And the Hiking Begins….

August 12: Late in the night, my neighbors trickled into their beds and promptly went to sleep. The next morning, when I was ready to get up and get going, they were still all fast asleep so I left them that way. I sneaked downstairs and took a shower—presumably my last one for quite some time—and grabbed breakfast which consisted of cereal and bread. Bread, if you didn’t know it, is a staple of the French diet. They can’t have a meal without bread. They have entire shops dedicated to break—not unlike Starbucks in Seattle with one on every block. Maybe even two on some blocks. People walk around with bread in their packs, in their hands. It’s always a hard bread that I find difficult to chew. I think they might even play a form of baseball using their bread as a bat.
The other folks eating breakfast were all French, although one of them spoke a little bit of English. Mostly, I just felt left out of the conversation, which was fine by me. *shrug*
I headed back to my room and my bed to pack up all of my worldly possessions and finally my neighbors had woken from their slumber. Two of them were German who also spoke no French, but they did speak English so I could talk to them. The third person was French, but he also knew English. A room full of English-speaking people! That couldn’t have been coincidence…. I suspect the girl who checked me in assigned English-speaking people to that room.
One of the Germans said something in French and asked me if I understood it. “Not a word,” I told him.
“Wow,” he commented, “you really are in trouble.”
Uh, thanks…. “So what did it mean?”
“Let me ask you further down the trail and see if you’ve figured it out.”
That was less than helpful. =) The two Germans left for breakfast and I continued chatting with the French fellow who taught me a few words in French, such as how to say “United States” when people asked where I was from. (I have no idea how to write United States in French—I wrote it down phonetically so I could correctly say the words later, but the French guy told me it’s not unlike saying United States in Spanish (Estadios Unidos) and dropping the last syllable of each word (esta uni). He also taught me “Good luck!” so I could wish people “Good luck!” when I saw them on the trail. In five minutes, I single-handedly doubled my French vocabulary. =)
Then I went in search of an Internet café which I saw the day before to let Amanda and my mom know that I had made it to Le Puy okay and would be starting my hike soon. Except that the Internet café was closed on Sundays. Curses! Foiled! I ended up walking to the tourist office and I noticed they had a computer available free to use, but they asked people limit themselves to using it for only 10 minutes at a time. That was plenty for me!
Until I sat down and tried to type. I know foreign keyboards can be a challenge—I’ve typed on many a Latin American keyboard and fumbled my way through it—but the French keyboard confounded them all! These people actually switched around the letters of the keyboard! And it type a number, I had to use the SHIFT key! The symbols I never use—no shift key required. But oh, for people who want to type a number, they make you work at it. Dates, times—I found myself chasing that SHIFT key all over the place. I barely managed to type two sentences before my ten minutes were up.
I wandered back to the cathedral and figured I’d sit in on mass. I was out here for cultural experiences, and I’d never been to a mass before, and I knew one was about to start. So I marched in and took a seat. I didn’t really think I’d enjoy the experience, but that wasn’t the point. I wanted a new experience. So off to mass I went. =)
It started off with a procession of folks, including one person swinging incense around all over the place. A little while later, all of the kids were sent to the back of the cathedral. Why segregate the children? This was the Catholic church we’re talking about here! Fortunately, though, it all seemed to turn out well when the kids came back out later in the progress carrying candles towards the front and left them there. I have to admit, they were pretty adorable. One kid waved to everyone he passed, marching to the front like he was the grand marshal of a parade. Another boy waved to his parents, obviously proud of his part in the proceedings. Then the kids left their candles up front and they all scattered back to their parents.
There was a lot of talk—none of which I understood since it was all in French, but honestly, I didn’t understand most of the English-language preaching going on in the states. So it wasn’t really a whole lot different, and I found myself nodding off and itching for something more entertaining like I did in church as a kid. In fact, the kids seemed pretty itchy for something more exciting stuff to happen as well.
They had everyone stand up, sit down, stand up again, sit down again, stand up again, blah, blah, blah…. Then everyone stood up and started kissing. WHAT THE HELL?! I looked around in panic. Why was everyone kissing? I didn’t want to kiss anyone. I didn’t want anyone kissing me? Oh, those French…. I should have guessed…. Had I known I was supposed to kiss all my neighbors, I would have squeezed myself next to the cutest girls I could find. The guy next to me must have sensed my discomfort (or found me repulsive), because he stuck out his hand for a handshake. Thank GOD! Praise the Lord! A handshake will do just fine! I can do that. =) I shook his hand, and that of an older lady behind me.
When they passed around baskets to collect money, I threw in all of the change in my pocket. 1.10 euros. Less weight for me to carry. =)
Then they started with the whole communion thing where everyone marched up to the front to be fed stale bread. I didn’t really want to participate—I just wanted to watch the proceedings, not to participate in them. Anyhow, I already shook the hands of two strangers nearby! Wasn’t that enough already? I guess not….
Near the end of the service, the kids came back up and retrieved their candles and ran up with them to the front of the church, but I couldn’t see very well what they did with them after that. When the service was finally over, I officially started my hike a little after 12:00, local time. =)
I didn’t get more than five minutes down the trail before I took my first detour. I had seen the impressive, volcanic summit the day before I wanted to hike to the type. Since then, I learned it was called Saint-Michel d’Aiguilhe, and it cost 3 euros to enter. So I detoured, paid the price, and climbed the steep hillside path. It didn’t take anywhere near as long as I thought it would and the views from the top were spectacular. The summit was crowed with a 10th century chapel dedicated to St. Micheal—it really amazes me how old some of these places are. In the tenth century they were building this chapel! The first person knows to hike from Le Puy to Santiago did so over a thousand years ago! This kind of history basically doesn’t exist in the United States. The New World hadn’t even been discovered when these places were built. They were already hundreds of years old when Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
I couldn’t read any of the information signs since they were all in French and everything I learned was from a partially-English brochure I got at the entrance.
I returned to the trail, but I didn’t go for another five minutes before I detoured off trail again to go back to the tourist office and pick up a sandwich at a small shop. Except that they were closed. Curses! Everything was closed for lunch. It was going to take some time to get used to “French time.”
The rest of the day, I took no more details and stayed on path, each step taking me closer to Santiago. The trail climbed steeply over roads out of Le Puy, eventually heading off onto dirt roads with almost no traffic at all. I only traveled 22 kilometers that first day, but managed to go through several towns so small that you’d miss them if you blinked including: St. Christophe-sur-Dolaison, Tallode, Liac (where I had to scare off two mean dogs by shouting them down in English and waving my trekking pole at them), Lic, Ramourouscle, Montbonnet, and Le Chier.
That’s a lot of little towns for such a short distance. =) Most of them had absolutely no facilities, and probably wouldn’t show up on any quality map.
Le Chier did have a water faucet in town, however, and I filled up with water there and camped in a meadow near some trees outside of town. I only passed two Camino hikers the whole day, but I figured most of them left Le Puy much earlier in the day than I did. Three times I ran into herds of cattle on the roads, and I stood aside as the traffic jam passed.
The hike itself, so far, was largely uneventful.
Don't forget--if you haven't already--sponsor me in the WTA's Hike-a-Thon! =)

I take my first steps along the Camino. You can
see the cathedral behind me in the distance.

But, of course, a side-trip to Saint-Michel d’Aiguilhe was in order!

The view from the top was pretty good—you can see the statue
covered in scaffolding which where were I first spotted this
summit from!

Inside the cathedral, after mass was over.

This is the first official marking I saw for the Camino. I think the
guy in the corner is supposed to be St. James, and the yellow
sign with an arrow shows that Santiago is over 1,500 km away. =)

The trail is generally blazed with white and red horizontal
stripes. If there’s a turn in the trail, another white line
under it is included indicating the direction. In this case,
it says, “Turn right here!”

If you try to take a wrong turn, you’ll see a red and white
stripe set in the form of an X. It means, “You’re going the
wrong way! Turn back right now!” (I deliberately went the
wrong way to get this photo.) The yellow X, I assume,
means the same thing but for a different trail that is overlapping
the Camino.

This is a pilgrimage trail, so I guess it’s no surprise
that you’ll find crosses like this ALL OVER the friggin’ trail. =)

The “tail” end of a herd of cattle, apparently also
walking to Santiago. =) Any wildlife larger than me gets the
ride-of-way!

Home, sweet, home for the night. =)

To the Camino!

August 11: I didn’t plan to start hiking the trail today, but it was a big day for me. It was the day I’d go to the trailhead in Le Puy-en-Velay, or as most people refer to it, Le Puy. (Kind of pronounced like “Lu Pwee!”)

Amanda left early in the morning to catch a flight home. I slept in an hour later before I had to navigate the Paris subway system to Gar de Lyon, the train station. Technically, I could have walked to the train station, and the thought did cross my mind, but it would have taken close to an hour to do so and I’d have had to wake up even earlier. The subway required me to change lines at two different stops, including a stop at the Bastille. But admittedly, I didn’t have time to sightsee and check out the Bastille—except what could be seen from the subway line which isn’t much. One moment of panic gripped me when I wanted to get off the subway but the door didn’t open. Why didn’t it open. I pointed the door urgently and a fellow traveler turned up the knob on the door and it opened. Hmm…. Why didn’t I think of that? A doorknob. Oh, I know, because every subway system in the world I’ve EVER ridden on has doors that open automatically at every stop!

Fortunately, though, I got off at my stop before the subway continued on, found my way to the subway I wanted to change to, and the rest of the subway ride went without a hitch.

At the train station, I tried to buy tickets from a self-service vending machine, and annoyingly, it wouldn’t let me buy a 2nd class ticket because it was “full.” Bah! So I paid for a 1st class ticket to Lyon, but at least I managed to score a 2nd class ticket the rest of the way to Le Puy.

At the appointed time, I boarded the train. First class folks, like myself, had assigned seats that were quite large and cozy. Not worth the extra 60 euros, I’ll say that much, but it’s better than nothing, I suppose. It seemed odd, but I was actually a little jealous of the 2nd class folks.

The train took out of the station like a rocket and never stopped. I was a little amazed at how fast this train was. At times, it paralleled a highway and we passed cars going in our direction like they were standing still. I don’t know how fast this train could travel, but I’m pretty certain I’ve never traveled so fast on land before in my life. The scenery went by at an astounding speed, and they built a double set of tracks so trains could go in both directions without getting in each other’s way and built it so it never crossed a road—the train, quite literally, never stopped once until we reached Lyon two hours later.

I had ten minutes to switch trains, and I hoped if the train station was as big or sprawling as the one in Paris that it would be enough time. Turns out, my train to Le Puy was immediately next to the one I got of off. I was off the train for all of about ten seconds before I boarded the train to Le Puy and found a seat.

This second train was a lot slower, but the terrain we travelled through was considerably more rugged and mountainous with a lot more sharp curves along the way. It also stopped at many stops along the way and I was riding the train to the end of the line this time. Very scenic, but I found myself gazing at the scenery thinking, “Gosh, I hope the trail doesn’t hit the top of every single one of those mountains….” It would be very exhausting if it did.

In Saint-Etienne, the train stopped and a guy got on asking if I was going to Le Puy. “Oui,” I told him, and he said something I didn’t understand and waved his hands around. Everyone else on the train started getting off, and I asked if anyone knew English and what was going on. One of them said that everyone had to get to a car further up the train—these near the end were being taken off.

I quickly packed everything I had sprawled out everywhere. I had taken off my shoes for the 2 1/2 hour train ride, had a water bottle at my side, a book in my hand, trekking pole overhead. My stuff was everywhere, so I threw it all together and pushed into a car further up the train—a crowded car with all the seats already taken. Seriously? Standing room only? And they didn’t have room for me in second class on the first train?

A woman at a nearby seat had had her stuff spread out on it and she started to clear it and I ended up with a seat. Thank goodness. Most people who had luggage sat on their luggage—my backpack wasn’t hard-sided and sitting on it wouldn’t have been nearly as comfortable.

I was too tired to read anymore, so I mostly just sat and watched each station go by. I noticed that the next station was seemingly called “Prochain”—the reader board would scroll the words “Prochain arret!” and I knew ‘arret’ meant stop. (Amanda and I figured that out earlier.” But I got a little suspicious when the station after that was also called “Prochain,” and even more suspicious when the next one was also called “Prochain.” When finally, it occurred to me that that wasn’t the name of the station at all—it actually meant “Next stop!” See, I’m learning French even while riding the train. It also announced the next stop on the intercom, so I even learned how to pronounce the words correctly.

The train finally arrived in Le Puy with Swiss punctuality at 2:23 PM. I picked up a rough map of Le Puy at the train station, but it wasn’t very detailed. I walked in more-or-less the direction of the cathedral and my start of El Camino de Santiago, but it was a sort of aimless wandering where my first order of business was to find lodging. Eventually I wandered next to a sign that pointed to a hostel and followed it to another sign which led to another sign and finally to the promised hostel.

The woman manning the counter didn’t speak a lick of English, but I managed to get myself checked into the hostel and she gave me a small piece of a paper which I knew was a clue of some sort. She also indicated that there would be breakfast available in the morning, but when she told me the hours, I didn’t understand her. She wrote it down on a scrap of paper—another clue that I had trouble figuring out. 7h 30…. Then it clicked: 7:30. That was a relatively easy code to crack. Clearly, the French don’t even write times like we do. She walked me to the entrance, pointing to a building on the other side of the parking area, waving up the building, and I figured that’s where my room must be—somewhere above the ground floor.

I went in and up a flight of stairs, and I noticed small numbers by each of the closed doors. My little piece of paper had a number 5 on it, all by itself. A room number? I found room #5, and there was a keypad on it. Locked. Hmm…. The piece of paper also had a code of some sort on it C5678Y—maybe that was the code to get into the room. I tried it, turned the knob, and was in.

It’s amazing how satisfying it was to figure this out. The room had five beds in it, two of which already had stuff on them but the owners were nowhere to be seen. I claimed a bed myself, then went back outside to explore Le Puy.

I headed to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, but aimed east of it to way away from the trail. Although there wasn’t any logical reason for it, I wanted my first steps on the Camino to be at the very beginning—not intersecting it further into town. I ended up walking in through an east entrance into the giant cathedral—quite the show! This—this was the start of my hike. Tourists were walking all over the place, and many of them bought candles to light and pray and do whatever it is they do. I followed an exit sign down a staircase which took me out to the west side of the building through an arch and a view of the town framed in it. The view was stunning, and it seemed like a good as place as any to start a hike. I walked back into the cathedral and headed to their gift shop where they had all sorts of materials for pilgrims—I was a pilgrim now, on a pilgrimage to Santiago. I purchased a creanciale, my passport of sorts in which they stamp every time I stay in a hostel along the trail. They pre-stamped it with the stamp for their cathedral—my first stamp of the trail.

I also bought a book with a description of all of the hostels along the route and another book that had maps of the trail and, more importantly, an elevation profile of the trail. And finally, I bought a patch of a scallop shell—the symbol of pilgrims on the Camino.

Walking up to the cathedral, I noticed a volcano summit with an enormous statue on top—absolutely beautiful except that the statue was covered in scaffolding. Obviously, it was being refurbished, but I wanted to get a closer look and walked up to it where I learned I could hike to the top for 3 euros. I paid the price and climbed the steep trail to the top. I couldn’t go in where the statue was—it was boarded off—but the views from the top were spectacular! I also noticed another impressive volcanic summit nearby with what looked like a castle at the top, and a third volcanic summit further in the distance with a tower at the top. I saw people walking up the castle-top mountain, so I knew it could be climbed, and I put that on my to-do list. The tower further off I decided to pass on. It wasn’t as impressive and it was much further away from the trail.

I took my photos, descended, then headed to a pilgrim’s gathering near the cathedral. My guidebook explained that people who’ve hiked the Camino would be there to ask questions or get advice. I didn’t really have any questions or advice, but I figured it might be a good way to meet a few of my fellow travelers, so I attended anyhow.

Turns out, one of the people who showed up was the woman sitting next to me on the train to Le Puy. She didn’t look like a hiker and I assumed she lived in Le Puy or was just visiting it for some reason. So we formally introduced ourselves. I have no idea how to properly spell her name, but it sounded like Katreen.

The passed around a bottle of some sort of alcoholic beverage—and anyone who knows me knows I’m not a big fan of alcohol. So I sniffed it a little when nobody was watching and it didn’t smell like alcohol, so I figured I’d go ahead and try it. Which I did. I have no idea what it was, but it didn’t kill me. =) It didn’t even taste bad, but I still liked water better and drank that the rest of the evening.

None of the other hikers I met were planning to go all of the way to Santiago—they were all planning to section hike the trail. Katreen would do only three days on it. Most of the others planned for at least a week, and one person had a maximum of three weeks and he’d stop wherever he was after his time was up to pick up and continue again next year. I didn’t really have any in depth conversations with any of them them, though—most didn’t speak English and those that did didn’t speak it well.

At any case, I got another stamp in my creanciale for showing up. =)

As I was writing in my journal, Katreen walked back in and waved me to follow her. So I did—a woman who worked there was going to give a tour of the place and she knew English so I could follow along. In the floor under us, they were doing some renovations and discovered paintings under the false ceilings that nobody knew about and dated from hundreds of years earlier. The renovations stopped and the restoration began. They were only discovered about three months before so one room they had finished restorations—the other room was still exactly as they found them. It was all very cool and fascinating.

After the tour ended, I wandered off on my own to a shop where I purchased a sandwich for dinner and bumped into Katreen for the third time completely by accident. We talked for a couple of more minutes and wished each other luck on the trail. Then I headed back to my room at the hostel. Another bed was taken during my absence, but the room was empty. I still had no idea who my roommates were.

In other news, no new contributions for the Hike-a-Thon since my last report, but it’s still not to late to sponsor me now! Don’t make me post more photos of my feet! I just finished a 20+ mile hike today through 100 degree weather. They aren’t looking pretty!

The view through the arch of the cathedral and my
first view of El Camino de Santiago

The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Le Puy—and the starting point of my hike.

I’m sure the statue would look more impressive it
it weren’t covered in scaffolding….

This old volcanic hill intrigued me when I spotted it.
Look at all the people going up the right side! I can DO THIS TOO!

These are some of the recently discovered paintings hundreds of years old
that have already been restored.

My abode for the night….

It’s interesting walking around foreign countries. Even though
this sign had no French on it, I still had absolutely no idea
what it meant. Spiders, to the left? Everyone else to the right?