin to help on the expected arduous climbs. Unfortunately, my batteries were dead. Back to my own thoughts.
I took my time pushing up the hill. At one point, I was passed by a couple peddling up the hill. They waved, wished me a "Buen Camino" and promptly disappeared up the road. There were many memorable images as I climbed....passing a cow by the side of the road. She willingly posed for a picture next to my bike. Looking back and watching the valley disappear gave me some hope the top was just around the corner. Several kilometers later and I was still pushing.
As I climbed, the temperature was dropping decidely. It was an interesting constrast. I was extremely hot and sweaty and yet it was getting colder and colder. I finally reached a point where the road was starting to disappear into the mist of the clouds. Probably a low moment for me because at that point, I didn´t know how much higher I had to push. At one section, I could not see the road any further than twenty feet in front of my bike. I felt like I was in Brigadoon and when I came out through the mist on the other side, my bike would turn into a donkey and I would be in medieval times doing the Camino. (Perhaps you can surmise now why I would rather listen to Led Zepplin than listen to my own thoughts.)
Anyway, the climb eventually ended. The cold did not. It was a bone-chilling mist. At the top of the mountain is a very old village that must be quite beautiful in good weather. I found Paul in a nice warm bar and he told me he had to walk up as well. We stopped for a short while and then wanted down the mountain as quickly as possible to some warmer weather. That is a double-edged wish. To get down the mountain quickly is to experience frigid wind-chill. It was horribly cold.
We have arrived at Samos, our destination for the night. While it was probably one of our more shorter journeys, it was also our most challenging. It is time for dinner and then off for a good night´s and well deserved rest.
Cristina and Paul
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