NEWSLETTER 2010-02-19
EASTER PILGRIMAGE CHALLENGE –
Walking 1,000 miles of Europe for
PRECIOUS LIVES APPEAL
To build ‘Little Harbour’s’
Children’s Hospice for Cornwall
Robin Moore who recently returned from South Africa where he walked the Wine Lands for Mbekweni Township in Paarl (see below on previous newsletter), is ready for his latest challenge: the all important landmark of completing his Southern Europe Trek. Each year from 2004 he has walked a pilgrimage starting from the Pyrenees; walking across Catalonia; the Basque coast from Northern France; The camino de Santiago; Caminos Portuguese/ Fatima; The Algarve and Mediterranium coast.
This time, Robin will endeavour to walk 1000 miles for THE PRECIOUS LIVES APPEAL by Easter. He hopes to start near the France/Italy border on 25th February and walk down the Mediterranium Coast to the Province of Velencia.
Camping throughout the journey he hopes his effort of endurance will encourage the public to support him and help our campaign for Cornwall’s children. Robin gives up time to do charity walks (usually 2 per year)and funds each event himself: he has covered over 21,000 miles on Pilgrimage/ fundraising walks since 1992. He appeals to the public to support his charity walk by making a donation via his webpage at: www.chsw.org.uk
Or at our office:
8 Washingham Place,
Truro, TR1 2RP
If you wish to send a donation by post please do so by sending a cheque to: The Precious Lives Appeal (charity number: 1003314), and remember that gift aid is worth 25p in every pound donation. Every pound is another brick in the wall and hopefully soon our vision will become reality.
Also visit: www.chsw.org.uk
Or contact Mary Murfin on: 01872 261166 to help put ‘Little Harbour’ on the map.
Also you can contact Robin if you would like to sponsor him or help in any way on:
Phone: 07706197209
Now read about Robin's latest adventures in Europe and in Africa on the next page/newsletter.
DIARY OF EUROPE
IL FAIT MAUVAIS TEMPS
Beginning at Nice on Thursday 25th February all started well as I followed the coastline to Cannes and beyond. There were a few hairy moments on a coast path as 12 ft waves breach the clifftops though there was some wonderful scenery with full view of the island monastery near Cannes. Unable to find a campsite that night I bivvied up in the woods at Miramar after a 60km hike around the coast.
Early next morning I marched on to St Raphael enjoying picturesque coastline and sunny weather. Needing a shorter day I camped by the sea at Ste Maxime where I was disturbed by the ´´local madman´´. He was dressed like a warden but when he stood in the middle of the conservation area I realised he was not the real deal and had perhaps come here to let of a bit of steam. After a barrage of offensive and analytic grammer I replied ´´Je ne sais pas´´ at which point he stormed off ranting and raging: I did not receive another visit though I could hear him for some time after. Later I was disturbed again: this time by shell fishers wading the nearby rock pools: other than that it was just plain cold and any thoughts of an early morning bath where soon banished.
Continuing my coast journey along promenades and beaches exposed me to some interesting little places with inspiring names such as Cavalaire but when rain came in early that evening I booked into Hotel California, at Le Lavandouso so as to get a good night´s rest and clean up. I found the hotels in France rather expensive and was loathe to use them other than in bad weather circumstances.
Sunday looked cloudy but good for walking and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the busy market towns. I was now following the Toulon Cycle Route which gave rest bite from the chaotic road. In Toulon itself, the main issue was avoiding the motorway in order to continue out of town and onto the next point. This was often difficult and stressful as I kept taking wrong roads and generally signposts for pedestrians were non-existent. I walked way after nightfall- a distance of over 70km as far as Six-fours-les-Plages where I had to camp up by the river as I was on the point of exhaustion.
Once again it was cold and I had a visit from the police who at least understood my predicament and wished me well for the rest of the trip. I had cafe at Bandol and as the day warmed up I made the most of stops at Les Lecques and La Ciotat before heading onto the mountain pass to Marseille. I found a hotel at Cassis where I concluded the day knowing the next 2 promised a more arduous trek.
One of the highlights of the journey was the splendid view of Marseille as I descended from the mountains- it was also an epic walk through the town as well. Stopping briefly at a sports shop I purchased a small sleeping bag to add to my bivvyware which would help ensure I was shielded from the cooler night temperatures.
Leaving town was a pain and, taking a wrong route, I had exceeded the distance required. Backtracking enough to correct the problem, I located the appropriate road which led me across a bridge where a hill and coast road beyond to a small village where I purchased groceries for the night. An hour later at the point of dusk I pitched my tent on a slight incline above the road.
A warm night´s sleep was interrupted by the patter of rain which grew heavy enough for me to abandon the site and take to the road. It was pitch black and pouring with rain as I left, though sadly was not a deterrent for speedy lorries which now dominated my journey. The day did not improve as I crossed deadly roads to negotiate Martigues and Port-de -Bouc and the only scenery to rival the depressing docklands was that of open marshland -70km of it! There was literally nothing between here and Arles and walked in cold wet conditions non-stop to Arles amid the constant spray of lorries completing over 80km for the day. The closest I got to finding a toilet was a dike in the central reservation and there was scarcely a house in sight as the water poured out from the fields onto the traffic-filled road. When I finished the day, I was so shell-shocked I could barely find the hotel that a young girl had kindly booked for me. It is hard to describe the pain -feet throbbing from the constant pounding, skin sore from the jet spray effect of the lorries making contact with the flooded road, thirst and hunger and the fear of the relenting onslaught of traffic build a picture of despair.
Having endured heavy goods freight for the past 2 days I needed some respite and stayed in the marshlands walking a longer course via Aigues Mortas. Once more it lacked facilities though the region was compensated by its interesting wildlife as frogs croaked contentedly all day and startled beavers cannonballed into the nearby stream each time I drew near. At nightfall I continued my quest for facilities but by 10pm gave up and pitched my tent a few km from Aiges Mortes.
My tent was frozen by daybreak and I had to fold it up as best I could. Still feeling cold I pressed on towards Montpellier. This should have been an easy day- one where I could have pressed beyond the city but in the end turned out to be a disaster. I couldn't find a sign to get out of the city and each time I tried or got directions I ended up on a motorway. It was hopeless and after some advise from an American guy, who was staying in town, I had little choice but to wrap it up for the day and get a hotel - again!
The morning brought little solace and took till mid-morning to get out of town on a road which didn´t even have a sign- it was the national route and none of the locals realised it!
The first sign I saw was Beziers 65 km - that was after I walked 10km. It became a laboured affair with morale in decline, boots almost worn out and shops few and far between.The road remained dangerous and at nightfall I was relieved to pitch my tent in a park away from the traffic some where near Pezerias.
The nights were still cold and it took a while for my hands to warm up on the first session. Cafe and toast helps when you can get it and today was Sunday which was an added difficulty. Places here just close down and become ghost towns at certain times in the week and it is hard to imagine that life exists at all. It was tough -going to Beziers and I did not contemplate going much further than the next town today. Sadly as the day rolled on it became plain that I would not find any shops or adequate camp zones, and once again after walking torrid roads after nightfall I was forced into hotel accommodation - no heating, hot water or breakfast: all that for 45 euros!
Leaving in the morning with my clothes still wet from a laboured previous day I was shocked to see snow everywhere! I could hardly stand up with my worn out boots let alone walk. Stopping for cafe, the news bulletins told a tale about inclement weather from Nabonne across the border into Spain where many were trapped and had to have meals and clothing brought in. This included Narbonne Train Station which was opposite the hotel I stayed in last night.
Pressing on slowly I realised it was getting worse - there were lorries sprawled hopelessly across the main carriageway and even the motorways were affected. Snow ploughs came through without the slightest effect and I was beginning to think this was it. I kept saying make it to the border at least that links all my European walks together and is the main reason for choosing this course. I had crossed the Pyrenees before walking Catalonia from coast- to- coast and walks on the North spanned Biaritz to Santiago, Portugal and the Costa del Sol so it was imperative I finished this tour of France.
After 35km I´d had enough and luckily found a hostal with heating which did full board and bed with heating for 50 euros -I can tell you it was worth every cent!
After a hearty meal and proper night´s sleep, I enjoyed a nourishing breakfast and set off slowly against strong prevailing winds which I struggled against all day. Not only was it cold but there was barely any clear road to walk on and sections of black ice caused some bad slips where I strained knee joints and groins.
Perpignan was a nightmare - motorists screaming at me because I´m on ´´THEIR ROAD´´ : scarcely a place to walk safely in town , oh and by the way France doesn´t do Traveller´s Cheques - too complicated!
Boy I was glad to get out of town and interested to find that traffic was at a complete standstill from here to the border. In the Pyrenees the roads run through the small border towns and there are no by-passes to accommodate the heavy goods traffic which makes this weather seem even more formidable. However it made little difference to me as I could now walk unscathed by the daunting speeds of lorries and in a sense felt liberated by these circumstances - long may it last! I then had the job however of relaying messages and weather reports to those stuck in the long line of traffic. Once I reached Le Boulou I finished there for the day at a hostal -only 32euros- though I realised after the guy had charged me 38 - Give me a break mate!
The row of dead trucks lie well beyond the border down as far as Figueres and the road report at the border simply reads access to Spain impossible - well here we go - Avoir Francia.
The snow gradually cleared on the road itself but I could see the problems lie in towns where there is a heavy build up. They had cleared enough of one side to allow traffic from the previous days to advance into the country whilst for the time being France-bound freight remained static. This made life easy for me as I walked along side the parked trucks for most of the day. But when normality resumed it was like hell on Earth for me and nightfall unleashed a new terror in that there were no hard shoulders or walking access. In the end I was forced to camp out in the snow-laden countryside in sub-minus conditions it was freezing - I had absolutely no choice. I couldn´t sleep and the tent was just a frozen block - I couldn´t even pack it. My water had frozen up so I couldn´t get a drink and I had to march about 20km to reach Girona and obtain food. This was better - a lovely authentic Spanish town with good amenities and after a lunch break I located Barcelona Street and continued the next leg of the N11.
By nightfall my journey along the N11 had changed in that I was now faced with motorway instructions- typical- just when you get going some one sticks a bloody motorway right in the middle of the route! This caused major problems and for the next 4 hours I followed railway lines and woodland paths until reaching a point where I could pick up a road which led to Sils where I stayed the night paying just 37 euros for full board and vino - it was great!
Bad start today walking the entire town before realising the road was literally outside the hostal I´d stayed in last night - that´s 2 hours wasted - no desire to express my emotions here!
Marching on amid the tide of endless traffic which dominates pretty much any road I choose to walk on these days. Trying to follow the camino to Barcelona - bloody hard I can tell you! By nightfall once more I face the perils of the main road and had to retreat behind the crash barriers where I managed to camp in a woodland.
If that had been a tough day all I can say now is: Barcelona was a nightmare! The traffic was incredibly intense and all the time life-threatening as there were points in the journey where I had nowhere to get out of the way. On one stretch I had only a foot wide space with a 20 foot wall beside me- I was helpless and at the mercy of the road. Once in the city it is hard to get out as there are not any signs for pedestrians - it is all motorway instruction - even the people you ask will give only motorway instruction. Finally some one shows me the airport road and I am able to make my way to Libbregat were at 10pm I get another one of those hostals without hot water, heating and food for 45EU. And as usual there is never any one around in the morning to listen to complaints!
Passing St Boi I was now away from Barcelona and enjoying some pleasing clifftop and seascape vistas as the road winds round some of the quieter resorts. Leaving Sitges I found a campsite and as it was approaching dusk settled there for the night.
It was warmer now and that evening I enjoyed Menu de la dei with vino tinto. Now I was bound for Tarrogona along the lively N340 which although a coast route for part of the time has also been adopted by truckers as their passage. The tougher moments forced me back to the shore where I would walk sections of promenade and occasionally cycle routes which in turn lead to smaller coast roads. Somehow I muddled my way through often near to the railway eventually rejoining the N340 near to a supermarket and campsite. The guy who owned the campsite used to work in Cambridge - it was out of season but he let me stay for just 5 euros.
Continuing on the dreaded N340 which had become my nemesis, I passed through Tarragona and then was able to enjoy a beautiful scenic journey via Port Adventua and Salou. From Salou I Followed the cycle route beyond Cambrills to a campsite where the lady let me stay for free. We had rejoined the main highway and there was a restaurant opposite so I paid 8euro for meal de la dei before retiring to a good sleep.
It was a lovely day as I left the campsite, but sadly my boots had conked out and I was forced to stop and give them a roadside burial next to the cycle route.
Having covered a few scenic locations I now had to endure Spain´s industrial might later today. Starting tamely I walked passed L´¨Hospitalet de l Infant clearing a further 20 km before taking a cafe break.Speaking with a couple of ex-pats, they explained how I could find the coast road which was a better route than the main one. This I was able to do at the next beach resort, and although most of what they said was right, it came to a dead end in the middle of nowhere. Fenced in by the railway and a cliff fall of over 50 ft left no choice other than to head for the beach. Managing to scramble down to the shore I crossed to the next point where at least there was a clifftop path to follow. Later I passed another couple who indicated the route would see me through to L´Ampolla. It turned out to be okay despite only having walking shoes left and they were my actual foot size where I really needed a size larger to accommodate the insoles and heavy duty walking socks.
Well I was back on the old N340 now dominated by a scene of commerce and industry- a most unwelcome sight as towns merge into each other with no distinguishing identity or charm. With Little left in the day to inspire me I made a bivvy camp near a coppice just beyond L´Alrea.
The morning was another cock up in waiting and so I walking around the town of Amposta only to walk out the way I came in. Then I got the wrong road and so 3 hours later I finally move 1 km forward - to celebrate I stopped for cafe and toast with jam!
It was always going to be a tough day and I was tired so it boiled down to a steady hack rather than a force march. I had been covering some good distances of over 5okm a day - this was a less productive effort and I needed an earlier finish so I camped in some rough ground outside Bencarlo where Bank Holiday celebrations and fire works kept the night alive way beyond its normal realms.
Setting off early I had a spring in my step and settled into a good pace with the last outposts of the journey being Castello and Sagunt before Valencia.Torreblanca was my first stop having covered 26km already. I also stopped at a roadside cafe for some tortilla and from there on was some rain fall which cooled things down a bit. Excluding the road of course which was a total barrage and I was so pleased to get into Benicassim and find a campsite. Everything here was expensive and I had to use my card to get a meal as it was bank holiday and there were no cash machines handy.
Setting off again I was soon beyond Castello and enjoying the coast road for as long as I could walking down to Monocofa where I camped with the British Caravan Association - I think I ran into this lot last year near Almunica. Tomorrow would be an early start and I hoped to conclude the journey at Velencia allowing sufficient time to get a train back to Santander for my ferry trip back to Plymouth and UK.
I was all packed and ready by 7am and despite some rain I enjoyed a fruitful journey along a somewhat benign N340. There was another section of Motorway thrown in after Sagunt, which I suppose was inevitable given the track record here but other than that I arrived unscathed in pouring rain around 6pm.
POSTSCRIPT
Having walked a journey of around 1000 miles on this present pilgrimage, (taking 25 days -over 300 hours of walking) I have now covered southern Europe -France Catalonia,Portugal and Spain-North and South (5000 miles in all).It has to be said that it was for many reasons one of the hardest in modern times I have endured. To me the use of national roads questions all sanity and the mood of modern society which emphasises on speed and necessity to get there at all costs. I find the concentration of having to walk these highways at times unbearable and unfortunately there are not enough cycle routes. The weather made its own statement too deciding it was far too early to start thinking about spring- this time last all I needed was a bivvy bag and a pair of shorts! It is also very expensive here now and it is essential to camp where possible which means carrying extra equipment and walking long days to cover the mileage. Funding this myself means I have limited funds and sometimes sub-standard footwear leading to blistered and cracked feet
Walking 60km with full pack on about 2 hours sleep is never easy and a well-earned rest is all I crave, yet my thoughts will always be with those unable to achieve such goals because they are too ill to do so. The little discomfort I may have put myself through bares no significance or indeed any analogy to the constant discomfort of those precious lives that may never have a chance to enjoy this type of challenge. Life is their challenge- the day-to-day endurance of ill health visited upon them without warning or prejudce. Perhaps they would like a rest from their challenge too, so that they can do normal every day things that other children are striving towards. Its impossible to imagine how people so young and limited in life perceve life, we can only work together wth their interests at heart and make their challenge less formidable and life more enjoyable. I hope that every one who read this story will help our Precious Lives Appeal and put something back into the lives of those who may not have the chances that the rest of us have already had. All I can say to you is ´´Give a little something - do a little bit- find a little time and make a big difference to a young persons life.´´
LIFE SHOULD NOT BE WASTED - LIVE IT POSITIVELY AND HELP SUPPORT HUMANITY
