this
i like doorways and windows because I can look out and beyond-.From my home and from where I walk in other places ,other countries there are views and more views all framed by simple structures and all costing little :
Part of journal -lamenting renovations “Oh the thinks you can think ! The permutations of a simple change to space .Thats just part of it ,there are also thoughts about making the sliding door a larger door that really reaches outside -more cost ,would we use the verandah more than we do now ,which is minimal really as we rarely sit and relax anywhere let alone looking at the world go by on our road ,and what about the dog ?? What about the verandah as it has no barrier on the edge and children can fall off and the height makes it quite hazardous to step up or down ,misjudging the height means one can sustain a nasty twisted ankle .Now we”re getting to another set of possibilities ,the olive trees on the verandah which are too big for the pots ,the herbs that are just surviving with irregular watering ,and the garden that needs cutting back and replanting ,trees to be revived .
And the frontage of the house which is about to be painted ,but some of the under roof needs replacing first ……….”
Simply light and fluidity
Looking through and down the corridor
Whats outside ?Looking through newly painted hallwayNot too sure -I think the window glass has been cut outWindow sill portrait
No its not preciosa,or outstandingly beautiful today .I am always suspicious of the word anyway as it usually means not just outstanding beauty ,but difficult walking through isolated terrain ,contradictory or non existent flechas (arrows ) and usually inclement weather.But thats me just wanting a challenge and then moaning about it .
Walking to Mataelpino
Second day on the Madrid :from Colemar to Mataelpino.Rain ,snow ,hurtling winds from those mountains .Was glad of all my thermals ,rain pants and gloves .At times hard gusts of wind and sleet against my face so that I couldn’t move a muscle.Fingers numb but body warm enough .Had to focus on each step ,looking out for arrows that are easy to miss in this weather ,so no time for anxieties or indecisiveness .All that matters is keeping to the path and reaching a destination Thankful for my daughter Nardwyn’s company ,she remained cheerful as we sheltered every now and then behind the rocks that jutted out along the side of the winding path. Reached Mataelpino very early after 9 km .We had to stay there as it was another 18 km to the next stop ,and the weather was increasingly wild .Ha -the hostel was locked and the man we phoned said he’d be a couple of hours .So we dragged frozen legs up another hill and around a corner and found the bar .
Nardwyn thinking in the warm bar in Mataelpino .Wheres her book ?
Books or not ?
This series of posts though is not just an account of each step of our walk and my winges ,or a reflection on the nuances of the Spanish language This entry is about what walking does for me : walking clears my head so that I have space to reflect ,and to dream.There are no pressing engagements and obligations ,phone calls and texts pinging ,jobs to start ,places to reach ,routines,people to respond to .Now there is not even a book .
On the second day of this walk I ditched my only book because it was too heavy ,and Nardwyn did the same .I have to admit we regretted it later when we reached Mataelpino early in the day ,and had to stay in bed wrapped in blankets or in the bar in the smoke for the rest of the day .Another constraint about walking is the amount of liquor that can be consumed ,especially in the middle of the day .It was siesta time and we were the sole occupiers of the bar.We could read the local Spanish paper ( in this case full of futbal),converse with each other -and eventually there was no alternative but to sit with our own thoughts .In my case there was sometimes an overwhelming blankness ,sometimes a sadness ,occasionally thoughts that I had told myself I had left far behind.Often a questioning of what my life is about ,what I’m about ,regrets about people ,and lack of loving ,the ontological insecurities of everyday life .Books can block or deflect this stream of consciousness .
When I’m walking again the next day the spaces in my head are wider, a lot of the extraneous stuff cleared out .So there is freedom to be joyful and celebrate being alive and part of this beautiful world
Food
How important is it to eat when its 3 degrees outside and snowing and still 2 km to the nearest food place (bar) ,but its Sunday and the towns are small and there is not much choice .Bang goes my vegetarian,organic diet .Will eat whatever presents ,maybe not red meat ,but anything else
At hostal at Cercedilla ,further along from Mataelpino ,for example there is a choice :chocolates and potato chips ,until tomorrow morning breakfast ,or walking back down the hill we have just staggered up in the increasing rain and sleet ,to the only place that is open now ,the bar at the railway station .Inside the bare place the rooms are warm and beds clean ,but no food .We have run out of our own supplies .How hungry am I??
Obviously hungry enough to brave the dark cold night .Off we went down the hill to the only other place open tonight
Our room at the youth Hostel -cold outside ,warm but a different cold inside
Back up that hill after food and a few vinos -its fun now in the dark and cold Just as well we made the trip as in the morning there is an unappetising breakfast served in a cold canteen ,cardboard cereal of some kind ,dull bread ,and a most unspanish like coffee tasting like dishwater Standard fare in the Albergues del Juveniles ,Spanish youth hostels ,which are clean and well run .We made a poor choice could have paid more and gone to the private hostal near the station .And not had to do the 2 km walk twice up the steep hill at the end of a full days walking
Its important to carry enough food ,for times like this .But there is always the balance with weight .Always water ,but sometimes have been caught out on this trip with no food Later on in a little place called Ane there was nothing open at all ,not even a shop in the town ,or remains of a settlement really.See my entry in diary :
“We went through one tiny collection of houses ,most falling apart, and what must have been a thriving and beautiful church rising out of the circle of abandoned homes .The usual cats prowling around ,a couple of dogs .Noone at all around ,unusual .Even here in Ane ,also a tiny place ,there are a few old men walking in the afternoon ,a large flock of sheep near the furthest inhabited house/farm and one child playing by the very new swing in the playground with his grandparents .”
Approaching Ane ,the sun came out
Cats coming from everywhere -and a wintery sun is out
.A long walk ,a hard day ,one of us ill and only 2 teabags and panadol in the first aid kit .A lovely old man eventually found the keys and opened up the hostal. There were lots of blankets to throw on a fairly clean beds in a smaller room ,and a kettle to boil .Not the season for walking this route ,which is a fairly solitary one anyway ,
Ane Hostal ,thank you for the bed and warm blankets ,and thank you lovely old man for finding the keys .Everything is fine this morning ,and the sun is out .Lets go caminoing on
On the other hand ,having to go out for food often leads to some interesting evenings in small villages ,the Spanish bars are social centres and people love to talk .The food is usually great ,washed down with the local vino .Some great meals .One memorable meal in a village further on from Ane was the pigs trotters.I hasten to add it was eaten with relish by my food adventurer English cousin ,and I looked away and ate my calamares and salad.This was in Nave de Ascunsion ,
On the second night in that same bar next to the bus station ,the barman handed us a bottle of the local wine as we left .Clare carried that bottle in her pack for 2 days .
.
This wine was worth waiting to drink .Thanks Clare for the carrying and gratias Señor barman in Nave for your friendliness and sense of humour
The last published post with the wonderful selfie complete with walking gear,seems a world away.It seemed many worlds away this morning ,my first day back and my first run along that same path I walked about a month ago.
I have decided to write from the prewalk to the post walk ,and then thread my writing back to walking the Madrid Camino.There are so many great bioggs about the many Spanish caminos ,so I am going to focus on particular events, places ,spaces ,experiences during my last walk along the Camino de Madrid with my daughter
To be honest these thoughts are thoughts about thoughts ,written a few weeks after that first home run post Spain and added to as the weeks go by .I want to capture the initial feelings of return ,or at least some of them .I also want to use intentness of those who go for long walks – really seeing surroundings .
Here I am walk/running along the cliff.River on my left, houses on the left, all with views of the water .Sun shining.Blue sky.
Yet I feel a heaviness that is not just to do with the fact that I haven’t run for a while .I feel like I am moving through a painting that is almost perfect ,with the sky ,the river ,the occasional boats ,and the grand houses on my right Its the silence.The silence and the absence of people .Yes they walk by with dogs or on bikes or walking.Most nod or say Hello .But there is still a silence .Houses are boarded by fences or hedges, well tended lawns ,roses fronting the path .But there are no people there ,and there is no-one visible in the homes.All is clean and contained .
Written April and May 2018
PS ROCKY BAY is an important part of the coastline stretching along the Swan River .It is situated in North Fremantle ,Western Australia .The home of the Waugul serpent and a favourite swimming place for locals .Many a young person has jumped off the high limestone cliff on the top of the bay into the clear waters .From a place suiy( suicide) ,but that s another story
I’m trying to repost an edited version of El Pueblo sin Bar , written after one of those not so good days of walking : hot, water running out, legs aching and hopes dashed each time one passes another small place with no coffee . There’s the anticipation and lifting of spirits , and the fall is harder each time . Such a small thing . But small things assume big proportions on a long walking day ,long walking weeks .
Me -cold and wearing all the warm things i had .The start of the path from Colemar
At the beginning from colemnar,and the path is uncertain ,just a track and the arrows on the rocks at ground level .brambles,stones and mud underfoot .The clouds are coming closer
Still beautiful ,and desolate .Are we walking towards colder weather ?
And still walking ,still cold ,but getting there we hope
Sambasue21 
