Day 31 – Santiago de Compostela

Santiago de Compostela!!  Where to begin? The easy part is to confirm we’ve made it, in fact Jannik and I arrived yesterday, but it was way too emotional an experience to put anything into words that wouldn’t have sounded complete psychobabble!

The walk through the modern outskirts of town seemed to take forever, but at last we turned the corner into the plaza and the cathedral rose majestically in front of us. We hugged and congratulated each other – there’s a lot of hugging on the Camino! 

“What have we done?” I asked him. ” I don’t know” he responded, before softly repeating the same words.  But whatever it is, it feels rather special. 

Carmen and Alex arrive in town

Some more recent Camino friends Carmen and Alex turned up in the afternoon as did Johann, a young German guy that we’d not seen for 3 weeks.  He had sprinted ahead of his group to catch an earlier flight to surprise his mother for her birthday.  

We spent a couple of hours just lying on the ground in the plaza in the warm sunshine looking around and up at the cathedral, trying to take everything in.  We heard some cheering nearby and looked across to see a young pilgrim propose to his girlfriend on bended knee. She accepted, they kissed and hugged and a ripple of applause grew to a crescendo as the hundreds of people congregating in the plaza recognised the occasion. What a Camino they were having. 

Cathedral view from our albergue

Botafumeiro

Just off his bended knee

We attended the Pilgrims mass at 7:30pm, the cathedral was completely packed. The nun leading the singing had the most beautiful crystal voice and the Botafumeiro or swinging of the incense was incredibly impressive. There was an announcement that mobile phone camera must not be used, but just about everybody took theirs out and filmed this part of the ceremony. Including yours truly, I’m ashamed to say. 

Although mass is held primarily for Catholic pilgrims to give thanks to God for helping them achieve their goal, anybody is free to attend and I found myself appreciating all the non-pilgrim Catholics in attendance for supporting us. 

The next morning we collected our Compostelas – the certificates proving our pilgrimage, and returned to the main plaza to look out for people we knew.  Leo was already there absorbing the moment and there followed the mandatory hugging and photos.  Some time later, Liz, Susan and Shimmy entered the plaza. They were holding hands and sharing the moment. At a distance we could see them wipe away tears as they hugged each other and we left them to enjoy their own personal moment of arrival. 

Shortly after they joined us… Yes, more hugging, and they too sat for ages taking in the enormity of their adventure in front of the glorious cathedral. After a time, it all starts to fit into place, but no two peregrinos Caminos are ever the same. The common thread is simply that we’ve all done it and feel a huge sense of achievement, but I cannot begin to suggest the emotions that are going through the others.Later in the day I returned to the cathedral and lit a candle for Pete and Fong and prayed for the sick mother of Scirocco, the owner of a small hotel we stayed at, who asked me to pray for her when I reached Santiago.  How likely it is that the prayers of an atheist will be answered I’m not sure, but perhaps God will turn a blind eye on this one occasion.

We’d been recommended a smart hotel for Saturday night that had one floor devoted to pilgrims.  If fellow guests inadvertently took the lift to the 4th floor they’d have thought they’d stepped into the servants quarters. Our rooms were very simple with no adornments, but clean and with a basic but functional en-suite. Best of all though, they were single rooms, not twins or dormitories!  And cheap to boot, probably 25% of what the guests in the lowers floors were paying. We all ate breakfast in the same room, although the giveaway is that pilgrims eat as much as possible and probably appear extremely greedy… I think of food as little more than fuel at present, mentally calculating how long it will be before needing the next snack!

Our hostel / hotel on the far left.

What has the Camino achieved for me? I honestly don’t know, other than I feel re-energised after sharing an amazing adventure with the most wonderful bunch of people for the last month or so. I’ve never experienced such a prolonged period of goodwill, affection, kindness and generosity of spirit as from my fellow peregrinos, and not forgetting the local peoples of the Basque Country, Cantabria, Asturia and Galicia, who enhanced the adventure with their consistently warm welcome.  At least 20 or 30 times a day I’ve been wished a ‘Buen Camino’. 

There have been terrific highs and some awful lows, but I’m sure the blister days will become blurred over time. The Camino takes from you, yet the Camino always provides. 

Not for one moment have I missed my former life, equally there are absolutely no regrets about leaving the Camino and returning to the real world, although this world feels pretty real right now.  The only sadness is the natural disbursement of our Camino family, not for the Camino itself.  So many pilgrims are on their 3rd, 4th or even 5th Camino. It has that inexplicable draw and I know this will not be my last. 

I would recommend it to anyone and everyone. A single person would be amongst friends from the first day.  For someone feeling a tad lonely, that is not possible on the Camino, although the time needed for yourself is always respected. 

I’d love to be more like Leo, who is not interested in certificates to prove you’ve walked a Camino.  For him this is just part of a bigger journey. He absorbs so much of what’s around him and this is what makes him the rich, worldly person he has become…. And the fact he’s Italian and could charm the birds from the trees.  I love him! 

Yet this is not quite the end of the chapter. Like Martin Sheen in ‘The Way’, we have another mission before getting on the plane home… And my feet are already itching to get started!

Post script: We walked around the corner from the plaza back to our hostel to be greeted by Victor, escorting his partially sighted father as they approached the end. Nobody could have looked happier and more elated. Nobody or nothing could better encapsulate the spirit of the Camino. 

Days 19 and 20 – The ‘Big Decision’, grit and grime.

Approaching the half way point and agonising over the Big Decision. Whether to carry straight on or to turn left.. To remain with my companions or to strike out alone.  To finish the Camino del Norte or transfer to the Camino Primitivo. There were pros and cons for both scenarios, but ultimately it turned out to be an easier decision than envisaged. 

Parting of the ways

 

I’d originally planned to do the Primitivo as it goes more into the heartland and hills of Northern Spain and offers greater solitude. But that was at a time when this was likely to be my one and only Camino. It won’t be. One day I’ll return and take on the Primitivo. This time around I’ll finish the Norte. 

I think my companions were happy with the decision… I daren’t ask them (!), but it does make booking accommodation easier as a ‘four’.  My fear was that walking as a small group restricts the opportunities to meet other peregrinos, and this is true when we book private accommodation such as tonight, but not when staying at albergues. Anyway, we’re not exactly falling over each other on the trails and respect each others’ need for private time. 

Tonight’s accommodation is fabulous and cheap. A 3 bed apartment for just 60 euros for the 4 of us, we really needed somewhere special to stay, ideally with a washing machine after yesterday’s endeavours, and this ticks every box. 

Yesterday was the worst day by far and not one to be repeated.  The route between Gijon and Alvilés passes directly by the industrial grime of the heavy industry prevalent in this part of Spain.  Fifty chimneys belching clouds of smoke in 50 shades of grey. 

In the morning the wind and light drizzle were hitting our faces as we walked straight towards these massive plants. The acrid smell stuck in my lungs and breathing was uncomfortable. Buildings, roads, even the flora and fauna seemed impregnated with a ferrous coloured grime. Many houses were empty and derelict. It was almost like a post apocalyptic movie set. 

On a serious note, it is no surprise that this area of Spain was recently designated one of the pollution hot spots of Western Europe and male life expectancy in the region is the lowest in Spain. 

As we approached Alvilés the story was similar. It’s amazing these plants still operate. I’m sure they’d be shut down in th UK, there was no sign of modernisation anywhere. 

Yer even during as foul a day’s walking as this, there were high points. The local population in Asturia really seem to embrace peregrinos and cannot be more helpful in showing us the way, even walking with us to make sure we’re on track.  In the heart of the industrial mire, we came across this little ‘aid post’ for pilgrims.  Incredibly thoughtful and kind, which uplifted our spirits during this dire section of the Camino.  

Free supplies for needy peregrinos

Our lodgings for the night were surrounded by high rise apartment blocks in the outskirts of Alvilés: we hardly ventured out after checking in and were glad to be on the move today. We were surprised what a pleasant contrast the centre of the town was in comparison with its surrounds and that helped set up today’s much more pleasant walking to our excellent accommodation tonight. 

Alvilés centre

We’ve so far been unable to find suitable accommodation for tomorrow night… Oh well, another day, another challenge! 

Days 15 to 18 – Snails, slugs and ear worm

During the early days of the Camino, my rucksack weighed heavily on my back. Although it’s packed weight is only 9kgs, with water, food, extra meds and the essential  purchase of a new pair of sandals, it’s total weight is closer to 12kgs. 

It was my cross to bear, always conscious of its presence but carried without complaint, accepting that’s how it is supposed to be.  Yet after 2 weeks on the Way, it no longer feels like a burden. 

We have morphed into a small ‘escargatoire’ of snails, carrying our homes on our backs.  No longer do rucksacks weigh us down, they have become an integral part of us, our life support system containing all we need to survive. 

At nighttime we shed our homes and become slugs as we meander into town for dinner, fatigued with aching limbs, searching for nourishment. 

30 km days have become the norm and with feet that are much better managed and our loads feeling a part of us, it is easier to take in all the fabulous sights and scenery around us 

We’ve been roaming much deeper into Asturia, flanked by the Picos de Europa mountains to our left and the Atlantic to our right, and after 7 days and 210 more kms in the legs, we have halted for a well earned break in Gijon.

There is plenty of time for solitary walking during the day, and I’m being repeatedly attacked by a condition known as ‘ear worm’ , a blight that affects all peregrinos. Ear worm is highly contagious and once caught is virtually impossible to remove during the Camino.   It can best be described as the song that never leaves your head, that marches in time with you. 

For me, it is Tony Christie / Peter Kay’s ‘Is this the way to Amarillo?’ Or rather: ‘Is this the way to Santiago?’, which has a great cadence when walking on flat terrain or downhill, but doesn’t work so well when plodding slowly uphill. 

The Proclaimers’ ‘I would walk 500 miles’ works too and has a certain significance, being just short of the distance of the Norte.  And somehow the Beatles ‘Eight days a week’ remains stuck in my head.

We are still broadly following the coast and our arrival at the Albergue Juvenil in Ribadesella was a revelation. In this impressive building, set right on the sea front, we had a private room – or as private as a shared room with 4 former strangers can be! On opening the bedroom door we were greeted with the view below. “Wow!” was the collectice exclamation.  We had a great evening in Ribadesella. 

After 2 weeks of walking we’re pretty good at finding the route signs but somehow we still managed to end up lost in a field the other day. We strode on in a general westerly direction and several fields later I looked behind to see a trail of peregrinos following us. The blind following the blind. Gamely pretending we knew the way, we confidently carried on and sure enough, after a few kms we reassuringly found ourselves back on track.  We never let on that we’d no idea where our trail would end up! 

Yesterday was a tough day as shortly after leaving our delightful private Albergue near the small hamlet of Sebrayo, we had a sharp 400m climb in the sun. Near the top, a female Peregrino was walking unsteadily, holding her leg.  She reassured us that she was ok but our new American friend from the previous night, Cher, didn’t believe her and seconded a car and driver (and his wife!) from a nearby village to whisk her away for medical attention.  

It can be easy to feel that asking for assistance is a sign of failure, but there is no ‘failure’ on the Camino. You’re not letting anyone down if you walk slowly or even take a break for some time to see the sights or recover from an injury or illness, and recognition of this is a positive learning experience for many peregrinos. 

One of the benefits of many of the privately owned albergues is their small size and the armosphere created over the pilgrim’s dinner prepared by the owner. Such was the case at Sebrayo with a mix of English, German, American, Lithuanian and Austrian guests around the dinner table. Brexit is a standard topic of conversation and I’ve adopted standard answers to please all nationalities, except the Germans of course. They’re still very sensitive over Volkswagen..😀

After an overnight stop outside Gijon, we wandered lazily into the city this morning, dropped our rucksacks off at the centrally located private Albergue and went off to explore, just like proper tourists for the day. I like Gijon very much. It feels alive, with a big heart. We ate well, watched on tv Sporting Gijon being thrashed 5 – 0 by Barcelona, the match was being played live just down the road from us, before retiring to our rooms around 10:30pm, just as the  city starts to come alive on a Saturday night.

It is now midnight and in an adjacent apartment a noisy crowd are enjoying themselves. I can’t see them stopping for some time. Memo to self to not deliberately bang doors when getting up at 6:30am tomorrow morning.  On the other hand…

Days 5 to 8 – Ecstasy to agony

Sitting in the waiting area at Gernika hospital on the morning of day 6 said it all.  In the end I walked 28kms the previous day but clearly tried too hard for too long and the price was unbearable pain on the ball of my left foot and my large right toe. The pain in the other 5 or 6 blisters is relatively bearable.

Blisters are a part of many peregrinos’ Camino experience, although not one I’d recommend.   Searching for an upside at being forced to take time out from walking is not easy but here goes.. a) it has been too hot at times for walking (up to 39c), b) the next 2 stages include long, boring sections through the industrial outskirts of Bilbao, c) Bilbao itself is a fascinating city for a short break

I should have stopped walking a day earlier but my thinking was that it would be easy to bale out at any time on day 5 if my feet gave me too much trouble and take the bus to Bilbao.  That didn’t happen as I was enjoying myself way too much despite the pain. We passed some beautiful monasteries and churches as the Camino took us more inland.  In retrospect, it was a big mistake to keep going. 

Back at the hospital in Gernika, I received the worst of news.. No more walking. “For how long?” I asked the doctor, who must have treated many similar cases and showed little sympathy. He said up to a week.. “A week?  You can’t be serious!  Should I see a podiatrist?” He told me they could do nothing. He said compeed blister patches, open toed footwear and complete rest is the only answer. 

I left the hospital feeling totally dejected and hobbled to the chemist to top up on medical supplies before boarding the bus to Bilbao. 

Warning – page down to avoid gory toe photo

It would be good to say it looks worse than it is, but that’s unfortunately not true. It is sore, painful and at risk of infection.  I decided to start a course of Metronidazole, the antibiotics in my medicine kit brought along for such an eventuality. 

On to the positives…. I’m spending 3 or 4 days in Bilbao. The first night I stayed with my 4 German friends in a Pension in the old quarter.  Full of charm, with its narrow streets, bars selling all sorts of pintxo (Basque tapas), artisan shops and boutiques. We ate well in the picturesque Plaza Nueva. 

In the cities the Camino signs are often built into the walls or streets, such as this one in Bilbao’s old quarters. 

Yesterday morning it really hit home when my walking companions of the last week put on their rucksacks and prepared to leave for the next stage of their walk. We said our goodbyes but promised to catch up in a few days somewhere between here and Santander. 

Booking.com found me an apartment for 2 nights, in the smart commercial centre of Bilbao, on the other side of the river. Way over budget, but I thought sod it, let’s make something good out of this…..

And that’s where I am right now.. From living the life of a humble pilgrim, sharing dormitories, washrooms, feeding areas etc with up to 40 other people, to staying in a modern apartment with space, all modern appliances, big tv, large bed etc. 

And how I miss the company of my fellow peregrinos and the simple, basic life on the Camino. Right now I’d trade any of this to be with them, even sleeping on a bed bug ridden mattress in a grotty Albergue with Max snoring loudly on the bunk above. 

But one thing’s for sure, just like Arnie, I’ll be back, and meanwhile there’s no time for moping.. Off to visit the Guggenheim!

Camino Day 0

The last few days have been total contrasts. The elation of seeing my beautiful niece Jemma get married on Saturday, followed yesterday by the sadness and disbelief of the funeral of one of my loveliest and closest friends, Fong.  

Sitting in the departure lounge at Southampton airport smiling at Jemma’s photos, then the tears silently welling up whilst listening to the lyrics of the Squeeze song ‘Some Fantastic Place’, Adrian’s moving address at the funeral. 

Now sitting in the plane, waiting for take off and thoughts move to Biarritz.. How to get from the airport to my hotel in Irun tonight.  It will be fine… ‘The Camino provides’ they say.  I sure hope so! 

And of course it was fine… The bus went from outside the airport directly to the border; a short yomp into Spain in 30c heat and now in my Irun hotel room.  

Felt strangely resentful paying 59 euros for a room when on the rest of the walk the ‘albergues’ cosr between 5 – 20 euros… Ok, they’ll be bunk beds in hostels and no en-suite but… 

Two highlight today were being recognised by a beggar in the street as too poor to ask for money, and the first stamp on my Camino Passport or ‘Credenciál’…. I am officially a pilgrim ….‘Un Peregrino’!