BERT VERDONCK, lifehacker & life coach

My good friend Edu is about 2m tall, so some people nicknamed him El Chiquitin (the little one). He is Basque and speaks Basque (Euskera) and Spanish. He understands just a few words of French and English, not enough to conversate, so I tried to speak Spanish (always including a few Italian words, right Edu?) to him. Eventually, we managed to communicate very well. I even learned him some basic German words…I know we would have all day during the hiking, but just imagine you want to tell a story of 10 minutes and synthesize it into 5 sentences, otherwhise it would take too long to explain

Anyway, he once told me he had met just a couple of Belgians on his Camino and all were loco (crazy). Indeed, he told me about these four crazy Belgians…

Of course, I don’t need to explain myself. Everyone knows me No comment!

I already told you about my new friend Sandrita. I must admit, she sometimes acts like she’s crazy… Singing, dancing and joking all the time, she is truly fun to be with! She is indeed a great person with a caring heart, sincere and giving. On top of that she speaks 7 languages (Dutch, English, French, German, Portuguese, Italian and Spanish) fluently. She’s an actor in theatre productions, animates children (and adults) and is a tour guide (currently in Ecaudor!). Does this sound too much like an ad for her? Well, she’s single and who knows who might be interested…

Number 3 is Roger, a 73 year-old Belgian from the Walloon area. He is reknown for his incredible speed. He walks like his feet are on fire! Wow! Impressive, but he is probably best known for his funny, limited conversations or quote, which goes like: “Ca va? Ca va? Mangez? Mangez? C’est bien, no? C’est bon!” So, many people might refer to him as “Roger Mangez” Everytime you meet him he repeats this quote, over and over again! I’ve seen people going crazy, because they’ve spend a lot of time with him No, seriously, he’s from a different generation and I respect him for walking 800km at his age, knowing that he does this for his wife who is diagnosed with cancer. I wish him all the best!

Then last, but not least comes our famous fidler, Caroline, also from the Walloon area (rest assured, my team is politically correct ). She is a pretty good violin player, who missed her instrument too long during the trip, so she decided to buy one on the Camino. Can you imagine someone with a backpack, carrying a violin too? She sometimes plays unaware of several peregrinos sitting quitly behind her on the stairs, enjoying the lovely sounds…Or she teams up with other musicians along the road, we had guitar players from Italy, El Salvador, Spain, France, etc. , next to flutes, piano and a lot of homemade instruments. The true sound of the Camino!

So, if these 4 people were the only Belgians you’ve met on your trip to Santiago, Edu’s right : Todo loco!

Enjoy every day,

Bert

Yet another Camino story…

At a certain point on the Camino, called the Meseta,  we had to walk a straight part of 17km without bars, shops, towns or anything else from civilization.

Some people were afraid or feared to be bored by it. Others raved on it, because finally we would go on a great plain of (almost) untouched nature. The only thing reminding us of humans is the electricity cables in the sky, at a distance.

Anyway, before leaving the last town, I decided to buy a large pineapple. People told me I was crazy! Everyone is looking to minimize the weight of their backpack, I just added 3kgs to it I decided to ignore them, smiled at them and told them it was my favorite fruit…

So, I carried the heavy pineapple on my back on top of my backpack for 17kms. At the first town, the first building was a refugio. Although I had decided upfront I would not stay there, it was time for a break on a rock in front of this refugio. I took my pineapple and sliced it. I offered a fresh piece of pineapple to everyone passing by…

At first people were surprised that someone offered it to them, but then I saw them smiling from ear to ear. They all enjoyed a juicy piece of pineapple, it didn’t matter how tired, wet or concentrated they were! Needless to say that it was a priceless experience to contribute to their happyness, even if it was for just a moment on their challenging trip to Santiago…

So, now you know the story of that crazy Belgian who brought a fresh pineapple on the Meseta!

Enjoy every day,

Bert

Being in nature for a long time (relatively) sharpens your senses. It happened to me on the Camino. After a couple of weeks, I smelled better (not only the stinking pilgrims like myself ), certainly the vast amount of flowers along the road, the beautiful eucalyptus trees, etc.

My taste changed as well! I tasted more variety in the wines (great Rioja!), the food (even simple bread) and the meals I had.

I felt like I heard better too. At night I could hear the snorers make a lot of noise Anyway, I had earplugs and did not hear them until I took them out again… but I could hear the birds (and other animals) sing, approaching cars from far away, …

I also met a Korean woman Sun Ay (like sunday without the ‘d’), who lost her glasses somewhere along the Camino. She probably left it at an albergue, but I am not sure anymore. So, I met her in Pomferrada, where she stood next to me at one of the traffic lights. She asked me kindly if she could join me on my trip that particular day. She explained to me that she had lost her glasses and only could see like 1 m away. So, it’s impossible for her to see the markings of the Camino (yellow arrows or shells)! Only by walking together she could make it to the next town or wherever she wanted to stay.

We took a nice scenic route, but unfortunately, she could not see it very well! It took me some time to get that… Imagine the beautiful nature sceneries I am enjoying, and telling her about it, but she did not see at all! Of course, we laughed a lot and had a great time together, discovering our cultural differences, food preferences and discussing our music/movie top 20.

Why couldn’t she get another pair of glasses? Well, first of all, only big towns and cities have opticians/optical stores. Apparently it takes at least 1 extra day to get the glasses ready and she had planned the rest of the trip completely. Even afterwards, her tickets for Barcelona, Paries, etc. were already booked. So, she couldn’t afford ‘loosing’ a day, otherwhise she would have to take the bus (not done by true hikers!), obviously no option either. On top of that, it might be a great lesson for her to go on without seeing clearly where she was going…like many of us are doing in real life!

Almost a week later, I met her again and I could not believe my eyes… she could see for almost 3 meters by now (her eyes adapted?), still not enough to walk alone, but she could at least recognize the faces of people she met, find the toilets, get out of a building, etc.

Imagine how your life would look like, if you could only see 1 meter away? All the rest is just blurry… Wow, what an impact that would have on your life, right? Something to think about…

Sometimes we appreciate things the most, only when they are gone! I can truly say that I am very thankful that all my senses are working properly!

Enjoy every day,

Bert

A powerful lesson I learned on the Camino from a man diagnosed with terminal cancer.

I met a fairly happy man, who cracked a lot of jokes with several newly made friends on the road, who recently retired and was finally getting a long, deserved vacation, but then he told me in private that he had only 3 months to live! I was devastated!

He was keeping a joly facade to make other people happy and would not bother the others about his condition. He was walking the Camino to Santiago as a reflection on his life. He was contemplating on his past experiences.

What did I do right or wrong? What lessons have I learned in this life? Is there anything worthy of a legacy, a reminder of my life after I am gone? Did I love well? Did I serve well? What will people tell about me at the funeral? (I call these the Final Questions)

He also wrote down a list of (old) friends and people he really wanted to see or call during these final weeks…

He knew that after flying back home, he would enter the hospital, never to leave it again. Only painful treatments to prolonge his life were waiting for him. Probably a lot of frustration about how his body was deteriorating and draining his energy. Luckily, his family would support him till the end, but he couldn’t stand the thought of how they would suffer because of him…

To be totally honest, it was rather difficult for me to say or do something useful, besides giving him a lot of love, courage and energy. He made me realise again that life is too short and that we are wasting a lot of time, energy and money on minor things in life…

So, how would you answer your Final Questions?

Take a moment to reflect on them… I am sure something in your mind will change.

Probably needless to say, but my quote grew even stronger:

ENJOY EVERY DAY !!!

Start to wear your best suit today, use your finest dishes, have dinner at that great restaurant, book that trip you’ve been dreaming of, call old friends again, have fun and don’t wait until…yeah, until it’s too late!

Have a great , an outstanding, magical weekend!

Bert

PS : for people who where with me on the Camino, you surely understand and respect his wish not to tell his name… Thanks!

One of the lessons I learned on the Camino was about changing one’s identity by changing his/her first name.

My friend Gary (aka Gazze) from Australia is a great guy, but probably the slowest hiker I have met on the Camino

Everybody walks his own rythm, so no worries mate!

He used to introduce himself as ‘Gary’. This one day, somebody misunderstood and thought his name was Kevin.  Since people are always asking around when people had started (and where), you can imagine he was the “talk of the day” once and a while. So, they spread the word about this slow, sympathetic Aussie, named Kevin, on the Camino…

Of course, he tried to explain over and over again that his name was Gary, not Kevin. Nothing could help, so after a while, he started to accept that people called him Kevin.  When exchanging addresses he even writes Kevin now, so that people remember who he really was.

Another great friend I have met, is Sandrita. She is from my hometown, but I never met her before. We used to live 25 years in the same town, but had different schools, friends, interests, etc.  Now, her real name is Sandra, but she travels a lot and especially to South America. A single, cute blond girl always gets a lot of attention from the latin ‘lovers’, so her name was changed into the lovely ‘Sandrita’. And she still goes by that name…It really suits her

So how does your first name affect your identity? If it changes, are you still the same person? Do you ask all your friends to call you by your new name? How do they respond?

And just how important is your first name for you ?

When I look back at my own past, I once had short hair and we had 2 Berts in the classroom. So, I was ‘Ernie’ for a while (yes, I already know the joke about the banana!). Later on in the gaming comunity my nickname was ‘Tsunami’ (I was a heavy Defender, sweeping most attacks and a swift Scout, stealing their flag!)

What about your nicknames? What’s the story behind it… I invite you to share

Enjoy every day,

Bert