A short impression of my life on the “Camino Frances” – Way of St. James

August 20^th 2022 till September 23th 2022

It has been several weeks since I arrived, after a walk of almost 500 miles, in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, a place of pilgrimage where, for more than 1000 years, pilgrims have been going.

A incredible experience, especially because Dick was waiting for me in front of the Cathedral of Santiago. But it also marked the end of a special hike and a return to normal life. Unfortunately I became ill the day after arrival, probably picked up a virus and developed a severe bladder infection. I couldn’t walk any further, so after spending two more days in Finisterre, Dick drove back home. There I find out that I lost weight. The scale remains at 110.67 lbs, while on departure, it really indicated 126 lbs. No wonder I was susceptible to a virus.
Fortunately, I now fully recovered and even gained 4.6 lbs.

At home in the meantime Dick has bundled my daily notes of this pilgrimage, added pictures and printed everything, so now I have a report of this (for me special) trip. Unfortunately, the size of this document, which consists of 84 pages, is too large to post this document on our website, so nothing has been published of my experiences yet. I think my daily notes would also be boring to everyone because my daily life on the Camino Frances was much the same.

I do look back on a special trip and find it difficult to describe how I experienced it. I do know that I am very grateful that I was allowed to walk this Camino (gratitude was also my reason for walking).

It was a long and at times also difficult walk. Yes often there were regular paths and even roads you walked on but there were also steep paths that led up and down and consisted more of rock slabs or loose gravel so that it was more like climbing and sliding down. At that moments I was really happy with both my walking sticks.

Before telling you something about my life on the Camino Frances to Santiago, first a little about its origins.

After the Apostle St. James went to preach Christianity in Spain, he returned to Judea where he was beheaded in the year AD 44. It is not clear what happened to his body, but a legend tells us that his body was placed in a boat that miraculously washed ashore on the coast of Galicia in Spain. Designated by a brilliant star, his body and coffin were discovered by a hermit in the 9th century. When it became clear that this was the final resting place of the apostle St. James. In Spanish his name is Santo Lago, which was shortened to Santiago. The apostle Santiago was proclaimed the patron saint of Galicia, later he even became the Patron Saint of all of Spain. A small church was built, followed by a pilgrimage. At the end of the 11^th century, construction of a cathedral started on this place in Santiago de Compostela.

At about the same time in the 9^th century, Emperor Charlemagne (Charles the Great) had a dream, calling on him to free the pilgrimage road to the tomb of the apostle Santiago in Galicia from the enemies of the Christian faith. The Emperor looked up into the night sky and saw the route to follow, the star-studded Milky Way that pointed from the north toward Galicia.

It is special when I read this because, in the early morning when it was still night, I also was led by a very bright star, which pointed the way to Santiago. It also explains the second verse of my “Ultreia” song which reads as follows:

Chemin de terre et chemin de foi           (way of earth and way of faith)
Voie millenaire de L’Europe                     (thousand years old road in Europe)
Le voie lactee de Charlemagne                (the milky way of Charles the Great)
C’est le chemin de tous les jacquets       (it is the path of all the pilgrims)

Today there are many pilgrim roads that all lead to the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostela. The most famous is the Camino Frances. I followed this classic pilgrimage route from France to Santiago de Compostela.

My starting point was Saint Jean Pied de Port in the French Pyrenees, where I arrived August 20^th at 6.30 am, after a rather tiring bus ride of 20 hours.

Dirkje is also on the bus, she was one of the participants in the mini pilgrimage. It’s fun because now we can chat and also begin our pilgrimage together.

Because in the pilgrim’s office here (acceuil Pelerin) the first stamp has to be obtained in our “Credential del Peregrino” (pilgrim’s passport).

But it‘s still closed and we have to wait until this office opens at 8 am. Unfortunately, everything in this town is still closed, nothing is open, not even to have a drink, so we kill the time by talking and I also walk to the Boutique du Pelerin, located opposite. In May I bought a lot of my equipment in this shop. I now can tell them that I am very satisfied with the equipment they sold.

After receiving our first stamp and having lit a candle in the church, the ascent of our first stage can really start. It’s  immediately a tough climb, after all, we have to cross the mountains of the Pyrenees.

I am so glad that Dick reserved a bed for me in Albergue Orisson. It means that, after a night of practically no sleep, we only have to climb 4.14 miles instead of 16.27 miles. The weather is beautiful, the sun is shining and the sky is steelblue and I am happy. The view over the imposing mountain world is beautiful. We arrive in Orisson at 11.30 am. The rest of the day is spent by hanging out in the sun, drinking water, talking and have some sleep.

 

 

 

 

The next day, stage 2, I climb further up through the Pyrenees together with other pilgrims. The sun has given way to fog and it gives this walk something mysterious, especially when we walk along trees growing on steep slopes. After crossing the border to Spain, only a pole shows that we have left France, a steep descent starts that lasts endlessly and forms an attack on my legs. It is therefore not surprising that, when I arrive at the bottom of the valley in Roncesvalles, where Dick and I spent the night with the motorhome earlier this year, tears are streaming down my cheeks. It is still too early to check in at the Albergue de Peregrinos, but the wait is not annoying, with all the pilgrims here. We chat, laugh and drink schnapps, brought by the Croats Jago, Myra and Maria and we relax.

This waiting time allows me to get to know my fellow pilgrims better and better. Important because I will spend the next weeks with them, will walk together for a while and will meet them again in the evening in the albergue, will go shopping together and eat and stay in the same dormitory. Unfortunately, during the long walk, the group breaks up, but then I meet other pilgrims.

Actually, the daily rhythm was the same every day.
Get up, get a wet cloth over your body, and pack your backpack.

During the trip my time to get up, shifted from 6 am to 4.50 am. Not really handy because the time when it gets light also got a little later every day, so I had to walk longer and longer with my headlamp. But it was nice to go out early morning because it meant that, almost always, I arrived around noon at my destination.

Over time I noticed that I became more and more adept at grabbing everything in the dark in the dorm and putting it in my backpack. Fortunately my headlamp also had a red light which caused less nuisance for the pilgrims who were still asleep and still it gave enough light to see or I packed everything.

Have some breakfast, usually in the shared kitchen of the albergue, taking care of your feet and legs and putting on shoes.

 

 

I preferred a breakfast with yogurt or custard, but sometimes I also had a sandwich or croissant with cheese spread and salami. I almost never had a baguette because the next day it was too old.

After breakfast everyone put on their shoes, after first taking care of their feet. If needed because of blisters, feet were wrapped with Leukopor (paper tape) and in my case my legs were well lubricated with physio cream, to keep my muscles flexible. In every albergue the shoes are put in a cupboard near the entrance, so there were never smelly shoes in a dormitory nor was the floor ever smeared with dirt from the shoes.

 

 

 

Unlike the many other pilgrims who walked with me, I only got two blisters. They disappeared on their own when I wrapped it with Leukopor. After a week I did get a lot of trouble with my shinbone, had shooting pains in that leg and my leg and part of my ankle was clearly thickening.
Fortunately, there were pharmacies everywhere along the way (I have never seen a country with so many pharmacies). There, after taking a look at my leg, immediately ibuprofen ointment and ibuprofen pills (painkiller and anti-inflammatory) was dispensed.
So I was able to keep going on, although I tried to slow down, take slower steps and descend more carefully. I also wanted to stop several times earlier than the day-stage indicated. However, that never happened because the places I wanted to stay were either very dead or I arrived there already around 9 am and that was really too early to stop.

I did take a rest day in Burgos (after stage 15) to spare my shinbone.

However, when I look back on this rest day, I wonder if that goal was achieved. Although I was allowed to stay a second night in the albergue municipale in Burgos (normally you can only stay one night in a albergue) and I was able to leave my backpack in a shed.
However I myself had to leave the albergue before 8 am and could not check in again until 1 pm to get a bed.
Fortunately, Danielle from Brazil and Dewi from Indonesia also had a rest day, so the three of us could explore the city. Because everything was closed until 11:30 am (so it was completely extinct in the city), we regularly sat on a terrace that morning and had café con leche (coffee with milk). And as far as the pain in my leg is concerned, the rest day probably helped because at some point after this day, I could walk again normally without any pain.

Leave the albergue, set off and walk the chosen day stage.

 

It was important to tap water in your water bottle in the morning. I always had 1.5 quart with me which was more than enough. I soon found out that the water you could tap from the springs along the road did not taste really good. It mostly had a chlorine taste. So if it was possible, I bought the day before 1.5 quart of water con gaz (with bubbles). This water was much more pleasant to drink, especially when it got warm.

The departure was often with a group, but when I got closer to Santiago, I usually left alone. Walking together had its charm because you were regularly talking to each other about all kinds of subjects and before you knew it, you already walked a great distance. But it also turned out that walking alone and being busy with your own thoughts was very important too, it had its own charm and was quite nice. I loved that.

 

 

 

 

 

Because I always left early morning, the first hours I walked in the dark so my headlamp was indispensable. Not always nice because all the insects from the wide area flocked around your head. It became all the more pleasant when the night with its clear starry sky was slowly dispelled and the cold disappeared a little later by the sun’s rays. Usually after 5 miles (sometimes after 6 miles) we managed to find a bar where cafe con leche was available. Especially when it was cold in the early morning (the temperature regularly did not rise above 50 degrees Fahrenheit), this hot drink was very pleasant to warm up. Occasionally a tortilla or a fresh baguette with bacon and eggs or with the delicious Spanish jamon, was irresistible and I ordered that too.

Sometimes the town, that was the intended end point, turned out to be so dead that it was wiser to walk a little further. This happened several times in the second week when shooting pains regularly shot through my shinbone. Every day I decided to walk a shorter distance and therefore stop earlier, but it never happened.

Arrive at the albergue and the stay there.

Because I always left early morning, I usually arrived at the albergue before it opened. I therefore always had to wait until I could check in. I preferred those albergues where you couldn’t make a reservation, often albergues municipale (an albergue sponsored by the local municipality).

Here was: the first to come has the first bed. Another possibliblity was the donativo (an albergue, often associated with the church, where you can decide yourself what you want to pay for it. The intention is that you pay a realistic amount).

To be allowed to spend the night in an albergue on the Camino, you must be able to present a “Credential del Peregrino”, a pilgrim pass.  Because you have to present it with your passport it‘s on the name in your passport. This credential will be stamped while also a photo is taken of your passport. The latter was not really nice for people who like to protect their data, but without a picture no access.

 

Most albergues have dormitories with bunk beds, sometimes with only 6 bunk beds, but there are also albergues with 20 bunk beds or more. In the latter case, partitions are often placed between the beds so that it appears less massive. Because I was always one of the first to check in, I had one of the first beds that were issued, so I always got a downstairs bed. My age must also have played a role because the elderly have more right to a downstairs bed than the young ones. Nice because there were sometimes bunk beds without stairs where you just had to find out how to reach the top bunkbed. Nearly every albergue had a mattress and pillow covered with plastic or skai. Unpleasant to lie on, but it can be cleaned well and therefore is hygienic. Because you get a paper mattress- and pillow cover in almost every albergue when you check in, it is still good for sleeping. Fortunately I never had a bed with bedbugs. Well I found out that some people sprayed their bed thoroughly before taking it.

The albergue in Viana is somewhat different. It is a donativo and belongs to the adjacent church. If we want to check in here with a group, we are told that there are no beds. After climbing endless stairs, we arrive in a room where a row of thin sleeping mats lie on the floor. We look at each other and decide to stay here anyway. As a pilgrim you also should experience this. It is significantly more primitive than sleeping in a bed and the mats are so thin that you are actually lying on the hard, wooden floor so the next day we wake up shattered. The washroom is also somewhat limited (there is only one shower and sink) but the communal meal after the pilgrim mass, as well as the breakfast served the next day, is excellent and so this Albergue deserves that people stay here.

The procedure in an albergue, after your bed is assigned and you put your sleeping bag on your bed, is that you take a (practically everywhere) warm shower. I can tell you that, after a 6 to 7 hours walk, nothing is as wonderful, than standing under a warm shower.

The next task is to wash your clothes. Often that is a separate place near the garden, where the washing lines are, sometimes there are sinks in the garden. There are sometimes washing machines, but I only used them once (in Pamplona, ​​they were free of charge). Once the clothes hang on the clothesline to dry, the chores are done.

After arriving and washing their clothes, most pilgrims hang around, lie on their beds, chat with each other, take care of their feet and legs and sleep a bit.

 

 

I personally liked to walk around town in the afternoon. Sometimes they were very picturesque and old and of course, if not closed, I visited the local church. By 5 pm, when the shops in Spain open again, every pilgrim visit the local supermercado to buy food. Most of the albergues have a kitchen where you can prepare food or heat it in a microwave. And then you eat together. It is always nice to eat, chat and drink a glass of wine together and talk about the stage we walked and the stage to come.

It never gets late in an albergue, at 10 pm the lights go out. Occasionally, when there is a late pilgrim’s mass, after which you have a shared meal together, I could not go to bed until around 9.30 pm, but usually my bedtime was much earlier and I was in bed around 8 pm. I sleep everywhere and always and I was not bothered by the sleeping sounds of the other pilgrims so I never wore earplugs. Only once in the 33 nights that I slept in an albergue, I woke up. That was because fellow pilgrims started clapping to wake someone who was snoring very heavily. It wake me but not the snoring pilgrim.

Some impressions about the walk on the Camino Frances.

I walked the entire Camino Frances in 34 stages. I started at the foot of the Pyrenees. The first stages up to Pamplona were quite mountainous and we regularly had to climb steeply and there were steep descents. The road sometimes led through a town and over a normal path, but you also came across rock slabs on this part (but also later) that were quite difficult to climb and descend.

 

 

 

 

From Pamplona to Burgos the route was mostly hilly. There is a long and steep climb up to Alto del Perdon, I walked (climbed) it with Bertold, Andres, Dewi and Danielle so we were distracted from the climb, we were welcomed at the top of this hill by policemen from Spain (guardia Civil), France (gendarmerie) and Italy (carabinieri). Of course everyone wants to take a picture with them and have a chat.

By the way, it is striking that there are so many policemen along this Camino Frances. Even on the most remote roads you regularly see a car of the Guardia Civil driving by, the cobs always wave encouragingly at you.

After staying quite a long time on the top of the Alto del Perdon and making a lot of pictures, there are nice sculptures here, we have to start the descent and this is dramatic. There is only a dried water channel, I am so glad there is no rain, that is filled with rolling pebbles and descends steeply. You really shouldn’t have trouble with your knees and otherwise you will get it here. Without walking sticks it’s impossible to descent and only by taking very short, almost running steps, you reach the valley. Apparently I am asking too much of myself on this descent because after also walking the last 3 miles on a sunny, snow-white sandy path (without sunglasses), I pass out when I finally arrive at the albergue in Puente de la Reina. Fortunately, with the help of my fellow pilgrims, I quickly recover and after sitting in the garden for a while, I can resume my daily routine and in the afternoon even wander around the old town with Dirkje and look for a geocache.

Finding the way to the next destination is normally not that difficult because everywhere you can see either the St. James shell or a yellow arrow drawn on a house or pole, sometimes there are even stones on the road in the shape of an arrow. When they are outside, you can also ask the locals or you are on the right track (they wave in the direction where the Camino runs) or you can follow the backpacker in front of you. This is not always a guarantee that you are following the right path.

Unfortunately, none of this works if you leave early in the morning, when it’s still really dark and you’re alone on the street. The arrows are often difficult to see and once you are lost (indeed, this happened to me a few times) there is only one option and that is to open the “Camino Ninja” app which will eventually get you back on the right track.

On your way through the beautiful Spanish countryside you often come across herds of sheep. It is always a beautiful sight to see sheep pouring out like a tidal wave over the fields but I did not like it when I come across such a herd in the small streets of a village where these smelly animals almost knock you over.

 

 

 

 

And then it’s August 26^th and it’s my birthday. A large number of fellow pilgrims know that I am celebrating my 70^thbirthday today and when I get up at 5 am, I am already congratulated by Alessandra from Italia and Dirkje gives me a beautiful magnet with an image of the Camino. What a treat.

Today the distance is only about 13.5 miles, so at the end of the morning we gather at the albergue in Los Arcos.

After we have been allocated a bed, taking a good shower and the laundry is flapping on the clothesline, we take a nice picture of the women and men of our regular group and then we walk together to one of the restaurants on the main square where we raise our glass on my birthday and that of Daniella from Columbia.

She is celebrating her 27^th birthday. It is nice to be sung to by this international group of pilgrims. After this drink we also have a pilgrims dinner together. A memorable birthday and great to look back on.

We now leave almost every morning in the dark, but that is no problem with our headlamps. We are guided by a brilliant bright star and the Milkyway stretches above our heads. It is special to walk so early and it becomes even more beautiful when at some point the night gives way to twilight and then the first rays of sun illuminate our path. The clicking of our phones does not stop then.

A special place on the Camino Frances is the cathedral of Santo Domingo de Calzada, where we arrive on August 30^th  (stage 11). Immediately upon entering the cathedral I hear a rooster crowing and it continues to do so several times in succession.

Unfortunately when I later have my phone ready to record that, the rooster refuses to make any further noise.

The story behind this rooster and hen in the church is as follows:
A family on their pilgrimage in the 14^th century, spent the night in an albergue. The innkeeper’s daughter tries to seduce the son, but when he does not comply, the girl accuses him of theft and puts silver cups in his bag. The boy is then convicted and hanged. The grieving parents continue their way to Santiago. On their return journey they find out that their son is still hanging on the gallows and is alive. Apostle Santiago has held him all this time. They visit the judge who just sit down at the table to eat chicken and they tell their story. The judge answers that the boy is as alive as the fried chicken on his plate. The chicken then comes to life and the boy can leave with his parents.

From this time on, a white hen and rooster is housed in the cathedral. Every 14 days, they are exchanged with other specimens, housed in a cage in the garden of my albergue.

Between Burgos and Leon is the “Meseta”. A more than 125 miles long plateau at an average altitude of 1970 feet and the oldest part of the Iberian Peninsula.

The Spaniards describe the climate on this plain as “nine months of winter and three months of hell” or a really short and hot summer. Every day we walk the first two hours of this route in the dark, where we have to deal with cold temperatures (47 degrees Fahrenheit) at sunrise.

But the rest of the day we walk in cloudy weather or the worst heat comes when we already arrived at an albergue. We’re just lucky because it can be so terribly hot here that you’re defenseless prey to the sun. On the way through this endless meseta we walk through rolling, now harvested and therefore barren, grain fields. They alternate with fields of sunflowers. Most are brown and withered, but occasionally we also find beautiful sunflowers with perky heads raised high. But in general it is a landscape without end.

It reminds me of something I read about this place.

“Pilgrim abandons all pride here, be humble and small, feel the insignificance and merge into the mighty creation.”

Silence reigns everywhere. Except for a single twittering bird, no sound is heard. There are no houses and dogs, barking everywhere, are nowhere to be seen. Once in a while you pass a shabby looking pueblo, the streets are sandy and covered with gravel.
Although there is no one to be seen and there are many abandoned, half collapsed, mud houses, some old people still live here. Young people have already turned their backs on these pueblos.

The first two stages after Burgos are still quite pleasant to walk, which is mainly caused by the fact that the landscape is still hilly and our path meanders through it.

 

 

 

 

The differences in height that still manifest themselves here, also make it possible to take a beautiful picture, early in the morning, of other pilgrims whose silhouettes on the top of a hill stand out beautifully against the slowly lightening sky. After a steep descent into the valley I arrive in Hornillos del Camino where the albergue is next to the church.

When I’m ready to explore this small town I get a call from Jobea and Bram. They were also participants in the mini pilgrimage and have just walked a Camino. They are now planning to drive home again, but because they are practically passing the town where I am now, they want to come and say hello. I really like it and a little later I see their motorhome driving through the narrow streets. We chat with each other, have a drink, walk together to the shop to do some shopping and then say goodbye again. It was nice meeting them here.

The albergues where we spend the night are mostly located in the center near the church. Many churches have a pilgrim mass in the evening which of course we visit. After the service, the pilgrims are called forward and we are always blessed by the priest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The text: “May apostle Santiago protect you and help you on your further journey” gives a good feeling and the strength to continue this special walk.

After walking through the Meseta for many days, I arrive in Leon on September 11^th. This 22^nd stage is only 11 miles so I arrive at 10 am at the albergue, which is completely deserted at that time. You can’t say that about downtown Leon. How busy it is here. The terraces are full and crowds gather on the square in front of the large cathedral. It’s nice to walk around here. Despite Sunday, there is even a supermercado open so we (yes, here you meet all the pilgrims present in Leon) can buy the necessary ingredients to be able to have a delicious dinner in the albergue.

Leaving Leon, we leave the Meseta behind us. At first the landscape becomes hilly, but after Astorga we really climb back into the mountains. The paths are bumpy and full of rocks and large stones and on the plateaus are large moors. Just before the Cruz Ferro I stay overnight in the largely dilapidated pueblo of Foncebadon. Apart from a few albergues, a restaurant, a church and a few houses, only dilapidated and abandoned ruins can be seen. I leave the albergue of the church, when it turns out that I can check in earlier in the dormitory of the restaurant. It turns out to be a good choice because the beds are good and they have an excellent pilgrim meal. Also my walking buddies Brian and Owen stay here.

Staying overnight in Foncebadon, only half an hour from the Cruz Ferro, means that when I leave at 6 am on September 15^th (stage 26) and climb to the Cruz Ferro, it is still night when arriving.
The Cruz Ferro is located at 4922 feet and therefore a highlight on the Camino Frances. Not only literally but also figuratively speaking.

After all, here at the Cruz Ferro is the place where, for centuries, every pilgrim has left a stone (often brought from home). It is a symbol of handing over to God what you burden. As a result, a mighty cairn has formed at the foot of the long pole on top of which is the iron cross. The cairn is still growing. I also brought a stone from home, described with the text: “Live your life, Ultreia” (live your life and always go on) and place it at the foot of the cross.

 

I am extremely grateful that I am allowed to walk this Camino and that I arrive here and think about it for a moment. Then a feeling of deep joy overtakes me here. I am now part of the group of pilgrims who through the ages have done the same and shed their cares and burdens. Although it is still dark, just before I want to continue on my way, the moon suddenly appears between the clouds and Owen, who just arrived, can take a beautiful picture with the cross visible in the moon.

I feel so happy that I don’t really suffer much from the steep descent ahead of us.

From the Cruz Ferro the road goes downhill, we have to bridge 3280 feet in height and often descend over steep rock slabs.

 

 

After we have arrived again at an altitude of 1640 feet, the next two walking stages remain fairly flat. This can also be seen in the landscape because grape fields are now everywhere around us.
It is only mid-September, but here the grape harvest is already in full swing. Of course I have a chat with the grape pickers and take pictures.

 

Then, to my surprise, I am presented with a large bunch of grapes (I only have to hug apostle Santiago when I arrive). I am very grateful for it because the distance I have to walk today is almost 20 miles and the grapes, which taste delicious by the way, give me the extra boost I need.

Unlike the other parts of the Camino where the dogs bark, but are safely on heavy chains or behind fences, the dogs in Galicia run free. Fortunately, they usually don’t give me a glance when I pass them, walking along a ledge. Only once, at 5 a.m. an aggressive, barking black monster come after me. If I turn around, shout loudly at him and put out my sticks menacingly, this biting monster happily stops and I can continue on my way.

 

Before I arrive in Santiago de Compostela, I will meet Dick. He just arrived in Astorga with the motorhome and from there he can easily drive to the town of Melide to meet me on September 21^st , and we can stay there because there is a parking place for the motorhome. I’m really looking forward to our see Dick again. I’ve been out and about since August 19^th and I’ve found out that I miss Dick more and more.
So it makes sense that, when I spot him between de groups of pilgrims, we both get tears in our eyes and hug each other.

 

We have forgotten the crowds around us, we only have eyes for each other and walk incessantly talking to our motorhome, parked further away. It is great to see each other in person and we go out for a meal. In the restaurant we meet Dani from Ireland and Brian from South Korea so Dick can meet some of my hiking buddies.

The penultimate stage 33, I will spend the last night in an albergue. For the first time I have to make a reservation, which luckily works out at Albergue la Corona. From Sarria, a town about 72 miles from Santiago de Compostela, hundreds of pilgrims walk this Camino Frances. To get a Compostela, a pilgrim only has to walk 63 miles and completing the Camino is good on your curriculum vitae in Spain. The pilgrims at this moment are mostly Spaniards and are very different from those who have been on the road a longer time. The vast majority is not yet 20 years, carry ghetto blasters and makes a lot of noise. And what’s worse, I don’t recognize any of the pilgrims anymore.

When I arrive at the large square in front of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela at 11 am on September 23^rd2022, it is an emotional moment. Dick is already waiting and tears are streaming down my cheeks. We immediately walk to the pilgrim’s office. There is already a line to enter, but at this time, it is 11 am, the line is still negligible and soon I can show my “Credentials del Peregrino” at a counter.
I now have three credentials full of stamps and after a check on these stamps, I can receive my Compostela (proof that I walked this pilgrimage). It is written in my maiden name, Mathilde Nederhand, but that is oke.

Meanwhile Dick meet Danielle. She arrived a little earlier, but is still standing in the courtyard of the pilgrim’s office. Together we walk to the square in front of the Cathedral where we also meet other pilgrims and of course we take pictures. Although I am overjoyed that I arrived here safely and to be together with Dick again, I also feel a bit sad. This special Camino now really ended. After wandering around the square for a while, we walk back to the motorhome. We do not go to the 12 pm mass because it’s not allowed to enter the cathedral with a backpack. By the way, we hear from Rosie and Holly, who return from the cathedral, that entering doesn’t make much sense now. It is so crowded inside that it is not even possible to get a standing place.

In the afternoon we walk back to the center, meet Dirkje, stay some time on the square and watch the continuous flow of arriving pilgrims. Then we visit the special “Living room from the Low Lands” on the second floor at the pilgrim’s office, runned by the Dutch, where we drink a coffee and share our experiences on the Camino.

The next morning, Saturday September 24^th, we go to the Cathedral at 11.30 am. It is very busy and there is nowhere a sitting place to find. Fortunately we can sit on the edge of a pillar, in the front of the church. The sermon is unintelligible, takes a very long time and I feel sick, apparently I got a virus.

 

 

After the mass a number of men in red robes come forward and each grab a rope. We are lucky, they will swing the Botafumeiro, the largest censer in the world, through the cathedral and we look at it full of admiration, but also emotionally. What a wonderful end to a special trip.

 

 

 

 

After this event, Dick and I walk with Danielle from Brazil and Owen from the Philippines to a restaurant where we have a good meal together and after another visit to the cathedral together, now we enter through the Puerto del Perdon (this door is only open in a holy year) we say goodbye to each other and Dick and I walk back to the motorhome. There I go to my bed.

The next morning we drive to the town of Finisterre. Even though the walk to the cape is only 2 miles, I feel too sick to walk there. I am so glad that we already walked there on May 16^th and visited the end point of my journey then. Still I will have to come back to walk this last part. After staying an extra day in Finisterre, I am not sufficiently recovered and we decide to drive back home.

We follow a large part of the route that I just walked, because we want to make a stop in Saint Jean Pied de Port. Once we arrive there, we walk, again, through this nice medieval town to the Boutique de Pelerin. Finally I can say that I arrived safely in Santiago, but we can also buy walking sticks for Dick. It’s the same brand I have (they did a good job to me) but of course in a different color. The sticks are a birthday present for Dick from Hannah and Henk. I’m glad he has sticks too and I’m sure he’ll love walking with them.

 

 

Below the Compostela issued, a table with the overnight places and distances as well as the certificate of the distance walked from Saint Jean Pied de Port to Santiago.

 

Going out again, August 2022

Dick knows me well enough to know that it’s better not to stay at home. Then I get nervous. I’ve been home for a week now after my mini-pilgrimage and already packed my backpack three times. So, we decide to go out for another two weeks with our motorhome. I quickly make a route to France and when Dick has contacted Cor, it is also certain that we will visit them in Liart on our way back. It may also be necessary to make some arrangements for the trip that Dick and Cor are going to make.

After celebrating Henk’s birthday with the family on July 29^th and a last scuba-dive in the Oosterschelde, I put everything I want to take in the RV in our living room on Sunday afternoon and on Monday, August 1^st, around noon, Dick leaves home to get our RV out of the storage. He has been gone for a while when I discover that he has forgotten the motorhome keys, so I quickly get into the car and can pick him up a little later at the bus stop in front of our car garage, after which I drop him off at the metro station and drive back home.

At 2 pm Dick is back with our Frankia and I can load the things inside that have to go with us. Meanwhile, Dick put the bikes inside and fills our water tank. At 3.30 pm we can lock our house and drive away. It is still vacation time in the Netherlands so, even though we are driving on one of the busiest roads in our country, we can continue without a traffic jam to Nuenen.

There is only one campervan parked and we have enough space to spend the night. This parking lot next to the scouting site is not special, but we know that there is always a place to park. The temperature has now risen to 75 degrees Fahrenheit and as soon as we are parked, we open all our windows wide. Later in the week this temperature turns out to be cool, then a temperature of 90 degrees and more is normal. And you must know that we don’t have airco in our Frankia. It is now 5 pm and we think we did enough, so we drink a glass of wine before I start cooking. The simple meal with Greek seasoned potatoes and small sausages (chipolatas) tastes good. In the evening we watch the news, but it doesn’t get very late because by 9 pm I am already in bed and fall asleep quickly. Dick follows a little later.

Tuesday morning, we wake up at 7 am by the sound of roaring engines driving back and forth past the motorhome. This place is popular with motorcycle driving schools, but actually they always start at 8 am. Now in high summer they apparently deviate from this time. Oh well, it’s okay because now we’re leaving early. The route through Germany is dead quiet and consists for the most part of autobahn, which means that we arrive in Hillesheim in the Vulcan Eifel at the end of the morning. It is really noticeable that we are in a volcanic area because the closer we get to our destination, the hillier it gets. It is dead quiet on the market in the center and soon we discover the parking space where motorhomes can be parked and park our Frankia there between the regular cars. Of course, we drink a cup of coffee and then, it is now noon and therefore the hottest part of the day, we walk into the town. It is really quiet everywhere and after paying for the parking at the tourist information, we walk into the hills to look for some geocaches.

 

It is warm, around 83 degrees, but on top of the mountain there is a cooling wind so we are not bothered by the fact that there are no shadow spots in the far distance. We do have to climb steeply to get to the plateau. But we enjoy ourselves, find some geocaches and have a great view over the valley. After 7 miles we are back in town. Dick walked enough today but I want to take a look around this, unexpectedly nice, old town. It is dominated by the remains of a castle and many of the walls and towers are still standing.

 

It’s special to walk along this city wall all alone. When I see an outdoor shop, I ask if they also sell point protectors for my walking sticks and if that turns out to be the case, I quickly walk back to the Frankia to get my walking-sticks. After my mini-pilgrimage, the rubber protectors were completely worn out and the spare protectors that I had received from Nel during the walk, now also shows deep signs of wear. Fortunately, the rubber protectors seem to fit so that during my big trip I no longer have to listen to the “click clack” of uncapped walking-sticks. Finally, I am back at the Frankia. We drink some soda’s and then it’s time to leave.

 

Dick has discovered a Thai restaurant. It’s nearby and with good reviews, so we walk there at 7 pm. We are lucky, there is still a table available and soon we enjoy our starter followed by Pad Thai and green curry with chicken. What a delicious food. It is still very warm and the thermometer shows 86 degrees. With a full stomach, we really had too much food, we slowly walk back to the motorhome and search for some geocaches. Again, we enjoy the city wall, which is quite impressive from the outside. It cools down very slowly inside the motorhome, so during the night we keep all our windows wide open. It feels a bit cooler towards the morning (64 degrees) and then it is nice to have a blanket covering our sheet.

Wednesday morning, August 3^rd, we don’t get up until 8 am. Despite the fact that we are parked in the center it is very quiet. As soon as we have showered and opened the door, the heat falls on us. It is already 70 degrees and it promises to be even warmer today.
After having a good breakfast and washing our dishes, we dump our gray and black water (my job) while Dick fills the motorhome with clean water and then we drive off. Soon we stop at the Réwé supermarket to return our empty bottles (German bottles can only be returned in Germany) and then we continue our way. Because we can’t buy my beloved frühstücksaft (breakfast fruit juice) this town, Dick also parks in the center of Trier for a while, but unfortunately the kind of juice I want to have is not available there either, so we drive straight through the old city of Trier where the beautiful old gate smiles at us. One day we should definitely stay longer here. The road follows the river Saar and is quiet. Only the huge campgrounds along the river are overcrowded.

When we arrive in Mettlach it is already 88 degrees and quite warm. There is really no one in this sun-drenched parking lot and we quickly park the camper along a row of trees. We’ll be able to sit down there in the afternoon. But not now because, just like every day, we go out for a walk in the heat of the day. First to the center of town where we pay for the parking at the tourist information and then we walk to the other side of the river to look for the geocache that we couldn’t find last time.

In the meantime, the cache owner has performed maintenance and so it is now easy to find this cache. Of course, we can’t resist the terrace of an ice cream shop in the center of Mettlach and soon we are both sitting at a huge ice cream, filled with fruit, that tastes delicious.

While Dick slowly walks home, with yesterday’s 5 miles with steep climbs and today’s 4 miles, he thinks he has walked more than enough. But I continue to the Aldi, a supermarket located outside of town. Not that I need anything there, but it’s good to walk still a bit, even in the heat. And so, with now 95 degrees, I walk a total of 6 miles and I manage to do this. I’m glad I’m back at the Frankia around 4.30 pm, where we drink a non-alcoholic beer. And then, yes again, I walk to the shop next to our parking lot. I buy a nice bag in which my iPad mini fits well and also find shampoo in solid form as if it is soap. Ideal of course to take with me on my trip. You only have to let it foam in your hands and massage through your hair and your hair is washed. What an invention, I buy that. Dick has now lowered our awning and despite the heat we sit comfortably under it, but it takes until late in the evening before it cools down a bit. I’m glad that a great part of the evening we will have a seat on the terrace of the Abtei Brau next door.

 

At 7 pm we walk to the restaurant. There is still enough space to sit down. You notice the difference with weekend days, now it’s really quiet. We chat with some other guests, drink the good draft beer, enjoy the warm summer evening and of course the excellent food.

It is not till 9 pm that we walk back, only 100 yards. There we sit some time outside and talk to each other before going to bed. Again, all windows are wide open and again it is warm until very late in the evening. But nevertheless, we sleep well. I now know that you don’t really sleep well when it’s cold.

 

Thursday, August 4th, we wake up around 8 am and as the Netto supermarket is already open, I buy fresh bread rolls for our breakfast. After filling up with water, which has to be done with the watering can and therefore takes some time, we drive away. On top of the cliff, we stop at a Réwé supermarket where I actually manage to buy a few bottles of frühstücksaft. Great, because this was the last place in Germany where that was still possible. Not much later we cross the river Moselle and arrive in Luxembourg. Although the fuel prices in Germany are a lot lower than in the Netherlands, in Luxembourg the fuel is still 15 cents cheaper so we fill up our fuel tanks and then continue our way through the vineyards of Luxembourg. Not for very long because again a national border appears and we enter into France. The road is still not busy and at noon we enter the marina grounds in Pont á Mouson. Here is a parking lot in the full sun.
It’s lunchtime so everything is closed and we cannot pay. The office reopens at 2 pm so we take a look around. Even though we stay in a beautiful place along the river, we cannot enter the water here to cool down (It’s a harbor and therefore forbidden to swim) and meanwhile the temperature rises to 104 degrees. So, after 1.5 hours we leave this place and drive a little further south to the town of Toul.

We stayed here years ago and I don’t remember much about it, but there is a shady spot available. Unfortunately, we have to wait a while before we can park the Frankia there because there is an ambulance having a picnic.
However, after half an hour, lunchtime is over and the ambulance leaves and we can park in the shade of the large old trees. It is now 97 degrees, too hot to walk around, so we grab our chairs and sit in the grass next to the motorhome. With a soda because we can’t get enough of drinks at this moment.
At 3 pm the sky is covered by clouds and it seems to cool down a bit. But looks can be deceiving, it is still about 95 degrees, but fortunately a few streets in the town are in the shade.

In the cathedral and the adjacent cloisters, it is wonderfully cool and we wander around there for some time. End of the afternoon we walk back to the motorhome in the still burning sun.
Fortunately, the shadow of the trees is waiting there and we can recover in that slightly cooler environment. We still keep our hiking boots on because soon we will walk back to town to have dinner.

Opposite the Turkish restaurant where we used to get food (now closed for 6 weeks due to holidays), we found a small French restaurant that looks cozy.
So, we walk there at 7 pm and because there is a table available on the terrace, we have a seat and a little later, a nice glass of wine. The street is now in the shade and there is a strong wind blowing, but it is still 73 degrees, so it is nice outside.
We both order a burger that is served with homemade chips and tastes delicious. We do not regret choosing this restaurant.

 

On the way back we see two animals in the small streams along the city wall. They look like rats but a French woman says they are not rats but they arrived here from Canada. She can’t give me the name but when we see a poster later in the week with the same animals, it turns out to be Beavers. These are clearly baby’s because by far they are not a yard long and they do not weigh 44 pounds. We look at them for a long time and thanks to the fact that my small camera has a 25 x zoom, I manage to take a picture before they suddenly disappear. At home we sit outside for a long time until it gets really dark. It stays very hot during the night and cools badly. For the first time this holiday we are really late in bed. Just as we fall asleep, it starts to thunder and the wind blows so hard that we wake up. Dick closes the roof hatches and sets the windows in ventilation position. Not long after it starts to rain hard. Now it cools down and we fall into a deep sleep.

On Friday morning we don’t wake up until 8.30 am. That’s what happens when you’re haunting so late at night. It has cooled down quite a bit and the thermometer show only 71 degrees. For the first time in weeks the sky is cloudy. When we fill up with water, our hose connection breaks and only with great difficulty Dick manage to make another connection on the hose. The diameter of this hose is many times smaller than the connecting pieces, so it will not fit. But duct tape and scalding hot water allows a makeshift repair so we can continue filling the water tank. Unfortunately, we can’t leave when the water tank is full because at the end of the narrow road a garbage truck has problems and blocks everything. But after 20 minutes everything is resolved and we can continue our way.

It is now 11.30 am. Fortunately we don’t have to drive that far and we arrive in Remiremont before noon. There is a large parking lot for motorhomes near the train-station and there is still plenty of space at this time of the day. So, we park the Frankia in a place where two of them fit (never seen so much space in France) and drink some coffee.
Even though the temperature is fortunately not so high anymore, it is only 77 degrees, Dick doesn’t like going out for a walk in the hottest part of the day, so I walk alone to the supermarket that should be further away. There is no end to the road but finally I find the market and after looking around inside (I don’t dare to buy anything because I don’t have a cooling bag with me) I walk back via another way. Although this road is considerably shorter, it is not successful as I have to walk over a narrow ridge along a busy road and also have to descend a steep slope to get back on the path home. No, then the way there was a lot better, even if it was twice as long to walk.

After we have had a cup of coffee, we walk together into the town of Remiremont. It is not very special but there is an old church with a beautiful crypt and the palaces of the abbess who lived here, are impressive. Because we don’t actually come across any suitable restaurants, we buy some lettuce and meat. Now we don’t have to go out tonight and can stay comfortably at the motorhome. Due to the dropped temperature, it is now 83 degrees, it is pleasant to sit outside and we stay outside until 7.30 pm. Inside we have dinner (lettuce with bread and meat) because in the meantime the wind started to blow and makes sitting outside very unpleasant. Although I don’t understand why the French always leave in the evening, that also happens in this parking lot and soon almost all places are empty.

We now have an undisturbed view of the railway and can see how impressive the TGV is (Train Grande Vitesse, train with high speed) because at 8 pm it is parked in front of our Frankia.
Because it cooled down, we don’t have all the windows wide open. Even on the ventilation position, enough fresh air comes in to cool the inside.

Saturday, August 6^th, we wake up at 8.30 am. The sun is already shining and it is 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Really pleasant after the heat of the past few days. After our breakfast and of course the filling and dumping of our tanks we leave Remiremont. It’s Black Saturday (it’s called this name because there is a lot of holiday traffic with many accidents) and the roads are crowded with coming and going vacationers, so we’re glad we only have to drive 18 miles.
Soon we arrive in Gerardmer, a town at 2295 feet altitude, which is called the “pearl of the Vosges”. It turns out to be a picturesque place, full of tourists and situated on a lake that looks very inviting. But we don’t have time for water-pleasure. At home I solved a geocache puzzle that will take us to the coordinates of a geocache and that is our goal today. After the Frankia is parked on a huge parking lot in the middle of town, we walk towards it.

Actually, it’s more of a climb, because the road leads over a part of the route of the Tour de France and has a gradient of 13 to 16 percent. But that’s good because now I can practice walking in the mountains. As we climb higher and higher, we enjoy the view of the town and the lake is getting more and more beautiful. After we have found the geocache, we have to descent and go back to the village. This time we have an endless and steep descent and for the first time I think Dick is right when he calls me slave driver. The climb down requires a lot of our muscles and knees. For me it’s good training because in two weeks I have to cross the Pyrenees mountains but poor Dick…..
Eventually we arrive in the center of the old village with stiff muscles. To get rid of the stiffness we make a walk along the lake. It’s busy, everyone has had the same thought. This trail around the lake is therefore very pleasant.

A large rock is the end point for us and we stay there for a while before we leisurely walk back to town. After 5 miles of walking around (climbing and descending) we are back at the parking lot. While Dick takes a chair outside the motorhome, under the awning, I walk to town again, to make some extra miles and buy food for tonight. Because it gets windy late in the afternoon, we don’t stay outside. Even inside, with all windows open, it doesn’t feel very comfortable, the cold wind is no longer pleasant and at 6 pm we also close some windows. It’s just cooler here, up in the mountains.
There are many restaurants in town but we decide not to go out eating. Actually, no restaurant has the menu combination we are looking for, so we just eat lettuce and bake the small sausages that we bought in Germany. In the evening we watch some TV and we also read something before we go to bed at 10 pm, like almost every day.

On Sunday we wake up at 8 am and I go out to buy a fresh baguette from the bakery on the corner. There I am taken back to my childhood when the cuckoo clock, with a real cuckoo, calls 9 times. How funny. You used to have these clocks everywhere in Switzerland in the 60s and 70s, but afterwards I never saw such clocks in operation again. Fortunately, there is a long line at the bakery so that I can fully enjoy it.

After breakfast we leave. The back roads we follow are very quiet and we make good progress. Near our destination, the town of Vaivre et Montoille, it gets very busy. There is a biker’s festival, given the many motorcycles. We did not suspect it but to our surprise there is still a spot available in the parking lot for motorhomes and we park our Frankia there.
Of course, we drink a coffee while Dick put the coordinates of geocaches around the lake in our GPS and then, it is now noon (yes again at the hottest time of the day) we start our walk along the lake.

There are a number of geocaches hidden and a sandy path leads us along this shallow lake. It is a nice walk and there is a breeze so it’s not too hot, at least for the first half of the walk. The temperature is 77 degrees and that is good walking weather. Unfortunately, the other side of the lake is sheltered from the wind, so it is considerably warmer there. Dick is clearly more bothered by the heat than I am and the water we brought with us disappears quickly. I have to laugh when I see Dick’s face as he drinks. He doesn’t like drinking water anyway and drinking this almost “boiling” water has a special effect. Unfortunately, the only terrace we encounter is that of a restaurant. You can have a drink there, but at this moment you have to take a meal and as we don’t want to eat yet, we continue our walk. Fortunately, the walk around the lake is only 4 miles and we can relax in the motorhome a little later.

We don’t want to stay too long because inside it’s 97 degrees and therefore it is too hot. So, we leave again, now to the area next to us, where the bikers festival takes place. The festivities are already over, but it’s nice to walk past the many stalls, full of stuff for bikers and of course there is a strong American influence.

There are caps with the American flag, license plates from America and mannequins with clothing from the 50s. Given the prices that are asked for everything, it is better to pick them up in America yourself. Hopefully we are able to do that next year. Finally, after 5 miles walk, we are back at the Frankia. We put our chairs outside and sit in the shade. When the sun has set, it cools down very quickly, instead of 86 degrees it is suddenly 73 degrees. So quickly we go inside. It is now 9 pm and I don’t stay for a long time on the couch. Slowly my eyelids lower and before 10 pm we arrived in dreamland.

Monday morning, August 8th at 8 am is the sun already shining in a steel blue sky. There is no shop to be seen in the furthest distance, so no bakery either and again we have breakfast with survival bread. When we leave, we take French back roads and again we drive all alone over the French countryside. Where has everyone gone?

 

At the end of the morning, we arrive in Langres, a city built in the same way as Laon, located high on a hilltop and walled. Unfortunately, the parking for motorhomes is not really special and we decide to drive on. Our final destination will be Chaumont, where we arrive around noon. The parking here is located on a marina and despite the fact that it is a sun-drenched plain, it still looks nice. We park the Frankia along the water of the Canal and sit outside. The sun shines on the other side of the motorhome so we have plenty of shade and because there is a wind blowing, it is actually not too warm.

Because Dick’s favorite shirt is dirty, I wash it with some socks and sports tops and soon everything is hanging on the clothesline. Wind and sun work well together because everything is dry within three hours. A good test of how long it takes to dry clothes in warm weather. Dick likes it here and stays with the motorhome but I walk to the nearby supermarket. It is only one mile and easy to do and after walking back and forth twice, I have soft drinks for Dick (agrum zero and tonic zero) and food for tonight because also in the vicinity of this harbor, there is not even a restaurant in sight. And if it was here, it would be closed on Mondays.

At 8 pm I prepare some burgers; we eat them with lettuce and baguette. Hopefully it’s enough but Dick says yes. The older we get the less food we need. I completely disagree with him because I am quite hungry. But maybe that’s because of my walking back and forth. Fortunately, when we start to eat, the sun disappears behind the trees and again it cools down quickly. We stay at a very pleasant spot along the canal and it is quiet although quite a few motorhomes arrive later in the evening.

The next morning, Tuesday, August 9^th we are awake at 8 am and after breakfast (again with survival bread) Dick moves the motorhome to refuel at the water tap. It is already very busy because three French motorhomes arrived. They want to stay together and the spot in front of our motorhome is the most suitable. We don’t mind that we leave today because the silence and also our view is now hard to find. Soon we drive north on the French back roads. It is quiet again and you notice that it is still vacation time. The road leads us past endless, freshly harvested, wheat fields and only when we approach the capital of Champagne, Epernay, the first grape vines appear.

Unfortunately, the parking in Hautvillers, located in the middle of the vineyards, is too narrow and sloping for our Frankia so we cannot spend the night here and we drive on and eventually arrive in Laon end of the afternoon. There is ample space along the city wall. No wonder because it sizzles here with heat on this parking strip, but we nevertheless park the Frankia and walk to the medieval town.

Unfortunately, our favorite restaurant Agora turns out to be closed, it won’t open again until Thursday and so we are looking for another restaurant. That is not easy because in the main street all restaurants are either permanently closed or on holiday for 5 to 6 weeks. Weird they are closed in the middle of the high season. Finally, after wandering around for a long time, we find an Italian restaurant with an appealing menu. It is striking, however, while we walk around that more shops are closed permanently. Unfortunately, because the charm of wandering through a town is lost when you walk from one closed shop window to another. We also pay a visit to the impressive cathedral. It remains special that they were able to create such impressive buildings in the year 1100.

Back in the motorhome we arrive in an oven, it is so hot inside, 104 degrees. Fortunately, the wind is blowing a bit so when we open the windows, it cools down a bit inside. Oh well, we get used to this heat. When we walk to the restaurant at 7 pm, the narrow medieval streets are now blocking the sun and we walk in the shade. The terrace where we want to have dinner is also in the shade and there is a cooling wind that makes it comfortable. The food tastes good. My spaghetti with carbonara sauce is tasty and Dick’s food with a meat skewer is also very good and nicely served. After our dessert we walk back at ease through the medieval streets with cobble stones. Again, we open all our windows and not much later we fall asleep, despite the fact that inside it is still at least 90 degrees. I think the red wine is also to blame for this.

Wednesday morning, August 10^th, I walk to the bakery to get a fresh baguette. That always tastes good. And then we drive down the mountain pass to the valley, looking for a supermarket. Stupid that we never write down the coordinates of a store because now we really have to drive around before we find a large LeClerc supermarket. There is a huge parking lot but it is almost full. Fortunately, we find a spot in a corner, where our Frankia fits, and we walk inside. Everything we need to have a delicious barbecue with Cor and Esmé is present in this supermarket and not much later we are on our way again. Still with a stopover in the small town of Rozoy to dump.

Perhaps it is good that we arrive here because the rooster and chickens that roam around, are clearly looking for something. Not for people but for water and that last one flows down from our grey-water tank so they are running to the motorhome. I fill the cap of our toilet tank with clean water and in no time, it is drunk by the chickens. We did a good deed. Because it will be warmer later this day, we also put a bucket filled with water in the bushes. Now the chickens have something to drink for the rest of the day. It means that we arrive at 12.30 pm at the house of Cor and Esmé. That is not entirely without problems. The narrow road is actually only suitable for one passenger car and now we encounter a large tractor and two vans. Fortunately, it has been dry for weeks and both we and the tractor have to crawl into the verge and can just pass each other. I wonder or this is also possible in the wet season.
After a cup of coffee, Esmé and I chat, while the men focus on installing the new kitchen. Cor has already fixed the preparatory work. The ventilation, pipes and drainage are all there, but now everything still has to be put in place. Also a few problems must be solved, such as the crooked wall for which both have yet to come up with a solution. But with two technicians that is no problem and the men are making steady progress. At 7 pm it’s time to call it a day and we have a nice chat on the terrace in the garden.

It is warm, the thermometer now shows 95 degrees, so one beer is quickly followed by another. But the food tastes all the better later in the evening. Cor is really an expert with the BBQ and the burger and chicken-skewers are excellent. Even though we chat for a long time, at 11:30 pm we feel really sleepy and go to bed. We don’t even notice that our head is touching our pillow.

Thursday morning August 11^th we wake up at 7:30 am and after showering and getting dressed, Dick takes my bike out and I ride to the village of Liart to buy fresh baguettes. It is a nice trip through the meadows and the distance is only 2 miles. The only shop in the village is already crowded and a long line of people forms for the baguettes. As always, this is the case in France at the bakery.

After a good breakfast, the men are back to work in the kitchen while Esmé and I wash the dishes and then we do various chores. It’s going to be another hot day. In an hour the temperature has already risen from 68 to 77 degrees and around noon the thermometer points to 86 degrees. After I’ve updated my story on my iPad mini, I can’t resist looking for blackberries in the sweltering sun. Even though I have a stick with me, it does not prevent me from losing my footing on the steep slope of the ditch and I slide down through the thorns. Not a really handy move because both my legs are now bloody. And the blackberries…. These are scattered all over the ditch.

Hopefully the ants are happy with it. I quickly walk back to the motorhome where I clean my legs and also remove the blood and blackberry marks from my clothing. After complaining to the men (they don’t pay attention because placing the kitchen is more important) I walk outside again, follow the road a bit and find new blackberries. This time they are a lot more accessible. Finally, I have a bucket full of blackberries. They are not very tasty so after I rinse them, I cook them. I hope this blackberry puree may be tasty in the yogurt or ice cream. Unfortunately, we don’t have either one so we cannot try. Around 7 pm the men stop working, they take a shower and we have a drink on the terrace. Late in the evening I cook spaghetti while Esmé makes a salad. Dinner tastes fine to us. When the big full moon rises above the row of trees we go to bed and sleep like roses.

Just like yesterday, we wake up on Friday morning at 7.30 am and again I cycle to the village of Liart in the still cool morning, to arrive a little later with croissants and fresh baguettes. We have breakfast together, chat and then Dick and I leave. In Revin we stop to dump, always important if we stayed in the same place for a few days. Of course, we also buy some groceries and fill up with fuel. The diesel in France is still cheaper than in our country. I also sniff around in the bazar next to the parking lot and there I find what I have been looking for, for a long time. A granite funerary monument for my parents’ grave.

Via Facetime I show it to my sister Hannah who likes it too and so I buy it and walk back to the motorhome. You find such small monuments on all graves in France and now we will place one at my parent’s grave.

It is now at least 95 degrees, but we also want to look for a few geocaches. To my surprise, we find a spot on the boulevard in Bergen op Zoom to park. For the first time we arrive here in high summer and it is busy. But also, cozy.

It is good outside because here, along the coast, some wind is blowing. We also could park the Frankia largely in the shade of the tall trees along the boulevard and it is not really hot inside either. Now that we are parked next to a small lake, I can try out whether it is possible to swim in shirt and underpants, instead of a bathing suit. In particular, I want to know if I don’t look really ridiculous. So, towards the evening I put that on. If it can go through, Dick has to take a picture, then I won’t take a swimsuit on my Camino walk. My thin white shirt is too transparent, but my green yellow Camino shirt, that Hannah and Henk gave me, is fine. Now I know this too.
Until late in the evening we sit outside, eat food from a Turkish restaurant, watch all the people strolling on the boulevard and enjoy the sunset. We don’t go to bed before 11 pm.

The next morning, we get up at 7.30 am, have breakfast with our last survival bread and then we drive home. It is getting warmer and warmer but compared to the temperature in our house, it is 102 degrees there, it’s cool outside. Yet we are getting warmer by carrying stuff back and forth. Not everything goes inside our house. We leave some clothes in the motorhome. After all, Dick will be taking it out again next week. Unfortunately, the parking lot behind our house is so busy with cars and caravans, returning from vacation, that we can’t park our Frankia here overnight. So as soon as Dick has cleaned the carpet with soap (now it can dry in the hot sun) he drives the motorhome to the storage. We did not clean it outside, currently that’s not allowed due to the persistent drought and heat, but it’s clean inside and the beds are covered with fresh bedding, so Dick and Cor will be able to move in next week.

The Camino is calling

I don’t really know how it started. Perhaps the desire to walk this pilgrimage is in my genes. After all, my mother and father also loved to hike and started a walk from my mother’s birthplace in Millingen to look for the sources of the river Rhine.
When I bought the book “A walk for the Sunshine” in the Appalachian Mountains, four years ago, which describes a walking trip on the Appalachian Trail, the desire to walk a Camino became stronger. A factor that may also have played a role was the discovery of a lump in my breast, mid 2018. After the operation I felt, out of gratitude that I was still alive, I had to walk the Camino: “To celebrate life”.

When in October 2021 my sister Hannah and her husband Henk started cycling the Camino to Santiago, I couldn’t get enough of their stories and photos.

It really becomes clear that the Camino is calling in November 2021. Dick and I arrive, together with my niece Inge and her husband Paul, at the Cruz Ferro, a high point on the Camino Frances. Paul brought his father’s ashes (who also walked this Camino), which, later that week, they would scatter at the end of the world in Fisterre. I got emotional in this remote place and tears streamed down my cheeks, it was so beautiful up here, high in the mountains. And that with winter-, cold weather, the ground covered with snow and surrounded by low-hanging clouds through which every now and then a ray of sunlight managed to get through. It was a magical moment in a magical place and it was nice to share this with my sister Hannah via FaceTime. Our parents would certainly have found this place special.

Dick and I don’t hesitate for a moment when it became clear that in September 2022 Dick is going to make a trip to Northern France with his diving friend Cor.
Now the time has come for me to really start walking the Camino.
Then everything accelerates. Dick and I go to Utrecht where I join the Dutch Society of St. James and buy a pilgrim pass. That same week I attend an information meeting of that society in Delft where I receive a lot of information about what it means to walk a Camino. Before I know it, Dick books the bus to St. Jean Pied de Port in the French Pyrenees and then it is certain that I will start my journey on August 20^th, 2022. I am hesitant about participating in the mini pilgrimage from Maastricht to Roermond that is held in honor of St. James and will take place from July 20^th to 24^th 2022. Do I have to participate in that? Dick puts an end to my hesitation and just sign me up during our vacation. Now, at the beginning of July, I am really happy with this decision because it offers me the opportunity to experience what it is to walk for several days in a row and to camp with a group of people in a tent. After all, I will soon experience that in the albergues along the way.
Ultimately, this decision also means that I have to adjust the vacation route with our motorhome.

Together with Dick, I want to look at a few places where I will walk later this year. And of course, we have to walk, after all, we, I mean I, have to practice. This means that our bicycles are left unemployed during this motorhome trip. So, during our holiday in May 2022, after leaving the southern part of Spain, the northern part is really dominated by the Camino. How special it is to walk with Dick from the town of Fisterre to the Cape. Here, on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, the end of the world really does exist.
Under the watchful eye of Messire Jacques, (St. James) we unfortunately do not see the sun dying. I am referring here to the third verse of the Pilgrim’s Song: “Ultreia”.
This text of this French song is as follows:

Et tous la bas au bout du continent
Messire Jacques nous attend
depuis toujours son sourire fixe
le soleil qui meurt au Finistere.

The low-hanging clouds cover all the sun’s rays. In this place, where boulders descend to the turbulent ocean, we find the effigy of Saint James under the stone cross. And while Dick waits here on the rocks, I descend further over the large boulders to the ocean. It’s very special here at this end of the world.

We continue our motorhome trip in an easterly direction through northern Spain, regularly ending up in places, the Camino Frances (the route I will walk) also follows. Of course, we stop at the monastery in Roncesvalles where we wander, look at the monastery (the place where pilgrims stay overnight) and of course we light a candle. The next day, after a long descent on mountain roads, we arrive in St. Jean Pied de Port where I will start my journey.

The pilgrim shop “Boutique du Pellerin” on the Rue de la Citadelle is too tempting to pass by and so, a few hours later, we leave this outdoor store loaded with stuff. Well helped by the friendly owners, I was able to buy an important part of my equipment.

When, after a fantastic trip, we are back home at the beginning of June, I pack everything in my backpack. It’s the first time but it all fits and the weight around 19.5 pounds should be portable. We will see. And soon too. The Camino group app that regularly keeps me informed about the upcoming mini pilgrimage comes up with news more often and makes me feel more and more excited about it. And then the moment comes when I really try my backpack on a walk with all the stuff, I need on my first pilgrimage.

Wednesday I will take train to Maastricht, so Monday July 18^th seems to be the right day to make a test run. Because I’m in the center of Rotterdam anyway, I decide to walk back home. Now I can go to the Decathlon store to buy a mat to sit on (this one was still missing). It is warm and at 12.30 pm the temperature continues to rise; it is now 84 degrees. So, when a bus passes me on the last 1.5 miles, I get in anyway. After all, tonight another walk awaits me.

At 7 pm the three of us stay in the parking next to the lake of Zevenhuizen. Besides Dick, Geordie, my diving buddy, also joins us and we start our walk around the lake between the hundreds of sunbathers.
The temperature is still 88 degrees, everyone lies in- or near the water and is enjoying a burger that is cooked on one of the many barbecues that can be found along the lake. In any case, it smells very tempting. Unfortunately, after 3.5 miles of walking I get some trouble with the attachment of my muscle to my hip. Fortunately, we manage to reach the car, walking a little slower. I am now seriously worried because the day after tomorrow my mini pilgrimage starts.

I am relieved when the pain disappears quickly and on Wednesday July 20^th 2022 I can leave with a good spirit. Of course, Dick and I arrive too early at the central station of Rotterdam. Fortunately, after a while, the other pilgrims trickle in, one by one. It is not difficult to know who is going to walk, because the backpacks with sleeping mats and mountain boots are easy to recognize. Waved goodbye by Dick, the train to the southern part of our country leaves and we have the opportunity to get to know each other better. Frank, Tekla and I chat without ceasing and before we know we arrive in Maastricht. In a pub, opposite the train station, we are warmly welcomed by the other organizers of this mini pilgrimage.

Netta, Guus, John and Jan, as well as Nine welcome us. We had already acquainted Huub because he was at the train station and arranged that we could leave Rotterdam together on a group ticket. I can’t remember if Tjitske and Gijs were also there, but luckily later on, we get enough time to get to know them too.

 

We are handed a goodie bag with a beautiful St. James shell with our name, a practical small daypack and an information booklet about the festivities in Roermond. After a briefing from John and having coffee with pie, we leave for our first miles. The temperature has risen, but with 75 degrees Fahrenheit and some wind it is good weather to walk. When there is second stop to have lunch, soon after our first stop, I prefer to walk on and because Frans does the same, I ask if I can join him. Frans has been so wise to transfer the route, written by the organization, to his phone. A line shows the road to our final destination, the small town of Catsop, and before we realize, we arrive, after 8.1 miles, at campground Catsop. Here on a large lawn, next to the cooking tent and the shoe tent, two large army tents, called Santiago and Jacobus, are set up.

 

As we are the first to arrive, we have the luxury of choosing a bed next to the entrance of the tent and after my sleeping bag has been spread over the bed, our first way is to the showers. How wonderful it is to let water run over you after this walk.
Once I have clean clothes on, I’m going to wash out my sweat-soaked clothes.
Unfortunately, when I return to the tent, I seem to have lost my bag with pegs and clothesline, so I have to spread out my wet clothes over the hedge.
The loss of my clothesline does not let me go and I regularly walk back to the showers (they are now occupied) to ask if my clothesline bag is left there. Dick is right when he says that it is very stupid to take something, you need outside, inside the shower. Because it is quite difficult to dry clothes without a line and pegs and no one has seen anything.

 

 

I walk to the campsite manager. No one brought him anything, but 15 minutes later he walks to the tent where he hands me over my clothesline bag so I can finally fix a clothesline and attach my clothes to it.

I’ll have to be more careful with it in the future. When my laundry finally flutters on the line, the other walkers are all arrived and I take a seat to finally drink a glass of beer.
The cans of beer are tirelessly removed from the refrigerator and with a wide smile handed over by Gijs and Guus. What a service. We enjoy a tasty soup. It turns out to be a foretaste of a culinary treat. Tjitske and Nine, supported by Gijs and Guus, appear to be able to prepare delicious meals for all of us. It’s fun every night.

Although the weather forecast for the evening is not really good and the sky is getting darker due to the oncoming clouds, we seem to keep it dry and, in the evening, we can enjoy the troubadour and storyteller, Gery Groot Zwaaftink from the Achterhoek (region in eastern part of our country). We listen with fascination to his special stories and songs in both Dutch and the dialect, spoken in that part of the country. The story of the passing by camel driver and the wealthy landowner will stay with me for a long time. In short, that story comes down to the following:

A camel driver arrives at an oasis and passes the gardens of a wealthy landowner after a tiring journey through the desert. He thinks how wonderful it is to be able to live there and not have to travel around. At the same time, the wealthy landowner, seeing the herd approaching, thinks how wonderful it must be to roam freely with camels, instead of being stuck in one place. Ripe fruit hangs over the wall of the estate, which is so enticing to the lead camel that it walks up to it and begins to eat it.
The landowner is so angry that he throws a stone at the camel. This stone hits the head of the camel that it kills. Then the camel driver gets so angry that he throws back a stone. Unfortunately, it also ends up unlucky and the landowner falls dead.
The camel driver is taken to court by the landowner’s sons. The judge must sentence him to death. There is no other option, because this punishment is prescribed by law. The camel driver then asks for three days respite to make arrangements at home. He solemnly promises to return after those three days, to serve his sentence. Neither the sons nor the public want to know about this and the judge decides that this is only possible if someone wants to take his place. After a long silence an old man comes forward who wants to do this and he is locked up while the camel driver leaves.

After 3 days the camel driver has not returned and the old man is led to the scaffold. Just before the executioner can do his job, a little boy hears hoofbeats and shouts that the executioner has to wait a little longer. Someone is arriving and sure enough, it is the camel driver on his horse. When the judge asks him why he is coming back to die, he says that he had to find and return jewelry that he had in custody for a widow. If he hadn’t done this, his family would be considered a thief. After returning the jewelry, his youngest son kept clinging to him and would not let him go, so he could only leave his house at night, when his son was sound asleep. When asked, the old man tells the judge that he had faith in the man who gave his word to come back and if he had not returned, then his life had no value because he could no longer have faith in humanity. After hearing the stories, the judge decides to change the death sentence and the camel driver is ordered to pay the sons of the landowner in silver.
In dead silence we hear this fantastic story. After a little break we enjoy still some sensitive songs before a thunderstorm breaks loose and we all go inside our tents.

During the night the temperature dropped enormously and it is very humid too due to the rain. Although my sleeping bag would normally suffice (2 days ago the nights were warm) now, it is really below par and I am freezing. And I have lots of warm sleeping bags at home.  It also doesn’t help that the camp bed is rock hard and I didn’t bring one of my many (soft) sleeping mats either. The cold just soaks into my body and I don’t sleep really well. But that’s part of a pilgrimage, I guess. When we get up at 6.30 am next morning, everything is damp, but a nice warm shower does wonders and a little bit later we sit outside for breakfast. That’s possible because it’s dry. Tjitske and Nine, together with Gijs and Guus, packed large tables with food and in addition to bread, crackers and rusks with different types of toppings, there is also muesli. We are spoiled and soon we sit together, having a good breakfast with a cup of coffee or tea.

After washing the huge numbers of cups, glasses, plates and cutlery, we fold all the beds so they can be placed on the trolleys and then get ready to leave for our next destination. John briefs us on the route to follow and we start our walk. First, I wear my fleece sweater, but soon it disappears into my backpack. Unfortunately, the sun stays behind a thick cloud cover and after some time we are confronted with some drizzle. Not really desirable, at first a rain cover around our backpack is sufficient. There is quite a bit of wind but it is not really cold with 64 degrees Fahrenheit.
Nevertheless, John decides not to have the coffee stop in the parking lot, but to have the coffee in the nearby restaurant de Biezenhof. It serves really excellent cappuccino and we have double the energy to continue. That energy is really needed because not only do we walk the longest distance today, 16.2 miles, but when we leave, the rain also comes pouring down from the sky. Now it’s really necessary to put on a poncho as well. An opportunity to try this one out too.

I join the faster walkers and can keep up with them and with the navigation of both Frans (with his mobile) and Frank (using the, now wet, paper version) we find our way north. We follow a nice path along the small Geleen stream and enjoy walking through nature. It does mean that we repeatedly have to go through narrow turnstiles which is not always easy because sometimes the backpack gets stuck in it, but eventually we arrive in the outskirts of Sittard from where we set course for the center.
It is still raining incessantly and having lunch outside is not really pleasant so John directs us to the inner city, where we walk past the market where St. Michael’s Church is located.
End of August 1938, this church was packed, as always with the annual celebration of the city’s patron, Saint Rose, and the high mass was in full swing. Suddenly a buzz made the people turn, and screams echoed as an escaped lion walked in and trudged leisurely to the altar. Everyone panicked for a safe haven. Fortunately, there were no accidents, but the photo in the church with the lion does refer to this incident.

Just outside the city walls we find a terrace in front of the library with huge umbrellas and we soon occupy the terrace chairs. It is not really cold, only wet and so we can hang out our wet ponchos and not much later we enjoy our sandwiches with a nice cup of coffee. I order hot chocolate with whipped cream. Not really good for my body but with this rain it tastes excellent. When everyone has finished their lunch and drink and survived the traffic jam in front of the toilet, we set off again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We continue our route along the small stream and after passing a beautiful Maria chapel, we cross the border to Germany. Finally, after an endless walk along a huge and luxurious holiday park, we arrive at Campground “de Hommelhof”.
A large lawn, where the two large army tents disappear (in each of them 20 people have a sleeping place) is in front of us. Washing clothes makes no sense today. The weather is too unstable and rain falls regularly. This also means that it is not possible to have dinner outside and after a nice cup of soup we enjoy, with plates on our laps, a delicious meal. Again!

This time we get potatoes with creamed spinach and eggs in mustard sauce and cucumber. The beer that Gijs tirelessly takes out of the fridge is also great. Of course, after our meal, we do the dishes together. The men are now adept at transporting the cart with plates, glasses and cutlery over the bumpy grass. Not an easy task. The others, conducted by Tekla, are devoted to washing and drying the huge mountain of utensils. In the end we manage to get everything back to the tents, clean and at one piece.
The permanent residents of the campsite are not really happy with us and grumble. We had so many dirty dishes that we emptied the entire hot water boiler. It’s a good thing we only stay one day. Although, the next morning, we do dishes again and of course, empty the warm water boiler again.
Unfortunately, we can’t enjoy an information evening with pictures from Jan. The connection cables required for this do not fit and the laptop can therefore not be connected to the projector. Unfortunately, but it is no different. We still hold this information.

Since the precipitation has stopped, the rest of the evening is spent outside and the 20 residents of tent “Santiago” can set up their camp beds, something that goes very smoothy if you have built some. Unfortunately, due to the heavy rain, the beds have become a bit damp. I myself am less bothered by this because Netta spoils me with a thin aluminum blanket that can be placed on the camp bed. This also keeps the moisture out of my sleeping bag. However, the night’s sleep remains somewhat irregular because of the cold and damp night. But I sleep enough because the next morning I wake up refreshed. Although that can also be due to the lovely hot shower.

We don’t need to rush the next morning. The first part of the program is a visit to the Basilica and treasury in Susteren. However, due to an unexpected funeral, that visit cannot take place at the scheduled time, so we have enough time to talk to each other after doing the dishes (every day this consists of an endless pile of plates, cups, glasses and cutlery). Riekje gives morning gymnastics on the large field in front of the tents. Not really an unnecessary luxury after the walks of the past few days. In the end, however, we can leave.

Unfortunately, the funeral is still in progress so we wait in the square in front of a pub. The manager doesn’t know what hit him when a horde of women storms him and asks to use the toilet.

Fortunately, this is allowed, when we pay each 50 cents, and a long traffic jam forms in the square. Eventually we can continue and the group splits up. We first visit the treasury and have a tour to the special relics and clothing. Everything is explained in a fun and enlightening way. Then the groups switch and we go to see the Basilica. Once again, we are surprised by a nice tour with a lot of clear information that is also given in an appealing way.
It is already around noon when we leave the basilica and on the church square, we are spoiled by Tjitske and Nine with coffee and homemade cookies. It tastes delicious and refreshed we leave to continue our walk. Not directly to the final destination because after a few miles, we have a stop at the St. James church.
While we wait for our “credentials” to be stamped, we take a look around this beautiful church. When everyone has their stamp, we leave immediately. It is hot but walking is doable. Walking this mini pilgrimage together is special because one moment you walk with one and another moment you come into contact with someone else from the group. Talking about the things that are important in life. A very special experience. The road eventually leads through the floodplains and also follows the dyke with a view of the river Maas. It is hardly conceivable that where meadows are now seen, last year everything was flooded around.

The surroundings are beautiful and the group meanders like a multicolored ribbon over the dyke, until we arrive at the bridge and enter Belgium. Due to a cultural event, the old church of Aldeneik is open and we quickly take a look inside before finally arriving at the “Boomgaard campsite” in Belgium. We are somewhat tired due to the heat. Day 3 with 8.1 miles of walking has ended successfully. I am pleasantly surprised when I enter our tent, Santiago. Frans has reserved a bed for me next to the entrance, my favorite spot.

After my bed is covered, I walk to the shower which is wonderfully refreshing and when my clothes have smelled the soap, they can be attached to my washing line. I have dirty clothes from 2 days walking so I hope everything dries quickly. I’m glad I have three short-sleeved shirts with me because I wouldn’t have made it with two.
Fortunately, Mirjam is also doing well. She unfortunately had to give up on the way, but arrives safely at the campsite by bus. Unlike yesterday where we had a huge lawn at our disposal, the spot here is like a postage stamp, but the two army tents and the cooking tent, as well as the round tables and chairs, have found a place. Everything is just a little closer together.

While Netta is taking care of any blistered feet we talk about the walk and we enjoy a nice cool beer, meanwhile we are treated to delicious food scents. In huge bowls Huub is busy mixing the ingredients for a spiced noodles meal, prepared by Tjitske and Nine. This evening we will be spoiled again.

In the evening we have to bring in our laundry. Tonight, rain is expected again. I don’t notice it myself because I sleep very deeply and only wake up regularly because it is cold.
When we get up on Saturday at 6.30 am, the sun is already shining in a steel blue sky. Like every morning after packing our backpacks, we fold our beds and put them in the trolleys and then have breakfast. It has been arranged that fresh bread and rolls are obtained from the bakery in the village and that tastes good.

After Netta and John discussed the route we are on the road again.There is some confusion about whether or not we have to wash dishes. Some of us understood that we didn’t have to do the dishes this morning, so a small group is already leaving, which includes me, while others are busy doing the dishes. Obviously, this is causing some friction. Yet we set off in good spirits, promising that we will do our chores tonight. Immediately after leaving the campsite, we walk over the dyke along the Maas. It is a beautiful route and it promises to be a beautiful (warm) day. We chat with the owners of the nice holiday homes along this part of the Maas and while walking, we also talk a lot with each other and have fun.

I have to laugh when Frans keeps one of the many gates neatly open for Annelies, but assumes that Frank, who, after Annelies, has to go through this gate, has to open it himself. Of course, it leads to hilarity. This part of the Meuse consists of many excavations and we regularly walk on a platform over a gravel hole and enjoy the beautiful flower wealth around us. We also have to keep insects off, but that’s what you get in this water-rich environment. Of course, we can’t help but to stop at a tree with Mirabelle’s. This delicious, plum-like fruit is now ripe and tastes delicious after walking an hour and a half.

Not much later we arrive in the beautiful white town of Thorn. The tourist did not arrive yet, it’s still very quiet and we walk around a bit. Johannes takes a seat on a terrace in front of the church and order some drink. We want to join him, but change our minds when less than a minute later Tjitske drives by with her motorhome. It takes a while to find out where she parked her RV, but a phone call from John provides clarification and we soon walk out of town again on our way to the parking space where the motorhome has found a place. Once again, we are spoiled with coffee, tea or soft drinks and home baked cookies. A lovely break from our walk. From here we stay together more as a group because we don’t walk all the way to the campsite. Somewhere, 5 miles from the next campsite, we will board a cab to campground Hermans, just outside of the city of Roermond. This afternoon we have to be on time at the St James chapel for the opening of the “Shell path”. The last part of this walk is too much for Tekla. She sprained her ankle and cannot continue after more than 6.5 miles, so we walk the last part without her.

Campground Hermans is a surprise. It is located on the shore of a lake and the tents are set up next to the waterline. What a beautiful place. Marianne thinks so too. She arrived together with Tekla by car and is now sitting on a camp bed, enjoying the view of the boats in the lake. Slowly all the walkers trickle in, dropped off by the cab with its friendly Afghan driver. When everyone has a bed and the backpack has been put down, we walk to the center of Roermond at 3.30 pm.

Guards, dressed in colorful uniform, are waiting at the St James Chapel. They will accompany us to the Cathedral. A stop with a minute of silence is made at the house of the late brother Chiel. He died the day before yesterday and was an important member of the order of St. James. After a salute of honour, we continue walking through the center.
Our beautiful St Jacques shells dangle from our green daypacks. The organization really did its best on this. I am really happy with this beautifully described shell, we received from Netta in Maastricht, on behalf of the Rotterdam region of the Dutch Society of St. James. While we wait next to the entrance door to the Cathedral, the carillonneur suddenly starts to play the church bells and we are overwhelmed by the impressive and all-pervasive bell ringing. I myself cannot prevent my tears from streaming down my cheeks. It’s an emotional moment.

After the chime has lasted at least 10 minutes, the Dean of Roermond appears who, after a speech by one of the men of the brotherhood of Saint James, consecrates the newly bricked St. Jacques shell. We, the bystanders are blessed too. The dean says that not only objects but also people should be blessed. Something I totally agree with. After this solemn moment, we all walk together to the Paradies complex, a meeting place in the city center, where we have a nice chat and a drink. Around 6.30 pm we walk back to the campsite at the “Maasplas” where, again, we are spoiled with a delicious meal. This time pasta and a well filled sauce with lots of vegetables. We love it. When we have washed everything, after all those days that runs like a well-oiled machine, we enjoy the evening warmth and drink coffee. Of course, with a homemade delicacy. The beautiful Camino cookies baked by Tjitske look beautiful and taste good too. Of course, like every evening, we are treated to music by Jobea. This time, under the inspiring leadership of Nellie, we also sing a few songs in which we thank our excellent organizers of this fantastic event. We continue to chat with each other until very late in the evening. It stays nice and warm and at night, for the first time during this trip, I don’t feel cold. Today we walked all together almost 13 miles.

Sunday July 24^th we all wake up in time and about 7 am all the beds are folded and the backpacks are packed. We all have breakfast with the leftovers, but there is still so much left that everyone has enough to eat. Then we wash dishes for the last time and help folding the tables and pile up the chairs and carry kitchen stuff next to the vans. Then we leave for the Cathedral. We can store our backpacks at the Paradies complex.

That gives me the opportunity to enter the hotel, practically next door, where my sister Hannah and her husband Henk are staying. What a surprise that they came to Roermond. Dick is also on his way to this city and I will see him soon. After chatting for almost an hour, Hannah and Henk continue their breakfast and I leisurely walk to the Cathedral. It is still quiet and I quickly discover the places reserved for us in the front of the church. I take a seat and enjoy the singing of the Roermond Men’s Choir. Slowly the other walkers trickle in and high mass can start at 11.30 am. It is very special. Also, because not only the name day of St. James is celebrated, but also that of St. Christopher, the patron Saint of this city and also the protector of travelers. There is no better combination. The service is impressive and after the pilgrims have received a blessing, the church door, only open in the holy year, is opened and we can go outside.

I am not one of the first, because in the meantime I discovered Dick in the back of the cathedral. Naturally I want to hug him first. I’m so glad to see him again. And of course, Hannah and I admire the largest relic of “St. James the Greater” outside of Spain.
The relic is tucked into a forearm with an axe, symbol of a martyr. Not really strange when you consider that this apostle of Jesus was the first to be martyred. This in contrast to his brother John, another apostle of Jesus, who lived the longest and was allowed to grow old. When we are finally outside everyone gathers around the Dean and a nice group photo is taken in the presence of the members of the brotherhood of St. James the Great.

Not only is an official photo taken. At the same time, the cell phones of the many visitors to the church are also used to make pictures. Afterwards, we take a leisurely stroll through the sun-drenched streets of the city center of Roermond. It is now 79 degrees Fahrenheit.

 

While Dick, Hannah and Henk have lunch on the terrace on the square, I walk to the Paradies where we all the pilgrims have lunch together and then we say goodbye to each other. It feels like I’ve known my fellow pilgrims all my life. This is how we have grown together over the past few days. I will miss everyone. On the way home, Dick and I decide to go to café St. Jacques in the market hall in Rotterdam next Thursday. We hope to see many other participants. Since Dick likes to come along, he immediately becomes also a member of the Dutch Society of St. Jacob when he returns home.

After we have thrown off my backpack at home, we drive to Tekla and Bert. There we hand over Tekla’s luggage and have a nice chat about the past few days in their garden with a cooling drink. When we arrive at home, I tell Dick everything about the wonderful pilgrimage that has now, unfortunately, come to an end. Although, it is also wonderful to be home again and to sleep in a soft and warm bed.