Last day

The photos speak for themselves, peaceful comtemplation before a return to the norm of our daily camino…

Penola magic, after reviving showers, drinks, a meal and a sound night’s sleep the next day started with our participation in the children’s mass, morning tea with the Sisters, a tour of the Centre and later the town… just before embarking on our mamoth trek home via buses and trains.

While in Penola we felt elated for our acheivement and a sense of sadness that we had reached an end…In fact it hit me when the bus entered the big smoke of Ballarat… we had just spent 9 days away from the everyday worries of our busy lives and now we were in amongst it again… it felt a little like a cold shower… a little shiver and I propelled myself forward to catch the train to Melbourne… we shared the last of our chocolate, big hugs and farewells at Southern Cross and swallowed back into the fray of suburban life.

Buen Camino, fellow pilgrims which ever road you traverse.

The last walking day… onward to Penola

A long 28 kilometres awaited us on what we hoped would be a cooler day. After all, a local had told us that a cool change was due around lunchtime… but the road and the day would reveal itself in due course and we would try to cope.

The day would see us walk along tracks, limestone roads, railway tracks and finally a main road into Penola.

The outstanding feature of the day for me was the heat… at first, the cloud cover and coolish breeze helped in maintaining a decent pace, even the stones and irregular spacing of the sleepers didn’t seem to faze us and the tiger snake sheltering along the steel rail was sent packing by the very surprised advance parties.

The heat though seemed to affect everyone. Despite carrying 3 litres of water each, most were out with 5 kms to go. At the 22km mark I was walking from one area of shade to the next, trying to cool down and get that bit closer to our destination.

After a kilometre or two along the main road I was so hot I accepted a lift into town on the back of a ute. A kind potato farmer, stopped, enquired about the state I was in and loaded me on the ute… thus 2 aussie camino walkers entered the town of Penola to the amazement of pilgrims and locals alike.

Kalangadoo… is that a real place?

Kalangadoo was a familiar name as Bill and I had followed the radio broadcast on 774, “Letters from Kalangadoo”, years ago and had assumed it a fictitious name. Yet, here it was, our destination for the day.

Fearing more hot weather, We were all keen to make an early start… not as early as Bill misreading the 5 for a 6 am wake-up! All good in the end as it afforded us a 7:30 start and managing over half the distance before it got hot.

We travelled through amazing countryside, admiring the spectacularly carved trees, notecing the dryness and hoping that the rain would come to bless the land and miss drenching us pilgrims.

We made good time and entered a town that has seen better days… we were made more than welcome in the General Store, the proprietor happy for us to wait out the afternoon in her shop till we could access our accomodation…

Here we heard stories of hardships, dwindling population and efforts to revitalize the town’s community spirit. This evident also in our hosts and the ladies who organised for a cooked breakfast and prepared lunch rolls.

Nothing could have been more heartening than their genuine interest in our well-being and our reasons for undertaking the pilgrimage.

Mount Gambier to Bushhaven Cottages… heat, water and the irrepressible landscape.

Mount Gambier proved to be our (or should I say, my) nemisis… half way to our destination, most of the difficult and longer stretches behind us topped off with a sleep in and a later start, who could have asked for more…

I had not counted on a near sleepless night; mainly caused by my recurring sore knee, hips and back, but also a throbbing, black, big toe that had developed over the last two days. After a failed attempt at bandaging and making the toe as comfortable and pain free as possible, I first ventured out to replenish diminishing supplies and whatever was needed for the coming night’s bbq meal, and finding the going tough, resorted to hunting down medical aid. To cut a long story short… one of those miracles finally came my way via Meredith and Simon, locals who offered to give me a lift to a Podiatrist, again Mother Mary of the Cross must have been on my side because a spot was made for me to be seen… 30 minutes, lanced and properly bandaged toe later saw me re-join the group in time for our start.

The going wasn’t easy, we were heading out of town, so plenty of tar and cement… rolling hills, not a hint of a cool breeze and the hot sun pounding down on us. Bill and I made slow progress but kept the group in sight. Later in the afternoon, we came across the pine plantations which gave us a welcome respite from the sun.

Of limestone, paddocks and games

A longish day awaited us today leaving Port Mac and making our way to Mount Gambier, approximately 28 kms, 24 kms to the Icecreamery and at times it was the only thing that kept us going…. that and a fabulous sunrise.

The walk was pleasant, cloud cover and a breeze kept us cool and most of us made it to shelter in time to shelter from the dust storm.

The path gave us the opportunity to talk as we walked and appreciate the limestone and paddocks on either side of us.

The icecream was everyone’s favourite as was the commaraderie that followed in the evening… good food, some wine and a game made everyone forget their aches and pains…

just about everyone has blisters, a few bad knees, hips or backs, and a few more with tummy bugs and to endit all … I have a black big toe-nail.

Shorter distance tomorrow, so later start.

Day 4 on the way to Nelson, walking quietly with God

Today started with lots of promise, a bus ride to lake Mombeong, a short jaunt to the cliffs, a cliff-top walk, a long barefoot beach walk and a short walk along a bitumen road into Nelson.

The promise was made even sweeter by the fact that we had no time constraints… I had already made up my mind that I would try to stop every 2-3 hours, just as I had done last year in Spain, a fellow pilgrim was in agreement so we plodded along for most of the day…

This gave us the opportunity to enjoy the vistas, complete with both fauna and flora… we spotted emus from the bus, then kangaroos, swallows, seaguls, seals, magpies and the obligatory snake… yes, I spotted it out of the corner of my eye, just after I had passed it by.

The views from the cliff tops were spectacular, blue, teal, acqua-marine, never-ending, thunderous, rolling waves and once we reached the beach the sound was all engulfing… you raised your eyes to the perfectly whispy cloud dotted sky and just knew or rather felt the presence of God.

The mental and physical difficulties of the previous days had brought me to this point; enjoying the moment for what it was… beauty created from nothing was all around me… and I was very blessed.

Day 5 – Port Macdonnel… fishing centre

Today was disapponiting for me as a bad knee, coupled with complaining hips, bad back and the odd blister forced me to have a rest day. It was the necessary and best thing to do, yet seeing the group walking off this morning actually brought tears to my eyes. Everyone was empathetic, gave me a hug and reassuringly told me to get better so I could keep walking the next day.

The past three walking days had tested everyone’s abilities, the uneven terrain and the sporadically changing gradations made it impossible for anyone to maintain a rythm and I was finding it more than a challenge to last the distance… the last 5 kms or so seemed to never end, and when we stopped the aches and pains set in… all of us walking like really old, bent over, doubled-up people… enjoying each other’s company with a well deserved drink.

Today I learnt or rather re-learned that I cannot control everything, that life has a way of getting in the road of the goals you set yourself and that just because I thought I was ready doesn’t actually turn out that way.

Acceptance and trusting in the day’s events and in the people around me, not to mention the fact that God is always with us, supporting, guiding, loving. I am not always open to this, but the road, the Camino certainly provides the lessons… you do not walk the Camino, the Camino walks you.

Moonscapes…

Just as predicted, even though we hobbled up to bed after an amazing meal and felt every aching muscle, bone and ligament, we were all up, bright and bushy tailed… breakfast and hit the road… Bridgewater to Bridgewater Lakes, not far… no walking on sand, just this climb up to the GSW trail… and boy did that turn out to be a climb… in a few minutes we were all in a sweat, and despite the promise of an easier walk…. there was more to climb, steps up and steps down, undulating paths (some with sand, some with straw, some with sea eroded stones and boulders), all along the cliffs.

To the left an “epic ocean” which made me think of us hanging on to land by the tips of our fingers, hoping not to fall away to the south… To the right coastal greenery of varying shades with the odd kangarro or two poking its head out above the bushes watching these strange beings plodding across their view, the occasional bit of farmland protected by electric fences and rock formations which resembled a moonscape, parts of which were the Petrified Forrest.

Our eyes were often drawn from the path (we had to be careful lest we place a wrong footfall and end up with an injury) to the ocean hoping to spot a blue right whale (rumoured to still be in the area) and spent time observing seals, swallows and seagulls.

The kms were fewer, the weather very pleasant, the cup of tea much needed and appreciated, the finish sweet as it gave us some much needed recuperation time.

The stand out feature for me was the constant pounding of the waves, at times so thunderous that all you could do was to give yourself over to thàt all encompassing sound and forget the aches and pains and the busy life left behind.

The lighthouse…

The walking starts, everyone eager to start and after a tour and a history at All Saints, it was time to get on the bus to the lighthouse for morning tea and what turned out to be a photo shoot for an article in the Australian. Though excited about our very own 15 minutes of fame, it set the starting time back and subsequently made us walk into Cape Bridgewater in the dark… The day was very long. The way very tough. The terrain though not overly difficult, kept changing at what seemed uneven intervals, so as soon as we felt like we were in a rhythm, it would change and we would have to re-adjust stride and way of walking to fit the demands of the track.

It was another type of ball game all together when we hit the beach for the 5km stretch that we had to traverse before climbing back into the sand dunes and across the hilltops… all before our scheduled (lunch) stop. How could such a beautifully breathtaking view hold such torturous progress?… The sand was either too soft or soggy… walking on firmer sand involved taking shoes and socks off and risk the fast incoming waves which at times were thigh high… something I was not willing to risk and I did not want to expend the extra energy taking off and putting on socks and shoes….

As it turned out, I needed all my energy to finish the day’s walk, there were more climbs, more steps, gentle but challenging downward slopes, a long trail through the bush in the fading light and a stretch of road in the dark. I acheived the last leg on a wing (wishing I had some!) and a prayer, fortified by a cup of tea and chocolate.

I don’t know how I finished the 27kms… but the spa bath, the welcome and care we received from our host Dennis made it worthwhile… well…

Wonder how we will fair on the morrow….

Melbourne to Portland

The first day of our Aussie Camino and I am full of trepidation… will I be able to keep up with the group? Am I ready for the long walk? Am I ready for the transformative experience everyone seems to talk about and expect? What if nothing happens? Or changes? I am plagued with uncertainties, I feel I should be more certain, more positive because of last year’s Camino… Yet, each journey starts with the first step and it is always difficult… I know not what awaits me, I know not what to expect.

This morning we celebrated Mass as a group and the priest told us that a pilrimage has nothing to do with the destination and everything to do with the journey… the journey today was a series of meeting others, travelling on the train to Warnambool and bus to Portland… rather long and tiring… all part of the journey.

The highlight was a surprise meet up with fellow Camino pilgrims who live in Warnambool and came to the station before we piled onto the bus