It's official: I am going back to Spain this spring to walk the St. James Trail. In just seven weeks, I'll be flying overnight to Paris and from there taking the midday train to the foothills of the Pyrenees. I'll have supper in St. Jean Pied de Port and try to get a good night's sleep because I'm going to need it. From the city's west gate, it's 10 miles straight up to the Roncevaux Pass and from there, another 470 miles and two high ridges to the gravesite of St. James the Apostle. I'll have 32 days.
They say the first day on the trail is the hardest because the path across the Pyrenees is so steep and cold, but the rest should be better. I hope that's true, because I'll have to average 15 miles a day to reach Santiago de Campostela by Thursday of Easter Week, and I'm no longer a spring chick.
If I finish by Thursday, I'll have time to go to Seville for the end of Holy Week. On Good Friday, the Basilica de la Virgen de la Esperanza Macarena brings out its unique Crying Virgin and parades her through the streets in the Semana Santa procession of penitent brotherhoods. The Virgin of the Good Winds is in Seville, too, and the Archive of the Indies -- thousands of documents and artifacts that date back to the conquest. One long unfettered weekend, that's all I ask.
Yes, of course, that's plenty for one trip, but there is one thing more. As a bonus day, I am flying home through London on April 29, the prince's wedding day. If the plane lands on time, I'll be in the city by 9 that morning, with time to hustle over to Westminster for a glimpse of the royal carriage as it leaves the church and a quick tour of the British Museum before I have to scuttle off to Heathrow for my 7:00 p.m. flight home. Just one portion of fish and chips would make it a perfect day.
And that's it. This will be my third long-distance trek, but my first in another country, my first in another language, my first by foot, and my first as a senior citizen. So there may be surprises. All I know right now is I need to walk, walk, walk and I need to study my Spanish. Fifty days, that's all I have.
I'll keep you posted.
They say the first day on the trail is the hardest because the path across the Pyrenees is so steep and cold, but the rest should be better. I hope that's true, because I'll have to average 15 miles a day to reach Santiago de Campostela by Thursday of Easter Week, and I'm no longer a spring chick.
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| The Crying Virgin |
If I finish by Thursday, I'll have time to go to Seville for the end of Holy Week. On Good Friday, the Basilica de la Virgen de la Esperanza Macarena brings out its unique Crying Virgin and parades her through the streets in the Semana Santa procession of penitent brotherhoods. The Virgin of the Good Winds is in Seville, too, and the Archive of the Indies -- thousands of documents and artifacts that date back to the conquest. One long unfettered weekend, that's all I ask.
Yes, of course, that's plenty for one trip, but there is one thing more. As a bonus day, I am flying home through London on April 29, the prince's wedding day. If the plane lands on time, I'll be in the city by 9 that morning, with time to hustle over to Westminster for a glimpse of the royal carriage as it leaves the church and a quick tour of the British Museum before I have to scuttle off to Heathrow for my 7:00 p.m. flight home. Just one portion of fish and chips would make it a perfect day.
And that's it. This will be my third long-distance trek, but my first in another country, my first in another language, my first by foot, and my first as a senior citizen. So there may be surprises. All I know right now is I need to walk, walk, walk and I need to study my Spanish. Fifty days, that's all I have.
I'll keep you posted.
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