I wrote in a New Year’s blog post about “rebalancing” my
life, feeling a need to spend more time on the “non work” parts and certainly
less time mired in the mind numbing world of social media.
So far that desire has resulted in a two week “no work” trip
to northern Sweden, Finland and Norway in January staying at the Ice Hotel,
snowmobiling, dog sledding, XC skiing and “chasing views” of the Northern
Lights as well as the more recent subject of this post. In September, I spent two
weeks in Spain, most of the time dedicated to walking the Camino de Santiago
aka “The Way of St. James” (Frances route).
The Camino has been walked for over 1,000 years and is one
of the world’s oldest Christian pilgrimages. The entire route is approximately
780 kilometers beginning in France and ending at a massive cathedral in
Santiago de Compostela, near the northwest coast of Spain. Thousands of
“pilgrims” walk all or a portion of the route each year. Given walking the
entire route takes the average “pilgrim” about 35 days, I only walked the final
~190 kilometers over an easily doable 10 days. Well, maybe not that easy. Those
that walk a minimum of the last 100KM and pick up a couple of stamps (aka
sellos) in a “Camino Credential” each day are rewarded with a “compostela” (certificate
of completion).
I went to Spain with my wife, Connie, three of her
siblings and their spouses. It is unlikely I would ever have taken the time to
do this on my own but Connie really wanted to do it and since I was asked a
year in advance, I responded “why not?” with no real knowledge of the Camino
except a vague recollection of seeing a movie about the trek called “The Way”
starring Martin Sheen.
Our group of eight people was of differing motivations, speeds
and expectations. We covered between 10 and 16 miles a day on the actual route
and once we stopped for the day I normally walked an additional mile or two
seeing the local area (or a least that is what my fitbit told me).
As spring 2019 turned into summer my bride decided she
needed to “train” for the Camino. Of course, the internet provided multiple
“training programs” to guide her efforts. Although I didn’t feel a specific
need to train and also felt my two college sport “better half” was up to the
challenge just by taking some longish walks for several weeks, if she wanted to
follow a “training program” – I was all for it. I happily joined her a few
times a week as she upped her mileage. Walking 14 miles in the sunny, humid
upper 90s of the North Carolina summer proved to be a confidence builder for
Connie.
I was actually more concerned about being bored out of my
mind walking most of the day every day for ten days. I am not sure why I felt
that way because I spent more than two decades doing twenty to thirty-mile marathon
training long runs about 30 weekends each year. I was never bored on those runs
and never listened to music, I just let my mind go where it would.
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| Had I known this awaited me I wouldn't have worried about boredom |
In attempt to give myself a ”pre Camino attitude
adjustment”, I bought and read four books detailing “Camino experiences”.
By the end of 4
th book I was
looking forward to heading to Spain. I wasn’t expecting (or seeking) a major
spiritual experience but it seemed the disparate authors all came to a common
conclusion – walking “The Way of St. James” was a significant and, in some
cases, a life changing experience. Seemed like a better use of my time than
tweeting…..
We landed in Madrid on a Saturday morning and made our way
west by car to Villafranca del Bierzo where we spent a couple days before
starting our walk. As part of the “pilgrim” experience we stayed in what I
would describe as “basic” hotels. Certainly nothing like what I stay in as a
relatively spoiled business traveler but that was part of the experience. I
loved the historic vibe of Villafranca and, as luck would have it, there was a
festival in town. We made our way to a city square and while enjoying tapas saw
an 18 wheeler navigate the narrow road into the square, contort itself into a
parked status and marveled as it became obvious the workers that suddenly
appeared were unloading an building a stage worthy of a top drawer rock band. A
few hours later we were back in the packed square marveling that this little
city was hosting such a well-produced event but as often is the case in my
posts I digress – back to the Camino.
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| Villafranca got our Camino off to a lively start |
Early on a Monday morning, about 48 hours after landing in
Spain, we began our trek to Santiago de Compostela. Our first leg was actually
one of the two or three most arduous of the entire ~ 780 km route since we took
the more difficult, steeper and scenic "upper" route out of the city. For almost an
hour we trod an oxygen sucking and sweat inducing path despite the cool morning
temperatures. By the time I got to the top of the first climb I was beginning
to wonder if I had overestimated my condition, underestimated the challenge or
both. Not to worry, the remaining several hours was much less challenging than
the first 60 minutes. We reached our hotel, quite nice by comparison
to our first accommodation, by mid-afternoon. In total, I walked 35,211 steps or 15.62
miles the first day. Because of the initial steep climb, I rated the day about
equal to a 20-mile marathon training run in degree of difficulty. A hot shower
and a few beers later, I was ready for dinner, sleep and day 2.
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| Day 1 started out with a long climb |
Having been told day one would be the hardest, I was
surprised when day 2 began with a climb almost as difficult although shorter
than day 1. Since our eight-person group had an average age in the mid 60’s our
daily trip plan wasn’t as ambitious as it could have been. Day 2 was only
24,000 steps or about 10.6 miles. We arrived before noon at one the highest
points (altitude wise) on the trek – the small town of O Cebreiro. By day 2, I
had developed an arrival routine of washing out my quick dry merino wool socks
and shirt and finding a place to hang them to dry, taking a quick shower and
finding the best spot to have a beer. The group descended on the tiny local super
mercado (aka supermarket) where we loaded up on meat, cheese, beer, wine and
water. Our hotel had outdoor tables and a great view so no restaurant was
required for lunch.
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| Day 2 |
At dinner I had one of my many enjoyable “cultural
exchanges”. As was the case on most nights, we had a “pilgrim meal” which many hostels, hotels and many restaurants along the Camino route offer for a fixed
price. We were to find quality of the offerings varied quite a bit. The meal is
normally a starter, a simple main and dessert. This particular evening, we ate
in a large, open room where a big group was already mid meal when we arrived.
They were speaking Mandarin – very loud Mandarin. As the noise level began to
irritate me, I decided I could be frustrated or be friendly. I chose the
latter. Picking up my wine glass I walked over to the table and toasted them in
Mandarin. The look of surprise was well worth the effort but just the beginning
of the payoff. The toast turned into a conversation which morphed into group
introductions and an invitation to attend mass at our next stop.
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| Dusting off my weak Mandarin but I got the point across |
It turned out
my new friends were a Taiwanese group led by a catholic priest who had lived in
Dallas for a year and a retired Taiwanese business man with a 5 handicap that
had lived in Dallas for more than 30 years. Since the majority of the group
didn’t speak English I had no way of knowing any of them spoke English until we
were about ten minutes into our chat and “Walter” came clean. It seemed he
enjoyed my struggle to chat in Mandarin.
We will come back to Team Taiwan soon.
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| I met "Father Joe" early in the day and a very large dog a little later |
September 18 aka day 3 began with a beautiful sunrise. I was
getting used to steep climbs out of the gate and took the attitude that it was good
to get them done early. Although we had an afternoon rain after we finished
yesterday, we had another beautiful day to walk. I ran into my newly minted Taiwanese buddy ironically named “Father Joe” early in the day. They started earlier but
walked more slowly. This became a pattern the next few days. Three days into
the experience a couple things were clear to me – I didn’t need all those
podcasts I downloaded or to listen to music. The battery on my headphones
remained fully charged and unneeded. Each day I walked alone 75% of the time.
Our group liked to get a few miles or two to three hours in before finding one
of the many small places to stop for coffee and snacks along the route. Once it
seemed time for a break I would stop and wait at a coffee place and let the
consensus decide whether this was the right place or if we would wait for a
better option. After separating from the group post our coffee break I heard
footsteps rapidly approaching behind me and was left in the dust by a young
blond hiker whose legs seemed about 6 inches longer than mine. Her speed was
impressive. About 20 minutes later I saw her standing by watching as a large number
of cattle were entering the path. She greeted me, wondered aloud about walking
alongside very large animals. I told her it would be fine. She tentatively
followed me and quickly realized a stampede was not in the offing. Ten minutes
later the cattle were in a new pasture and we walked and talked for about an
hour. The young lady who identified herself as Lizzy was actually doing the
entire route while taking a break from university in Vancouver. We parted ways
when I stopped to wait for my group but would see each other several more times
including at the finish. This was a typical interaction along the route.
Conversations with interesting people who often shared their reasons for being
on the Camino. For the record – day 3 was 36,344 steps / 16.14 miles.
Day 4 was another great day to walk. Looking down at clouds
in the valleys at times and at other times being cooled by fog before the sun
did its work and burned it off. The distance was almost exactly the same as the
prior day 35,944 steps and 16 miles; but the day became special after we
stopped walking and entered the hotel in Sarria. This is the last place where
you can begin a trek and still qualify for a compostela. A group of Irish
ladies was ending their Camino for this year, they will return to do the final section
next year and make it to the cathedral in Santiago. We had seen and spoken to
this friendly group from “the old country” several times. As I was exiting the
lobby to go to my room, I was stopped by a friendly face who proceeded to
explain that she wanted to give me her walking stick. At first I didn’t
understand so she explained they were leaving from home and she was following a
tradition by “gifting” her walking stick to me so that it could make it to the
cathedral. It was then my obligation to get it to Santiago or pass it on to
somebody that would. Not thinking, I started to decline but then quickly
realized I would be a real jerk if I didn’t smile and accept the gracious
offer. We took a picture of her presenting the stick to me and I pulled a business
card out of my pack so she could email me if she wanted to see how the “stick story”
ended. We parted and before I got to my room I knew who the next custodian of
the stick would be…..
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| Sights of Day 4 |
Late that afternoon, walking stick in tow, I my made my way
to a local monastery where my Taiwanese buddy was going to say mass. Despite a
very cool reception at the door, the local in charge seemed to wonder why a
white guy was attending the “Chinese mass”. Once I was in the chapel, it was
all smiles as my friends from the other side of the planet were all glad to see
me and no one questioned why a Camino pilgrim would be entering a church with a
big stick.
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| Eleanor gave the stick to me and I passed it along |
As soon as mass ended I presented Father Joe with the
walking stick. He was happy as was his entire group – it seemed the “gift”
cemented our new relationship. My possession of the stick was less than five
hours but who could be better to make the final 100 km westward journey with the
Celtic stick than a priest from the east. That’s my story and I’m sticking to
it. I felt a wave of positive “Camino karma” as I left the church and headed to
dinner.
By day 5, another 37,378 steps / 16.6 miles, I had already
decided that I was going to need a return trip to the Camino. I was enjoying
the hours of what I would describe as meditative solitude as I walked. I was
also enjoying the hours of social interaction with family and in some cases
strangers during breakfast, coffee breaks, our group daily happy hour and
dinner. Although I put a daily Camino picture on my personal twitter account
and made an occasional Facebook posts to keep family and friends in the loop, I
enjoyed the respite from “constant connectedness”. I felt like I was in a “flow
state” much of my walking time alone each day. What I used to call “runner’s
high” seems to have been renamed flow state in recent years but whatever the
case when you are running or walking for a couple of hours or more and it seems
like only a couple minutes have passed that is my definition of “flow”. Since
my knees no longer allow me to run 2,500+ miles a year the feeling of total wellbeing
from endorphins coursing through my veins doesn’t come as often as it used to
but it came every day on the Camino. That may sound like a bit of cosmic
rubbish to many but it is my reality. At the end of Day 5, I was having a beer with my brother in laws when Walter from Taiwan rushed up and said he needed my help. Father Joe was feeling ill and they needed to delay their mass time at the local church. The Taiwan group had heard me speaking spanish and assumed I could REALLY speak spanish. He wanted me to go to the church and negotiate a new mass time with the local priest. Fortunately my basic spanish was good enough to get the job done.
Days 6-8 The weather changed after five days of sun and we
had clouds, mist and bits of rain bringing cooler temps and easier walking. The
damp cooling towel I wore around my neck the first five days was retired. Days
6 was the longest day yet, 38,432 steps / over 17 miles. Our hotel was nicer
than normal and the coin laundry was a bonus. Our happy hour and dinner brought
several more bonuses. As we shared some wine before dinner, my sister in law
who recognized polish being spoken across the room initiated a singing session
in their native tongue with the friendly crew from central Europe.
At dinner, the table next to us was a Japanese group. This
time I toasted them with beer instead of wine but the shock on their face to
hear “white faced” Japanese was a high point for me. As it turned out one of
the group lived very close to where we used to live in Kobe. We would be keep
seeing each other over the next few days. Our fearless leader, my eldest
brother in law, happened on an Irish lady who was carrying a bottle of fine
Irish whiskey and a flask of 28-year-old. She is in the whiskey business but
since her walking companion doesn’t drink she decided to lighten her load by
giving an unopened bottle to us. She also shared shots from her flask of 28-year-old.
One of our more interesting dinners. Another highlight from the day 6 was meeting
a couple from Vancouver who didn’t have an EU charging adaptor for their IPhone
– not sure how that came up as we chatted but since I had a lithium charging
brick in my backpack I was able to walk with them until their IPhone was
powered up. They were so grateful for such a small thing. Once the phone came
to life, about a dozen or so text messages came in from worried relatives that
hadn’t heard from them.
Day 7 ended in Melide, the octopus capital of Spain.
I am a fan and this octopus rivaled anything I have ever had in Japan.
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| Day 7 found us enjoying world class octopus |
As day 8 dawned, with only three walking days
left I was beginning to feel a bit of sadness that the experience would soon be
over. As often happens, all my preconceptions about the trip had proven to be
off the mark. I was enjoying almost everything even the marginal hotels – we
met some great owners of these little places.
As time passed, the group learned to draw on our mantra that
we “are pilgrims not martyrs” which meant we got tired of lousy red wine that
came with many of the pilgrim dinners and began to buy good wine from the bar
or outside and bring it to the table. After all, a pilgrim can only endure so
much.
Day 9: the final two days were supposed to be shorter than
average but with side trips proved not to be the case. On the penultimate day I
clocked 37,778 steps or 16.79 miles. It was an unusual day in that I got
farther ahead of the group than I planned and stopped on a bridge entering the
town where I was told we would be having lunch. I figured if the group was on
the trail they had to cross the same bridge. Well, 20 minutes later they hadn’t
shown so I text Connie a picture of where I was and told her I was going to
have a beer and wait. Another 25 minutes passed and I got a text saying they
were only 2 km away from the hotel but I was 3 km away. Seems there are two
routes around this particular town – so I did what any pilgrim would do – I put
the hotel GPS coordinates in my phone and took the quickest route there which
happened to be on a highway and obviously a trucker’s route. Between trucks and
some large dogs it proved to be my most pulse elevating 3km of the trek.
Overcome by catholic guilt upon arrival... after lunch I backtracked on the Camino
path just to see what I had missed which is why it became a high mileage day.
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| The views were normally great but I enjoyed the cool fog too |
Final day. I really wanted to savor the last several kilometers of
the walk. We left in the dark so that we would have more daylight hours in Santiago.
I was actually glad the walk started with a relatively steep hill at what was
marked as 15km from the finish but was actually about 22 km away based on the
route we took which included a bit of a side trip to see a park where the pope
had said mass a few years ago. We stayed together more as a group on the final
day. From my perspective ten days had flown by. It had been fun spending so
much quality time with family even though most of the time I spent with them
was in the non-walking hours. Everyone seemed very happy about the experience.
Our last few kilometers were very urban which was kind of a shock back to the
normal world. For almost all of the ten days it was all pilgrims doing a common
thing – walking a path toward a goal. Once we hit Santiago proper, we were a
bit like oddballs making our way through city had to put up with a daily dose
of pilgrims on the last leg of a personal journey who were apt to step into
traffic or otherwise upset the
rhythm of a working metro area. I found it a fitting reentry but was even more
impressed by the rapid change back to a pilgrim dominated vibe when we entered
the cathedral square. I took in the reactions of all those around me: smiles,
tears, relief, high fives, etc.
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| All smiles at the finish |
My eyes were immediately drawn to a red headed lady standing
off in the distance. We had crossed paths many times over the ten days. Despite
the fact I didn’t know her name she seemed like an old friend. She had pressed
on and finished a day ahead of us but was just enjoying the spectacle of seeing
people finish. I finally learned her name was Patricia. Connie and I chatted with her for a few minutes. We knew she was
from Munich but got a little more of her story. She then told us the compostela
process had gone high tech and we should hurry over and get a number. Instead
of standing in snaking line of hundreds of people, you now can get a number
with a QR code on it, download an app and be updated on when your number will
be called. We got our numbers about 2PM, had lunch and realized we had gotten
about the last numbers given for the day as our times to present our
credentials for the compestela came up at the closing time of 8PM. Fully
documented we were off to a great “non-pilgrim” dinner.
We wanted to see the area and attend a pilgrim mass the next
day so we had booked rooms for a couple of nights in a hotel which was an old
monastery next to the cathedral.
We left Spain six days ago but I am still processing the
experience which for me was so much better than I expected. I enjoyed the
simplicity of focusing on nothing but the simple task of walking from one small
town to the next day after day and just taking in what my senses perceived.
Despite growing up in farm country, I have greatly expanded my olfactory
inventory of the various grades of cow, sheep and horse poop which wasn’t
overbearing but seemed to change by the day perhaps due to varying diets. This
was definitely both a physical and spiritual (not really religious) experience
for me. I couldn’t have done it with a better group of people.
Postscript -
Connie lost her prescription sunglasses not once but twice on the trip. Once when they fell out of her backpack on the trail and then on the final night in the hotel in Madrid. We were having lunch about 3km from where Connie had rearranged he backpack and lost the glasses. Connie realized the glasses were gone and had planned to walk back and find them. Fortunately a couple found them. Connie's name was in the case so as we finished lunch the couple appeared and asked if a "Constance Lowry is here".
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| Connie with the couple that found her glasses |
A very unlikely scenario. She parted ways again when she uncharacteristically left something in a hotel room. Upon arrival at home she called the hotel and they sent them to her by Fed-X.
