Portomarín

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Decorated in the rococo style

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Available until 17 Nov 2017

When Guernica was painted

Picasso knew stuff we didn't

Strike that, its not we, I didn't, as some of you are quite smart!

What Franco had done in destroying a culture, in providing the unforgiving iron fist of another, which people sang songs about including Elvis', "Tramp the dirt down", for me has in my old age, reminded me that we polarise at our leisure and unite with displeasure and yet we always unite in the end. Like a pool of mercury, we fracture, splinter, lose pools, join back up, there's a common bond that prevails.

In Spain I've walked the camino discussing Scotland and our independence while contrasting that with Catalonia. I care not a jot as I honestly believe all of these things serve a purpose to distract from the only show in town. Are you rich or poor.

I mean this from a librarian's point of view. I don't ask do you squander money or preserve it, I ask can you read, have you the ability to make conscious decisions or has education education education rendered you illiterate.

In our country today we have mothers and fathers unable to look after their children and a harrassed, damned if you do/don't, social services send them off for adoption/fostering or gamble on leaving them in their struggle. Guess what, another child comes along and the same poor mother/father loses another child and the state shafts them again. We slag American values and yet we have created in the last 30 years a society so divided that the quiet middle ground has kept its mouth shut and moved across the street.

Guernica is all around us and what we need to do is see it and act accordingly.

Religious intolerance has been our specialised subject in Scotland and Northern Ireland meaning we have little time for racism but we're still good at sexism. Let's not deny that we have a great ability to be taught by rote. Every bone In my body knows what religion I practiced until I was 18. I also know that the body of Christ was a big part of that nonsense. I'm not angry now, just reconciled to the fact that people believe in rules conceived a long time ago when the Medicine man was male and the stoning of the puir wee hungry bread thief was the football of its day. See life of Brian for confirmation!!

Can we all move forward please and not need Guernica to remind us where we came from.

The atrocities depicted mask the commonality of existence. Whether they were all bombing together or starving together, its there. Cause and effect, is there. Your actions define you, is there.

These themes continue as we navigate towards a posturing Brexit then an apology for leaving, a reconciliation as the mercury divides then gently comes back together. Building a wall in Berlin was as useful as the ones the Roman Hadrian had constructed, a hard border for the Brexit of the future, aka Revexit. Walls have a great gift for dividing but ironically they unite too as proven in Berlin.

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Great wines Orwell may have tasted

I like a journey across Spain and I love a wee bit of history, especially when total wine drinking and not totalitarian nonsense is the chat. The wee bar I was in had bottles from 1915 and in my best Spanish I said - ye need to get yer stock taker tae rotate that shite--- it guy oot o date

Turning water into wine

There's been many stories about how best to move water around Spain but back in the day the Romans were only interested In Moving the wine a bit quicker.

They built huge aqueducts to ensure the fine wines of the duero and Rio ja Could move to the south quicker!

The bus camino left Vitoria

And now we're in Pamplona and Monday Zaragoza and Wednesday Azofra! Friday we'll go for Burgos or even Astorga!

Eyes down at Cafe Iruna in Pamplona as the bingo starts

Little st Fermin has a fiesta without the bulls in September and we landed into it just as we did yesterday in Vitoria/ Gasteiz with the medieval festival. Tonight it's going to get messy as the tapas bars and streets are now so rammed all you can do is go with the celebrated Hampden flow of the 1960's!

Vitoria- a day off the camino

VBcamino7 full story and photos to follow

Diary VBcamino7

September 10 was a short sleep and up to airport at 5am wine by 11am Spanish time in Santander then bus to Burgos for another 5 then another bus at 4pm to Leon nominate then leave hibs fleecy and hat hear 4-4 leon v Valladolid jamon jamon more wine return to hotel by midnight and out for 9:15 bus to ponferrade before walking to albergue In bierzo pumped and drunk we slept well in albergue on Monday night. We had eaten a 3 course lunch in cacabelos or somewhere and had the bright idea to arse wine not water and the dye was cast.

I remember going up and having a shower while Stu did Something but no idea now what it was. We had drink bought some food and wine returned about 9 and felt sensible 

Next day it was up and out the lovely river road to travadelo. We took it easy with breaks and unlimited water with sugary tea Verdi- lunch was a non event as we stopped at a cafe not a restaurant bar. Tortilla was powdery shop bought. Schoolboy error every pilgrim knows Ambarestas has a great cafe as you come on around the corner where the horse sign is but at 11:45 there were no tables outside. That doesn't make it closed it just means go inside and wait!

Moments earlier we'd been in la portela lighting candles. So many people to light candles for. Loads of friends and family and so that's how I split my 2€ - one friends, John, Tom, Walls, Kenny, Graeme and Neil Smith, hilary's mum, the list went on seemingly endless even Paul Wynne. The family candle faired no better as Margaret, Kyle and the 3 generations of Mackay's got my thoughts as well a list of family I knew but never thought I'd recall. As I thought about Margaret the mind slipped seamlessly into Dougie, then Graham and Gail, Linda and you realise this is quite  long time to spend in a church lighting candles so you take your thoughts out to the light. You also add the living, not least my mum and dad.

Well, that's my excuse for not lighting a candle to the God of lunch and lo behold 10 minutes later I'm eating powdery mash.

We had been in and out of the showery rain and while our bags were wet it was warm rain and we dried quickly. We were going to gamble on Los Herrerias having space in Casa Polin but we took the  plunge and booked ahead. 2 hours later we were there showered and ready to rumble in the foothills of O'Cebreiro.

I got our washing together and as every good tour guide would do ventured down for a beer. "Cerveza por favor , y, esta lavadora?" My hackneyed phrase wasn't required as she gave me beer and bumped me served another customer with a wave and a "Si". As in see you later. Well accustomed as I am I did exactly what I was supposed to and went outside, sat in the sun and drunk my beer. It tasted better than powdery mash tortilla, in fact it washed it all away with two hearty glugs. As I neared the end of my beer,  my lavadora saviour beckoned me down steps into the bowels of the building, tricky steep stairs, under and around damp sheets a traditional health and safety nightmare. She gave me a smile pointed at the lavadora and I understood that look immediately. "You sweaty socks, me no touch your filthy washing". A very smart woman, I smiled knowingly back. Then the fun began. "Poco" powdero I tried "allergico", another smile and she emptied half a kilo of powder back into the box. At 30 degrees we rarely see any of this stuff dissolve. It usually just binds to our threadbare garments and holds them together like weetabix on a sink. Next to meet the washing Gods was the on off switch. Clearly it wasn't working. Now we were both off duty having looked at he myriad of plugs and points in the basement, she ushered me back around the sheets and up the tricky wee stairs. Glad I'd only had one beer! 

Stu had now arrived and so more beer was ordered. A thumbs up from the wonderful Maria filled us with confidence that our washing was now doing battle with the powder and a wave about "Secunda" may have secured us either an extra beer or a drier for our washing both of which we needed.

With the second beer completed, we ventured out to see the sights of los Herrerias. As we had passed them on the way in, we knew there were 6 to do. The plan was to walk back to the first bar and then have a drink in the other five. A Noble ambition and we succeeded. We didn't quite manage them in the correct order as we stopped at the first bar,  Victor the horseman's local, nearest our Casa to try on hats. 

We made our way down to the Albuquerque at the beginning of Life s Herrerias where a large group of younger walkers were finishing a noisy 3 courses with wine. Wine looked a good move so we moved to wine. We continued on the wine as we headed back along the road and we're back at casa polin for our 3 courses about 7:30pm.

As we sat down to have a meal, Maria let me know the washing was now dry and I could get it before or after. "Tranquillo" suggested she wasn't rushing me but I knew best to go now as it wasn't the easiest. Back down the stairs she ushered me laughing at my clumsy drunken headbuts of the rafters. After walking through the damp sheets she gave me the dry washing and steered me back towards the light of the doorway. Back up the tricky steps I sprung until the top step tumble as I spilled the clothes over a sleeping Alsatian. That was sobering. I'm on the floor, the washing is on his head and his ears poked out through Stu's blue shorts. I've had a few "the end is nigh" moments but he shook off the shorts and I ran to the room with the clean stuff!

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Gaudi in Astorga

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> I've started so you'll finish said the kings after Gaudi downed tools on their new palace. Usual story, a good project under funded with idiots making changes to the design? Sound familiar, well the good news is we've not gone backwards we just haven't progressed as well as many like to think we have and let's face it, buildings are like a garden. We're always developing them stripping them back, making them grand, stripping them back. Clearly some of us like change. Talking of change you don't get much back in Astorga as amongst its rich Roman history it's also the chocolate capital of Spain and that's what your change is for, especially off a €100 note, Fat Al is loving this...
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> Back to the palace (or big hoose cos lets be real, no pun intended but the royals with all that interbreeding have big families) and it finally got finished by the 6 or 7th architectural practice to inherit the job - hopefully they got squared up as it's no bad if you lie on your back in the beautiful gardens and look up in awe or just take a picture and ask someone to help fat Al to his feet - donde esta the crane. Top tip, don't lie on chocolate
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Lions guard Zebra crossing in Leon

Call me old fashioned but it's no surprise I've not seen a zebra yet in Leon

Fwd: From hospital D'Orbigo on the back road to Astorga

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> It doesn't get much better than this. Blue skies and then you stumble across a shack where people have set up home and by the looks of things do pretty well on it. Living in the moment with the moment and then I'll photograph it to remind me of the moment - right back to the moment then...
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One Highlight from 2007 Camino - www.500m.wordpress.com

Dancin’ Al’s Last Waltz

12 09 2007

I thought Olaf was king of Norway. Not so today, but more of that later – as we left the town – the tinto from last night added to the heat in the Albergue had left me feeling somewhat bedraggled. The eating lesson from Simon teaching me how to chew my food left my jaw pretty sore as all night I had been practising in my sleep.

Today’s way of the camino – which as ever – was all around us – was walking styles. Not the fast slow that I specialise in, but more the rhythm and the tools used.

For example the brits adopt an arm action – especially the male ones as anal as me that have studied the bio-mechanics and motion of Michael Johnson – there’s almost a piston action to it reminiscent of the time Stevenson walked the camino and came back to Scotland to invent the famous rocket.

There’s a marker on the wall at Trinidad de Arre where allegedly the light was switched on his proverbial head. I say that because we know Edison came after so obviously the light bulb couldn’t have been turned on as such – more set alight, which of course nobody would’ve done to Stevenson as he wasn’t a witch – or at least to my knowledge anyway. Funnily enough we were going up that hill with the same vigour as Des Barnes had just visited the begging for CHAS site, www.justgiving.com/deadbeat.

It wasn’t much of a hill really only about the same as Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh but when you’ve already done a few like it a few times that day the vim and vigour kinda passes you by.

So back to the walking styles – you get to study them all day as you tend to walk with the same mob day in day out.

You overtake them 5 minutes out of the refuge from the night before and smile and say “hola, beunos dias, beuno camino” as you demonstrate your vast mastery of the language and confidence at the day ahead, then they overtake you 2 hours later when your lying puggled in a heap at the side of the road with just enough breath to say “o……le” the last breath before the smile swallows some more dirt or the head drops into the water trough.

There’s loads of these troughs in this part of Spain. The water pours of the hills and we are told its ok to drink in a language we don’t understand so we drink it – any other answer when you are parched just doesn’t work for me, although today when Si saw some steps down to a stagnant part of the river and went to fill his bottle I suggested he was perhaps in one of his “not thinking” moments, that or I’m back to being alan sorry anal again.

Talking of which Simon gave me an eating lesson yesterday. I’ve decided I have no teeth and need to order smoothies for my main course. The fish soup at the Pilgrims 11 euro three course meal last night – check out Si’s blog – he’s bound to have said should’ve gone to the 10 euro plus wine option – where was I – yes fish soup was superb. A big terrine with enough for 4 bowls but I thought – “no – patience, leave room for the stew.”

As I munched my way through the stew, well I’m sure Si’ll cover it, but I ran out of room in my dinky little hamster pouches.

So I had to eat one piece at a time chew, swallow, then repeat. By midnight I’d finished the main course but its my mission over the next 5 weeks to learn how to eat.

He’s also teaching me how to walk. As we studied these walking styles, for example the two girls ahead didn’t use their arms. They carry their arms in front of them. We think their French, so we concluded French girls pray while they walk, probably that the smelly fat olafs don’t overtake them.

Their prayers were answered – we couldn’t catch them the closest we got was 5m which we maintained for 22km – no wonder I’m tired.

Tonight Scotland are in Paris and we’re in Pamploma – it doesn’t get better – unless of course we get a result!

We had a bit of shopping to do once we got here. I learnt the Spanish for safety pin – i-mmediately consigned it to the memory delete bank as I’m not likely to need it again am I.

I also bought Sueroral Hiposodico – its the Spanish diarolyte – basically I’m a fragile wee soul that sweats when I get out of bed in this heat so doing anything as energetic as putting my boots on has me losing those natural salts like a good’un. Si offers me cookies as they’re the answer to everything, oh and pringles.

That why he’s never joined a golf club, more a Pringle scoffer than wearer of the fine garb Nick Faldo used to promote.

But back to the shops – we bought compeed – you can’t have enough – even though we’ve not used any yet! Simon also bought scissors. ‘Great’ I thought ‘I can finally do something about your snoring’.

He bought string as well – I hope that’s him hoping I’ll be light enough by Santiago that it’ll hang me with.

Actually I’ve got to stop now I’m getting a blister on my pinkie – its this blackberry thing – in the heat y’know – its not a good idea!

Cheers

Al

More Pictures - a failed slideshow

Some pictures from 2011