Como se dice "squat"?
The Camino de Santiago is, among other things (more significant) a cheap way to travel in Spain. The albergues (pilgrim hostels) generally cost about 5 euro per night, and often have kitchens so… Continue reading
The Camino de Santiago is, among other things (more significant) a cheap way to travel in Spain. The albergues (pilgrim hostels) generally cost about 5 euro per night, and often have kitchens so… Continue reading
I was singing the cheery song from my last post (the one about not dying from contaminated water) yesterday when I came upon another one of the tiny towns that dot the camino.… Continue reading
So walking the Camino is a form of meditation, and a great time for introspection, but I’d be lying by omission if I let you think I was over here pondering The Mysteries… Continue reading
We have almost made it to our first fundraising goal! The de-prisonification of the day care and orphanage and supply delivery to the new center in Zambia are almost certain. Thank you each… Continue reading
In the spirit of friendly international competition (I’m loving the World Cup, go Ghana!) I’m challenging Belgium to a fundraising race. My unbearably lovely co-fundraiser has been making fabric flowers, which have been… Continue reading
I finished the French Way of the Camino de Santiago. I started on a chilly morning in Pamplona in late May and finished on a bakingly hot afternoon in late June. Over 700… Continue reading
After all those steps, sweating and freezing in turns, and trying my hardest to remember how incredible it all was the whole way, I found myself on the last night before arriving in… Continue reading
I have walked around six hundred kilometers over the last three weeks or so, and have just over a hundred left to my destination, though from there I intend another hundred to the… Continue reading
One of the traditional instruments of the pilgrim is the baston. (That should have an accent on the o.) It is basically a walking stick, to help pass the miles, but is also… Continue reading
This morning I wake up in a I-don’t-even-know-which century monastery in the tiny town of Samos, Spain. The lights flip on at 6:30 (which is as late as I have yet managed to… Continue reading