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Santiago de Compostela
The cathedral where we sat for over an hour not really sure what to do next. It’s become wonderful again. It’s become Spain again. Much of Galicia before Santiago seemed like Yorkshire. Now the gloomy hills and farms have been replaced with pine forests, carpets of flowers and most significantly, a beautiful coastline.
It was very emotional to arrive in Santiago. I can’t really describe what the emotion was....
I had arrived early with two companions after setting off before dawn. It’d been a fairly sleepless night on the floor of an indoor five a side football pitch that I shared with over a hundred others. Shivering beneath my one metre square sarong/towel because I accidentally donated my sleep sheet to an albergue a week or so before. We didn’t converse much during the long entry into the city, together, but alone with our thoughts.
Upon arriving at the square in front of the cathedral a lone piper was playing under the entrance arch. Presumably sheltering from the sunlight or rain, which seemed equally likely to burst through the low grey cloud at any minute. The melancholic music seemed very apt, as did the gloomy weather that couldn’t make up its mind. We hugged when we reached the official kilometre zero and then we
Flecha Amarilla
What I followed for a month. just sat. For ages. I had a lump in my throat and was on the verge of tears yet at the same time I felt massive relief and elation.
Considering the time taken, the distance covered, the pain, the heat, the uncomfortable nights spent on the ground, all to get to this point, it’s understandable that my legs would go a bit wobbly.
Gradually more and more pilgrims arrived. After the hugs, kisses and photos, they too plonked on the ground around us. There was a collective sense of confusion. What to do next? For weeks our lives had been very one-dimensional. Just keep heading west, keep walking, stop for a coffee, walk some more, find a shop for supplies, find somewhere to sleep, get up, start walking again. Suddenly, despite the overwhelming emotions of reaching our goal, there was a shared realisation that unthinkable things, like work, motorised transport and negative people, would imminently have to be faced.
You could finish in Santiago, as most do, or you could continue westwards to the coast, following the route of an even older pilgrimage. I haven’t really got into the history of the Camino de Santiago during these
Santiago de Compostela
Arriving at kilometre zero with many emotions swimming around in our heads. blogs and I don’t intend to now. However, I’ll point out that long before Christians were heading to Santiago from across Europe in order to visit the remains of James the Apostle, Romans and pagans had been voyaging along the same route to reach the westernmost point in the known world, otherwise known as the end of the Earth, or Finisterre.
After the busy paths and huge yet full albergues during the final 100km to Santiago, it was a joy to be back on quiet lanes and in small friendly albergues full of familiar faces.
I haven’t mentioned why I divided this blog into four parts. There were four distinct geographical and climatological stages and the more I think about it, this blog being written many months after the event, my reasons for being there on the Camino seemed to change with each stage. It is usually the third question you are asked when you meet new people on the Camino: “What’s your name? Where are you from? Why are you doing this?” The answers to the first two questions were simple enough but I think I never gave the same answer twice to the last one.
Santiago de Compostela
A night on the town after arriving in Santiago. The first stage, and thus blog number one, was highly varied and included the misty mountains of the Pyrenees, shadeless baking hot cornfields around Los Arcos, some fairly big cities like Pamplona, Logroño and Burgos, endless vineyards and fields of sunflowers seen through the drizzle in La Rioja, and the cool pine-forested hills around San Juan de Ortega.
During this first week, if asked, I would have told you that I was walking the Camino for the challenge. I’ve done a few weeklong treks so I wanted to push myself a bit more. The Camino de Santiago is one of the more famous long distance walking paths in the world and it is chiefly in Spain, a country that I really like and wanted to see more of. It also gave me an opportunity to practice my Spanish. In hindsight this justification seems a little cold.
The second stage, blog two, was the scorched and parched plains of the Meseta. When asked why I was attempting the trek while limping and sweating through this second week, I would have given a different reason. People have been following this path for thousands of years. Whole towns and villages
Santiago de Compostela
Note all the pilgrims sitting in front of the cathedral, all unsure about what's next. came into existence solely to service pilgrims on the Camino. Perhaps millions of people for millions of reasons have trod exactly where I was treading. And lots more would follow in my footsteps. For this reason you never felt really alone on the Camino, even when there was no one else in sight. So I would have told you that I was there to be part of something so historical and so eternal.
Part three was the cool lush hills and rich farmlands of Galicia. Galicia is where my reasons for embarking on this journey seemed to become more profound. When you spend a lot of time walking alone, your thoughts go deeper than they do in a typical day. I also think that you take onboard slightly the thoughts and reasons of others. People are here to escape from things, to deal with things, to get closer to God, to eat great Spanish food, to get closer to themselves, to get closer to their fellow human beings, to think about their futures, to find a wife, for the adventure, for the exercise or because they have always wanted to do it and didn’t really know why. Or all
Santiago de Compostela
About to continue onwards to the coast. of the above.
The final stage, from Santiago to the coast, the temperature increased again as the sea became ever closer and the path passed through some of the nicest scenery of the whole trip. Along this section of the Camino my reasons for walking seemed to be because I just could no longer imagine doing anything else. I was having a great time with great friends so why stop? I was as fit as a fiddle, my pack and I were one, I had a great tan, let’s keep going. Unfortunately, after a few additional days, someone put the Atlantic Ocean in the way.
Not to be thwarted so easily, after a day on the beach and the ritual flaming sacrifice of hiking attire below Finisterre lighthouse, we continued northwards to Muxia.
In wet and miserable Muxia the yellow scallop shells and arrows stop. You can no longer avoid the inevitable and have to accept that your Camino experience, or at least the walking aspect, has come to an end.
Buen Camino!
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Sil
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Camino anthology
I am collecting camino stories for an anthology I hope to have published later this year. Do you have any to share? Before, during, after: on the road, off the road: angels, demons, strange-but-true: coincidences, serendipity: wonderful people, characters etc etc. You can send them to sillydoll (at) gmail (dot) com. If you add your name, you will be given credit for the story. un abrazo, Sil