Long waited blog...

I have decided to stop the blog during the Camino due to my thoughts becoming more and more personal. I guess after 2 weeks in you truely come to terms with some of your most inner thoughts you have not ventured into in years. I am now back in Virginia and pondering what the next day holds for me. I have decided to change this blog into people I've encountered during my walk. I have found out that this Camino could not have been done without the wonderful people I've become close with each step of this journey. I will start this new project with my last 3 days on the Camino then start back over by telling everyone the story of each person I've met from St. Jean Pied De Port to Finisterre.

Arriving at Santiago.

I have decided a day before I arrived at Santiago to walk 35 km to Monte de Gozo, which lies about 4 km prior to Santiago. This would give me a chance to walk into Santiago and on to Finisterre the following day.

After our dinner at Monte De Gozo, I was quite excited to head over to Santiago. I ended up walking by the road and over this bridge/overpass then on to the city. I had no idea that Santiago was a city. I was quite dissapointed by the city like atmosphere, construction, and the rain that would not stop. I believe I walked about 4 km's to get to the Cathedral. I was utterly dissapointed. I had hoped for more emotion or some sort of happiness or something...to tell you the truth I had no idea what I wanted. I remember fanticising about trumpets lined up playing this glorious marching theme while angels come down from the heavens to spread confetti over the blue skies...haha ok that's a bit of a stretch, but I was expecting to feel some sort of happiness walking into Santiago since I looked forward to this place since St. Jean pied de Port. Wait check that, since 3 years ago sitting in my office surfing and researching the Camino. It is called Camino de SANTIAGO...well anyways...enough complaining about Santiago.
I just grabbed my Compostella at the office then proceeded to head to Negrreira. I wanted to just get to Finisterra. 3 more days till I get there. I had aquired a map from the compostella office and the lady at the desk showed me where I needed to exit to head over to the path to the next hostel in Negreira, so I headed out of Santiago...so I thought. No matter which direction I headed I ended up back at the Cathedral at Santiago. I went north and end up at the south side of the cathedral...I go south and end up at the side of the cathedral...I go to the west and end up in the front of the cathedreal...I was starting to get pretty upset after walking for 3 hours and ending up at the same spot where I started. 3 hours!!! ughhghgh!!! I ended up just completely getting lost on some road by a hospital just right outside of town. I was completely insanely angry at this point, I threw my bag pack on the ground, kicked it down a hill, then looked up to the sky and scremed " F U Santiago!!!! efffffff YOUUUU!!!!!". Then I realised how much of a fool I am for screaming in the middle of the road like a bloody lunatic so I went and picked up my bag and just sat down...I prayed "god get me out of this situation and I promise to come back to santiago and go to the pilgrams mass..." I guess sitting and praying calmed my nerves a bit. I felt a little better and more focused to get out of Santiago and on to Negreira. I walked towards a street ahead and in the corner of the street I saw an old lady...first person I saw right after I had calmed down so I went up to her and asked her for directions.

"donde esta el camino de Finisterra?"
nothing....hmmmm

She just stared at me for a bit with a confused look then grabs my hand walks over to the corner of the street and just sits down, still holding my hand. I was kinda freaked out. I requested for assistance once more with panic in my voice this time.

"senora...Por favor...Donde esta el camino para Finisterra...ya know...the Camino?? para Pilgrams?"

nothing...she just held my hand and smiled...was she crazy?? I didn't feel like wasting anymore time...I was so exhusted from walking in circles for last 3 hours. She pulled my hand and just sat there...and this went on for one hour. I was officially freaked out at this situation but for some reason I had no energy to just let go of her hand. I was on the verge of just giving up and and something about a motherly hand holding mine just felt secure. So I sat there...with a strange Senora from Santiago, pondering how I am going to spend my next day looking for a bus to Finisterra.

About another 10 minutes pass by...a bus pulls up...she draggs me onto the bus...pays for my fare...gets me to sit down as she sat next to me...20 minutes goes by...bus stops...she pulls me out of the bus grabs my belongings then points to the street sign across the road that reads...

NEGREIRA!

Amazing.

I have 2 more days until Finisterra!

Burgos, Spain

Finally internet at a hostel. I decided to stay at remote places and check out the donativo experience on the Camino. I stayed at a church in Granon and my first thought was that it was going to be a painful experience. Sleeping on the floor with just mats in an old church that was a little eerie for my taste. I was completely wrong of course. It was the best experience on the camino so far. I highly recommend any donativo experience. Donativo albergue´s usually eat dinner together with all the pilgrams. We made food for the next evening for the next day pilgrams as we prepared the food from what the previous pilgrams had left us. After dinner we are treated with one of the staff singing a song in the church while we prayed and shared our thoughts during a passing the candle ceromony. It was quite emotional at one point when a German pilgram explained that one of his friend had passed away that evening and he had just received the news a few hours before dinner. Death is always tough...but I´m sure he´s now one of his angels watching over him during his walk.

Luckily I have yet to get lost on the camino. Whenever I feel like I can´t find the markings on the road I either run into some random locals that point the directions to the right path.

I have tons more that I have written in my journal that I will share with everyone but I will stop here since all the one euro per 20 min on the internet are adding up. As soon as I get to a PC with an USB port I will post all the beautiful sights from this journey.

You do not find the path...the path finds you...the path can not be defined as it defines you.

Day of St. Michael

Oliver the German (that´s my name for him) told me a few days ago that he will walk each day for someone in need or someone close to him in his life. A couple days ago he told me he is walking for his brother Michael when we left to go to Estella...24 km for the day. Right before we got to Estella, Oliver stopped in his path and told me ´look...that old Catheral is named San Miguel, Spanish for St. Michael, must be a sight...I will take pictures and meet you in Estella!´

I wanted to give him some privacy so I trekked forward to our next stop. When I arrived at Estella, I decided to wait for him at the entrance. About 10 minutes later I saw Oliver in the distance with a glowing smile. Upon arrival he said ´you´re not going to believe this, when I got to the church, I decided to phone my brother Michael and told him that I was walking for him and I am standing in front of the church named San Miguel´ he continued ´my brother couldn´t believe it and told me that this is Day of St. Michael´

wow...coincedence?? I am a believer in the special way of St. James...things just don´t happen this way anywhere else in the world. I think Oliver also became a believer...

We checked into the hostel that evening and made a toast to his brother Michael...with La Cervace de San Miguel...fitting

Buen Camino!

Quick Pamplona thoughts...

First big city of the Camino.

Relatively large city compared to the villages I stayed in the last two days.

This video shows the passion of soccer fans in Spain...and they were the visiting team´s fans!

US vs. Pamplona health system

I didn´t get to post my thoughts from yeterday since I was pretty spent from celebrating my bday with some fellow pilgrams. Everyone has been quite wonderful here.

I am now in Puenta La Reina...beautiful city...my eyes are being pretty spoiled here with awesome scenery.

I want to go over something I went through yesterday. We have 4 of us that have been sticking together during this walk. Sung Yong is a pilgram from Korea. During his walk from Roncevalles, he hurt his knee pretty bad and comtemplated continuing the walk. Oliver (German) and I decided we needed to go with him to the hospital in Pamplona. We didn´t want him to stress his knee any further fearing ligament damage. We took a cab to Pamplona hospital yesterday morning. We were greeted by the nurses at the reception desk at the emergency room. Since he only spoke korean and Oliver spoke Spanish, we decided to translate for him. The nurse would speak to Oliver in Spanish, he would turn to me and translate to English, I then turned to Sung Yong and translated to him in Korean...it was a 3 way translation but somehow we got through it. Sung Yong took an x-ray then a doctor consulted him. He did not have a clear ligament damage but he needed to rest his legs for couple days. Then came the scary part...Billing! We were advised to go check out with the nurse who admitted Sung Yong. We got his prescription and waited for the bill...

waited...waited...

The nurse looked at us funny, then told us we can go...I asked her to provide us with a reciept so we can pay and head our way...she looked at us funny again...I was confused at her gesture...

´Dinero??´ I asked...

This is the crazy part...emergency room, x-ray, and doctor consultant...it costed Sung Yong all of zero dollars! In case you missed it let me put it in plain english text...

HE DIDN´T PAY A DAMNNNNN THING!!!

I am angry...The United States of America...Leading nation and an example in the world...a free nation of patriotism and democracy...and we don´t have a health care more like Pamplona, Spain???? Really????

C´mon Obama...we can change this...I believe...YES WE CAN!!

Birthday in Spain...

Roncevalle to Zubiri 22 km.

The walk today compared to yesterday was a breeze. I woke up this morning by the sound of pilgrams zipping up their backpacks. I am using the backpack zipping noise as an alam clock.

´zip zip´ sounds a lot better than my beeping alarm clock...

Met a great bunk mate named Oliver last night before I fell asleep. He´s a german through and through...but he speaks nearly fluent English and I welcome anyone with my native tongue...even if it´s as a second language. We decided to wake up at the same time and head for Zubiri together. BTW the http://www.caminoguide.net/ guide is a lifesaver. Anyone walking the camino should print one out for whichever camino you choose.

Walking towards Zubiri you pass couple of small towns. I wish I can load the pics but unfortunately there is no USB outlet...perhaps down in Pamplona. The small towns have a WW2 feel and I felt like I was walking through ´Saving Private Ryan´ Beautiful buildings with reddish roofs and red flower pots highlighting each windows...I can´t describe in words...but I feel truly knee deep in history here. I have couple minutes until my internet will shut down on me...1 euro per 20 min. I guess that´s the normal price in all Albergues. I will rest my feet and walk to Pamplona tomorrow...until then....Ciao!

BTW...
Everyone here has been wonderful to me today. I told one of my walking buddy that I turned 32 today. He told couple more walkers and they baught me couple beers at the bar in Zubiri.

Great great company...which makes me forget about all the pain on my feet!

Battling the sheeps...

6:00 AM

I could not sleep last night. Full out surround sound 5.1 of snoring fest...and I had ear plugs in! There was an Irish man that slept across from me on the top bunk who couldn´t take it anymore and just left the room. I had an extra set of ear plugs to offer him but he didn´t come back. I found out in the morning that he just slept in the kitchen...haha

Everyone was in good spirits at 6 am. Me and a british man named Malcom that I met in St. Jean decided to head out together. We were on the road by 7 AM. This is a magical place...crossed the bridge and off to Orisson 8 km away.

The climb up to Orisson was steep...Malcom decided to go at a slower pace so I just pushed ahead. When I got to Orisson there was a tall skinny man at the counter greeting the pilgrams and offering coffee.

¨Un cafe y un chorizo¨

I sat at the bench eating an apple and waiting for Malcom. It was the greatest appl I´ve ever eaten in my life! 2 hour up a steep climb sure makes anything taste good. Malcom strutted along and we decide to walk the path together once again...and once again I had to push forward as he had to rest...

About half an hour into the walk my feet begin to communicate with my brain...

"what da hell are you doing?????"

"this is a wonderful idea...stop complaining and walk another mile" My brain shouts in a bit of snooty tone.

Another half an hour up a 45 degree angled pavement...

Now my brain is speaking on behalf of my feet.

"what da hell are we doing??"

This conversation went on for the next 10 kilometers.

I have to say...the mountain is beautiful...only I wanted to punch him in the face for having such steep hills to climb...

Then came the sheeps....

"bahhhhhhhh" one warned me while she crossed the pavement.

I am furious at this bizare gesture...

"bahhhhhhh sukkka" I snare.

This bahhhing went on for good 2 minutes.

I have lost my mind...I am speaking sheep!

I am now in Roncevalle in a hostel. I have 2 min before this internet shuts down so I will post more tomorrow with pictures as well. For now...I´m going to sleep...hopefully in peace counting sheep.

Do not under estimate the power of a prayer....

Right before I finally fell asleep last night I prayed for guidence and protection. (btw...the bug in my bed was a spanish mosquito...and I splatter that sucker on the wall...consider it my gift to the hostel in Bilbao!)

I don't want to get too spiritual but miracles happened to me today...and I can't point my finger to coincedence.

I fell asleep after I plastered the mosquito...around 3 am. I woke up late this morning...shocker.
I only had 30 min to get ready and run to the bus terminal. (15 min walking)

Some how I made it to the station with about 5 min before the bus departed. I went to the terminal 24 as it stated on my bus ticket. No bus...why why why?? Again, I pulled my spanish dictionary out from my brain...

"donde esta aqui??" pointing to the tkt. This small spanish student recongnized my fluent spainsh tongue...

"I speak english...I have family in Chicago." How do I keep running into people that speak english?? Weird...

He looked at my ticket...looked at me...then looked at his watch...then his eyes suddenly got huge.

"other side of the bus ter..." My legs didn't even wait for him to finish the sentence...

panic...panic...sprinting...huffin...panic...ahhhhhhhh the bus...wait...the doors closed...holy #$%@ he's pulling away!!

I practically threw myself in front of the bus...no chance I'm missing my Camino...I was determined as ever...the bus driver luckily saw the panic on my face and slam on the breaks...either that or he was facinated by seeing a chino with a huge back pack jumping in front of the bus...either way it worked! One point for me!

As I got on the bus I noticed the bus was packed...no seat left...I went to the furtest point in the back of the bus...there were five seats...four were taken...thank the lord...answering my prayers again...He never fails me.

The teenage spanish girl gave me a face...she did not want to move her bag...and gave me a look...then words came out of her mouth...

"jeeeber...jaaaaaber...blahhh"

I had no idea what she was saying...but my spanish translator in my brain told me...

"go F*ck yourself" point taken.

panic...bus moving...panic...eyes scanning for a free seat...bus moving...paniccccccc!

There it was...my eyes focused on a front seat right behind the driver...empty...and has my name all over it...another point for me! whoohooo!

by the time I made my way up to the bus, I was gassed...lack of sleep...running a 40 yard dash in less than 2.2 seconds...and running up and down the bus...needless to say I was sweating profusely.

Seating next to me was a small spanish chica...probably young...probably can't speak a lick of english...and probably hated Americans.

The bus trip to Bayonne was actually pretty delightful...I must say Spain is a quite colorful and vibrant...it's definitely esthatically pleasing to the virgin eyes.

Which brings me to my next episode...
I fell asleep looking out the window...maybe the colors were too much for me to bear...but it's probably lack of sleep...

I vaguely hear the bus stop...
I wake up in panic...(it's the theme of today)

"is it my stop?? are we in bayonne??" I was thinking out loud...everyone on the bus just stared at me...they were probably saying to themselves "crazy f*cking Chino!

To my utter surprise the girl next to me waves her pointer figer east to west...

"no no no...no bayonne...bayonne es last stop...30 more min to go" shocker...this is the reason why I constantly have to remind myself that I'm the guest in their country...I def. think like a selfish pompus ass American.

We arrive in Bayonne...beautiful french town...it's beachy...but pacific beachy way...sort of like San Diego cliff drops to the water type of way...beautiful.

We both get off the bus and I just had to thank her for keeping me straight...

"I want to thank you for that...I would have gotten off the bus in panic and got lost" I say sheepishly.

"no no...denada..." We part ways...I go to the tourist office and ask for directions to the train station. "across the bridge and to the left" the tourist office says in her french accent.

I start my way but I can't see the bridge...I am now sitting at a traffic light looking through the city like I have x ray vision...x ray vision has failed me once again...I am lost...once again...then...there she is again...across the traffic light...this time with my tails tucked between my legs I ask "are you going to the train station??"

"si...over there" Thank you lord...working magic once more on the way to the Camino.

I find out that her name is Kristina and that she's actually a student heading to Paris working on her doctorate degree...we grabbed coffee chatted a bit...and we went our separate ways...

Do not under estimate the power of a prayer...Game...Set...Match...for God!

Bilbao, Espana

It´s almost 2 AM and I can´t seem to fall asleep today. I tried everything. Just tossing and turning on the bed...I think there are bugs that are eating me alive...keep scratching bug bites...weird.

I flew out of Koln this morning at 11 and flew into a quick transfer airport in Palma Mallorca. Looked like an island and full of resorts. Looking down from the plane right before landing, I saw some beautiful beaches, yachts, and hotels...there were about 6 obnoxious German ladies that were so excited about their trip that they bothered everyone on the plane with their German laughter...everything sounds like Shaizzz sound to me. Hard to explain in words...

Arrived in Bilbao at 5 PM...Taxi ride was 27 euros...private hostel single room was 21.50 euros...I checked in...laid all my belongings out...then in pure boredom, I decided to head into town...got my nerves to ask a big nice looking fellow for directions in my broken spanish...

"Donde esta el terminal de bus??"

3 years of spanish...and that´s all I can come up with...Mrs. Baxter from woodson will be mighty proud of me...hahaha

The young fellow turned around and said in english "I think the bus station is right around the corner"

Relief...english...wow...Godsend in the land of Espana!

Turns out he is kind of in the same boat as me. I come to learn that he is from Netherlands taking a long hiatus from his work...10 weeks he tells me...and I find his name just as comforting as if I was in the US. Ruben.



"would you like some company to go into the city central??"

We both grab the bus and head into old town Bilbao. We took some pics...we chatted...spoke of how beautiful everything is here...colorful buildings...etc...

"wanna grab a beer??"

Music to my ears...the universal friendship juice...

I don´t know if this is the case in all of spain...but Tapas bars are all served with beer...cold cervesas...salmon, cuddlefish, frenchbread, exotic feel...I had it all today...

Felt like an episode in travel network...
It was a great day...maybe that´s why I´m laying in my bed tossing and turning...I have no idea what´s in store for me tomorrow...or the next day...

The day of Nutella...

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

-T.S. Eliot

Okay...I have now spent two days in Koln...It is now 7 AM again...

My uncle Geory got us breakfast this morning...bread...coffee...cheese...and some coldcuts that I have never tasted before...it was prob one of the best bread and cheese I've tasted in my life...during our breakfast he told me about his morning breakfast trip to the grocery store...

"there must have been a special today...so many women there...and each of them had six huge Nutella's...and that's all they were buying...weird...It's the day of NUTELLA!!!!"

It is now hitting me that I'm about 28 hours away from my first step to the reason why I have sacrificed everything to be here.

I weighed my pack this morning and it came in at 10 kg's. Less than 10% of my body weight so I think I'm all set...3 years of planning...7 hours of flight...3 meals...and 4 gigs of music later...I am now ready to embark on my journey.

Koln

Cologne, Germany
06:30 Local time

I finally feel like a human being again. I have never experienced such jetlag in my life. It is now about half an hour until full sunrise here. My aunt and uncle have been nothing but wonderful. It has been about 2 years since our last meeting. I have always fantasized about their lives here in foreign land since I was a young lad. I remember all those times both would visit us in America…it was always around my grandmothers birthday. Before I go further into their lives, I need to explain a couple things.

Yong….first name of all of my aunts and uncles…Let’s see, my father’s only younger sibling…she happens to be the youngest Lee in the family. My earliest memory of her is a little vague. I just recall after meeting her, there was no doubt in my mind that she’s a strain of our family blood line. She looked almost identical to my father. Her smile, her mannerisms, and her sense of Lee humor…it was all there…just 6 years younger, more vibrant, and full of energy…but something was always different about her. I think it has to do with the fact that she decided to move to Germany at a tender age of twenty one to study abroad…she was always different to me…in a cool euro 1970’s hippie love child kind of way.

Being the youngest of 6 must have been tough on her…all the focus has been with the male siblings in her family anyways…but times in Korea were different then. I’m only assuming this but I think since my father and her are the two bottom feeders of the family, I would like to think they have a special bond together. It’s eerie to me how similar they are to each other. Perhaps this is the reason for her being such a great aunt to a nephew of her immediate brother…either way…I couldn’t go on this journey without her and I am eternally grateful that she is here…

93 and full of life...

oh look at me in my fancy car
and my bank account...
oh, how I wish I can take it all down
into my grave, God knows I saved and saved
Man, take a look again...take a look again
things you have collected, well in the end piles up
to one big nothing, one big nothing at all

Seek up by Dave Matthews

It's been 3 weeks since my last day at work...I have been busy doing research on my trip to Europe, enjoying time with friends and family, and admiring the summer heat changing it's course to a fall breeze. Yes, I have been watching each day go by with great appreciation of what great gift life is offering me every minute of last 3 weeks. Which makes me want to tell all of you about my grandmother of 93...still holding strong...but definitely in her winter years of her life.

Bok Soon...was her given name by her parents. She was born in Korea of course...she is a tiny woman...standing 5 flat on her best day. Don't let her size fool anyone...she is one hellacious...stubborn...yet most giving and thoughtful person I have ever known.

For the last 2 weeks of my unemployment, I have been instructed by my parents to escort my grandmother to see her doctor every Wednesday for the next 3 weeks. She is now old and frail as you can imagine. Once so strong...when I was young and mischievous, her stinging hand was the first across my backside with such force that even Muhammad Ali would have approved such brutal display of spankings. I used to come home to see her shoes in front of our home...and knew...I had to behave or I won't be sleeping on my backside for next couple nights. It's needless to say, she had a big hand in my childhood...no pun intended.

After her doctors appointment, she had requested for me accompany her in picking up several grocery items for her home. List was small, she wanted a 24 pack of water and a bag of rice. I had several conversations with her about life in general...she wasn't giving out any advice in how I should live out my life...but she listened to me...she took everything in...and she told me she is happy for everything that has lead me to being me. It was an signed and sealed approval from a woman that always always always disagreed with my behavior as a child. Granted, I was coming home after fighting kids in school...stealing candy from a store...coming home after curfew...various child like behavior I have presented to her during my adolescence. Her response, was the first time as long as I can remember, she looked at me in the eyes and was sincerely proud of my achievements as a human being. For a split moment, I held my head up high and proud...and for a brief moment...it was moment of profound happiness.

I walked her up to her apartment on the 12th floor of assisted living for elders. She now lives alone in her 600 SF apartment. She had her Animal Planet channel blasting as usual, since her hearing has gone wary. Before I had a chance to tell her my good byes, she sat me down in her 2 x 4 dinner table and advised me that I can not exit her home until lunch was served and until I had finished the last grain of rice on my plate.

Lunch was simple...Rice, Kim Chee, Fish...
It's always fish...I never figured out why...fish has been seasoned with salt...and probably has been sitting in her fridge for months...and it tasted like it too...
I grinned as I ate though. It was least I can do...and that's when it dawned on me...

She was married at a young age...it was common in Korea to be married by her teens in the 1920's...she had raised 6 healthy children...through...now think about this....Japanese occupation of Korea, the first great war, and the second great war in the pacific which directly resulted in General MacArthur's now famous In Chon landing. She fled the communist red army by foot with her children...still pregnant with my unborn father in her belly. This was survival...there was no formula for the baby...she didn't get a ticket for not having her kids in her car seat...there was no baby carriage...and god forbid she did not have a fancy crib made by Ethan Allen...this was survival...

Lunch with my grandmother was in silence...I just admired her as she prepped the stale fish... salty kimchee...she had taken care of my aunts, my uncles, and my father for years...and for the last 10 years or so...she was just taking care of her self...I think a little piece of her died the day she found out everyone has grown up...and they are now built to take care of themselves. After feeding her children...her grand children...for decades...she has found loneliness...in her last years... taking care of one person she has not looked after....herself.

I can see it in her eyes...she was genuinely in peace...she gloated during lunch...there were no words spoken...but the meal provided our conversation. Perhaps one last time, she had found peace...in giving....

2 weeks notice...

I have officially moved closer to walking the path of El Camino de Santiago today. On 7/27/2009...1 PM Eastern...walked over to my managers desk and dropped off a signed resignation letter, informing the management of leaving in two weeks. I guess I was expecting some sort of reaction, but to my benefit, there wasn't a long conversation nor were there a simple "good luck". Shocker...

Step 1. Two weeks notice...crossed out...

Next up:

Step 2. Purchase a plane ticket to Cologne, Germany.

El Camino de Santiago

Planning to put a hold on my career briefly to embark in this adventure through Spain...There are few loose ends I need to tie up prior to my walk...first things first...a resignation letter on Monday...two weeks from unemployment...or in my case...FREEDOM!!

Here is wikipedia definition of El Camino de Santiago:

The Way of St. James or St. James' Way (Galician: O camiño de Santiago, Spanish: El Camino de Santiago, French: Chemin de St-Jacques, German: Jakobsweg) is the pilgrimage to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition has it that the remains of the apostle Saint James are buried.

I will be blogging my journey...my pilgrimage...my way of St. James...

Tentative date of departure: 9/9/2009