La Gallina

I´ve arrived in Santo Domingo, a lovely town marked by a completely unique cathedral. There´s a local legend from the 16th century that tells of a German pilgrim being sent to the gallows after being blackmailed by an innkeeper´s daughter for not sleeping with her. Just before being hung, St. James saved his life miraculously. Upon the false declaration by the town judge that the German was dead, his parents exclaimed: my son is as alive as the rooster and hen on your plate! Just then they sprang to life and quacked their way into infamy. A rooster and hen now perenially live within the cathedral. My albergue houses the backup chickens in its garden.

Tonight at 8:30 there is a choral concert in the cathedral, and afterwards I will take a nocturnal tour at 10 pm. This is most splendid timing. Roberta, the other Brazilian with knee trouble, is staying here as well. It is always nice to have familiar faces around.

I´m incredibly thankful to have met some great new people on the camino; the crowd I am walking with is much younger than I expected, and we´ve bonded together in our desire to save money by cooking communal dinners, often with limited means. Two nights ago, we microwaved our way to simple pasta in tomato sauce and a hearty salad. The dinner was accompanied by wine from a local family owned bodega, where we were given a personal tour. Total cost: three dollars. Yesterday in Azofra, Daniel from Sweden and I were the chefs and we went Mexican style. Pan fried chicken, rice with hot peppers, onions, garlic, potatoes and peas and beans with onion. Most delicious!

The knee is functioning. Though I hoped to take a break in Azofra working at the albergue, I was told my help was not needed. Since the city offered less than an hour´s worth of siteseeing, I walked on to Santo Domingo. I think I´ve actually walked more kilometers with tendonitis than without, and this is encouraging. I´ll likely take my two-day break in Burgos instead.

I´ve dedicated the rest of my pilgrimage to Jay. Please take the time to donate the American Cancer Society in his honor.

(see post below)

Concerning Jay

I dont understand how Facebook, blogs and the internet function when serious events pass. I have this blog, though, that affords me an awkward forum to address normally inconsequential topics, like windy days at the beach or days spent walking. I don´t feel it is an appropriate space to eulogize anyone, especially not someone extremely close to me, but writing about anything else seems irrelevant and irresponsible.

A few days ago a dear, dear friend of mine, Jay Townsend, passed away. Jay was an enigmatic, talented, accepting and loving friend to many, many people. He and I grew extremely close since meeting in 2002 at Rice´s School of Architecture. Over the course of eight years, we were fortunate to produce a healthy body of work together, including various architecture projects, one documentary, one art exhibit, and most recently one pending installation proposal. Each of these projects was an exercise in personal humility; Jay was so brilliantly talented that I simply stood out of his way and happily basked in the credit he was so individually and appropriately due. Thanks for letting me look good, Jay.

I was lucky to spend much of his last few months with him, and am happy to say that he was in great, great spirits. Jay´s death will always be appropriately considered untimely, so I´ll offer a simple, positive toast for Jay: Here´s to a timely life.

Federico Cavazos de la Frontera

From DQLM

Just then they came in sight of thirty or forty windmills that rise from that plain. And no sooner did Don Quixote see them that he said to his squire, "Fortune is guiding our affairs better than we ourselves could have wished. Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them. With their spoils we shall begin to be rich for this is a righteous war and the removal of so foul a brood from off the face of the earth is a service God will bless."

"What giants?" asked Sancho Panza.

"Those you see over there," replied his master, "with their long arms. Some of them have arms well nigh two leagues in length."

"Take care, sir," cried Sancho. "Those over there are not giants but windmills. Those things that seem to be their arms are sails which, when they are whirled around by the wind, turn the millstone."

The First Setback

is quite difficult. As the day wore on today, my knee felt less and less comfortable - just behind the right side of my right kneecap, something ain´t right, alright? In Villahurta, I consulted my Finnish friend Veera´s Runes. My draw: 7, 6 (reversed) and 23. The verbatim descriptiong: Standstill and Ice. Booked a bed in a wild albergue run by Brazilian hippies, which has given me a nice opportunity to get a leg massage, plenty of advice from the free spirits staying here and a long, long nap on the hammocks outside.

I´m surprised about why this is difficult, because the pain itself is very bearable. I struggle with unmet expectations. Stopping yourself now to be able to complete the rest of the camino is much, much harder than walking on. A strong community develops; one that travels together each day. Staying behind means losing that group. I´d become especially close to my man Eduardo from Colombia, Veera from Finland, Paulo from One-ness University (and Brazil) and Heinz LikeTheKetchup from Austria. The stay in Villahuerta has been quite rewarding in other ways, though: I received a personal tour of the local cathedral from a sweet old lady. I have three "angels" looking after me in Carmen, Marialuisa and Maria Ilda, three Spanish retired sisters I ate dinner with, and I was able to upload photos. Enjoy!

Two Days in Five Minutes

Conceived and written in the five minutes of internet I have today:

I have now walked a total of 75 km and each day has been uniquely challenging but consistent enough for me to give a few ideas about what this experience is like. I want to temper everything written by saying that this time has been absolutely amazing - I have not a single complaint. The Way is difficult to describe because each phrase I would like to use is contradictory. The journey is an omnivorous experience, its dpeht in terms of how much time is spent means that you experience the entire spectrum of emotions and feelings. Often times I feel like I am part of a real community, an Adult College who´s members are from all over the world and who have decided to enroll at all different stages in their lives. Each person brings something that is particularly unique - those traveling alone moreso than others. At the same time (here is where contradictions arise), there is a certain consistency to our presence here. We were all ¨called¨ for lack of a better term , and made certain sacrifices in our lives to make this possible. The way is soothing and strenuous, hot and cold, time consuming and time allowing. It is great. And yes - you and and should do it. Out of time - au Revoir form Pamplona!

A Day in the Pyrenean Clouds

I just completed the first stage of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela - a 27 km hike through the Pyreness from St Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles. Today´s hike conisted of climbing 800 m and scaling 200 m back down to this sleepy small town just south of the Spanish French border. The entire day was spent walking through a dense cloud, a surreal experience. I´m staying in a renovated monastery, in a room with about 300 beds in it (photos to come). There´s no real type of person that completes this camino, as the crowd seems diverse both in age and in nationality. No blisters or large aches yet, and I attribute this to my light pack weight and superior genetic makeup (thanks Mom and Dad). All facetiousness aside, I´ve not much time to type but I promise, if you are reading this blog, I´ve probably thought about you since I´ve been here! One thing I have a lot of time is time to think. Cheers!

Dear Switzerland,

Our fiery relationship was enigmatic, thrilling, beautiful and charming. Our time together in Interlaken was a dramatic ride of thrills, slides, jumps and ill-timed, late night interventions with young Americans. My alter-ego, Guava, emerged, and he, Guava, carried me through your rocks and glacier water off waterfalls, lagoons and light filled precipices. Off your stones he flipped and through your canyons he swung. Luzern was a pleasant time, and our night-time bike rides were endearing, but I just couldn't get as excited to see you. Like all things passionate, the fire passed, and your grey side was revealed. We tried one last time to make it work in Zurich, a dynamic place painted neutral by the weather and my cold. In the end, though, you were not cheap or strange enough for me. There's someone out there for you. Don't call me, I'll call you.

XOXO
Fede

UPDATE: Added Canyoning photos.