isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

Author: isobel cunningham

  • After weeks and weeks of walking an average of 20 kilometres a day I suppose it is “normal” to feel restless. There are things I must do. I have to shop for food, take my jacket to the cleaners, take care of my plants before snow comes. To be fair I am surrounded by beauty…

  • I have post Camino blues. Negotiating the red tape and Covid details of getting into Canada was distracting but, let’s face it, shopping for food and going through the mail is boring. My body misses the long routine of walking, walking, climbing up slopes, stopping to rest or drink cafe con leche. The far horizon,…

  • I did my Covid test today. Well within the 72 hrs by my calculations. Now fingers crossed for a negative result! I feel fine and tramp around the city for hours. I must say I have never blown my nose so much since I walked into Galicia! People say allergies or the very damp climate.…

  • When I came into the Cathedral square on Sunday afternoon I was wet and cold. The sky was grey. The baroque roof line of the cathedral looked like an unfamiliar jumble to me. My Camino was over yet all I wanted to do was get into a warm shower and put on dry clothes. To…

  • Look what I got! Ok so forget all that pessimistic stuff from before! This totally makes up for it. I was told it was such a how do you do to get this thing but a kind young man filled out all the info and look, all done!

  • The day started well enough walking in pitch dark led by a Spanish family whose dad had a head lantern. He led the way and they could have been going to Santiago or New York for all I knew or cared as we stumbled through the dark wood. Dawn came of course as it does…

  • If all goes well I will walk 20 km into Santiago tomorrow. All during this walk, pilgrimage, endeavour, hike, I have never said I was going to Santiago. I know that stuff happens. Ankles get twisted, passports get lost, pilgrims get sick or discouraged. I took it one or two days at a time. I…

  • There was an octopus festival. It was a civic holiday and curiously that meant that until 3 pm the restaurant kitchens were closed. The sidewalk tables were full of people drinking but nary a morsel was to be had for a poor pilgrim. So I trudged on, having bought two horrid peaches and a large…

  • When I set off there was a thick mist and very little light. My albergue was once again out in the countryside and so I walked in obscurity until the sun came up. All morning it drizzled and it was off again, on again with the poncho. I was clammy and damp with sweat and…

  • Pouring rain to start off and mists over the fields. Well, that’s Galicia. Can’t be green without rain. Ponchos are a pain . They protect you from the wet but they retain body heat and the next stop is stripping off a few layers to stay comfortable. However by the time we had walked 5…