Estella

I´m in love with Estella, but first, the walk here. It was long (14 miles) and hot. This is certainly an agricultural area with hazelnut trees, grapes of more varieties (some ripe!--a farmer handed a bunch to several of us who passed). I bought a vine-ripened tomato that was tangy and full of juice--not exactly your grocery fare. An observation: siesta is a wonderfull civilized custom. In the small town of Lorca, I was taking a break, eating an apple, and watching a grandmother harvest ripe tomatoes from her garden. The chapel bell rang two, and that was it--she stopped, walked over to a folding chair, unfolded it, put a scarf over her face, and went to sleep. This is going to be my office routine when I return (don´t ask how this´ll be different from my office hours before I left!).

Anyway, Estella. Not only does it have a great museum and three historic churches, but it was the 12th century Palace of the Kings of Navarre. I spent an afternoon just touring and taking pictures. At night, I stayed at a Hostelia on the Plaza de los Fueros. It turned into a Rick Steves moment--by eight o´clock, the plaza was alive with walking couples, kids playing soccer, babies on display, toddlers trying to escape from their parents, and older men arguing or playing dominoes. The cafes were bustling, an ice cream booth was busy, and one guy just strolled around playing his accordion and singing. I went to bed, but the party went on. In the morning, the plaza was transformed. Thursday is market day, and the entire square was filled with farmers, vinters, florists, honey gatherers, baked goods, and candy makers. I strolled though the tight lanes being offered tastes of everything good in Navarre (I could have bought jar after jar of honey). I wish I could stay until next Thursday--the town hosts an annual Ancient Music Festival starting one week from tonight. But I´m walking on.

High Plains Drifter

I know, that´s the name of a Clint Eastwood movie, but it seems appropriate. I walked from Pamplona to Puerte de Reina today--and from one geographic world to another. I climbed 240 meters to the top of a hill that looked backward to Pamplona and the Pyenees and forward onto Spain´s arid, high plain. The ridge was lined with hundereds of giant wind mills (the small ones aren´t much good). Walking down onto the floor of the plain, I immediately noticed the heat of Spain´s bright Mediterranian sun and the wind whipped swirls of dust around me. I couldn´t help myself, Jeff; I broke into song: ¨A-way out West, they got a name / For wind and rain and fi-re . . . .¨ No kidding. Well, I´m-a singin´cowboy! They grow almonds here--I´d never seen almond trees. They look like stubby, long-leaved, peach trees you´d see in Mineral Wells, but there are little fuzzy, green bunches of almonds at the ends of branches. Dianna, there were fields of giant sun flowers--apparently a variety of nuts are grown here (some just walk through). With the sandy soil, this is also the heart of Spain´s northern wine country, so there were lots of grape vines, but the grapes were still young--like little green peas still forming on the vine.

One really notable stop. I had to take a 2.5 kilometer detour to see the chapel at Eunate. It´s a small, stand-alone chapel that was built perhaps in the 12th century in the ¨Crusader Style¨--that means it had eight sides and was domed rather than vaulted. It´s attributed to the Knights Templar who came about that time to begin guarding the Camino. Small, but really an amazing place with polished alabaster windows rather than stained glass (colored glass wasn´t in style yet). Frightful, carved faces overlooked the alter--would have put the fear of God in anyone (even Mark Coley). Now I´m in another hostel where the showers are good, but the computer screen is fuzzy and barely readable. I hearby renounce all mistakes, spelling or grammar, on this installment. Pressing on tomorrow.

¨. . . and they call the wind, Mariah!¨

Pamplona--No Bull

Aaaaahhhh, now this is why I came. I spent an entire day exploring the city. I fed my penchant for history by visiting the Museo de Navarra and touring the city´s old northeastern fortifications (against French incursion) and its centralcitadell (built in 1666 in the "modern" style like a pentagle) which today is a beautiful park. I visited three churches ranging from the medieval to the cathedral, the porch of which was only just finished around 1700 (practically new!). For my literary self, I followed the footsteps of Hemingway. I went to the Plaza del Castillo where he loved to sit. His hotel, the Gran Hotel, was undergoing renovation, but the Waldorf bar is just next door. I ordered a wine and toasted to his memory thus:

I sat in a chair warmed by the afternoon sun. The day was bright, but the breeze was cool. I ordered a light red wine with water. The water came with little cubes of ice clinking against the glass. I mixed the wine with a little water. It was sweet and fine. Old men strolled quietly by, phantoms of the past. Two chipeddlededaled frantically on small bicycles. One older girl, too old to play, was turning round and round a nearby lamp post. There were no bulls.

How´s that for my Hemingway imitation? Anyway, I walked from the Plaza del Castillo to the Plaza del Toros and had my picture made beside the street named for the guy. There´s a huge bronze bust of Hemingway near where the bulls are run down the ramp into the ring. To say that Pamplona is beautiful doesn´t even approach the grand vistas of the foothills that surround the city of 200,000. The city is wonderfully provincial; that is, unlike London, there isn´t a McDonalds, a Pizza Hut, or a Burger King in sight. Each little cafe carries its own menu. I had lunch off the Plaza de Vinculo where a corner cafe offered three choices for "tapas." I took the one that had turkey--what I received were two little buns piled with potato salad, lettuce, a slice of turkey, and a sliced, boiled egg--sooo tasty! It was served with a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Just before two o´clook, I stopped for a chocolate treat in a pastry shop. At two sharp, all the little shops roll their gates down and don´t reopen until four (or 4:15). Pamplona is a lovely city with gardens and plazas and just the right mix of bustle, charm, and relaxation.

This morning, I´m on my way Puente la Reina, 24 kilometers away. I hate to leave Pamplona, but the Camino calls.

Ups and Downs

I have two days of catching up to do. I left Roncevaux (Spanish, Roncesvalles) with the expectation of enjoying walking down rather than up. Sure. A topographical map (that I didn´t see until I arrived in Zubiri, 23 kilometers away) indicated that I had indeed walked downward more than 3000 meters; however, I also walked upward 1500 meters. And these paths are just not fair--you have a long, hard upward climb with the expectation of a similar downslope. Instead, you get a percipitous fall, down a water-washed slope on which you can barely keep your feet. Then you go up again.

Nevertheless, the way is fun. I actually fell into a group whose pace matched mine--a couple from French Canada and a 67-year-old woman from West Cork, Ireland. We stopped at a bar in Burguete so I could have a drink (just water) in a bar in which Hemingway stayed while writing part of The Sun Also Rises. He actually signed and dated (25/7/23) the piano in the bar; when I tried to take a picture, the woman behind the bar threatened to set her dog on me. I settled for a snap of the bar outside. Outside of Burguete, we entered one of the only beechwood forests remaining in the world. The beech trees closed hard upon the trail--their bark was white, dappled with spots of brown and green. The latter half of the trip to Zubrini really was treacherous. It drizzled most of the morning, so by afternoon, the downslopes were dangerous. We came upon a trio of cyclists, one of whom had fallen and destroyed his bike (to say nothing of the fact that they were trying to wrap several places on his body). Going into Zubrini, you cross over a medieval bridge called Puente de la Rabia. According to legend, crossing over the bridge prevents rabies--my students are now completely safe from my bite.

On the next day, I walked from Zubiri to Pamplona. I stopped to see a 12th century chruch in Larasoaña--very beautiful. In fact, the walk itself was "fine"--to use Hemingwayesque verbage. The Pyrenees began to tire and fell more into a series of hills. Every now and then a granite outcropping on a peak seemed to represent the mountains still showing their teeth. I stopped for lunch (and apple and an orange) on a high pasture and watched the sheep. Coming into Pamplona, the trail had one more surprize for us--the Montes Nerval y Miravalles--two hills that wore everyone out until we finally staggered into the city´s western suburb. Tomorrow, I´m taking a whole day just to visit historic sites and the museums of Pamplona. ¡Buen Camino!

Soy en España!--Orisson to Rouncevaux

So, I was talking to my friend Jim Lawrence a couple of weeks ago, and he asks, ¨How high are the Pyrenees?¨ I mentioned that the first day´s climb will be over 3300 feet--going over 4000 before I start back down the next day. Jim looks at me agog: ¨Have you ever hiked elevations!?¨ ¨No,¨ I casually reply, ¨but I´ve been practising on Camp Wisdom.¨ Boy am I stupid. Jim, you were right. I nearly died in the climb to Orisson--beautiful scenery aside. I ran out of water, and the final couple of kilometers (the hike was about 8 miles) nearly killed me. But the scenery was beautiful. Rolling hills and sharp granite peaks were dotted with cattle and sheep. Corn grew on nearly impossible downslopes--and everything was lush and green. Why? Because it rains at least once most days. Of course, it started just when I was a mile or so from Orisson--and it got cold; I could see my breath before me as I climbed. I was never so happy to find a bed in my life.

A brief aside: before you think that I am heroic in making the climb despite the elevation and the weather, consider that I was outpaced by a grandmother from Canada. And by a couple from Germany. And by a group of kids from France. Oh, yes, and by just about everybody else. I don´t know if it´s just me, or maybe Americans should get out and walk a little more often.

The hike to Rouncevaux was nothing short of tedious. While yesterday I at least had the beautiful scenery, today we had heavy fog and a steady, frequently heavy, rain. I couldn´t risk taking out my camera when I passed the frontier marker into Spain. Nevertheless, the 11th century chapel and the 13th century church of Saint Mary at Rouncevaux are beautiful--even in the persistent drizzle. There is no town here--only the buildings associated for 1000 years with the pilgrim trail; Rouncevaux was the junction of several other trails from throughout Europe. I managed several pictures of the monestary and of the stone commemorating the death of the French hero, Roland, in 788--they claim to have the very stone on which he broke his trumpet, Oliphant (see the Song of Roland, folks). The hostel here is in a part of the old church buildings. All very historic, but the truth is that, right now, all I can think about is DINNER!

p.s. Everyone is so wonderfully caring. We help each other completing little cleaning chores, lifting backpacks onto bunk beds, or with uplifting words of encouragement. The world should be so nice elsewhere.

FRANCE!

Well, I finally found internet access. Yes, I´m in France. I landed in Biarritz about 4 o´clock, and caught a bus to Bayonne. I bought a train ticket to St. Jean Pied-de-port, and had three great hours to hang in Bayonne. I visited the Cathedral there--very beautiful on the interior, but the exterior facades had been destroyed during the French Revolution (you may know that the revolutionaries didn´t take kindly to the church´s support of the aristocracy). Bayonne sits astride a river with a beautiful river walk (a real river--not exactly like San Antonio). I wish I could load pictures, but so far none of the computers allow access.

Anyway, I road the train into the Pyrenees and to St. Jean, arriving a little after 10 at night. I was very lucky to find a hostel still open and with one spot left. In the morning I awoke to view a small, Medieval town. It´s really astounding--this town guarded the pass (the Pas du Napoleon!) between France and Spain for 1,000 years. The four town walls were erected between 1100 and 1200. All four gates still exist; one even still has the original timbers and iron work. One wall traces along the river Nive; the first bridge over the river (12th century) served pilgrims for 900 years. There was a citadel that sits within the walls overlooking the pass. Its original walls and building were 14th century, but they had been improved in the 17th and early 18th centuries. Hey, Chuck and John--you´d have loved touring the citadel--the ¨new¨construction was added to funnel attackers down walled corridors where they would have been vulnerable from both sides. It´s just like a citadel described in a Sharpe novel! The church, that is part of the actual wall and pilgrim gate, was built in the 14th century. It was simple, but beautiful with three panels of stained glass mostly in red. I lit two candles during the pilgrim mass--one for myself and one for my family.

Finally, I have to add a word about my first hostel--wonderful! Two Dutch brothers ran the place (very new--built in 1696), and one, Klaus, gave me lots of much-needed information (I sent 3.3 kilos of unnecessary junk home at the post office). Klaus was kind and helpful; he won my instant affection when at breakfast he was playing a CD of the Cantigas de Santa Maria. No one leaves Klaús´hostel without a hug, a little card with a devotional poem, and a sincere ¨buen Camino!¨ I´m making the first mountain stage to Orisson.

A Moonlight Night in London

One final day in London--just one day. What could I possibly do? Well, I went to Parliament, saw Big Ben and Victoria's Tower, walked around the Tower fortress and across the Tower Bridge, spent two hours in the National Gallery and an hour at the Tate, walked from the Queen's guard past Admiralty Arch to Trafalgar Square (got a picture of Nelson, Chuck--he's still up there!). After visiting the National Gallery, I went across the street to duck in to the Church of St. Martin-of-the-Fields--a pilgrimage to classical music lovers everywhere. While there, I noticed a posting that they still had tickets to tonight's concert--only 8£ (that's about fifteen bucks!). Thus it is that I have only just left a piano concert by Sam Haywood. He began with Mozart's "Sonata in A," then moved to Chopin's "Polonaise in A flat." As he played the "Nocture in C Sharp," the house lights began to fade. Ushers went around lighting candles, afterwhich Haywood concluded with Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." The cliche "it was a magical evening" only begins to touch upon my joy to sit in St. Martin-in-the-Fields and listen to a little Beethoven by candlelight. Well, I'd better catch a bus back to my hotel and get ready for a travel day. By this time tomorrow, I should be in St. Jean Pied-de-Port in Southern France.

I'm in LONDON!

The title says it. I endured a 10-hour, overnight flight on British Airways and arrived at 8:10 in the morning on Monday fortified by 45 minutes sleep. I found the Gatwick Express train to Victoria Station and booked a room in a dive of a hotel that is just a block from Hyde Park. Now seriously, can ANY hotel be that bad if you're in the center of London. On my Underground trip over, I passed Notting Hill Station--Hugh Grant was not available. I caught a quick two-hour nap, and now I need an early dinner and I'm off to explore. Can't wait! Can't write any more! Two days--so much to see before my flight to Biarritz!

Saying "Thank You"

Well, I'm packing today, and I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks to Chancellor De la Garza and to the Board for offering this opportunity. Thanks to my colleagues Chuck Hope and John Perkins who sent me to study at UNT, and to my professors at UNT--Drs. Morris, Stern, and Turner--who informed and inspired this trip. Thanks to good friends Mark Coley and Jeff Nelms who supported the effort and to campus administrators Dr. Judith Carrier and Josue Munoz who advised on the application. A special thanks to Ivan Mino who taught me a little Spanish over the summer.

And, of course, a thank you and farewell to all my family--especially to my parents, and Elaine, Kathleen and Jonathan who helped get me ready. And Thanks to Dianna who is letting me go on this trip--you toiled over all the details. Wherever I go, you are always with me.

I'm a pretty thankful and lucky guy to be surrounded by so many people who share their gifts with me.

Getting Ready for Santiago

Okay, so I needed some stuff. How hard could it be?--some boots, a pack, a sleeping roll. You know--stuff. Well, I had no idea. Consider this: boots. The first sales guy I visited said, "Well, you have to have all leather boots for such a long trip." Another said, "You got to get the 'vibram' sole." Another said, "Get the Gortex GTX--it breathes better." And, of course, another cautioned, "Whatever you do, don't get the all leather boots." I was shown three different ways of tying the laces on the boots by three different people--all of whom insisted that their way was the only way to tie laces. Packs. You can't get just any pack; you have to get a 55 to 80 liter pack with a padded waist strap. I went to three different stores. Everyone agreed, the best pack was the Osprey--made in Utah where the mountains are. So I asked them each, "Do you own an Osprey pack?" All three replied "NO!--they're too expensive!" ($390) All three owned a "Mars" pack from REI outfitters ($199). I bought one. I'll just give you one more taste--socks. You can't just wear plain, white gym socks. You have to have special hiking socks. But it doesn't stop there. Some people swore by "Smart Wool" socks. Others claimed that acrylic is the only way to go. Still others advised "Thorlo"--a blend, of course. A guy at Whole Earth on Mockingbird confirmed that only a fool would walk without socks woven with silver threads--no, really--silver. And you have to have sock liners to "wick" away your sweat. By the way, everything has to "wick"--your outer clothing, your socks, your underwear--no kidding, your underwear. Including my Canon 7.1 megapixel camera (don't ask about the other suggested cameras), I've spent close to $2000. Do you think the Medieval pilgrims needed so much stuff?

Surely the walking won't be this confusing.

Walking 500 Miles

For those of you who got bored reading the previous posting, here is the short version:

Basic Fact Sheet

1. Pilgrimage is a primary motif in all literature—additionally, every major world religion includes a pilgrimage as an element of worship or ritual.

2. In order of numbers of Medieval pilgrims, the four most visited pilgrim sites were
i. Jerusalem
ii. Rome, Italy
iii. Compostella de Santiago, Spain
iv. Canterbury, England

3. The popularity of pilgrimage soared in Medieval Europe when the Pope offered special Indulgences (release time from Purgatory) in the Jubilee Year of 1300.

4. Santiago is named for Saint James, whose relics are interred under the cathedral located there. According to 2nd century belief, he visited Spain early in his work.

5. Saint James is reputed to have been martyred in Jerusalem, but according to local legend, his bones were returned and buried in a secret location in Spain.

6. In the ninth century, a local Spaniard had a vision of a star over the plain (in Spanish, compostela, “the plain of the star”) indicating that Saint James was rising to fight off Moorish occupiers—Santiago Matamoros (Saint James the Moor Slayer) is supposed to have subsequently appeared at the battle of Clavijo (844 BCE) that led to the reconquista of Spain. And yes, Matamoros, Mexico takes its name from St. James.

7. The 12th century confraternity of the Knights Templar claimed to have discovered secret documents in Jerusalem concerning the exact whereabouts of James’ grave in Spain. They began the cathedral and opened the camino to pilgrims.

8. In 1307, the Catholic Chruch banned the Templars and the Hospitallers of St. John (a French group associated with the French papacy) took over operation of the camino.

9. In 1987, the Camino was declared the first European Cultural Route by the Council of Europe and is traveled by thousands of mostly-European travelers per year.

10. I GET TO GO!

Why Santiago?

When I first heard about Tarrant County College's Faculty Development Leave (FDL), I was interested, but skeptical. After all, could a school really pay an employee to take a semester or two just to explore specific elements of a discipline, travel, or investigate teaching methods or ideas? Well, the answer is "yes." After talking with Pam Benson and other friends about their FDL's, I began working on my own idea. Below are excerpts from my FDL application describing the intent and scope of my trip to Santiago.

Brief Description
In the 12th century manuscript called Codex Calixtinus, Aimery Picaud outlines the journey from England to the third most important religious shrine in Europe, Santiago de Compostela, Spain. I plan to retrace the steps of Medieval pilgrims who traveled by the tens of thousands each year to religious shrines usually associated with saints’ lives, relics, or secular spiritual advisors called anchorites and anchoresses. I will visit sites in England, particularly the church of St. Julian in Norwich which is the location associated with the 14th century author, Julian of Norwich, whose autobiography is the first book written by an English woman. I’ll trace the steps of the Canterbury pilgrims in their ride from Southwark in London to the shrine of Thomas Becket in Canterbury as described in Chaucer. Then, I will cross over into France and use the route suggested by the Association Normande des Amis de Saint Jacques—from Dieppe to Rouen to Charters through Bordeaux to St. Jean Pied de Port at the foothills of the Pyrenees. From there I will walk as did the medieval peregrinos (pilgrims) the 500 miles from St. Jean Pied de Port to Santiago de Compostela.

Objectives of Proposal
I teach the sister disciplines of literature and history. This leave is intended to allow me the opportunity to explore, first hand, several literary and historical sites—to experience some of western writers’ most profound influences. The objectives fall into five clear areas:
1) Explore sites associated with world and British literature that are represented in the texts I use in class. Julian of Norwich, Margery Kempe, Geoffrey Chaucer, the stories of El Cid, the Song of Roland, and many other works are indelibly attached to the locations on my itinerary. The pilgrimage was the quintessential experience of the lay piety movement in Europe. Major works in the British and World Literature texts relate experiences from this movement, including the first works by women writers in Europe.
2) Gain an understanding of the hardships associated with traveling the sorts of distances endured in the past. By reenacting the journey along the Camino de Santiago, I hope to place myself more in contact with the every-day world of the ancient and medieval people who took these trips, wrote travelogues, and developed the stories our students read in class. I want to better understand the motivations of medieval pilgrims and to relate to the journey as a literary motif. Almost every epic, from the Odyssey to the Song of Hiawatha, has the journey as an integral element; clearly, in an age of rapid transit, understanding this motif becomes increasingly difficult.
3) Research original materials available in European repositories. I plan to access medieval sources unavailable in the United States. Specifically, I am working on early works by women writers whose pilgrim experiences form the first efforts at developing biography and narrative. This should be a unique opportunity to review several travelogues and diaries held at locations along my trip.
4) Compile a usable digital photographic record of historic/literary sites. I want to develop power point presentations using photos of the trip to enliven class discussions of literature. Sites along the route range widely from Roman to Medieval to Early Modern. Indeed, I teach literature in World Lit. I and II and in British Lit. I and II that ranges equally from Silver Age writers in ancient Rome to Medieval writers to modern.
5) Familiarize myself with the joys and rigors of European travel. I would like to lead student groups on trips to locations that have clear application to the material covered in my classes. I would like to explore the tomb of El Cid, the valley of Roland, the Canterbury cathedral or the Moorish castle of Calavijo in order to access the viability of bring students to these locations to augment their understanding of literature, history, and world culture.

Proposed Activities
1) Fall Semester—I will actually complete the second half of the trip first in order to avoid the spring rainy season in Spain. On Sunday, August 20th, I will fly into London, explore the city for a couple of days, then take Ryanair to Biarritz on the Atlantic coast of France and take a bus to St. Jean Pied de Port in southwestern France where I will apply for my official credencial—a document that must be stamped at each stop along the way. From there I will walk the 12th century route of the Camino de Santiago; the actual trip should take about 45 days. Literally, every day will involve a stop at a historic site. The first stop will be at the Capilla de Santiago, a 13th century Romanesque chapel in Roncesvalles (see Chaucer’s description of the Pardoner in The Prologue to The Canterbury Tales). From there I will follow the route Napoleon’s armies also took into Spain during the Peninsular Campaign by traversing the province of Navarra (Basque territory and the home of Pamplona—made famous in America in the stories of Ernest Hemingway). There is not adequate space here to summarize the historic/literary sites available as I cross the Roman bridge over the rio Ebro, though Burgos, Sahagun, Leon, Ronferrada and into Santiago. Sites vary from the via Trajanos, the 2nd century Roman road, to 8th century Moorish castles to 18th century English monastic exiles’ dwellings. After exploring the shrine of Santiago and visiting the cloisters for research, I plan to sail, as did many English pilgrims, back to Portsmouth via the ferry from El Ferrol.
2) Spring Semester—I will essentially explore the first half of the journey. I’ll fly into London and spend some time at the British Museum. I’m interested in researching medieval pilgrim journals and 17th century women writers whose works are available there. Next, I plan to visit central and eastern England, following a trail that leads through Oxford to Norwich in Norfolk. As time allows, I’d also like to go the Lincoln and York; the cathedrals and university libraries there house significant legal documents dating from the late 8th century. Then, I’ll return to London for the trip to Canterbury, cross the channel to Dieppe where I’ll pick up the traditional pilgrim trail from Rouen to St. Jean Pied de Port. Again, as time permits I’d like to take a side trip to Mont Saint-Michel as suggested by the Association Les Chemins de Mont Saint-Michel.
3) In the time between the two trips, I will develop power point presentations for my use in class instruction. Additionally, I will be editing a pair of papers for submission to conference and publication. One paper concerns the development of English vernacular literature as a bi-product of pilgrim experiences and as a reaction to the sale of indulgences. The second is a more ambitious project exploring the development of a writer’s voice among English women who validated their writing by placing it in the context of religious narratives.

Immediate and long-range benefits.
Immediately, I expect to develop a new level of expertise and an awareness of global issues that I can bring back to the classroom. Additionally, the pictures and descriptions that I will make available not only to my students but also to my colleagues should augment the experience of merely reading words from dry pages. I want to enliven these narratives by mixing in my own narrative. Of course, I also expect to complete two papers worthy of conference presentation and, hopefully, publication.
Long range, I expect to lead student groups to Europe. I am well aware of the recent interest in expanding classrooms to incorporate global interaction. There seems no better way to excite interest in such matters than by devoting time to leading students to experience life in other countries first hand. Also, of course, my academic research in English women’s writing is strongly tied to the pilgrim experience; women develop as writers only as they relate to religious ideas and often in spite of the “advice” of men.

This is my opening entry to my blog. My elder daughter, Kathleen, who is responsible for setting this up, is far more excited than I am. What I am most excited about is that my departure for London, France, and Spain is a week and a day away. Tarrant County College has entrusted me with a Faculty Development Leave that brings me close to sources I have only researched from afar.