Tag Archives: Spain

Summer Camper Trip – Posada de Valdeón, Spain

‘And if travel is like love, it is, in the end, mostly because it’s a heightened state of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, undimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed. That is why the best trips, like the best love affairs, never really end.’ – Pico Lyer

My love affair with travel extends far beyond the beauty of new places and people. I have no bucket list. I have a lust for the affair. And it’s no wonder I’ve created a life that has revolved around this affair. Without it my soul is starved – without adventure there’s no oxygen. However, the great climax of this affair is the never ending path it opens up. The next adventure. The return to life with new perspectives and motivations. And let’s face it most of us still need to return to a routined, stable life. We do! With four kids, two of high school age, a mortgage and retirement to think about.

It has always felt indulgent and privileged to write about and experience travel in the way I do. I’ve decided to not allow that to hold me back from exploring it in writing. In the past I have. And I believe I must because I’m all about living life (everyday life) as an ongoing adventure filled with exploration and growth. To ignore the influence travel plays in my life is not the whole story, not my story. I never want to contribute to a landscape of encouraging people to lust after something, but rather to find their own way. Yet, so much of who I am comes from my need to wander and why. My desire to wander daily with love and lust for the beauty of life. All of life.

These past few years have been quite an expedition. Mostly, I’ve embraced the notion of finding freedom, of removing the shackles of expectations. And of releasing myself from what I thought life would or should look like. In these mountains – the Picos de Europa I leapt froward. I hiked on my own (which I do) and as I was enraptured by the wild beauty, scared (of the wild boars) when I started walking through a bracken covered dense trail, hurt when I fell on my back descending the mountain and strengthened when I navigated the map – I was also completely at peace. At peace with the joy, unknown, fear and pain.

I was as close to myself as I could get out there in those mountains. And I didn’t sleep that night … rather, I lay awake. Not awake over analyzing thoughts but excited by new thoughts and ideas. Excited about what comes next for me. This next transition as I choose to leave doubts behind and become a stronger woman. A warrior woman who hugs fear. On that mountain fear become my mirror and for me, staring at fear is as honest as it gets.

What a delightfully endearing town this is. A place where the children could play in our €10 per night camper spot surrounded by mountains. The children were invited to play soccer with locals. A place where we met a camper family from NZ who had been on the road for 17 months! We were so enthralled by their stories, particularly their love of Sardinia and their generosity in sharing their experiences. I finished reading a manuscript written by a friend, what a sacred privilege, it had me inspired and dreaming of possibilities in my own kitchen and garden. I was taken with the locals working and playing with their hands. And that strikes me as something we need to consider – what we doing with our hands. One thought I’ll be taking forward with me.

Buen Camino lovelies,

F xx

Camper tips:

Cosy! Don’t forget COSY. You can have movie nights, snuggle and make TUE popcorn. Sometimes if you’re lucky and there’s a restaurant in view you can leave your kids to watch the movie and dine out on scrumptious, local fare. Of course the first setting isn’t until 9pm – because Spain!

Summer Camper Trip – Bilbao, Spain.

I don’t actively seek the scallops or the yellow arrows but as we settle into this month long trip along the North coast of Spain here they are again! Of course it’s not surprising given that the Norte Camino route towards Santiago weaves it’s way along this part of the world. I do like the reminders though … to follow the ‘way’.

When we first landed in The Netherlands we had an experience in the ‘expat’ housing system that led me to an unfamiliar place. A place where even though you do what’s right you can still get hurt. Sometimes no matter what you do a situation just can not be fixed, your decision has turned into a bad one. I like to live in a trusting world and so feeling like I’d landed in a mistake because of my trusting nature was a tough one for me to navigate. Even with all my wildness I still follow rules … so when a party doesn’t play fair it’s a challenge for me. The whole situation had me re-evaluating every decision I’d made in the past few years it shook me hard.

It’s a situation we moved away from but for a while it stole something from me. Trust. Thankfully I had the camino for One Girl to anchor me. Without the connection to One Girl it would have been easy for me to walk away from walking the camino. The trust I lost is the kind that is rooted in my core (my soul) … trust that the universe would be kind as long as I’m kind and honest. Perhaps it messed with my pre-conceived notions of karma.

Now, with some space between the darkness of that time and the light the of the camino and all the acts of kindness* along the way. I trust the ‘way’ I’m living and wandering about in this life again. And I’m enjoying this dip into uncertainty that always comes when I step into a new adventurous experience. The unchartered new perspectives and thoughts that are sparked by my curiosity and love of unplanned travel. Clarity, will in time unfurl the ‘way’ for me so long as I surrender to trust.

Without trust it’s easy for fear to win don’t you think? And when fear wins we don’t dare. Dare to try, dream, believe – to trust in ourselves and the universe. It’s easy for the beasts of fear and doubt and modern day expectations to hold us prisoner but I’m not surrendering to them. I’m not going down the garden path of fear, expectations and complacency without a fight. As my sister says … ‘those who take risks and live adventurously always end up ok’. I will forever be walking my own camino and embracing that I have a choice in how I tread that path. Even when it requires re-writing old stories and always by creating new ones.

Bilbao – home of a Guggenheim museum. It was a stop we didn’t manage last year. We were hightailing across Spain to escape the Portuguese heat waves. City stops in a camper are not always the easiest and for us they’re often the first thing we cross off our ‘where we want to go’ list.

As with any museum there were exhibitions that appealed to us and those that didn’t. I’m glad we visited … although if you have kids the staff aren’t shy about shaming you if they step anywhere near the art (be prepared). It’s definitely not a museum you can let a toddler loose in because you can get up close to amazing pieces of work and in our case the Joana Vasconcelos exhibition. No photos as it wasn’t allowed. If you get a chance and this exhibition makes it to your country I’d love to chat about it with you if you see it. I’m still thinking about it.

Then we basically just wandered, got soaked, ate the best tortilla (ever), enjoyed a picnic baguette and spent our own time back at camp sinking into the freedom and space that comes with #vanlife. The view was a €15 per night postcard. We also wore through all our clothes as there wasn’t a one stop shop** with washers on the way in to Bilbao from San Sebastián. Not like France.

We stayed two nights and left with three bags full (of washing and contentment). Seeing our kids as themselves is the most beautiful gift. Even running out of smalls can’t dampen our spirits … we are in our travel and family element (and we can hand wash). So with a car loaded after a big old food shop (can’t speak highly enough about stocking up) it’s onwards. Towards the beach for the luxury of that salty smell, a surf for the grommets amongst us and a washing machine!

Buen Camino,

Fran xx

*Kindness. Yes, I’m talking to you lot: the messages, the crystals, the artwork, the sage sticks, the spells and mostly the trust. The trust you put in me to do something that mattered and by encouraging me with all your support. It was everything, it kept me tethered.

** if you’re reading this and planning to Camper … we found a big carrefour in the industrial part out of town (Bilbao). The Repsol (petrol station) had an eco laundry attached to it.

Camper tips:

City stays!

We’ve done a few. The easiest ones are the ones that have a metro, bus or train station close by. If you’re lucky you can find a park up within walking distance (San Sebastián and Girona – awesome ones). Mostly for the big cities we have stayed in caravan parks. Rome, Barcelona, Lisbon all convenient but be prepared to transport in. We made it all the way to Madrid only to decide we’d give it a miss. The caravan park (the only one) was pretty gross and it was a bus and tram away … and in 40 degree heat, not fun with kids. There is a freedom in embracing flexibility and spontaneity, in not ticking every box and in choosing easy – the possibility of something even more wonderful. Freedom from stress, isn’t that one of the things we go away to remember?

Summer Camper Trip – San Sebastián, Spain.

Imagine if we finished everything we started! Gosh we’d be busy wouldn’t we. Nah, busy is not for me … never has been and especially not when it comes to travel. Active – sure. But checking off a ‘to see or do’ everything list, nah not interested. Now that we travel with kids I think I’d go mad if I tried. So when we leave we often know there will be another time or perhaps even another place.

That ‘another time’ in San Sebastián came these past few days. We passed through here on our trip last year. Last year as we wandered along the cobblestones, drank the sangria, ate the tapas and even got hair cuts* … we knew in our hearts we’d be back as we fell for this city and it’s inviting city beach. La Concha. Yes – we’d be back to swim and play here.

*we often do every day get organised kinds of things like get hair cuts when we travel! Seriously, it’s so much easier with four to get a haircut at the time you just happen to walk past one together.

We arrived at the motorhome park we stayed in last year (€7.90 per night) where everything is in walking distance. After dealing with the facilities, (more on that in camper tips) we realised the park up was full. We knew there was another one out of town but as we left we noticed there were many campers parked on the surrounding streets. A 7m house on wheels needs a long car park but if there is enough footpath and it’s low we can back right up and fit into one spot.

Last year I’m not sure we would have considered parking up in the street! But now we’re a lot more adventurous. Gosh I remember the first time we ‘wild’ camped in Portugal last year in a beach car park I was so nervous. Wild camping is the term for ‘free’ camping, generally in a non camping spot. And doing it in a city is a first for us. We even slept with our windows open! Seriously my levels of fear have shifted significantly. That’s practice though isn’t it. It’s the same with anything right, the more we do something the better we get at it. It’s nice to be able to measure yourself a year later and see how far you’ve come.

Gosh kids are adaptable … in a manner of a few days we’ve gone from exploring world war 1 trenches, to climbing mountains to a day playing with kids from around the world they’d never met and now a city street park up! And the first thing they did when we parked was to start playing down ball against the available concrete wall. My kids sink so freely into exploring and travel as long as they can play!

After a night parked ‘wild’ we found a spot in the motor home park and settled ourselves in between a van of young German lads and a Dutch van. The German lads tended to spend a lot of time over at a van full of young German girls! No surprises there. We bonded easily with the neighbors after one of our boys let a loud fart rip (much to his embarrassment, the littlest ;)). The Germans all thought it was hilarious and said it sounded like their van.

We’re still sticking with one pot, one plate meals when we can … wraps work as a brilliant plate. And the afternoon chop and snack type foods! Oranges are the best in Spain – as you would expect. Most of the food in Europe is grown here I imagine.

We ended up staying three nights in SS and enjoyed a magical day playing at La Concha. I finally test rode my SUP. I was a bit wobbly, but with a month up my sleeve to practice I hope to be cruising into the the spring on the canals back in The Netherlands. Z was a natural. It was brilliant to visit again and to have swam in the picturesque harbour. I swam out to the pontoon and managed to talk myself through the deep water dread I sometimes get in the Australian oceans. No sharks here! We spent an afternoon strolling in the old town (bugger the hairdresser was closed) and as the sunset on the third night we decided it was time to head out next morning.

After camping in a tight city park up it felt like the right time to move on and seek some space. This is the great joy of the campervan, the freedom to move with our moods and needs. The Dutch campers next to us and the subsequent Dutch van that camped after them were so ‘night’ noisy. Both coming home at late night and reorganizing and sorting their vans for a morning departure. It’s part of summer camper vanning there are more people around! We were so spoilt last year traveling in the off peak season between March and July. Although I have been pleasantly surprised how easy it is to park up without hordes of people out of the cities. Motor home parks are transient places not full of month long ‘set up house’ type campers.

So we say good bye to San Sebastián. We both decided this would be a weekender place for us now if we were to return. A place to sneak away as adults or with friends to enjoy the cobblestone streets with its bars of tapas that spill with fun and conviviality out into the late afternoons.

Buen camino friends we’re off to Bilbao,

Fran xx

Camper tips:

The facilities! No hiding from it … it’s got to be done.

Have the chemicals! Don’t run out. They can be purchased at service stations, supermarkets and camper parks. I once read a story of a family who didn’t realise you need chemical in a chemical toilet!!!

Gloves get some heavy duty ones! Greg likes to wipe with detail wipes after each empty.

Empty as often as you can. Filing the facilities is risky.

Get used to sending everyone off to the toilet when there is one available – even just in case they can go.

Week 5 – Santiago to Finisterra to Santiago

‘It is an act of courage to walk a camino. And I mean camino in the broad sense – a camino is any long walk you take, any path towards change.’ ~ Camino Reflections.

There is a post missing! The last week in Santiago. To those of you who followed along while I was on the camino and many of you did. Can you believe that in April there were over 2K views on my blog. Now I have no idea what that means in blog numbers, I’m sure it’s mini and I don’t care to look it up but to me it was huge to see a K there. People were reading my story and coming back. Maybe they went for a walk or even thought about going for a hike, perhaps they donated to One Girl or looked up their work – that’s awesome right there! And please don’t worry I am not trying to replicate those numbers my goal here is not that, it’s simply to share in a quiet space. Maybe a bit like an old school ‘community centre’ – a warm, calm place to be, to dream, hopefully with some interesting corners (hmm blog goals). The words of one of my kind reader’s Karen (of @coffeeteabooks) seem fitting with how I am feeling ‘a little stirring and a jiggle to start things up again’. I have more in me, in this One Girl story and it seems my contribution does impact others not just me, there is so much more to write about. There is room in the blogosphere for stories to be shared, they are what inspire me. In fact my calls to action often come from reading the words of others. So without further a-do let’s pick up where we left off in Santiago …. the last week.

Where was I? Oh yes! I was on a bus to Finisterre after a few days rest in Santiago. My emotions were mixed, perhaps raw is a better word. I knew I needed to move, to get out of Santiago for a bit but still I felt cheated. I had walked the first 710kms and 27 days with fire in my belly and spark in my legs – in a state of joyful euphoria. Then one night I began to feel tired, feverish and one of my shins had a dull ache towards the end of the day. And so close we were, just a mere 90kms out of Santiago and now I was injured? As you know I made it into Santiago, the end point of the Camino Frances Pilgrimage … just. It is fair to say that those last 90kms (three days) were torturous. It was pure grit and determination alone that took me into Santiago. And maybe my sister feeding me chocolate and doing her darnedest to distract me ‘Fran if you could live anywhere in the world …’? ‘Everywhere’ of course!

When I arrived in Santiago I couldn’t make it to the Cathedral that first day, there was nothing left. Physically or mentally. I had to get off my legs (remember by this time both shins were raging furnaces of pain). I needed to stop. STAT. That first evening I cried. When I woke the next morning I kept crying. I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. It was the great tidal release of the pain of the past few days.

Supportive, holding the fort at home for five weeks husband said, ‘enjoy what you’ve achieved, you finished, write a last blog post and go celebrate and eat nice food with your sister’. He is pretty amazing (must not take him for granted). It hadn’t hit me that I had achieved something momentous, it couldn’t. The past days had given me no time for reflection or comprehension, just an incomprehensible feeling of loss. A loss of myself. Of my strong body. Even now I look at photos of wonder and joy on the faces of people who arrive at the cathedral – I never had that. Perhaps if it was my intended end point I would have had those feelings but as you know it wasn’t. I wanted to hike on the Finisterre. To the end of the earth. And I couldn’t. Thankfully, the camino is not about the finish … it’s all those incredible days along the way.

Frank and Alan, the Texan brothers, Mark and Lucas our German friends were all still a few days behind. We had met up and said our goodbye’s to the wise Fin’s who were now on their way home. We had also met up with sassy Laura from America and quiet and deeply aware Jess from Canada they had continued on their walk.  The German and UK Andy’s as well as Martha the fiercely strong, super sweet Dane were also on their way to Finisterre by foot. Relationships are strong on the camino. I wonder if I would have met these people in any other settings would we have become friends? I’m not sure we would have we are all of different ages, some with different politics and we all have very different lives. I am sure our paths would never have crossed.

But coincidence, timing and connection resulted in these pilgrims becoming my camino family. That is the absolute beauty of the camino you find who you’re meant to find. Like the big world we don’t get along with everyone just those who for what ever reason we gel with. They were #caminodeep and yes I fought the idea of a camino family because I still believed I wasn’t like everyone else but it turns out I am. This motley crew of kind, gutsy, funny, wise, fierce, tough, gentle, caring, intelligent hikey people will forever be my camino family.

Getting on the bus was the right move. A change of scenery and some motion to help shift my perspective. The kind hearted messages and comments that you lot delivered from home (or while on your travels) to my blog, IG account, to my what’s ap etc were beautifully and gladly received during this week and along the entire camino. More than you will know. It was like the old days of receiving post from the postman. I honestly have a moment with all of you that I can recall. I will be forever grateful that I walked the camino with each of you – my extended camino family.

Of course as soon we arrived into Finisterre we ran into some old favourites! The fluro gear wearing Italian friends. We never had long conversations with those guys but they were always just around a corner or at a table having their long two hour lunches with wine. We did learn that they were Alpine Mountain Rescuers. I am hoping my husband doesn’t have to meet them next week as he sets of on his Tour du Mont Blanc. He is taking a tent with him, there is no way he could do the night’s filled with snoring in the huts ;). I am not sure which of us is the more hardcore.

The first evening we hiked up to the lighthouse at Finisterre. It is one of the most powerful working lighthouses in Europe and as the night would unfold a spiritual place. As I have written previously Finisterre takes its name from the latin finis terrae, meaning “end of the earth”. At the end of this Roman road is where the Romans thought the earth ended and also where the ancient celts worshiped the sun. I can absolutely understand why. The sun, as it sets over the Atlantic to the east of the continent literally and spectacularly drops from the sky into the ocean. It is without question the MOST moving sunset I have ever witnessed and also without doubt it won’t be the last time I do. I am a creature of habit like that. Like Rome and the pantheon … each visit never feels like the the last.

There is a small cafe and hotel on Cape Finisterre. Small enough to exist yet taking nothing from the spectacular horizon and 360 degree beauty of the cape. It was the perfect place to sit with my sister enjoying a beer and a tapa as we awaited the sunset. Many people were scattered around the rocks with a bottle of wine and cheese. It was a bit windy for us. Something powerful happened that night as the mountain goats appeared on the cliffs just as the sun was beginning to set and drop away into the ocean.

I consider mountain goats to be one of my way markers in life. They are what I see when I dream of the Pyrenees and the Alps. Thinking of mountain goats can take me back to the wonder and freedom of our time spent in the campervan last year as a family. If I imagine the sounds of the bells I am instantly taken to spring, to flowers and snow tops, to adventurous kids playing in mountain springs, to deep smiles and feelings of awe and contented bliss. I can smell the fresh air. It’s important to have lived moments you can escape into don’t you think? I know, I digress, again. It’s a long story this one. The arrival of the goats reminded me I was home for the moment, right where I needed to be. They gave me a sense of peace and the permission I needed to let go of the disappointment of not walking there.

The camino is full of coincidences. Here is another one for you. That morning I had said to the Texan brothers ‘if you see German Lucas say hi’. I knew they must be at similar points on the trail and honestly you never know who you will see around the next corner or who will arrive at the Albergue that night. Wouldn’t you know it … a what’s ap photo and a message arrived. They had found Lucas sitting on a park bench! Here’s another. That night as we were having a beer and watching the sunset over the Atlantic a divine Sth African hiker who I had met at that ‘chicks who rock’ dinner with the Danes back on day 11, in Cardeñuela Ríopico walked into the cafe (there were 6 people in total in this cafe!). She was super interesting and I was so excited to be able finish the conversations we had started at that dinner three weeks before about the master’s degree she was about to start and about her mum’s camino blog. She was following in her mum’s footsteps and walking the camino, that’s an unreal story in itself. We also heard from Martha out of the blue … she was on the way in and hoped to meet up with us!

So we relaxed. Ate more food. Probably the best food we had eaten along the camino. We walked with our feet in the sand and started to wonder what would come next. That first meal in the photos by the way was served at 11.30 pm the night before. Honestly we were finally hitting our ‘Spanish time’ stride. As we were wandering along the beach guess who arrived by foot – Laura and Jess (writer of The Things She Carried – her camino story).These two will light up any room, both with their own stories and reasons for taking a long walk. It was an honour to have met these two. Along the camino I took many photos of pilgrims as they walked. I would then catch them or bump into them along the way and ask for their emails to forward the photos on to them. I was so happy to finally be able to take a photo for these two.

As I pondered my way though the days at Finisterre I did feel antsy and without purpose. After so many days of moving, of putting my backpack on, of sharing the evolving hike for One Girl story and of walking I was struggling with stopping. I enjoyed the moving. I had felt a bit stagnate before I left for the camino (there is an expat warning story there I am nearly ready to share). Now I felt I had found something and everything, anything seemed possible. I needed to keep the momentum alive. But what was everything?

In the quiet of one afternoon I submitted an application to a course I had thought about enrolling in for a long time. I knew I wanted to build on my One Girl contribution, to find a way to possibly contribute professionally. Maybe, just maybe after walking 800kms I could also take the same approach towards studying. I’d started believing I could do it. And by starting at the beginning and walking each day I could get through the research and stats required to produce something that would contribute to the greater good.  Just as the camino had ended so would the two years the course would take me and so I applied to a Masters in Public Health.

My application is still in process and I haven’t made the commitment to study yet. It’s an option, a path. I am thoroughly enjoying studying for my Spanish class and I know I am better at doing things when I am accountable to someone else! Gosh I am lucky to be born Australian where we can apply online and if needed defer our university fees with government assistance. Will I do it? Scary? Yes. But with work and dedication I can do it. I know I can. I am however doing something I don’t always do and that is considering before leaping. I’ll probably leap, of course I will (that’s how I roll) but I want to play a bit with this motion thing I learnt on the camino first. I want to not be looking for something but simply walking forward. I want to walk into the next leap … just as I did with #hikeforonegirl.

Martha and German Andy joined us on the second night for another sunset experience. See I told you last night wouldn’t be the last. Of course this wasn’t the last either because in that cafe the night before I made plans with Frank (older Texan brother) to come back in September to hike Santiago to Finisterre. We are going to make it a round trip and hike back to Santiago you can read why here.  I currently reside in Europe so it is an easy plan for me to make right now – no regrets.

Have you heard of the swinging Botafumerio? It swings in the cathedral in Santiago. It swings to greatlofty heights and fills the room with the sweet smell of the frankincense that burns within the huge incense burner. The burner weights 80kgs and measures up at 1.6 meters, it is rather awe inspiring. We arrived back in Santiago from Finisterre for a holy Sunday so were fortunate enough to witness this incredible tradition. In days past it was to hide the smell of the unwashed pilgrims and as a prophylactic to diseases the pilgrims were thought to carry.

We also were able to catch up with the yin and yang. German Mark and German Lucas. They had arrived in Santiago and if you rememeber Lucas was planning to walk the last 100kms with his mum. An awesome experience to share between a mother and son. We had breakfast and met his mum and those two went on to walk to Finisterre and Muchia. A whopping 950kms for Lucas, a 23yo type one diabetic who had the heaviest pack going around because he carried his medications. People on the camino are inspiring and everyone has their challenges.

We shared a meal and said good bye to our mates Frank and Alan. In the end what started with an unanticipated arrival finished with a perfect ending. We managed over that week to see most of the people we had met along the way. Our camino family. My sister wondered who I was – I was entirely a social beast and if you know me I am far removed from that IRL. (I am also playing with that little nugget I learnt about myself.) Maybe I should be a full time hiker, is that a thing?  ;)

There were two people we didn’t see and we don’t have their details so if anyone reading this knows Mike (newly retired like the Tuesday before he started the camino from St Jean, witty, funny, fast walking pace, washes his ibuprofen down with coke) from the Sth of England. Or Hong (mother of 2, American, married to a German, sometimes drives to Amsterdam for yum cha and Paris for lunch because she feels free on the road, who told her husband she needed to go for a long walk). Please do ask them to get in touch! You never know right? The camino showed me just how small the world can be. Especially when you’re open to coincidences and chance. Putting it out there friends. And sure I know we all have to make things happen, do the work not just put it out there. For me making it happen was saying ‘yes’ to the adventure, the work came from there and the coincidences continue to flow. What an incredible adventure my camino was and still continues to be.

Last, but by no means least of course I must mention that gutsy hiking animal up there to my right. My sister – she made my camino. I will forever treasure the experiences and time we shared walking across Spain together. I can’t wait to see her next month to relive the funnies!

Walk your life, treat it as a camino. Each step, each day all leads somewhere and are part of one great big adventure. ~ Camino reflections.

Ha ha and maybe don’t think this is the last you’ll hear a camino yarn, I have many more to share.

Buen Camino,

Fran xx

As we roll towards an ending we must accept the bump and the climb that is the beginning.

‘Wonder is the beginning of wisdom’ ~ Socrates

One night along the camino I lay uncomfortably zipped up tightly in my bed bug sheet writing and editing a blog post on my iPhone (day 6 of what would become 28 daily adventure posts). It was midnight and I knew those bugs were going to bite, we had made a dodgy accommodation choice (although frankly bugs are a part of the camino). I’d also been gifted a full blown grunting snorer less than a metre to my right! More importantly I had committed myself to prioritising my commitment to writing and to sharing my #hikeforOneGirl with daily discipline and routine, as uncomfortable as I was, I was rising to that challenge. That night, I believe will prove to be a turning point for me. One where hardship (I appreciate the mildness of how this hardship sounds) proved to me that it’s in difficulty and in sitting beyond the edge of my comfort zone that I will find the well of deeper wonder. A blessing and a curse.

Spotting wonder comes easier since making the decision to be present in my life, in today. Honestly, once I began noticing and feeling the seasons, the smiles, smelling the fresh air, hearing the birds, the music, the peace, touching this idea that I had something to create and tasting the deliciousness of connection and kindness I began to crave and share it like a drug. I also started realising how small I am in this big world and how all the things I thought I knew actually don’t really amount to much. That is a bit confronting really! To be mid 40’s and realise that often you’re wrong and have a lot to learn about life, people and basically every discipline that exists. The blessing is that my sense of curiosity WOKE up. It is a curse because now I know that I want to know more and the only way towards that is to create the space to experience it by consuming less. Which means asking myself questions. Hearing less of the noise the world spits out and less of the bullshit that I feed myself to hide away. It is an act of courage to walk a camino. And I mean camino in the broad sense – a camino is any long walk you take, any path towards change.

Something amazing happened when I wrote each day. Aside from the incredible awesomeness of 27 girls in Africa getting an education there was a swell of momentum in my life. A deeper kind of wonder – one that existed because I was part of something bigger. A whirlwind of kindness from people old and new, landscapes of mountains and valleys, vineyards and olive groves, fields and flowers,  horizons and big skies, cities filled with stories and whispers from wandering folk and of courageous exploration. That swell translated into quite an adventure. The kind of free spirited wonder and courageous purpose that is hard to maintain in every day life. But of course I must because every day life is where I live and love.

Continually sitting beyond my comfort zone and comfortable in discomfort with purpose is harder to commit to when life is back to ‘normal’. And ‘normal’ I say loosely because I’m not sure what that really looks like for us yet. But back to creating the wonder and courageous purpose, surely it’s doable, maybe just with different goal posts. Obviously there is the less horizons thing (one does give less shits about things when feeling the freedom of the wild) and there is so much more of the bullshit (the privileged complaining, the competitive bossy how to be and how it is kind of stuff). Unlike the camino you can’t just walk to the next city every day to give yourself the space! Do you know what I mean about the bullshit though? The seemingly endless diatribe of small stuff and small talk. Sure, we can escape some of it selectively but it’s impossible to block it all. There are those accounts that are tricky to unfollow and there are the realities that we need to face like our work places and schools etc. I am shifting my eyes and ears towards noticing and hearing with even more filters than normal in an attempt to be more focussed and less in need of de-fragging from the dreaded you know what. That bullshit! Ps I am more than capable of talking my own bullshit to myself and trust me that is under the microscope too, even more so. And of course what I call bullshit may be different to what you call BS. If I’ve become BS to you please unfollow, I respect BS calling. We all need to call what we don’t need.

I’m comfortable out of the spotlight, hiding behind the pole at school pick up. Please don’t invite me to everything and I’m fine not knowing the ins and outs of things, happier that way, it’s easier. What? You liked, read my words? I might just seize up and run. I need a new blog please, people I know are following along. Yes I want to live a full life and trust me I feel I do, but I want to do it in a small way. Well at least I thought I did. And then you see I walked the camino with the knowledge that I had to challenge myself. I had to challenge the lack of commitment, trust and discipline that I give to myself and my capabilities. Sure, I am confident in a lot of things, opinionated about many other things and great at making new things happen BUT eventually I always run. Maybe out of fear. I’m not sure why yet but I do know I need to shift my goalposts to adjust what quiet, small, confidence and fear are and how they fit in my life.

Gosh how I hated the cliché on the camino that your ‘camino begins when it ends’. Typical of my rebel heart. I will not do or be like everyone else. Kill me first. I’m on the camino now … I was on it before I left. Heaven forbid I might actually need to stop being scared of myself, or, worse still be wrong, or oh man – exactly like everyone else and it just may start when it ends. On day two along the camino in a conversation with Mike from the UK we were talking about what we’d thought about that day while we were walking – they were the same things (our profound thoughts and our wonderings were essentially the very same). Most of us think and worry about the same things. Of course we act on and express those thoughts differently but we are all feeling our way through life and we are not alone in that.

What brought this on? Lots of things and nothing, it just is. At the heart of it – I have changed since walking the camino. So basically I have no choice. I’m at the bloody beginning again, facing new questions. This time I don’t want to run, I’m stronger. We always get stronger after a climb into our weaknesses don’t we. I want to build on this, to continue creating without the fear or expectation. Time to dip my toes in deeper and step into the vulnerability I am feeling, however that looks.

I may have eaten too many mm’s and stayed up far too last night (and the night before) but I’m not going to give up on forward motion today because I did that (stepped a few steps back). No, I am writing this because discipline with writing helps me to step forward and it only happens if I lift my feet and move towards writing. My friend Lix tells me my writing is my poetry. After hitting publish I will go for a walk in the woods because walking soothes my mind when it’s in dreaming, examining or planning mode (I’m in all three right now – jackpot). Experience has taught me that’s where most of my answers are … out there wandering in solitude where the birds sing and the trees rustle.

The beginning is the most important part of the work. ~ Plato.

Should I give you another camino’ism? When you’re busy walking, creating or out there contributing with the intention of giving and sharing you’re too busy to care what people think of what you’ve published or the life you are choosing. There is only time to focus on the connection that comes as a response to being in your own flow. The joy comes from the writing and publishing … in doing the work (creating).

There are many things I wanted to write about today: the missing update from my time in Finisterra where I hit my greatest challenge … that first moment where I sat still again and had to consider my next move. Would I give in to idleness or step up? Idleness, where we sit or stand consuming bullshit from others, pushing into what doesn’t feel right, or, in the stories we create in our own minds or sometimes simply by allowing ourselves to be consumed by unfulfilling tasks is the great enemy to living a creative and meaningful life. Not that I know that for sure but today that is what’s in my mind, maybe sometimes it’s in yours?

It was this thought, this lesson, the wisdom that I’ve gleaned from Mike and a host of you who read my words and write to me that have propelled me towards facing one of my personal challenges. This new beginning where I need to practice a commitment towards self discipline and accountability to myself as I continue to step beyond my comfort zone – this time not to run. So I guess I owe you a thank you, thank you ;).