4. Bolivar doctors my I

Expert advice on foot care from a man called Brett

The walk, for me, started in Roncesvalles. I saw the bus coming into the underground car park before anyone else and lined up at the bay. The driver, when he got off, seemed to ignore me. One by one he let everyone else on the bus and when it was my turn to get on he sent me to put my little rucksack into the luggage bay.


I was the last on.


There was only one seat left on the bus, next to an old man with a beard leaning against the window. I wasn't going to talk to him. Just sit. but I had problems adjusting the seat belt and so finally he reached over and pulled it out from behind the seats and said.


'You're rather large. Wouldn't you be more comfortable up front? you could swap seats.'


'No, but thanks for being so considerate.' I smiled.


After a while he broke the silence again.


'I am going to give you some advice for the Camino. He said. I have done it four times. Once with my daughter. Last year. Once when I divorced. This is my fourth time.' 


'Thank you, again.' I said.


'You should not go fast. It is not a race. When you feel anything, anything hurting, especially your feet, you should stop right away, and see what's wrong and take off your shoes and socks and let your feet breath. You should do this every three hours, maybe.'


'In the morning' - his 'rs' sounded Scottish, his voice a little sing song - ' get up early, not later than 6 am, and just start walking. You don't need breakfast so early. I don't start feeling hungry until around 10. Then I eat a little bread an this good goats cheese from Roncesvalles. His eyes looked to one side and his lips pursed as he remembered the cheese. It's very strong and very nice.


'Before you put your shoes on - It's better to have old comfortable shoes -You must put a lot of Vaseline on your feet. All over, everywhere, and then put on your socks.'


'Vaseline? That sounds a little unpleasant.'


'No, he said, impatiently. It's necessary. To protect your feet. Every THREE hours .And before you put your shoes on again, you put on more Vaseline.' 


'In the evening you take off your shoes and socks, let your feet breath. Do this before you eat or relax. This is the first thing you do. Then I put on another cream. An anti-inflamatory, Voltaren. It's very good.'


The bus was quiet. Only Bolivar's advice could be heard. I could sense some of the people around us tuning in to our conversation.


He introduced himself. 'I am Bolivar,' he said. 'and I used to be an eye surgeon, I was very successful, I made a lot of money, but 8 years ago, when I wasn't made Chairman of the Rotary Club. 


In Brazil, I interrupted. 


No, of the whole organisation, of it's headquarters, in New York. I was so sure I would be offered the job. I had my acceptance speech prepared, I packed for a long stay, but they gave it to an American. I didn't even come in second. I came third. he said.


And then there was a woman I tried to help. She was diabetic, elderly and overweight. She had high blood pressure and I did the cataract operation for free. It was bound to go wrong, but she insisted and it went wrong she sued me.


What happened? I asked.


I won, but I was so disgusted that I decided to leave everything and try and understand who I really was, not the father or the Rotarian, or the eye doctor. 


Have you read the death of Ivan Ilych, I asked him.


No.


You should read it. I said.


When I do the Camino, Bolivar steamrollered on, I do it with one single question in my mind. I ask myself: 'Who am I? You should ask yourself as you walk. Who am I? Just that.


'I can say now that I am completely happy. If I died tomorrow it would be OK. I've travelled to so many places in the last 8 years in my search. 


I was in Egypt, Israel, China, India, Africa. I was at Osho's ashram and meditated Vipassana in the mountains I met the Dalai Lama and told him him: "I am 78 have pity on me, help me." And the Dalai Lama just laughed and gave me the address of a teacher who taught me a special breathing practice.


 I've just been on with Leonard Or. He gave me the address of Babaji and after the Camino I shall go and look him up in the Himalayas.'


'Give him my regards', I said.  


Have you heard of Paolo Coello? I asked him. 'Oh I know him. I've met him. But he is just a writer. He went on the Camno and wrote about it. That's all. But he's not an adept.'


'Look, Bolivar said, 'what the Camino is really about is joy and celebration,' And he laughed, his bright blue eyes narrowing. Suddenly he didn't seem so old any more. 


'As you do the walk you will experience four different feelings, each in turn. He chanted each as if someone had taught him: Joy, Compassion, Love and Understanding.


'Don't take your emotions seriously he said. Just observe how you react to everything and go deeper. Know that your emotions are not you, so ask yourself. Who am I.'


I thought of the movie Zoolander: 'Who am I?...There must be more to life than just being hopelessly, hopelessly good looking...?


By the time we got to Roncesvalles it was chilly and getting dark. They lead us to a dormitory in an large old pilgrims hostel, the new hostel was already full, and I dumped my rucksack and went to the restaurant which offered  deal on a bowl of hot minestrone soup and a glass of red wine.


Later, the man next to my bunk started snoring. 


Inconsiderate bastard, I thought, and it took me 15 minutes to fall asleep.


In the morning I followed Bolivar's advice to the letter.