Catching up With Heather on the Camino

It’s been a few days since I’ve been able to get to the computer – been down at my Dad’s after dropping the kids off at Stanstead airport with their mum, for their holiday in Germany, with our old friends Roland and Renzi. Heather’s adventures have continued apace! I’m going to have to pack a couple of emails into one bumper post today; something for you to get your teeth into.  We’ve even got the very select set of photos that DON’T make Heather look like a granny. I’ll let Heather pick up the story: I´ve got pics downloaded onto a memory stick.  Good stuff!   I´m not going to even try and download Picasa on a coin-in-the-slot pc and I´m not on Facebook but I promise I´ll do it when I get home.  Now you know...

Fromista- Queues on the Camino

As Heather continues her long awaited long distance walk, the Camino de Santiago, she has hit the first queue of the trip; just shy of the half way mark.  Tomorrow takes her across that psychological milestone.  Will she savour the moment or leave it in the dust as she tires of her unsatisfying 30km days? Fromista. Well, well;  seems a long time ago I was writing about the Meseta.  I´m still VERY curious as to the connection between Acacio and Orietta who run the refugio I stayed in, in Viloria + Paulo Coelho, the writer.  I´ve looked it up and there´s obviously a connection but I don´t know quite what. Anyway, still on a literary theme, I wonder how many of you have read that wonderful little children´s book but for grown-ups as well, The Little Prince.  I am...

The Meseta – Walking the Demonic Section of the Camino

From what Heather has written earlier, there’s obviously a whole folklore of agorophobic terror  surrounding the walking through the Meseta.  But according to today’s update from her, it sounds like going home to Essex in high summer – with a few less trees! Now you couldn’t give that beautiful french lass my phone number could you Heather 😉 So, amigos, amigas, I read a lot about The Meseta (the plains).  How there was nothing, no trees, no shade, nothing.  I listened to those two at the refuge at Viloria who said that people came in angry to the refuges, problems, demons doing a bolero in their heads with no other distractions. Jackie and Mike (thank you, both) said that there was nothing to worry about. I walked through Rabe and onto the...