I was lost, but now I am found!

We set off at about 11am this morning. The guide sent me on my way, telling me to follow the signs to Hospital de Orbigo and then Astorga. It was about a 42 mile journey today.

Well, as can be expected i got lost. I ended up on a back country road that eventually lead me to Hospital de Orbigo. I also ended up in a highway (which is the old Camino!). I go a flat tire about three km from Astorga. I was in the middle of changing it and the autopista came and helped!!! Hooray!!! So after some time I was back on the Camino. I saw a lot of other Pilgrims.

In Astorga, I arrive about 3 hours ahead of the rest of my group. My stuff was in the van, so I walked around Astorga. The cathedral was closed. But I saw the Palace that Antonio Gaudi designed. I was again amazed at how adept spaniards are at being together - multiple generations all existing together.

I am so grateful for this experience. I loved riding through the Spanish country. It was relatively flat today. Since I wasn't on the main Camino, I didn't see a lot if scallops (the official symbol of the Camino de Santiago). But I am always pleasantly surprised by the simplicity of Spanish life.

I didn't ice cream...tomorrow I will have ice cream!!!!

Some pictures of where we are staying (supposedly Napoleon stayed here!):

The obsession continues...

Getting ready to head out the next morning

Outnumbered

I met my traveling group today. I am traveling with three australians and my guides are from Portugal. It is interesting to hear them talk about Australia.

Two of the others are an older couple that have been traveling for quite some time. They stayed in Italy for three weeks and then have traveled in Spain for three weeks. My roommate, Karen, has been traveling throughout northern Spain for a month.

It doesn't appear that any of them are particularly religious, which is kind of disappointing. But I think they will be good traveling partners from whom I can learn much.

Gratitude

After a small meltdown yesterday two things happened. One, I reread the book "Have a Little Faith" by Mitch Albom. It is about his writing of a eulogy for a rabbi that he grew up with. When he asked the rabbi how to be happy, the wise man replied:

Be satisfied.
Be grateful.
For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you.

The second thing is that through email I got some wise advice from a friend. He always says that gratitude is the key to happiness. It was the introductory paragraph to a very important paper he recently finished. He reminded me to be grateful for my trip, for my experience and for the opportunities that lie ahead.

He is wise beyond his (albeit much greater than mine) years. I know this. I am grateful for him.

I've been searching and searching for a "theme" for my ride. And there are two things I have come upon:
1. Be grateful. Focus on what you have.
2. You are enough.

Leon

We finally arrived in Leon. The train ride was scheduled to be 2 hours 45 minutes. It took 5 hours and 12 minutes. Spain!!!

This old couple was SO cute!

I stayed at a hostel last night. I have never smelled so disgusting nor been so happy to take a shower!!!!
I walked around Leon and despite all of disdain for the country (I forgot about the tsking!!!)

I forgot that they know how to be. It was a friday night and the plazas were full of people meandering and enjoying each others company. No one was in a hurry. No one cared what time it was or anything else. I walked with a family from Leon when leaving the train station. They told me they knew I was American because I walked fast and looked like I had somewhere to be!

This morning I went to Plaza Mayor to meet my group. No one was there. Of course, the receptionist at the hotel was Spanish and not in the least bit helpful. I frantically called my mom (don't wanna see that phone bill!), she said she thought we were supposed to meet at 10:45. So I walked up to the cathedral and just made morning mass. I was surprised how many people were there. I understood most of mass, but didn't know the responses in spanish. It was comforting.

I returned to Plaza Mayor where there is a huge market. And not like the farmers market we have in LA (filled with Bobos), this is where actual farmers sell their food and actual people buy it. I bought a yummy apple and sat and watched the people. People talking. People eating. People being with each other.

Cathedral in Leon

After some more panic about my group, I called the US number. I am supposed to meet them at 4:30. Phew....

Apparently those that generate graffiti in Spain are also philosophers

Can we turn in an entire country to What Not to Wear?

Can we turn in an entire country to What Not to Wear?

I wonder how Stacy's dubbing would sound in Spanish:
"Ccccaaaallllllllaaaaattteeeeeee!!!!!"

At least there would be good Spanish wine served at the viewing party, right Snatch Hatch?

And the award for most incompetent country, for the 2010th year in a row...

And the award for most incompetent country, for the 2010th year in a row...

....goes to Spain! En serio!!! I arrived at the Renfe station with 45 minutes to spare (after incompetent directions from multiple train authorities). One would think this is plenty of time to buy a ticket and get on a train? Nope! All of the electronic ticket dispensers were out of service, which left two ticket windows to sell all of the tickets. They also had no labeling system to inform people of where to stand in line (shockingly, the Spaniards were pleasantly standing in line!). I helped an American couple trying to get to Segovia to find their line and then my own. I got my ticket three minutes before the train was scheduled to depart, ran down the escalator (sorry tibia!!!) and the guy running in front of me pushed open the doors as they were closing.

Jjjjjjoooooodddddeeeerrrrr (or however you spell it!)

Guarda!!!!

Guarda!!!!
Estoy en Espana. And Spain never fails to disappoint!!! After not sleeping all night in London, I was able to sleep a little on the flight to Madrid.

After getting off the plane I attempted to follow the signs for Salida.

All signs point to an exit...but there are none to be found!

 But of course, in typical Spanish manner, they took me all over the freaking airport! I asked several airport officials and they all assured me I was going the correct way. Unfortunately a group of travelers from Taiwan thought I knew what I was doing (they had seen me ask about the exit in Spanish and assumed I was Spanish) and followed me. Well, we ended up who knows where and the police surrounded us. Of course, they don't speak English and none of my new Chinese friends speak Spanish (most speak a tiny bit of English). So I am trying to explain to the police that we are lost. Eventually they calm down and take us to passport control. We still don't know where our baggage is. I talk to the passport police, asking them to speak slowly. They proceed to joke and tell me that Americans who speak Spanish always speak too fast (complete with an impersonation). "No te preocupes!!!!!" Oh, how I missed that saying! As we were leaving i said my signature "No pasa nada," and the Spanish Guarda were rolling on the floor laughing!!!

Finally, we found the wayward group's guide and collect our luggage. All of the Chinese wanted their picture with me!!!!! So in many scrapbooks across China there will be photos of me with random Chinese tourists - puffy eyes and all!!!

Level -1?!?!  Really Spain?!?!?

My Last Diet Coke

I'm on my way to the airport, enjoying my final Diet Coke. Sadly, Espana has a lame Coca Cola Light. :(
Today was a slow day. I woke up late and repacked all of crap. I got down to just my backpack and my small backpack. Keep in mind the big backpack weighs at least 40 pounds. For those physical therapists out there, work on fixing my back after this trip!

I hopped on the tour bus, this time I knew when I wanted to take photos. I also got off at Christ Cathedral and Dublin Castle. I listened to the tour in Spanish, to hopefully prepare my brain for the impending onslaught.

Do Not Worry

Today (Thursday) I made myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich (yum!!!) and headed to Merrion Square.

Yummy!

James Joyce - Chillin' in Merrion Square

I sat and finished reading The Pilgrimage while eating my sandwich. Now, usually I am careful to spread peanut butter all the way to the crust. I don't like crust, but moms and teachers always say that is the healthy part. Well, I forgot to today. Since I'm trying to do what makes me happy, I didn't eat the crust! There were some pigeons hanging around, so I decided to feed them.

Immediately as I started feeding them, Matthew 6:25-27 popped in my head:

"Therefore, I tell you do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, why you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your lifespan?"

I worry about a lot of things. I started to worry that the hills in Northern Spain on the Camino de Santiago would be too steep. Those that ride with me know that i avoid hills like they are rabid USC fans! But does it do any good to worry? Nope. My legs are (literally) a medical feat (hahah...I crack myself up!). I am grateful for the strength that they have and where they have taken me. Part of the reason I love to ride my bike is that it is a time when I can feel the life and strength in my body. When I ride my bike, I feel very close to God. The flow of power in my legs and the thrill of feeling the wind passing and to know that my body is doing all of this reminds me of the power and grace of God. I will grasp on to that faith and feeling to carry me through those 8 days. ::end rant::

Recently, I've been worrying about choices I've made in the past and choices I will have to make in the future. I am trying to let go of the anxiety of these decisions and allow the Lord to provide for me.

Scariness outside the Guinness Storehouse

Entrance to St. Patrick's. Founded by Jonathan Swift

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Patrick's_Hospital

The home of the US Ambassador to Ireland - inside Phoenix Park

For those of you who are supposed to be studying for the PT boards....get to work!

Locked in a closet in Dublin

Since my flight doesn't depart until later, I asked the hotel if I could store my backpack somewhere. "Of course, right through that door!"
So I pushed open the door and found a place for my stuff amongst the luggage. All ready for a day in Dublin, I pushed on the door to leave. It didn't budge! What the %#^*€<~£^>?!!! I pushed again. I look for a handle. Nothing! I was locked in a closet!
After about ten minutes of trying to open the door an employer came in and I was freed! Seriously?!?! Who gets locked in a closet?!? Oh wait...ME!!!! Just like when I got locked in my own room!

Pretty sure Daphne was yelling or laughing at me!

Pictures

OK I can't figure out how to turn it the correct way.  Deal with it...

London Bridge

London Skyline at Night

For those guide dog people out there....and it's BLACK!  I saw a yellow lab too, but didn't get my camera out fast enough

At the Guinness Gravity Bar - not a very good picture, but I'm at the mercy of others taking pictures

I'm in the Dublin airport waiting for my flight to London.  I have posts written in my phone, but I'm not on my phone right now.  I'll leave London in the morning for Madrid and then take the train to Leon.  That is probably the next time I'll have internet!

Being Kind to Yourself

Being Kind to Yourself
"The only way to rescue our dreams is by being generous with ourselves. Any attempt to inflict self-punishment - no matter how subtle it may be - should be dealt with rigorously."

He then talks about turning spiritual pain into physical pain to deal with this (he suggests everytime you have a self-degrading thought, you dig your nail into the nail bed of your thumb; not sure how I feel about this!). Although I'm not convinced this does or doesn't work. I think it brings up a good point that really resonates with me. I have to live myself. Later in the book there is a prayer for all those that should be pitied. One of these groups is those of us who inflict pain of judgment upon ourselves. Realizing that God has counted every hair on our heads and knew us (and loved us) before we were formed makes this practice of self-hatred a task in ridiculousosity (for lack of a better word). If the Lord created us in his image and loves every part of us (even that darned curly part of my hair that never straightens and my messed up legs), then who am I to hate these things?

Dublin Day Two

I spent the day in Dublin. I saw the Book of Kells and the Long Room at Trinity College. I decided to pay to ride one of those hop on/hop off buses to save my tibia from cracking this Earl in the trip.
When it stopped raining for a bit, I went to St. Stephens Green and read and prayed for a little bit. My mind is starting to get cluttered again and I wanted it to be clear. Not sure I was so successful.

Strange sculpture in St. Stephen's Green

Entrance to St. Stephen's Green

So, if praying didn't work then maybe alcohol will?! Just kidding!! But I did go to the Guinness Storehouse next. It was amazing! I walked around the shrine to Irelands black gold in awe. The especially brilliant Arthur Guinness signed the lease for the land for 9000 years! I enjoyed my free Guinness at the top in the Gravity Bar.

Overlooking Dublin from the Sky Bar.

The clover in the head of my Guinness

Sky Bar

I tried to go to the Catholic Church that was just below the brewery, but it was locked.

I did some other random wanderings an then went to bed early. Trying not to break my leg...don't want Spain's medical system to freak out on me again!

Phoenix Park

I don't know how much Internet access I'll have after this. I leave Dublin tonight and fly to London. I'll stay in London and fly to Madrid early tomorrow morning. From Madrid I take a train to Leon where I will meet the rest of my group!

The Irish Stroller Gang

I almost forgot (even though I told myself not to!) about The Stroller Gang. I was on Grafton St., a main shopping area in Dublin, and heard all sorts of yelling. As I got closer to the yelling, I saw that it was coming from a large group of young girls with strollers. There were about ten teenage girls with their children in strollers. Not incredibly abnormal, but these girls were causing quite a ruckus. They were yelling at tourists and playing some sort of bumper car meets chicken game with their children in strollers.

Ya, I have no idea either...

One of my friends always says life isn't hard, we just don't always want to do what we know we should do (or something like that!).

Coehlo writes:
...we always know which is the best road to follow, but we follow only the road that we have become accustomed to.

In choosing (or discerning Gods will) I think these two things are alike. Choosing to fight the good fight isn't hard, but sometimes we don't want to do it. But we do always know what is the best road to follow. Choosing to do so, this is the good fight. Not allowing ourselves to get caught on the comfortable path, but choosing the right path. This is fighting the good fight.