the Camino tests

yep, this old granny saw me coming. 40 euros to stay the night in a run down decayed old hotel perched on top of a hill. it took me half an hour to climb up there my feet were aching so much. i paid up begrudgingly and she took the cash rather too quickly it seemed to me. still, i needed a bed and was quite relieved to just shower, shave and relax. the problem came when thinking about what to eat as it meant staggering back down the hill again. walking the Camino is fine apart from sightseeing in the evenings - by the time you've arrived at your destination your feet ache so much you can't be bothered to walk anywhere. in fact you can't walk anywhere - its too painful. a rather undignified limp is about all you can manage. so limp i did, down to the local tavern where i was served the best white wine i've had in a long time matched with the worst pasta i think i've ever had. imagine drain water boiled down to its essence, add some old veggies (mainly dried peas) and then thrown some penne in the mix. that was about it. i was so hungry that i just threw it in my mouth and swallowed. and then had more wine. the next day i was up early to get my 'free' brekkie from granny which consisted of stale bread and nutella. the coffee was good though. i left late - about 8am - and headed off out of Chantillon. the VF route followed the dreaded SS26 and actually became the SS26 for most of the day. i'm not easily frightened but i can't say i felt safe at any point of the day. i had to hike down a busy main road that curved and wound its way along the side of a mountain as it descended. there was no path. i had to walk within the space of the white line at the side of the road and the road barrier itself. that measured about a foot wide. i had cars, trucks and buses whizzing up behind and past me at quite considerable speeds. in the end i had to cross over and walk facing the oncoming traffic. i thought that if i was going to get killed then i may as well look whoever killed me in the eye. and i'm not joking. i walked that road hugging the mountain side, trying to peer round when there was a bend, stopping and waiting for big trucks to pass, speeding up when i could. luckily i'd lived and worked in India for 2 years so i was used to some pretty hairy traffic situations but this really tested me. i was lucky i wasn't hit - its as simple as that. hiking the SS26 was not pleasurable at all and yet for the past 2 days i've spent an inordinate amount of time on it. the VF doesn't seem to deviate into the countryside. i'm hopeful this will improve as i'm sick of exhaust fumes and just want to get back to walking country paths - which i did a bit of today. one problem is the fact that my guide book and the signs for the VF seem to differ and i have to guess which one is the best to follow. its like a game of bluff or double bluff when you have no idea what the result might be. one pretty special moment occured yesterday when i came out of a forest and saw Bard Castle - an incredible place cascading down a small mountain into a valley, a jumble of stone and granite so big that it defies description. i ended Day 3 in a place called Pont St Martin - best known for its old Roman Bridge - and started Day 4 on the SS26 again. God i hate that road. setting off at about 7am i got to a big town called Ivrea considerably ahead of schedule and was rather pleased with myself. what a fatal mistake that feeling was as i then (as it turned out) took the wrong road out of town and walked an hour and a half in completely the wrong direction. its funny sometimes on the Camino - you have a piece of incredibly good luck immediately followed by some bad. or visa versa. so my bad luck was to take the wrong path and my good was a bus immediately turning up and taking me back to where i started. i then had bad luck again as i walked into the country until about 2pm and i was tired, knackered and ready to rest but there was no accomodation for 15kms. another 3 hours. i cannot tell you how frustrated, depressed, angry and annoyed i was. but i couldn't do anything except walk, so walk i did (after fueling up - at a cafe i found - on beer, water, coffee and chocolate which is quite a potent combination if you consume all 4 within 20 minutes of each other). i then literally marched up the bloody motorway that'd replaced the SS26 and, good luck again, turned a corner to find Lake Viverone. this is such a beautiful place that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. i've walked nearly 40kms today, have 2 enormous blisters on my feet, and tired beyond belief and reached what i thought were the limits of my endurance. but i got through it and have ended up at a place i never knew existed. if someone was to ever ask me why i put myself through such hardship then this is the answer. its a feeling like nothing else on earth - and thats why i do it