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Showing posts from October, 2017

London

We found $29 airplane tickets to London. So we left Spain for a week to check out this city and kind of regroup after the Camino.  There was a little bit of whiplash heading from rural northern Spain to the bustling streets of London.  Our siesta was suddenly gone, but afternoon tea made up for it. We hit the museums hard.  London can be expensive, but for families who are travel schooling, this city has something that can’t be passed up: FREE world-class museums.  Thanks to the horrors of colonialism, England has curated an amazing collection of other people’s stuff all in one place. The English love to show it off, and we had some European History curriculum to fulfill.  The British Museum for starters has The Rosetta Stone, that is “The” not “a” Rosetta Stone. Turns out it isn’t a box set of DVDs . Also an unbelievable collection of artifacts from the Parthenon.  Charlotte read 9 books while we were on the Camino, all about the Greek and Roman gods, so she was particularly intereste

Finisterre

At the end of the Camino is  Finisterre, from the Latin words finis terrae, meaning "end of the earth".  The Romans thought this was it, nothing beyond, and to be honest it still kind of feels that way.  This  is about at far west as we can get without getting really wet.  And if a little bit of me felt like I didn’t want the Camino to end, nothing really says you are done like the ocean,  we waived to y’all. I had the girls come up with the top five reasons that kids should walk the Camino.  I want to say that I 100% get that we have had an opportunity that so few others are able to take.  This trip is nearly impossible for most families, certainly because of the sheer amount of time (it actually wasn’t more money than our normal budget at home!).  But some might have the opportunity, and we think they should jump on it.  Young, old, or in a wheelchair (check out the book: I’ll Push You) the Camino can be a great pilgrimage for everyone.  Plus this was good for the kids to g

Santiago de Compostela

............. We hiked into Santiago de Compostela 48 days since the start of our journey.  Walking through the historic arch, into the plaza to a breathtaking view of the Cathedral and its intricate scaffolding.  I mentioned the scaffolding to my friend from the UK and she said “oh, well it wouldn’t be a proper European cathedral without scaffolding, now would it.”  Scaffolding or no scaffolding we were standing in front of the resting place of Saint James and it was transformative. Well probably the resting place of Saint James, let’s be honest, a lot could have happened since 40AD.  James or no James, we were standing in front of the destination of our pilgrimage, the pilgrimage for thousands of people for over ten centuries, it was a holy moment. We shuffled over to the pilgrims' office to receive our Compostela, our official certification of completion.  We “proved” our pilgrimage in the almost 80 stamps we had collected throughout our journey.  A  Compostela is the

The road to Santiago

We hiked into fall.  One item I had not excepted, was the absence of all things pumpkin.  I wouldn’t consider myself a huge pumpkin spice fan, but as a white girl, once the leaves begin to fall, I was on the hunt.  I was making friendly chatter with a sweet lady at a panaderia (bread and coffee shop).  I had seen calabazas (pumpkins) in the fields and I knew they had to go in something.  I asked her about pumpkin bread or muffins or cookies or cake or bars or just a slice of straight up pumpkin.  She had never heard of such a thing, putting pumpkins into bread.  And when I mentioned we even put it into our coffee, she was sure I had the wrong word.  But no, I googled it.  We are also missing the pumpkin patches, apple days, trick or treating...  the first holiday away.  It is starting to sink in exactly what a year abroad means. However, our last days on the trail have been full of anticipation and excitement.  We got to wander through a 4th century BC ruin, it was kind of like a hay

A dirt road

............ You meet the best people on a dirt road.  About a month ago we were somewhere along the Meseta, it was a hot dry day with the same view as yesterday and we started walking with Andria.  She was easy to talk with and even easier to listen to cause she’s had all the cool experiences.  She is currently living in Chile on a ranch and is a documentary photographer, see all the cool.  We  stalked her walked with her all day, and she just sent me these.  We have not had a family picture that wasn’t taken on our phone in over three years, so to get some on the Camino... these are the “oh I will run back into that burning building to save them” good.  So if you find yourself in Chile and need a documentary photographer, or if you are the luckiest people on the planet and happen upon her on a dirt road, get some photos!  If not follow her on Instagram  @ahowdyphoto her site is stunning.  Almost makes me want to live on a ranch in Chile. Photo credit: Andria Hautamaki

Wolf pack

On adventures, I often think of my grandparents. I miss them. Even though they were rarely able to leave their Midwest farms, they would listen to stories of my travels.  My grandma Betty would have done this if she could have, and it’s her spirit of adventure that fuels me here.  I brought her with me in a ring my aunt gave me before I left.  Originally I had meant to leave the ring at Cruz de Ferro, as many do, tokens from those who are now gone.  But I couldn’t, she isn’t my burden to leave.  There are many older people on the Camino, and there are times that as we walk with them, Jake will whisper “that’s my Papa, if he was French and feisty”.  Papa was one of those things, and it wasn’t French.  They are each with us as we walk, a part of who we have become.  A couple of days ago we were sharing a good meal with several other pilgrims.  An older German man was sitting next to me, and I was talking with him about his Camino.  He reminded me of my Grandpa Pete, a man who would hav

Galicia

................. When we began in France, 43 days ago on the eastern mountain range of the Camino de Santiago, we hiked 7 km on our first day.  We were nervous, in over-our-heads, excited puppies and 7 was all we had to give. On the western mountain range about 650 km away, we killed 28 km on our first day.  These ladies here, they are trail tough.  We are get-it-done, save your cryin’ for your mama, hardcore girls.  The local Spanish call Claire a  cabra de montaƱa (mountain goat) and Charlotte hasn’t let anyone pass her on an uphill in over a week.  They got mountains to climb, so move along with your blistered feet. We have been through two seasons and six regions, and have hiked our bodies into Galicia.  Since the beginning, Jake and I held getting to the end pretty lightly.  Someone on the trail would ask how far we were going.  We would say, “yeah we just want to see how far we can get.” But seeing the sign for Galicia, Jake turned to me and said, “Wow, you know, I think we are