Switching To Facebook

I've decided to write about our adventures - if there are any - on the Camino de Santiago on a Facebook page I just reactivated. So that journey will NOT be covered here. My Facebook page is open to the Public, so you don't even have to degrade yourself and your reputation by becoming a Facebook "Friend" of mine. 

I think you just search Jerry Galvin Cincinnati, and you'll find me.

Follow Jene On Facebook

Brother Jene headed off to Spain on the 16th. So he'll have well over two weeks of hiking/camping behind him before Jim and I (his brothers, for you newbies) join him on August 2nd in Sarria and hike the final 60 miles or so. 

Using his phone, he's posting his adventures on the Jene Galvin Facebook page. Since it's a public page, anyone can follow him and, later, us on Jene's page even if you're not a "Friend." But I think you do have to at least have a Facebook account; I don't. You can track Jene here: https://www.facebook.com/jene.galvin.

As you'll see, he's still harping and whining about an alleged toy box incident from 60 years ago. If you have a Facebook account and you can post at his page, please tell him to get over it. It's probably not even true. 

Secret Desire

For about 15 years I've owned an Isomac Millenium (Yes, spelled with one n) Italian espresso machine. Think of it as the Jaguar of coffee makers. As in it's always in the shop. 

The thing weighs a ton. So carrying it in for repairs locally is a hassle. And sending it off for service, which I've done twice, is almost impossible to manage and costs a small fortune. 

About two years ago the Breville company came out with a dual boiler espresso maker that really caught the attention of the coffee world. Their new machine is loaded with features at a price way under comparable Italian machines. The two years since its unveiling have given early buyers enough time to assess its quality and the news is really good. 

Still, I have my Isomac and it seems wasteful to buy a new machine when the one I have does a great job - when it's working. On that topic, it's not working. It's been in a local repair shop for three months. Pictured here is the simple little Italian Bialetti espresso maker I've been using while the Isomac is away. There isn't a home in Italy that doesn't have at least two sizes of these in the kitchen. $35 and it makes really good coffee. It's reliable. And faithful. 

However, the Breville is like that cute girl in the high school hall who doesn't even know you're alive. The Breville is all I think about. So, when the tech guy from the shop called to say the Isomac cannot be repaired, I tried to sound disappointed. But secretly, and in my heart, I rejoiced. I could finally justify buying the Breville dual boiler machine of my dreams. 

You may wonder why I don't simply stick with the Bialetti. Well, it's an Italian thing, and you probably won't understand. Style points. The Breville scores more style points than the Bialetti. I hope she doesn't break my heart. 

UPDATE AT 7AM, SATURDAY

See that gauge in the middle of the machine? It shows the pressure of the hot water being pushed through the ground coffee. It doesn't work. It doesn't show 8 bar, when the ideal pressure is 9 bar. The needle doesn't even move off the peg. I suspect the pressure is correct, because my first try this morning turned out pretty decent espresso. My grind was a little too coarse. I'll get that part right on the second try. 

But the machine will have to go back for a gauge repair, re-calibration or replacement. Yesterday I said I hope she doesn't break my heart. Well, right at this moment I feel like she's ditched me at the prom, and is dancing with the quarterback of the football team, while I watch helplessly. 

Am I being too dramatic? Probably. It's another Italian thing.  

This Is The Captain Speaking

No good news will ever follow an airplane announcement that starts with these words - "This is the captain speaking from the flight deck. Due to fuel problems ...."

We are now in a beautiful part of the country for the wedding of a friend's son. It's called the Northern Neck area of Virginia. Specifically, it's Lancaster County.  

Our short flight yesterday to Richmond, Virginia, boarded in Cincinnati at about 1:30 for a 2pm departure. No problems. We were on a small Delta commuter flight that wasn't quite full. It pulled away from the gate, then nothing happened. Eventually we were told that a storm in Richmond was preventing planes from landing there, but the storm was expected to pass. So we were to taxi to a waiting area and take off once the airport was clear. No getting off the plane. 

We waited about an hour, and took off. But once we got near Richmond a new storm rolled in. It turned out that the entire East Coast was slammed with storms, and planes were being diverted to safer airports for landings. In our case the captain came on and revealed that we were low on fuel (I didn't really need to know that) and we were being sent to Norfolk to land. The deal was that we'd fuel up, get new paperwork, and go back to Richmond where the storm was clearing out. Again, no getting off the plane. 

That time we sat for almost, but not quite, an hour and a half. Don't some penalties for the airlines kick in after an on-board wait passes an hour and a half? The flight back to Richmond took about twenty minutes. Once we got off, we'd been on that commuter jet for about five hours. Throughout the whole deal both passengers and crew handled the situation pretty well. 

We grabbed our rental car at the Richmond airport and got to our 7pm wedding rehearsal dinner at 9pm. They saved food for us. 

Jene with a J

Jene will leave for Spain a few weeks before Jim and I will. He'll start his hike along the Camino at the base of the Pyrenees on the Spanish side of those mountains. We'll meet him in Sarria on August 1st about a week's hike from the end point. Some pilgrims begin walking the Camino south out of Paris, hike a good hunk of France, cross the Pyrenees from France and continue across northern Spain. This pilgrimage started in medieval times and the reward was a plenary indulgence. What did the pilgrims do when they got to the end in Santiago? There was no Delta flight back to Paris. All they could do was turn around and start walking again. I'm guessing that pilgrimage could've taken six months to a year back then. On the other hand, the Church was pretty liberal with those plenary indulgences. I'd trade a year of hard travel for a ticket to an eternity of heavenly bliss any day. 

Back up for a second to the spelling of Jene Galvin's name. When Jene was finally old enough to ask about that spelling, our Italian-born mother told him that it's the French way to spell his name. Either Mom was stupid and didn't know that Jene isn't the French spelling of any known first name. Or, she figured that Jene would grow up too stupid to know he had a bogus French name. To give herself cover she gave him the middle name of Maurice. I think she simply forced the spelling in order to make sure the three of us had the same initials – JMG. She stuck to her story about the French spelling to the day she died.  

There's a sanctioning body of some sort that issues Camino de Santiago passports. Pilgrims get them stamped along the Way. Note that mine shows I'll travel on foot. My alternatives are a bicycle or a horse. 

Fudge Down Below

Jerry, Jim and Jene Galvin are off to Spain shortly to walk part of the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage route that leads to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. It's thought that the remains of St. James the apostle are buried there. The pilgrimage dates back to the 10th century. The young brother, Jene – age 70, will hike and camp his way across most of Spain. The older brothers, Jerry – age 73, and Jim – age 71, will meet Jene down the trail and hike the last week with him. I can't speak for my brothers, but I'm going for the adventure of it, and if some spirituality seeps in, that's great. You have the picture. Three brothers, all in their 70's, spending many days together alone. Something we've never ever done before in our entire lives. 

Jene is a very experienced and very skilled backpacker and camper. Often camping in harsh conditions, while carrying everything he may need for a week or more. He's obsessed with carrying as little weight as possible. He held my underpants in his hand one day and pronounced them "too heavy." While Jim and I have done some hiking and camping, we aren't even in the same league with Jene. He's in the major league. In comparison we're still playing grade school ball. 

Jene's the one, or so I thought until today. 

Last weekend he saved me considerable money by bringing me stuff I need, but won't now have to buy for what could be one-time use. Among the supplies is a high-tech inflatable sleeping mat that goes under the sleeping bag he lent me. Then he showed me an ingenious way to inflate it. He had painstakingly fashioned a tube out of duct tape. He had cut a hole in the corner of a plastic garbage bag and made an airtight seal of the bag hole onto the duct tape tube. The tube fit perfectly and tightly over the mat's air nozzle. With the tube on the nozzle, he'd shake the bag to capture air and quickly close and roll it up, forcing the air out of the bag into the mattress. What may have taken 15 minutes or more to do by simply blowing into the nozzle, he did in maybe two minutes. He offered to make such an assembly for me to use with the mat. Knowing that Jene probably spent an hour or more making his assembly, I told him I'd make one myself with the help of a friend, Tim Fischer. 

Today I showed Tim the mat and told him what we needed to make, and how. He looked at me like I was nuts. I had a quick doctor's appointment, so Tim grabbed the mat and told me to meet him at his house afterwards. When I got there he had $3 worth of tubing and plastic plumbing parts out on a table. He slid the tube over the nozzle. Perfect tight fit. He slid a plastic part with threads on it into the other end of the tube. Another tight fit. Reaching inside the bag, he screwed a plastic cap with a hole in it onto the threaded part that was in the tube, thereby locking the bag in place in the threads. He then punched a hole in the bag so air could pass through the cap, through the threaded piece, through the tube and nozzle and into the mat. Assembly time (separate from going to Home Depot) – 42 seconds.

Tim said, "Tell Jene I'll make one of these for him with the leftover parts. Oh, and he'll fudge his shorts when he sees this." 

It's Over.

In an hour we head to the airport. Marty going back to China. Me to Cincinnati. We got up before sunrise to walk along the ghats for the sunrise rituals. I'm now going to post a random collection of those photos. If you can even call them that. I really just take snapshots, always sure they make my photographer friends, especially Corson, cringe. Well, ask for your money back.

I'll have no idea how many of these will post.