466: The REAL Camino - Part II

Days 1 and 2 under the belt. I found today much harder than yesterday. (Note to self, wait for tomorrow!) Looking on the map the stretch from Neda to Pontedueme looked to be simply a North to South route but I found it to be a bit of a meander, in and out like a fiddler's elbow, up and down like a tart's drawers! You know the Duke of York? Not that 'nice' Prince Andrew, we all know and love, but the one from the children's nursery rhyme. I spent a lot of time today marching up to the top of a hill and marching down again. 

My heart has been in my mouth almost every step, for two reasons. Firstly I was concerned that the barking dogs I heard here and there might not have been behind big fences - they were, thankfully. I didn't need to parry them off with my trusty peregrino pole. Secondly that I might have come across a high bridge that needed crossing. I don't do high bridges and it would have been a premature end to the adventure. This one, at Pontedueme, was easy-peasy.

A few pictures: a few views, a few meals, and two Strava route maps.

The tourist office at Ferrol. The route starts here	Equipment for Seniors, but I needed to save my energy	Ferrol
Una tostada con tomate. A Spanish favourite.	Oranges	A mushroom. The best way to know if mushrooms are good to eat is to buy it in a shop.
View from the bedroom window	A square pizza! Who knew!	Another hill conquered

 

 

 

 

465: The REAL Camino de Santiago de Compostela (Part I)

Day -1  (Sunday)

I simply hadn't realized that it was more then 1,000 km from Salou to get to the start point of the English way of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. I know now. It's Sunday morning and I'm on the very very slow stopping everywhere train to Madrid where I will overnight before catching an early train to speed me on my way to Ferrol, in Spain's Galicia province. I could have caught a faster train but it would have been much more expensive and you know what I'm like - look after the centimes and the Euros will look after themselves. Almost 8 hours on this train. 24 Euros 65 with my pensioner's discount Gold card. Imagine travelling on a train in UK for 8 hours for 24.65. I don't think so.

6 hours into the 8 hour train journey it started to rain. I wasn't expecting rain until Wednesday, in Galicia, I had just put on waterproof trousers and top over my T-shirt and shorts because I was finding the train air conditioning cold, but the rain was outside the train anyway and not inside. It's been a lovely journey passing through mountains and past orange trees and groves of olive bushes (not that I can tell one from the other). I'll be pleased to reach Madrid though, as my sandwiches and beer are finished.

I eventually arrived in Madrid (Chamartin station) and found not only the hotel but also a Burger King right on the station concourse. Some people reading this might call me a Philistine for my fast food predilection but you know what you're getting, it's reasonably cheap, and reasonably fast. And in (most of) Europe they sell beer in their fast food outlets - what's not to like.

Madrid: high-tech and high-rise

 Day 0 (Monday)

An early start, 7.15 a.m., from Chamartin station. A different ball-game today with 2 high-speed trains. Provided I can get shaved and showered and out the door in good time. It pays to understand how things work: if you turned up at 7.10 a.m. you'd probably miss the train because before you can get on high speed trains, at least in Spain, you have to have your luggage scanned and your ticket scanned. Equals 2 queues. The train whizzed along much faster than yesterday's but the restaurant car was not working and neither was the on-board wifi. Still, one can't have everything. Seats were allocated without regard for what we know as social distancing and a young lady came and plonked herself down beside me. I thought at first my luck was in but she promptly fell asleep. Her ticket was actually for the window seat but it's the early bird that catches the worm so she missed out.

I changed trains at Ourense for a 'semi-fast' train and arrived in A Coruña just before 1 p.m. There was an onward connection to Ferrol at 5.20 p.m. but I had the nous to go to the bus station where I discovered there was a bus leaving almost straight away for the short hop. In Ferrol the bus station seemed to be in the middle of nowhere - lots of buildings around but all shuttered. Siesta time. Luckily I found an open cafe, where the fare was much different to last night's BK. Can't get more Spanish than churros to dip in hot chocolate. The salami was a freebie. Not something I'd have picked but I couldn't really send it back, so I ate it! I'm now ensconsed in my hotel in Ferrol (Gran Hotel de Ferrol) and very nice it is too. I shall go and recce the start line and then I'm all ready to start the adventure tomorrow.

464: Putting on the Ritz

Life,as a pensioner, is grand.

Two days and two nights in London, so I can wait for my COVID PCR test and Spanish health form to arrive before flying to Spain tomorrow. At least I hope to fly to Spain tomorrow. I just need to convince them I am a resident there and not a tourist. I have a whole wadge of documents and hope it will be enough. 

Spent yesterday evening in the RAF Club catching up with two old friends, Gail and Andrea. As we sometimes say in English we 'put the world to rights', over a couple of bottles of house white.

I'm actually staying in the Union Jack club and this morning, after a very nice Big Boys Breakfast, I went for a walk around this part of London:

Waterloo bridge -> the Strand  -> Trafalgar Square -> Leicester Square -> Picadilly -> Haymarket -> Northumberland Avenue -> Millenium Bridge. All well-known London landmarks. I passed Somerset House, which used to house archives and wills, The Savoy Hotel and the adjacent theatre which used to show Gilbert & Sullivan operettas but is now showing Dolly Parton (not all of her surely?), Fortnum & Mason's & The Ritz. Deluxe suites available at the Ritz from £1,800 per night! I particularly wanted to reach the Ritz to justifiy re-showing one of my favourite flash mob video clips "putting on the Ritz". 

Sitting have a coffee and croissant, as you do, I was amused to see two electronic bollards sliding open to let selected vehicle through. I thought the Daleks were coming to get me.

About to have lunch with my sister and her beau and this evening I shall have a drink, or two, with a Chelsea Pensioner friend.  I wonder if he will be in his scarlets....

 

 

463: Striding vs strolling

Yesterday and today I walked along the coast from Brora to Golspie (10km) . Yesterday I was striding because I had an appointment to keep but today there were no such time constraints so I could take my time and actually look at the countryside and nature. It was nice to see seals basking in the sunshine and sheep with their lambs. Crazy weather for the time of year (May). If you look closely you can see yesterday's snow sprinkled on the tops of the hills. The walk alternated between sand, shingles & grass. In the 2nd picture the water falling onto the waterfall is brownish in colour because of the peat it picks up on its way down from the hills.

Seals enjoying the sunshine
	Dunrobin castle

to stride: to walk with long, decisive steps in a specified direction. Almost like marching.
to stroll: to walk in a leisurely way.

 

462: Ecclefechan

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Four countries: England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. Governed by the British Parliament in Westminster with powers devolved to Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. Every time there is a decision on Covid (de-escalation etc) taken in Westminster the other three countries take a similar decision although often from a different date.

That's how it is that I am in Golspie again, because that nice Nicola Sturgeon, First Minister of Scotland, has allowed travel between Scotland and the constituent parts of the United Kingdom and has also allowed hotels in Scotland to open. This came into force on Monday, and on Tuesday I set out to drive North.   

Once you get to be 'of a certain age' events conspire against you. You need to stop at service stations more often, to buy coffee to stay awake. The coffee goes straight through you and you have to stop at the next service station to let nature take its course. While you're there you buy coffee to help to stay awake and then have to stop at the next service station......  

I stopped in Wilmslow to have a socially distanced lunch with one of my cousins and his wife. He is a tremendously practical hands-on kind of man and has converted his garage into a little bed-sit for his 93-year-old parents (my aunt and uncle). I'm willing to bet everybody reading this would go "yeugh, I wouldn't want to live in a garage" but he's made an amazing job of it. living & sleeping area, cooking area, toilet & shower area. It was great to see them all. 

I continued my journey North. Hotels in England are still closed, apart from for key workers and for those attending funerals, so I had booked a hotel just over the border in Scotland in a one-horse town called Ecclefechan. I found the hotel and car park easily enough but finding the entrance was another story altogether.

Here is the first sign you see. Surely I was being reasonable in thinking I should go around to the front of the building?

 

This is what I saw at the front. The door was firmly locked. Perhaps they were worried about an invasion of corona-virus-riddled Sassenachs?  Back to the car, to sit and ponder what to do next. I found the hotel phone number tucked away somewhere in the booking.com email and rang them. Unfortunately, I could hear them saying that they couldn't hear me. Now what to do? Sleep in the car in the car park?

 

At that moment a van pulled up and parked closer to the hotel than I was. A man got out and 'disappeared'. Further investigation showed another door. Finally I was in.  Things improved dramatically after that. They gave me a nice room and a nice breakfast. wi-fi wasn't up to much but even I don't have to be glued to it 24/7.

461: Does God read blogs??

This particular blog is all about Religion and my understanding of the relationship between God and me. If you're not interested in reading about this relationship then now would be a good time to stop reading. I just felt the need to put something down on paper. (Lockdown is doing strange things to us all). The Christians, and indeed non-Christians, that I know are welcome to comment.

 I THINK I believe in God. In the concept of a creator, who created everything all those billions of years ago and allowed the universe and everything in it and on it to evolve to where we are today.

But He makes it SO difficult for me to believe. In the bible He, or His angels, personally appeared to so many people with different messages. It seems as though I am not worthy of a visitation. If He could only give me some kind of sign then I could KNOW I believe in Him. My faith keeps wavering and I know it would be so easy for Him to send a sign and bring me on board so that my faith could be as strong as a rock. I often wonder why He chooses not to 'talk' to me.

Revelation 3:20. Jesus said: "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." I opened the door about 4 years ago. I am still waiting for him to come in and talk to me. Jesus, where are you?

While I have your attention God, I wonder if you could tell me whether I need to pray out loud or whether praying in my mind is sufficient? Surely if you are omniscient you know what I am thinking?

I understand that the concept of a Creator who can see/interact with all 7.8 billion inhabitants of this planet at the same time, and all the animals as well, is a difficult concept to get one's head around. I personally think in terms of looking down on an anthill where you can see lots of activity going on all the time. I can then imagine up-scaling that so that God can look down on everything at once. 

Can I briefly mention determinism while I'm here. The theory that all events, including moral choices, are completely determined by previously existing causes. It is is usually understood to preclude free will because it entails that humans cannot act otherwise than they do. Imagine, if you will, that it doesn't matter what course of action you choose or take as everything has already been pre-ordained. A bit like a giant book of the Universe and the pages are slowly being turned by 'the Architect'. I am ready to accept that as a philosophy.

To sum up then, am I to understand that I have to believe in order to have any chance of redemption? Even if I say "OK, I believe" without meaning it He will know if I'm only pretending and will close the door in my face on the Day of Judgement (even though He himself has chosen not to send me proof positive).

To use a hackneyed cliche - we are where we are. Forgive the incoherent ramblings of this pseudo-Christian. I will keep going to Church and Bible Study and hope that one day he will somehow send me a message to convince me of his existence.  

Now I can't put off Spanish homework any longer! 

 

460: 1971-2021 50 years and counting

The first picture was taken in Cyprus in 1971, the second fifty years later in 2021, at the beginning of my 120 km (75 mile) charity walk. You'll notice I haven't changed a bit! 😁

 A lot of water has flowed under the bridge during those 50 years. Including.......

I've held the following ranks in the British military: Cpl, LSgt, Sgt, SSgt, WO2(SQMS), WO1(SSM), Plt Offr, Fg Offr, Flt Lt.

With the following units: 1st Bn the Gordon Highlanders, The Life Guards, 1st Bn (22nd) Cheshire Regiment, 39 Fd Regt Royal Engineers, British Embassy Moscow, RAPC Computer Centre, 247 Pro Coy Royal Military Police, SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers in Europe), 7630 Sqn RAuxAF - all memorable in their own way.

With the following jobs: Military Pay Clerk, Service Funds Accountant, Computer Programmer, Russian Interpreter, HUMINTer. 

In the following places:  UK (including Northern Ireland), Cyprus, Germany (West and East - in the days when they were 2 separate countries), Belgium, Moscow, Kaliningrad, Ukraine, Kazakhstan

After leaving the Army I spent 2 years as a Regional Administrator for Combat Stress, 1 year as a computer programmer with local government, 10 years as a civil servant and 13 years as a teacher of English as a foreign language (in Moscow, Warsaw and Salou). 

Met some great friends (British, Russian, Polish, Spanish & Venezuelan) along the way.

Oh, and did I mention I've run three marathons? Long time ago now though.

Is it time to put my feet up now or do I carry on looking for 'adventures'? 

I need to thank my long-suffering wife Margo for her patience and forbearance in putting up with me for nearly 50 years and for tolerating my 'few' foibles. Thanks also to our children, Morag (aka Mo) & Gareth. They seem to have turned out OK despite being shuttled from pillar to post during their formative years.

I think I'm ready to meet my Maker, having managed, somehow, the biblical three score years and ten. I know an awful lot of people who didn't manage to get that far. May they Rest in Peace. I'd be very happy though if 'the Man upstairs' were to postpone the meeting. The Office for National Statistics in UK predicts that life expectancy for a UK male born in 1951 is 86 years. I would be very pleased to soldier on and prove that statistics don't lie.  (Although I think they often do!)

I'm still in reasonable overall health, despite suffering from sciatica, cataracts, migraine with aura and essential tremor. Keep taking the tablets!

I do sleep well most nights. - must be the medicine!