People are Great

Posted on September 26, 2013 by hillaryarless

After finally making it to the somewhat-halfway-ish point, I can say proudly that we’ve made it this far! Whether we’ve cabbed ahead, stayed behind, skipped a few days, miles or hours of sleep — we’re feeling half exhausted and half excited. We’ve officially cancelled all reservations except our stay in Santiago. So I guess this is the part where we pack up and head home or we power through. I’d like to refer to this point as the “hump day” of the Camino.

This is where everyone reading this needs to go find the Geico commercial on Youtube called, “Happy as a Camel on Wednesday” and thank me later.

You all know what I’m referring to. Every week when Wednesday rolls around the mentality is, “If I can just make it through today, it’s basically the weekend.” Well, that is how I’m feeling about this trip right now. We’ve reached hump day and if we make it through, we’re golden. mikemikemikemikemikemikemike.

The other night my mom and I were laying in bed, tucked away in our tiny twin cocoons, and I mentioned to her that this part of the trip reminded me a bit of my freshman year of college. I figured I’d already paid my dues in sleeping in twin beds, eating bad cafeteria food and feeling homesick but that isn’t quite what I was referring to. I’m referring to the “hump day” of college. I remember spending the first couple months of the semester trying to adjust and having a really hard time. I’d never lived away from home, I didn’t know a single person at my new school, my roommate was colder than the other side of the pillow… throw a long distance relationship in the mix and you have a very unhappy Freshman girl in college. I understand Freshman year of college is known for being a difficult adjustment. I’m not sharing this story to stand out or ask for sympathy, I think everyone can relate to this feeling of being alone or out of their comfort zone at some point in life. What really strikes me about feeling this way is if I had decided to pack my bags and ditch my roommate, I would have missed out on one of the best experiences of my life thus far — college.

I remember the first day of Freshman orientation, I was still in that “I can’t EAT ALONE” phase of my life. I can thank myself now for being so insecure and uncomfortable at the time because that is exactly how I met my very best friend, Shelby. I walked up to her table in the cafeteria with my food tray, my lanyard and forced out the words, “Is anyone sitting here?” and our conversation hasn’t died down since. She is basically the reason why I didn’t give up and go home during those first couple weeks of school… and then it hit me laying in bed, it’s the people you meet that get you through these tough times. It’s the person who walks into your life at the exact right time, sits down at your table and asks you the exact right question.

That’s what this experience is all about, the pilgrims, Los Peregrinos. We’ve met so many unbelievably wonderful people on this trip, it’s almost overwhelming. The second we start thinking to ourselves, “forget it, lets pack up and catch a flight home TOMORROW. This is NOT worth it.” we meet another amazing group of people and they somehow encourage us at the exact right time, sometimes without even knowing it. I guess we have them to thank for deciding not give up by now. That is what we are trying to focus on instead of our problemos, our Peregrino friends.

We basically made it through the entire first day with the help of other pilgrims along the trail. Whether it was pointing us in the right direction, spouting words of encouragement or sticking together during the hailstorm, everyone kind of muscled through it all with the help of someone else. Right as we had reached the very top of the mountain and we were looking over the clouds, we ran into a group of loud Spanish women who offered to take our picture. They didn’t speak any English but they were so friendly. When we were saying our thank yous and goodbyes, they offered us some of their almonds. I didn’t realize it then but I am almost certain if we hadn’t been offered those almonds, I wouldn’t be here to tell this story. WE DIDN’T BRING ANY FOOD. Are you kidding me? An 11 hour hike, WTF is wrong with us?

The second spout of encouragement was after our hail situation, meeting the two Englishmen at the Pilgrim dinner. We had just finished our first hike on the Camino and we finally made it to Roncesvaille completely soaked, overwhelmed, waddling around, I had a newly developed blister and we were both feeling pretty discouraged. We were wondering if we would be able to complete the rest of the walk, let alone the next day. These two men were our saving grace that night. We were so consumed with everything that had just happened, we didn’t even realize what we had just accomplished. They pointed out to us and reminded us that we should take a moment and just be proud that we made it through the first day. My mom and I still talk about these two, wishing they would somehow reappear somewhere along the way.

We met a woman, Karín who woke from a nap on the side of the trail just as we walked passed. She was incredibly calm, and fast paced at the same time. She just kind of awoke from her nap, carefully pieced herself together, joined us on the trail and rather quickly passed us up. We found out later after talking to her, she has a couple children at home and a son who had died seven years ago. She had been backpacking for a couple months before our starting point which totally wowed us. I am convinced that she is some sort of robot/animal/super hero. It seemed as if she could endure anything and still power through it with all of her belongings hanging on her back.

We’ve been constantly running into these two Austrailian women. What caught my attention the first time we saw them was that one of the women was wearing a full length skirt with TWO backpacks on. She had one large backpack strapped to her back and another small one hanging from her chest. We ran into them the first day a couple of times, passing each other up. We didn’t conversate much except a few huffs and puffs and some gestures of “What the EFF did we get ourselves into? This blows.” It wasn’t until we made it to Pamplona where we decided to take our first real “rest” day and we spotted them “resting” too. It was really sweet running into them because we all recognized one other in a city full of strangers. It was a feeling of familiarity and it was comforting. I came across them again when I walked a portion alone and we ended up talking a bit more. I learned more about their life and I told them a little more about mine. I’m not sure what it was about these two women but I was drawn to them. One was wearing two backpacks and a full-lengthed skirt and the other was in a black shirt and jean pants, it was almost as if they wanted to torture themselves. I have no clue why they were actually wearing these things but it intrigued me.

The next person that stands out to me is Benito, the german man. I was alone when I found myself talking to him and he was just the most sweet company. I mentioned him earlier. His name wasn’t actually Benito but when he told me his German name, I must have looked like a gerbil trying to understand an algebraic formula because he quickly told me, “you can just call me Benito.” He seemed to have walked up at the exact right moment, it was one of the only times during this entire trip when I felt truly alone. I’ve been alone here and there but at this moment I was completely alone. There wasn’t anyone in sight. It even sounded like I was alone, just silence.

Then there was Barbara and Mark from California. We were walking out of Puente de la Reina and we spotted a man and woman in shorts after we had just complained for a solid four minutes about how cold we were. We just decided that our next purchase needed to be two pairs of gloves and these two were in shorts. We ended up crossing paths and walking together for a while that day. My mom and I both found them to be so sweet and encouraging towards each other and us as well. When we made it to Burgos, we were wondering when or if we would see them again. We were walking up to the Cathedral and out pops Mark and Barbara! My mom and I agree that running into people that have made an impression on us when we are least expecting it is such a great feeling.

Lastly, the Loveless couple from Alabama. That was their last name, Loveless. We ran into the couple when my mom and I were trying to get into an exhibition on the Camino and its history in an old church building. The man operating it didn’t speak English and apparently it was closed and open at the same time. We decided we would go get some food and come back. We were not surprised when we couldn’t find anything to eat because we seem to be constantly on the wrong eating schedule here. When we are hungry, the bars are closed and they only serve food after 9pm or before 4:30pm and in between 1pm and 3pm. Makes sense, right? So we decided to drink away our appetite problems. We found a seat outside a restaurant and had a couple beers. The couple walked up and we asked them if they wanted to sit down and join us and they did. They reminded us of home, they were so warm and welcoming. We then find out they weren’t even on the Camino! They were just passing through this village in Spain on their annual trip by car.

Moral of the story, people are great. Here are pictures..

We got to see a huge tractor take out an entire field of dead sunflowers the other day… really cool. So we’ve officially seen a fully bloomed field, a dying field, a dead field and a field being harvested. That was our “circle of life” moment. The tractor took up the whole road and was coming right for us. It made a sharp right and then started really loudly chewing up and spitting out sunflowers parts everywhere.

Mom at dinner..

Sheep in the street, nbd..

This was our view one night when we stopped for a couple beers….

My mom asked me one night, “Why are people calling us animals at the end of the day?” My response was, “Um, you’re crazy.” It turns out people are actually saying, “Animo!” Which is a term of encouragement in Spanish. Kind of like, “We’ve got this!”

HOLY guac. alright, I made up for the days of bad wifi and being too tired to post. I’m taking way too many pictures at this point to keep up with doing them in order so it’s a scramble from here on out. Enjoy!

Holy Fudge!

Posted on September 18, 2013 by hillaryarless

Holy fudge. Just got done with a 16 mile walk that seemed 10,000 miles longer than a puny 16. After doing the same “we finally made it to our destination” dance, only to find out that we were 2 miles away, we finally made it to our destination! Now that we are here, our window seems to open up into a bus station that seems to additionally host a semi truck unloading area. To convey the extent of our exhaustion correctly, I feel as though the exhaust sounds coming from these trucks are inside the walls of my brain but I am so incredibly thankful to be right here, right now, on this bed and not up on my feet.

For all you “Ariane Follwers” out there.. she is doing fabulous. She walked those 16 miles today, right by my side and had a smile on her face for 98% of it. The last 2% were spent wandering aimlessly due to another Peregrino’s bad sense of direction. Needless to say, we both wanted to give everyone the finger.

We have recently met a new friend who has tacked on to our traveling duo, making us a trio. The second we met, my mom and I both knew she was a great addition. We’re surely staying friends far beyond the trails of the Camino. Her name is ibufén gel and she works miracles on the soles of our feet, essentially soothing our souls in general. We’ve already made plans to smuggle more of her into to the states to improve our quality of life back at home.

Okay now for some pictures. I am starting to lose track of when and where each picture is from. All of the villages are starting to look the same and the trail is beginning to blend together. This was our view looking up from our walk home from dinner in Santo Domingo de la Calzada..

A gorgeous statue outside of where we stayed..

We woke up late this morning, I had a horrible time sleeping last night. So coffee was necessary..

Since we started pretty late today, we ended later than usual. We ran across BLOOMING sunflower fields though so it sort of made up for our late arrival. Holy yellow!! The buds of these ladies are bigger than my face.

and more.. even when they’re dead, I still think they are beautiful.

We took a pit stop in Grañón for some tea and a breather. My mom is so backpacker-chic with her messy French braid sipping her té con leche 😉

So here is my girly moment.. Embracing my messy hair has been an understatement on this trip. If you know me, you know my hair is nuts. I decided to cut all my dead hair off right before we left and I’ve made a vow to not touch it (Not that I have a choice, curling irons and hairspray are frowned upon in backpacking situations) in hopes to have my strong healthy hair again. I’m not going to lie though, I’m secretly loving it…

Bare faced and barefoot, right up my alley.

Some blooms for your viewing pleasure. I took SO many pictures of all the flowers today but I only feel like posting one, I’m that tired.

A really tiny beautiful church right outside of Santo Domingo de la Calzada..

Holy hay! …

I’ve been really enjoying all of the architecture everywhere, especially on all the doors in the villages. I love it because it shows the history. The buildings have such strength to have stood this long and now after all this time they look so withered. I’ve been feeling really inspired being surrounded by it all.

Well, we have a million more pictures and they’re all gorgeous. I’m pretty exhausted and I just want to share these with you for now. Maybe I’ll post all of the pictures that didn’t make the first cut sometime when we have a day planned to rest.

Picture Update

Posted on September 16, 2013 by hillaryarless

The past few days have included a lot of walking, different villages, meeting new friends, and an actual running of the bulls celebration. We didn’t end up staying for the part where the bulls actually run because we couldn’t find anywhere to stand. The place was jam packed without the bulls in the equation and we didn’t want to find out what the streets would have been like with bulls running around and big strong Spanish men darting away from them. We did get to see the pre-celebration which included men running around in oversized heads chasing children down. Sounds really scary but it was actually adorable to see the kids so excited and fun to see people really enjoying their old traditions.

When my mom had the minor problem with her hip we both started feeling a little home sick. Her hip feels better so she’s been walking with me and after a couple of days out in the fresh air, we are feeling like ourselves again. Here is a jumble of pictures from the past couple of days..

Leaving Puente La Reina…

Looking back at Puente La Reina…

Leaving Viana…

Pretty graffiti…

Tires on some hay.. ?

I love the way the balconies are all decorated here. They definitely have a love for live plants in Spain.

I just thought this sign was funny. Very simple, cold drinks. Here look, we even have some samples we’ve tied to this string.

When we got to Logroño there was a huge street fair in the center square. I think it was the largest crowd of people I’ve ever seen in one space. All for fruits, vegetables and some flowers. Check out these fresh peppers..

The moon and the church bells on a Sunday night in Calle de Mercado in Logroño..

I washed my shorts last night and they didn’t dry in time for us to leave in the morning so I had to safety pin my pants to my backpack so they’d dry. I’m laughing as I type this. I realize how not normal this is in comparison to everyday life, not backpacking. I’ve never appreciated a dryer more than on this trip. This is also funny because the way they are hanging, they almost align with my legs and it looks like I’m wearing the shorts like a paper doll.

Now back to the gorgeous scenery.. This was walking to Navarette.

THIS was the coolest thing I’ve come across so far — a fence covered in crosses that pilgrims have put up. I thought this was so amazing. It gives you a sliver of an idea of how many people have actually walked these steps. The fence literally went on for miles.

So of course, we put crosses up. This was mine..

and this was my mom’s..

Some were very simple..

Some had a little spice to them..

The cool thing was seeing what people came up with to leave a cross on the fence. We saw athletic tape, paper, and even a pair of socks!

It makes you wonder what people were thinking of when they placed the cross up, what was on their mind. Were they remembering someone, thinking of their faith or just simply placing something to share with future travelers.

Either way, it really touched me.

We’ve made it in for the night and we really love the place we’re staying. We’re finally staying somewhere I chose and I am quite proud of myself for this one! For those of you that have never seen a Hostel, this is a really nice one! They are NOT all like this!

Okay, thanks for checkin’ up!! Talk to you all soon.

TGIF…?

Posted on September 13, 2013 by hillaryarless

I’m feeling pretty drained.

We hiked another 15-ish mile day and by the last two miles, we were exhausted. At this point, my feet were killing me and my mom was moving at tortoise speed. We went through three villages about three miles apart from each other thinking each one was the stopping point aaaand nope. By the second village we were sure we had made it! Annnnd nope. We can all relate to working towards something, thinking the work is over and then realizing you have loads more to do. It is really discouraging. Finally by the third village we approached our stopping point. We were both relieved and excited to rest, feeling accomplished for finishing this walk that felt like forever.

My mom then picks up her bag and manages to strain or pull some kind of something in her left hip (the replaced one). She didn’t tell me at first (like usual, she doesn’t like to freak me out) but after she told me, I of course freaked out.

Both of our minds went straight to worst case scenario and we were ready to jump on a train to Italy and start in on a spaghetti binge.

Before I get any further into the story, my mom’s hip is doing a lot better. It was definitely scary and we are taking it seriously but I don’t want anyone reading this to freak out like I did. She picked up a bag that was too heavy after a long day’s walk and shouldn’t have. We are both really surprised that it feels better but we’re not taking it lightly. We both took a break today. After a long day/night of discussing what to do next, she is taking a break from any hikes as of now and she’s not allowed to pick up any heavy bags under strict orders given by me.

For now I”ll walk the hikes with the rest of the Pilgrims and we’ll meet at places that we decide.

I feel like this is yet another reminder of how intense this thing really is. We are realizing that what we’ve volunteered ourselves for is not just physically intense, it’s emotionally intense too. We have also realized that this entire trip revolves around our body’s physical condition and if one of us gets seriously hurt, the entire thing is essentially over.

It is one thing to do a 25 km hike on a nice afternoon but repeating this day in and day out is another. Every day is a completely different hike with a completely different destination. It’s a lesson on what your body is capable of and also just having faith. Hoping that the trail won’t be too hard, that your body won’t give out on you and that the bed you’re walking to will have clean sheets. I’ve never done anything like this before so it’s a new concept for me and I’m not going to lie, we are both having a hard time adjusting.

Like I said in another post, I am 23 years old and my body is built to endure situations like these. I am being pushed physically but I’m enjoying that physical fatigue that I feel at the end of the day. I like pushing my limits and being sore, it shows me I’m working hard and that’s good for me. These hikes aren’t too intense for me, they’re tough but they’re making me stronger and I am grateful for that. But I’m not doing this alone, I’m here with my mom and she’s not 23. Pushing your body at 23 is not the same as pushing your body at 63.

So we’ve changed our plans once again! We went through both our bags last night (well I went through them while I made my mom sit in a chair and boss me around) and we sent a huge bag of stuff that we decided we don’t “need” all the way to Burgos. Neither of us will be carrying it at any point until we get there. We can switch some of our things out there and then send it along even further.

Our bags are much lighter now and we have changed our plans so many times that we are pretty much going by our own book. We’re realizing the hard way that there is no right or wrong way to do this pilgrimage, our goal is just to make it the 600 miles and be healthy and feel proud of ourselves.

I can’t help but think of my dad in these tough situations. His disease was unthinkably vigorous and grueling… physically. Can you imagine what that would do to you emotionally? Anxiety doesn’t even cut it. All the things that my dad battled through day in and day out could drive someone to insanity. Knowing your body is failing and still fighting on and being a father, a husband and a strong man leading your family along the difficulties of every day life. It’s astonishing to me what a fighter he was. Down to the very single last breath, he fought. I don’t consider it loosing against his disease even though he is gone now because of it. I’ve never seen anyone fight like he did. Anyone who fights that hard is capable of so much more than just simply winning or losing. I guess that’s what Heaven is… Where you go when you’ve fought too hard to “lose.”

So, I’m sure you’re getting more than you bargained for when you decided to follow along with us.. But hey! I decided I’d blog my way through the camino and that includes all this stuff too. This is no walk in the park.

Alto de Perdon Alone

Posted on September 11, 2013 by hillaryarless

This morning my mom and I woke up in Pamplona with our bags reorganized, our hair washed and we were ready to go! We left before the sun came up again because today’s hike was a longer one with a fairly steep mountain in the middle. Before the day started we had tossed around the idea of my mom skipping this day because of the steepness of the mountain, both uphill and downhill. We got our back packs on, headed out the door, made it to the edge of Pamplona, took one quick look at the mountain ahead and agreed to have her find a cab and meet me in Puente La Reina. We split ways and she got here early enough to get a nice 10 mile walk in around the village.

I ended up getting 23 km done in 5 and 1/2 hours (around 14 miles) and it was beautiful.

Doesn’t this look like a scene straight from “The Wizard of Oz”? The first hour of the trek was COVERED in spent sunflower fields. I can’t even imagine what this sight would have been two weeks ago when they were fully blooming. A part of me was a tiny glad that they weren’t at their potential today because I would have been sad that my mom missed all of their beauty.

I managed to find two in full bloom. One for me and one for my mom.

The hike up and down the mountain side was really nice to do alone. It went by fast and for the first portion I listened to my headphones. My music definitely got me going at first, through some villages and side streets but as soon as we hit the sunflower fields, those suckers came off. I find something really calming in listening to music but I don’t know, it just felt wrong to be filling my ears with sound when all of my other senses were being fulfilled.. it was like I couldn’t really take in everything I was seeing when I had a soundtrack going on in my head. I enjoyed the sound of my feet crunching against the rock more than any of my favorite artists. That is saying a lot because music is my life. It was just so peaceful and quiet out.

Once I got to the top where all of the wind turbines were, the wind was enough of a soundtrack. Everything was whistling louder than I’ve ever heard, it was pretty amazing.

At the top of Alto de Perdon there was a monument to the Pilgrims. You can see the wind doing its thing and you can also see a sliver of the view which was looking back on the city of Pamplona.

The rest of the hike was fairly easy and if you were hungry, unprepared or just over trusting, need not worry! Plentyyy of wild berries!!

One woman picked some blackberries and offered me one. I’m surprised I didn’t slap her hand away. Haha, just kidding.. but I did politely decline and she was very sweet for offering. The last thing I need is a poisonous berry situation.

I ended up meeting a nice young man from Germany who only had ten days to do part of of the walk. He was great company, especially during the end when my feet began to hurt, he was cracking jokes and I actually thought they were pretty funny.

I also met an older gentleman who had a heart attack after climbing the route that we had trouble with a couple of days back. He spent the last two days in a Hospital in Pamplona and I almost dropped to the ground when he said that. I was so concerned about him and all he said was, “We’re all gonna go some time, why not go out doing something courageous.” I guess he is half right, we are all gonna go sometime but meeting him scared the bajeesus out of me. It made me thankful my mom and I are being careful about pushing our limits. Don’t worry everyone, we are doing just fine! We’re tending to our blistered feet and giggling over a batch of fresh grapes. Resting up for tomorrow.

Pamplona

Posted on September 10, 2013 by hillaryarless

We made it to Pamplona! No crazy stories about our walk this time, we walked a safe and calm walk. This is more of an update through pictures rather than stories. Short but sweet. Our walk was mostly through tiny villages built on ruins but a little portion of the trail was more scenic. It was all very beautiful and much more flat than the other day. The weather made the day a lot more enjoyable.

There was a nice little rest stop for all the “pilgrims.” So we stopped and got tea and an omelette.

We ended up staying in one of the places that was in the movie “The Way.” (If you haven’t seen it, you should watch it tonight! It’s an amazing movie about the Camino.) It’s where Martin Sheen meets the Canadian woman and where he looks out and sees the man pull the table cloth off the table and uses it as a bullfighter’s cape. It was the most magnificent little place right along the Camino. The owner was so sweet and they made us breakfast, dinner and gave us amazing wine. If I ever do this again, which I definitely plan to, I will stay there. It was called “Hotel Akerreta” in case anyone is planning to walk and is reading this.

Pamplona has been really amazing so far. The people are sweet and welcoming and there are a lot of others here walking the Camino. We already ran into two groups of friends that we’ve met along the way. It’s always nice seeing a familiar face when you are so far from home. We’re staying here in Pamplona for an extra night for my dad’s birthday which was yesterday. The running of the bulls is traditionally held here so we figured it was appropriate.

Our wifi is horrible but I almost wish that it didn’t work at all yesterday. I ended up getting really offended and upset at Facebook last night for prompting me to “buy him a Target gift card” and for also plastering his age to the entire Facebook universe. The only time I ever remember actually upsetting my dad was when I called him an “old man.” He’d always try and sneak a year away from his age when his birthday came around. I remember once saying, “didn’t you turn 58 last year?” I’m certain me catching on aggravated him and I am also certain he was aggravated yesterday and would have wanted one of us to somehow make it disappear.

I wish so badly I had him in my ear asking me to fix something on his Facebook, post some picture, help him write out an argument on someone’s page that would offend everyone who had previously commented. I just miss him in general.. and I’m hating stupid Facebook. So annoying.

It’s been really nice to change up the scenery from bushes and cliffs to cafés and restrooms. We’re enjoying walking this city portion so far even though we feel a little out of place with our huge back packs on.

We loved this mural!!

Where we had tea this morning. Apparently we drink a lot of tea..? I think it’s because I’m trying to not drink as much coffee on this trip. I need my heart in tip top shape in order to dodge lightning bolts on a regular basis.

I think it is hilarious that the rooftops here pass any kind of safety codes. All of their satellites seriously look like they are being held together by a thread and a bungee cord and whoever was putting it up was in a serious rush. My mom and I are finding that there are no real “rules” here. We’ve decided that we are fine with that and we’ll act accordingly until someone informs us that we’re misbehaving.

Holy Pyrenees!!

Posted on September 8, 2013 by hillaryarless

I seriously do not know where to begin in telling you all about my experience in the Pyrenees. I feel like a badass after surviving the day we had. To help explain the seriousness of this post, there were a handful of moments that I was legitimately scared for my life and my mom’s. I was planning, in my mind, the possibility of life flighting us out or how to some how catapult my mom over the mountain and into a bed safely.

We had two options of routes. There was an easier route that went around the mountain and there was a harder route that goes up and over the top. Ever since my mom became aware of this fact, she was planning on walking the one that went around the mountain, the easier one. I, however, tried to convince her the entire time that she could totally do it! Just to make sure everyone knows, I was not the one who finally convinced her into it. The night before we started, we were talking to a man who was giving us our passport and he automatically assumed that we were doing the harder one, Napoleon’s route. This gave my mom the confidence. I know anyone who knew the story before hand, will think that I pressured my mom into the harder hike and try to blame me for the outcome but that isn’t the case, I swear.

We started the trek normally-ish. We got up at the crack of dawn and left before the sun came out and for the first hour or so, there was no sunlight. We were walking in complete darkness, I couldn’t even read the map.

By the time it started to lighten up, we were sure we had missed the first source of water, that literally looked like a fountain, but we hadn’t. We ended up not getting lost once! I’m very proud of this fact because even though they say the Camino is marked really well, sometimes it’s just plain contradictory. I kid you not, one sign had two arrows for our route and they pointed opposite directions.

The first part of the hike, which was the uphill climb, was hard! We were both out of breath. My mom was definitely having a harder time than I but she kept up, sort of. The elevation mixed with the incline mixed with a 25 pound back pack on my back mixed with a tired mom straggling behind me…. I was already thinking maybe we should have started with the easier route. As the trek got longer and steeper, we started to lose enthusiasm. But the road from Saint Jean to Roncsevalles is unbelievably stunningly breathtakingly gorgeous. The entire route was covered with rolling hills of horses, cattle and sheep grazing calmly and just watching us walk on by.

It was extremely foggy when we got near the top which made everything even more beautiful.

It started to sprinkle at one point but nothing we couldn’t handle. Once we were on the top, we were quite literally above the clouds. It was postcard worthy.

They had a little van parked in the middle of no where (super sketch if stumbled across in the states) that sold hard boiled eggs, bananas and tea. I thought it was the cutest thing ever.

We really enjoyed ourselves for a couple of hours when we leveled out on the trail. It seemed like we were almost alone for a while which was nice just walking in silence.

Then it got serious.. And by serious I mean deadly. We approach a crossroad (The sign that pointed two different directions simultaneously) and the map in my hand said DON’T go this way, the sign on the road said go both ways and panic sort of set in. We were standing with a group of people and we tried to convince everyone that maybe we should go by the map that has a picture of that specific crossroad telling us with a huge X not to go left but nobody listened. So we start down the map’s choice of path alone and it begins to rain. About 20 steps down a vision of my mom slipping and me having to leave her to get help ran through my mind so we walked back to go with the group of people. About 20 steps into this decision, the rain really starts in on us.. And by really I mean pouring rainstorm, lightning storm, thunderstorm, HAILSTORM. Hail starts shooting us in the face and covering the ground under our feet. Getting smacked in the face with hail after hiking for eight hours is not nice of Mother Nature.

Because we were up so high in elevation, the thunder was so close it sounded like it was IN my eardrum. Hands down the loudest and closest thunder I’ve ever experienced. Mind you, I love thunder storms. Growing up in the mountains, thunderstorms were like movie night in our house. We would all watch from the living room window snuggled next to the fire. Never have I been literally caught in a hailstorm on a mountain range that I’m completely unfamiliar with.

We are in ponchos and still sopping wet. The trail then begins the downhill climb, or should I say slide. Our shoes are completely soaked, people are falling, lightening is flashing so close to my face I think it singed off an eyelash, the water is getting so heavy and the incline is so steep that were basically walking down a flowing waterfall… With all of our belongings on our backs… So dangerous.

Mind you, my mom was exhausted 10 miles ago. Now she’s soaking wet and slipping down a rock slide in The French Pyrenees. She’s literally holding on to her walking sticks for dear life and hoping that the grip stays through the mud. My mom is no wuss, but she was constantly taking breaks during the beginning of the trek. There were no breaks during this part. If she took a break, I seriously think we wouldn’t have made it out.

In a normal hike, rain can be kind of nice, slippery but nice. Cooling you off, almost like a refreshing mist. But not hail beating down on me and thunder cracking so loud that each time it sounds like a tree has been struck and it is coming down on me.

Now a tiring three hours later, and a total of 11 hours hiking all together, we have finally reached a hostel and we are safe and sound in our tiny twin beds. We met two of the sweetest Englishmen at dinner who heard our story and tipped their hats to us. They were two young in-shape big guys, one an ex soldier, and they took the easier route route that day. We felt pretty impressive.

Maybe for avid backpackers this story seems regular and hailstorms, rock slides and walking on waterfalls all sound like no big deal. That makes me think two things..

1. I have SERIOUS respect for backpackers and campers because it is no easy task. I’m not talking about people who camp out in RV’s or enjoy a nice long hard hike. I’m talking about the people who sleep in tents in the deep mountains and fend for themselves in hailstorms. You can’t control Mother Nature and she is one powerful merciless b—-.

2. It honestly made my mom and I want to quit. Before the hike got crazy we started to lose our focus and then the last hour of the trek ended up turning into a three hour long fight to stay on our feet. It just didn’t seem worth it. Doing this day in and day out is seriously hard physically and mentally. I already have a couple blisters that I had to cover with some piece of fabric in my mom’s backpack and my lower back feels like its bruised from my wearing my backpack for 11 hours straight. What is 40 days straight of this going to do to my body?

The silver lining in this is my mom. The old mom I knew as a child came out in the end of our experience. For so long, my mom has been focusing all of her strength towards my dad’s fight, she hasn’t had a moment in the past six years to fight for herself. I remember as a child, it felt like with her in my corner, I could take on anyone. She’s such a strong and independent person, but she wasn’t able able to exercise these traits while my dad was sick. She’s been fighting his disease right along side him and putting all of her efforts into nurturing him back to health. This is a different kind of strength, being strong for someone else and it is commendable. Today was almost like seeing her stand on her own two feet again (with the help of walking sticks). Watching all the strength inside her come out was really inspiring. She complained a bit in the beginning, when it was hard work climbing the mountain but when it got serious, she didn’t complain once. She didn’t stop even though her legs were shaking and she felt weak. I was really proud.

I’m 23 years old and in good shape, my body is meant to endure these kinds of situations and I was barely making it down that mountain. If I can survive a day like today when I’m 63, that is something I’ll very be proud of.

Moral of the story, these past couple days have been some of the most intense days of my life. The weirdest part is that I anticipated that being the case, and it still surprised me. We are taking a day off tomorrow for the sake of our legs and for the health of my back. The wifi or “wee fee” is horrible everywhere so I’m trying my best to write and upload in the small amount of time that our wifi actually works.

Bienvenue a Paris

Posted on September 5, 2013 by hillaryarless

Four months to the day that my dad has been gone and it feels like a lifetime.

We made it to Paris last night and we leave tomorrow morning.. which would be tomorrow night in California… I think. I’m confused what day it is and isn’t in California and here. Our flights were long but we managed to get some rest. We were the very first people to arrive for our flight leaving San Diego which was pretty hilarious. We made friends with the bartenders. They were really excited when we told them our plans and it made us even more excited about them, if that was even possible. We felt like kids on our first day of school. This picture is kind of dark but it is officially our first picture of the trip!

The bartenders gave us celebratory glasses of champagne which was really sweet.

Teaching my mom how to use the camera.. as you can see, the champagne didn’t last long.

Twelve or so hours later– a friendly welcome to Paris from our luggage cart..

How does she look this cute after twelve hours of flying?

This was the view from our window when we got to our hotel. I mean, yeah– we are a little starstruck. Needless to say, we ate dinner from our balcony last night.

I’ve been lucky enough to travel around Europe twice this year and the more time I spend here, the more I want to return. I feel like I can’t get enough of it. Everything is just SO different than the states. The people have a certain confidence that no American has. The architecture is so old and beautiful, everything down to the street lights has character. What I think I love most about Europeans is their style. They wear the cookiest outfits, mismatching and mixing patterns but I love that kind of stuff. I love when things clash, it gives it an edge.

My mom and I are definitely suffering from jet lag. We slept on the first plane, got unbelievably tired at around 3 PM yesterday, stayed tired until 9 PM when we arrived at our hotel, didn’t fall sleep until midnight, woke up at 4 AM and basically started our day. The only upside to that is that I caught the sunrise this morning and… there are no words.

It was totally vacant! At one point the skyline looked like a scene from Aristocats, that one amazing cartoon movie about talking french cats. I almost thought I imagined a stray cat jumping from one building to the next… and I hate cats.

K, see ya!

Au Revoir !

Posted on September 3, 2013 by hillaryarless

This is officially our last day in the states! We leave today to London and then get to Paris some time on Wednesday. We’ll stay in Paris a couple days to get used to the shopping—I mean time change! From Paris we’re literally taking trains, planes and automobiles to get to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and then… we walk!

I’m packing for basically two different trips. When we’re done with our trek, we’re going to head back to Paris for a couple weeks to celebrate all our hard walkin’. I’m packing a backpack for the Camino that is strategically filled with necessary things like ponchos, flashlights and a sleeping bag. My other bag (That isn’t coming with us on the walk) is rather large and jam-packed with my usual traveling necessities like skirts, scarves and heels. So this should be pretty interesting.

I spent most of yesterday downloading and listening to music for my humungous play list, packing and repacking my backpack and trying to not cry over having to say goodbye to my dog. She spent most of the day moping around behind me, acting like an Eeyore. I’m pretty sure she knows I’m leaving and it breaks my heart every time we make eye contact. Whenever I’m packing for a trip, she tends to find the highest pile of nicely folded clothes and conk out on them or she conveniently snuggles her way right into my suitcase.

Yes—she’s that dog. The one with the huge puppy eyes and the sweetest little whiskers you’ve ever seen.

I always say that she’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Thanks to some amazing people that love us almost as much as they love our pups, I know our girls will be left in loving hands so I’m not worried.

As hard as it is to say goodbye to everyone I love for a short two months, I’m beyond excited to start this journey with my mom. She’s such an amazing woman. I’m hoping some more of her will rub off on me during these next two months.

My sister and my brother-in-law got me a Nike Fuelband for my birthday so I can count my steps each day. I might be more excited about this wristband than the actual walk itself. I’m excited about it because it is such a great way to document the trek. It was such a thoughtful gift and I’m so thankful for them in general.

I think the idea of a Nike Fuelband is really inspiring. The second I put it on my wrist it kind of lit a fire underneath my butt to get out and be active. I turned it on and before I even put it on my wrist it was already yelling at me to “GO!” If a little robot on your wrist that tallies your steps doesn’t motivate you, nothing will!

Alright… I get it. Enough anticipation. It’s time to start moving.

Au revoir, friends!

My Camino

Monthly Archives: September 2013