I don’t think that anyone who knows me would ever accuse me of being a glutton for punishment.  Nor do I consider myself in the slightest one of life’s great adventurers.  However, as happens to so many, I am staring fifty in the face and taking stock and it occurs to me that the time for a grand statement has come.  I have been considering how to mark the half-century in a meaningful, rewarding, reflective way - a huge party, a week at a spa, a holiday to Rome - any number of ideas have flitted through my imagination, and most of them are coloured with images of hedonistic indulgence.  And then I heard about the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.  Actually, I saw a fictional film about a man who treks the Camino as a way to understand his estranged son who died at the outset of the treacherous trail.  It wasn’t the most fantastic film.  In fact, it was hugely flawed.  However, it remained with me for days and weeks after I had seen it.  Not because of its artistry, but because it led me to discover the thousand year old pilgrimage trail from the Pyrenees across 800 km of Spain.  I became fascinated by the idea of the trail, by what it stands for and has represented for thousands of pilgrims over the last millennia.  I began to read more and more about it and, recently, read Jane Christmas’ outstanding account of her experience completing the walk.  Christmas was, like me, searching for a way to celebrate her fiftieth birthday.  Like me, she was at a crossroads - emotional, spiritual, physical - in her life, and was seeking a way to express and investigate that metaphorical step into the next part of her life.  Her book is funny, candid, well-written, and hugely compelling, and despite its frank and frankly terrifying descriptions of some of the very real horrors of undertaking the Camino, it has absolutely confirmed my commitment to join the cohort of the Camino crazy. 

So…I’m in training.  I have a little time.  I turn fifty in January of 2014 and plan to start my walk in April of that year.  Things I will need to accomplish by then include quitting smoking, losing about 80 lbs, and developing the stamina and fitness to walk 25km a day.  Nothing too daunting there!!!!!!  And let’s be honest - there are 80 year olds who walk the Camino.  Some intrepid people cross it in wheelchairs or with missing limbs.  Some people start without an iota of training.  Of course, some people also die simply because they apparently lose the will to live when faced with the rigours of Camino life! 

I have no idea whether I’m up to the challenges of the great pilgrimage.  I’m certainly not an overtly spiritual person and not in the least bit religious.  I am rather superstitious, but I don’t think that’s helpful in this kind of project.  I have been walking a lot this summer already and am up to 15km a day.  It must be said, however, that that already seems gruelling, and I’ve been walking on neatly maintained City of Ottawa bike paths.  Still, my motivation for doing the Camino is strong - I’m in the requisite state of mid-life enquiry with all that that entails, and I’m desperate to do something that requires stamina and digging deep!  I’ve never really had to dig deep for anything, unless it was pocket change for the bus. 

I suspect walking the Camino is one of those experiences that you blaspheme and swear your way through, constantly asking yourself why the hell you’re doing it, but that you remember on your death bed as a highlight of the whole insane merry-go-round.  I’d like to have something like that to reflect on in my final moments!

So it’s decided.  I have my eye on the prize and the calf muscles to prove it.  Now I just need to find a high altitude hill nearby on which to train…

I wasn’t holding my breath for the Van Gogh exhibit this summer.  I have to admit that I have become jaded about the work of certain artists.  It seems to me that Van Gogh has been so over-exposed that most of the major works have lost their ability to awe.  I should say that that’s what I felt before I saw this collection.  This isn’t a “best of” collection, it’s more of an overview of Van Gogh’s work after he moved to France, where his use of colour and approach to light changed dramatically. There are none of the really major pieces here, and some might argue that the exhibit is only of lesser works.  I disagree. I was absolutely gobsmacked - that’s really the only word for it - by the intensity of colour in the landscapes, by the gorgeous blues Van Gogh manages to conjure, by the subtlety of the light and the playful way he experiments with new influences.  I’m no art critic, but I was bowled over by how beautiful so many of the canvases were.  I suppose it should go without saying that seeing a work of art in person is always going to be far more powerful and rewarding than seeing a reproduction - but this exhibit really brought that home.  Of course it’s easy to become blase about art if we never see it “live”.  Van Gogh’s Sunflowers on a biscuit tin can’t possibly convey the impact of the actual canvas.  Duh!  So why do so many of us (I’m guilty too) allow our experience of art, for the most part, to occur through regurgitated, electronic images or facsimiles?  No moral highground here, just a reminder that there is no substitute for the real thing and I for one am going to make myself a promise not to be so cavalier about my ingestion of art! 

Favorite painting at the Van Gogh - hands down, The Road Menders - I kept returning to it over and over again and will see it often before it leaves. It is sensual, almost erotic with its suffused light, rich colour, and wonderfully loose brushstrokes.  I fell in love with it.  If you’re in Ottawa, take some time to see this exhibit - I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.