Deciding to embark on a journey, which I had heard about long before I knew what it was called, found myself chasing my shadow and yellow arrows hundreds of kilometers across the north of Spain along a pilgrim route little known in the nearly-antipodes of my own home country Australia. As I looked out the window of a plane amidst another journey I felt a strong curiosity about the date – 18th of September. Quickly locating one of my many tattered journals I’ve kept along the way – I think this is number 6 – I flick back through my musings to see that it’s exactly two years since I set out to start the pilgrimage. I guess this should be an opportune moment for reflection.
‘The way’ is to Santiago or better known as the Camino de Santiago (Way of St James). Traditionally ‘your’ camino begins at the foot of your home door as you make your pilgrimage by foot to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in the northwestern corner of Spain to receive your compostela. The route has existed for thousands of years receiving many pilgrims. Times of hardship such as the Black Death in the Middle Ages and political unrest in the 16th century with the Protestant Reformation meant that by the middle 1980’s less than 1000 pilgrems were arriving at Santiago annually compared with 180,000 in 2010 and over 270,000 in the Holy year of 2009.
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| Somewhere along the way |
I found that many people just ‘end up’ on the Camino like I had evidently found myself. I had heard about this route along the north of Spain and thought it might be something that I’d like to have a crack at. So deciding to move to action I made a few arrangements in Madrid and a mental checklist: backpack, check; bus ticket, check; childlike sense of enchantement, check. A day later I commenced my ‘Camino de Santiago.’
These days’ people start the Camino at different points around Spain and Europe. I met people who had walked as far as Holland and Switzerland from the traditional starting point of their own homes – top kudos goes to a dude from Poland who had been walking for more than 4 months. Me; I started walking from just over the frontier in France and I learnt during the Camino that this is a popular place for foreigners to begin. One; because it’s in France and two; because it’s widely regarded as ‘the’ Camino. In any case I also like the idea of walking all the way across one country and if I could have a French croissant for breakfast and cross a mountain range, then I was one happy kid.
Evenings are spent in Albergues; refuges especially for pilgrims that provide a place to sleep, wash your clothes and prepare a little something for dinner. More-over they provide an important place to encounter and learn from the other interesting people you will encounter on your way. Albergues are generally run by short-term volunteers who have been pilgrims themselves but most often are people who want to ‘give back’ to the Camino.
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| A hospitalero closes a converted church as the last pilgrim leaves in the morning. |
Conversation along the Camino varies from the typical where’d-you-come-from-where’d-you-go variety (especially in the beginning) but my favorite has to be the imagine-if-there-were-a-3rd-party-listening-to-this-conversation-what-do-you-think-they’d-think variety. The answer to the standard-fire questions from my favorite pilgrims are always vague, said with a smile and finished with a chuckle. An example – Question; ‘Where are you walking to today?’ Response with a wink; ‘I’ll let you know when I get there.’
You will remember different people along your way and find pearls of wisdom that you needed but didn’t know you were looking for. One day I encountered a smiling face behind a shack in the middle of nowhere that was offering ‘donativo’ food and refreshments – take what you need and leave what you can. I was interested to what had brought her there so we sat and talked for hours about things that we had been pondering over. I was confused about the difference, if there was one, between a tourist and a pilgrim. She shared her view and put it into simple terms - a pilgrim satisfies three life tenants; simplicity, self sacrifice and being open to encounter. The last I believe is what separates the mass.
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| Donativo snacks and refreshments - text reads ‘nothing is what it seems.' |
Sitting in the middle of way across the Masetta on a sunny patch of dirt – a long, straight stretch of barren land that takes approximately 7 days to cross by foot – enjoying the nothingness and morning sun on my face a lady quite out of breath walked passed my way. I offered if she’d like to join me, so we sat and talked about nothing in particular. As she left I gave her a hug and she took my picture. She said that she’d really needed someone to talk to in that moment and she meant it when she said, reflecting from behind her eyes, ‘It’s was really nice to meet you.’ I’d like to think I made a difference to her day.
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| At La Cruz de Ferro |
The more I think the more stories I can recall; those of others, my own and those of the Camino. It’s difficult to put them all into context and even begin to do them justice here. Perhaps one day they’ll serve as stories worthy to be told to inquisitive grandchildren.
Someone told me our pilgrimage begins when we become aware of it; for some this is the Camino but I think for me it began long before. Standing at the ‘end of the world’ in Fisterra on the Atlantic Coast of Spain I wondered what the standard greeting would be now to passing pilgrims – usually it’s a cheerful ‘buen Camino’ or good journey. In the few hours I sat contemplating I watched many arrive, check the view, take a couple of happy-snaps and start back. I observed one guy who lingered a little longer - as he passed me he smiled, and as though he knew what I’d been musing said, ‘Buen Camino.’
People usually think that when they arrive here have reached the end. But my friends, if you learn anything from the Camino, you will realise that it is only a part of the journey.
