8 am breakfast and pack lunch. When we have the packed lunch option, it’s always with the same food we have available at breakfast. Lots of bread.
9 am start walking
The first few kilometers were along a rather busy road, and then we came to a long hill. About three quarters of the way up, Ariel breathed out heavily, “I’m doing this. I’m doing this. And you’ve done this for 31 days already.”
Ariel didn’t complain once the whole 20 km even though she struggled with a sore knee and blistered feet. I admit to having feared she might complain based on some of our past experiences of hiking together (though mostly when she was much younger). Instead, she was strong and persevered and honoured the experience as best she could. I was super proud of her.
It was great to have Sture and Ariel there, as they added a refreshing element that made the day very enjoyable. It was so wonderful to share the experience with them and I’m so grateful that they were both willing and interested in joining the adventure.
At 4.3 km, we passed the 14 km Milestone.
At 6.2 km, we treated a hot spot (arising blister) on Ariel’s foot, and I gave her a pair of my wool socks to wear instead of the thin cotton ones she had brought. Still, no complaints.
As we passed through Granåsen, a sense of familiarity arose. We were in our home walking areas now.
As we approached Lian, a Japanese man with a camera appeared out of nowhere and asked if we were pilgrims. It turned out he was creating a book of European pilgrimage trails, and asked if he could take photos of us. He ran back and forth through the bushes snapping shots and directing our movements for several minutes. It was awkward and made us laugh, but soon enough, we left the man and our giggles behind. Although, the giggles did catch up with us a few times before we reached the end of the walk.
I reflected on the times I’d walked or skied in the area at Lian, including one time with my mom. I had taken note then of the pilgrim trail signs before, but had no inkling at the time that I would one day be following the same signs all the way from Oslo.
At 10.8 km, Lian was closed but we ate our packed lunches at the tables outside the restaurant.
I started to notice what looked like storm clouds rolling in from the south and also in the north west. Rain was forecasted for 4pm, which was incredible considering our gorgeous luck with weather for most of the trip.
At 13.9 km, we stopped at Sverresborg. While we didn’t invest any time exploring what is one of Norway’s largest cultural history museums, we did very much enjoy our ice-cream and toilet break there.
Soon, we began our decent into the centre of town, where Nidarosdomen could be seen from Gledesbakken (“The Hill of Joy”), a viewpoint of our ultimate destination, the cathedral, and the town centre.
As we approached the city centre, it began getting darker due to rain clouds. We stopped briefly at Ilen Kirke to get a stamp for our passports. The stone church with a wooden roof is one I’ve passed many times on walks, especially when I lived in the area, but until that day, had never been inside. It was consecrated in 1889.
While we felt a few raindrops, and started to walk a little faster, then the rain stopped. It was just enough to cool us down a bit.
Soon after, we arrived at the spot it is said that “Olav the Holy had lain in the ground, where a beautiful spring came up, and people were cured of diseases by that water” (pilegrimsleden.no). We drank from the fountain and sprinkled water on our knees and feet just in case the curative powers actually work.
I took my shoes off here, and walked the last 300 m in bare feet. The soft grass was cool and refreshing on my feet. Two young crows cawed their greetings, and finally, after 643 km and 32 days of walking, we arrived at the Nidarosdomen Pilgrim Centre!
There, we saw several people we’d seen throughout the month and who had also come for the Olavsfesten celebrations. A group of German women we had seen a few times in Dovre called out a hello to us, as well as one of the pilgrims we’d met and chatted with at Sundet the evening before. It felt a bit sad not to hug or shake hands with people I’d experienced parts of this huge walk with, but these are Corona times.
After a celebratory beer bought for us by Sture, and receiving our St. Olav letters that state that we walked the trail, the four of us walked to the 0 km milestone at the front of the nearly 1000 year old Nidarosdomen Cathedral. As we took some photos, we also noticed and chatted with Maike, the young German woman we’d met earlier along the trail before and after Lillehammer. She’d arrived four days before us with her massive 20 kg bag and her tall, clearly strong, resilient body.
As Sture, Ariel and I prepared to leave to catch the bus home, I noticed a subtle sense of grief and yet also relief. Even though Chin-Yu and I were headed to the Moddi concert in a couple of nights, our Oslo to Trondheim journey, which started last spring and intensified throughout July, had come to an end. I was tired and completely ready to sleep in my own bed.
When we got home, Ariel and I made brownies and I started the baked potatoes. Sture made a mozza, basil and tomato salad while I showered and then the three of us sat down to relax after our full day’s walk. It was the first I’d watched on TV or Netflix all month, except when I’d half listen to whatever Chin-Yu had on the TV if she turned it on when we had access to one. I fell asleep that night less than half way through the movie we put on, and just like that, old patterns found their way back.
July 31: Chin-Yu and I met and went to the Moddi concert which was held in Nidarosdomen cathedral. It was odd to be around so many people again. Moddi spoke and sang in Norwegian so I didn’t understand a lot of what he said but I did get that he is an excellent storyteller and a talented musician who allows Spirit to move and play through him. At the end of his show, the musician, who had also just completed the 643 km walk and performed with his bare feet in the 1000 year old cathedral, expressed to his audience, “The feet arrive. The heart continues to wander.”
Indeed.
Aug. 2: I shall continue to reflect and make a post or two more about what I’m processing. The most immediate thing I’ve noticed since being home is that organising life feels much easier, more simple, while on the road. Life can feel more complex when back at home. I’ve tried to order tickets and had little persistence when the apps were not user-friendly. I tried to organise my finances for my year of leave from work, and it feels difficult and confusing (though I’m super grateful to have this “issue” to work through). However, I decided to leave it for another day.
I had a compulsion to clean and tidy the house when I first got home. I had to remind myself not to a few times. Some of my plants seem to have missed me, and family power hour, where the members of the house clean together once a week, did not seem to occur while I was away.
I have no appetite though I feel hungry sometimes. I attribute this to having food prepared for us or Chin-Yu taking charge of the food ideas and cooking when meals weren’t included. My food decision-making skills have atrophied further than before when they were already depleted during the final weeks of the school year.
Throughout the walk, I can’t think of a time when I felt the same tightness within my chest and shortness of breath that I’ve felt daily since my return. Getting up and going for a walk seems to allow the sensations to relax, yet I wonder what it is telling me. I will work to sit with the discomfort.
Now on Day 4 of the return, while my leg muscles feel strong and my clothes fit looser, the ache in my right knee is painful and persistent at times, especially if I’m sitting and my my leg is not elevated
Today, I’m more than tired. I had a headache, maybe from binging on Netflix and falling asleep on the couch until 3am for two nights in a row before crawling up to bed. Sture and Ariel have gone up north, so while I’ve had online chats with friends and family in Canada the last few days, today, I have had none. I’m alone. At times, I crave this. Yet at other times, I sense a need to be seen, heard, touched. I guess this is the nature of being human. I didn’t feel this while walking though. Maybe because I always had something to do or somewhere to go.
I continue to sense a stiffness in my hands and feet, especially upon first waking.
My running shoes (not the shoes I used for the trek) feel like slippers when I put them on. Two of the four days home, I’ve walked over 10,000 steps, and the other two, I’ve walked about 5,000. It’s difficult to rest but it feels difficult to do anything else, and so, I watch Jane the Virgin on Netflix to avoid thinking about: how I will earn money during my year leave from teaching? In which direction will I go next? Can I possibly go back to teaching again if I just tone down my belief that I need to help and rescue all the kids I work with and release the belief that I’m a complete failure if I can’t help them? Can I remember to focus on what are my responsibilities and let others take care of their responsibilities? Where do I belong? Am I safe? How will my body respond to the vaccine tomorrow now that I feel my strength and immunity are tired and possibly a bit compromised? Is this the right decision? Why do I have doubts? Sometimes my safety sensors are falsely alarmed, and I hope this is one of those times.
I went to get groceries today and felt like my head was in a bubble, completely distanced from all those around me. I’m tired. I’m in a liminal, in-between space. What’s next?
Just rest, Kim. Just rest.
Stories from the Walk Home 