Show Me The Way

I'm directionally challenged.  If you're giving me directions I need left or right. North, south, east, west?  Means nothing to me.  I don't do too bad in familiar places -- as long as the place is small, I can relate to landmarks. Where I live the river is to the west so everything is in relation to the river. But put me somewhere I've never been and I have no idea which direction I'm facing. Unless it's sunrise or sunset.  At high noon, I'm hopeless.  So how did a directionally challenged girl hope to walk across northern Spain?

Getting off the bus in St Jean Pied de Port, France, I simply followed the rest of the back packs to the pilgrim office.  And for the first part of the Camino that was all I had to do.  There was always a steady stream of pilgrims to assure me I was going the right way.  But as the days passed and the pilgrims started to spread out it wasn't unusual to spend many hours walking without seeing a single other person.  But I'm happy and proud to report that I didn't get lost once, not even a teeny little bit.  Oh, one morning in the total darkness I headed off on my own and decided after about a kilometre that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't on the right path.  I started walking back the way I came until I saw the approaching head lamps confirming I was on the right track after all.

It's really quite impressive how well the Way is marked.  Sure, there are lots of sections where getting lost is simply not an option.  I mean, if this is the view in front and behind you, just where exactly are you going to make a wrong turn?










Big cities were a bit tricky.  You had to keep your eyes down and watch for the brass shells...

There were a lot of "official" markers.  Some old...

...some new...

...and sometimes enterprising pilgrims took matters into their own hands.

But it was the yellow arrow that brought comfort and relief just when you were thinking you must have screwed up somewhere...

The most amazing thing about the yellow arrows?  Someone has to maintain them, make sure they are visible, repainted as needed.  Who does this?  And consider this -- pilgrims rely on these arrows to make their way to Santiago de Compostela.  What's to stop marauding bands of vandals armed with yellow spray paint from wrecking havoc?  I mean, seriously -- what could be more entertaining than watching unsuspecting pilgrims wandering in circles? Ending up in Madrid or Barcelona.

That this doesn't happen, speaks volumes.

Book Review:  I'm sure there is no one, in the reading population at least, who does not know that Robert Galbraith is the pseudonym for JK Rowling of Harry Potter fame.  Being a huge fan of all things Potter, it was a no-brainer that I would read whatever came next.  After being disappointed with The Cuckoo's Calling, the first in the Cormoran Strike series, I was a bit reluctant to read number two, The Silkworm.  But I have to say I enjoyed it much more than the first and Strike is starting to grow on me.  I like that Galbraith has given him a huge handicap to deal with, his having lost a leg in Afghanistan. But the head hopping between the main characters -- sometimes within the same paragraph -- drives me nuts.  And when he/she slips into the omniscient narrator voice?  Well, don't get me started.