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Five years later...

JohnLloyd

Veteran Member
Time of past OR future Camino
Francés (2018), Português (2019), Inglés (2022)
Five years ago today, I arrived in Biarritz, ready to begin my first Camino.

Since then, I’ve walked two more routes, the Português and the Inglés, a trio of tremendous experiences on the Way.

Now, I’m somewhat hamstrung by a nerve injury that’s making it hard work to walk the 2kms to work and back every day.

So, I hope you’ll forgive me for wanting to virtually walk the Francés again.

On this thread, I’ll post a pic or two and include my blog post for the day.

Anyone who has walked the Camino will recognise the feeling that the early days were like the beginning of a great book.

You knew that an adventure lay ahead and that it might just be one of the greatest things you would ever do.

Biarritz had one of those stories too.

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Back in 1957, a Californian dude turned up here with a longboard and basically introduced surfing to an entire continent.

Just imagine the looks on everyone’s faces when he first went out.

 
The focus is on reducing the risk of failure through being well prepared. 2nd ed.
The 2024 Camino guides will be coming out little by little. Here is a collection of the ones that are out so far.
Hi John—I arrive in Biarritz next week and will begin the Frances on Aug 31–my first time. I am a bundle of nerves and excitement! Thanks so much for your post!
 
Hi John—I arrive in Biarritz next week and will begin the Frances on Aug 31–my first time. I am a bundle of nerves and excitement! Thanks so much for your post!
Hey Shells - I recognise those feelings and I can reassure you that it's all going to work out just fine.

If I could do it, I'm sure you'll be able to do it as well.

The one piece of advice I'd give is to take it easy on yourself in the first few days.

Listen to your body, take breaks and look after your feet. Once you've got over the Pyrenees, the confidence you'll gain from that will make every step a little lighter.

The first week will be a physical test and your body will resist and complain. But sooner or later, it'll accept that this is the plan for the next few weeks and you'll grow stronger every day.

If you haven't already selected an albergue in St-Jean, I recommend Beilari. The spirit and support on offer there is the perfect preparation for a Peregrino.

Buen Camino!
 
3rd Edition. More content, training & pack guides avoid common mistakes, bed bugs etc
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From Biarritz to Bayonne, and then up into the foothills of the Pyrenees to St-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

The sense of expectation rose with the altitude, looking up at the towering mountains that lay ahead.

Napoleon and Charlemagne had come this way, and now it was my turn.

But that was for tomorrow - St-Jean and its pretty cobbled streets were calling, and I was on the hunt for filming locations from "The Way", and I had to get my credencial stamped.

It was Camino Eve!

 
Hey Shells - I recognise those feelings and I can reassure you that it's all going to work out just fine.

If I could do it, I'm sure you'll be able to do it as well.

The one piece of advice I'd give is to take it easy on yourself in the first few days.

Listen to your body, take breaks and look after your feet. Once you've got over the Pyrenees, the confidence you'll gain from that will make every step a little lighter.

The first week will be a physical test and your body will resist and complain. But sooner or later, it'll accept that this is the plan for the next few weeks and you'll grow stronger every day.

If you haven't already selected an albergue in St-Jean, I recommend Beilari. The spirit and support on offer there is the perfect preparation for a Peregrino.

Buen Camino!
Thanks so much, John. I really value your advice and insights. Please continue your virtual Camino—I will be anticipating a preview of the upcoming journey.
 
A selection of Camino Jewellery
Thanks so much, John. I really value your advice and insights. Please continue your virtual Camino—I will be anticipating a preview of the upcoming journey.
I will - and feel free to ask any questions that come to mind.

Meanwhile, I collected all of my Camino blog posts into an eBook, so you can read the whole thing in one go. It may be useful and it won't be a spoiler, because every Camino is different!

My albergue recommendations may still be helpful, but five years and Covid will have changed many of them, I'm sure.

Don't buy it on Amazon - wait until tomorrow, as I've just made it a free download for a few days. Click the link in my signature or look for it on your country's version of Amazon at some point tomorrow.

Then you can read it on your phone.
 
I will - and feel free to ask any questions that come to mind.

Meanwhile, I collected all of my Camino blog posts into an eBook, so you can read the whole thing in one go. It may be useful and it won't be a spoiler, because every Camino is different!

My albergue recommendations may still be helpful, but five years and Covid will have changed many of them, I'm sure.

Don't buy it on Amazon - wait until tomorrow, as I've just made it a free download for a few days. Click the link in my signature or look for it on your country's version of Amazon at some point tomorrow.

Then you can read it on your phone.
Wow, John, thanks! What a wonderful gift! Thank you so much! I will value your impressions and insights.
 
The one from Galicia (the round) and the one from Castilla & Leon. Individually numbered and made by the same people that make the ones you see on your walk.
It was about this time, five years ago today, that I stumbled my way into the medieval monastery that serves as the albergue at Roncesvalles.

I'd started from St-Jean-Pied-de-Port a little after 7am, and the 25km up-and-down over the Pyrenees had been a baptism of fire, but I'd made it.

And that meant I'd avoided the fate of Daniel Avery, the ghostly character at the centre of The Way, the film that had led me here in the first place.

That was a good start.

 
Wow, John, thanks! What a wonderful gift! Thank you so much! I will value your impressions and insights.
Hi John—I couldn’t seem to find it—can you tell me its title?
 
The 2024 Camino guides will be coming out little by little. Here is a collection of the ones that are out so far.
It’s in my signature and here’s a link to the .com version of Amazon.


If you’re elsewhere in the world, look for that title on your version of Amazon!
Got it! Thanks so much, John! You are so generous to share this! It means a lot to me.
 
Got it! Thanks so much, John! You are so generous to share this! It means a lot to me.
You're welcome!

That was the purpose of writing the book - to offer a little window on the experience for future pilgrims.

I'm sure that you will find yourself writing similar words, once you're on the Way.

Buen Camino!
 
The second day, leaving the safe haven of Roncesvalles and the Pyrenees behind, and getting into my stride on the Way.

Heeding the advice of Camino guru John Brierley, I was taking it easy on this stretch, calling a halt at Zubiri and not overdoing things in these early days.

That made it possible for me to notice things, rather than just walk.

Recycled jeans, for example.
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This would be the only day on my first Camino when I needed my poncho and rucksack cover.

Spain was smiling upon me.

 
Train for your next Camino on California's Santa Catalina Island March 16-19
It was Martin Sheen and “The Way” that had first taught me about the Camino, and there had already been a few reminders of that lovely film in these early days on the path.

En route to Pamplona, there was Dan at his refreshment stall, who’d met him during filming.

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And there was a bridge that I thought I recognised, where he almost lost his rucksack.

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But this wasn’t quite right, and I began to understand that a little bit of Hollywood style had been added to the story.

It didn’t matter much - the film had inspired me to walk the Way, and I already understood that every Camino is different anyway.

And I was different too.

Before I began walking 15-20 miles a day, I’d have never considered eating a spinach omelette…

 
Walking the Camino brings you many gifts, and perhaps the most valuable among those is meeting fellow pilgrims from all over the world.

A wild mix of cultures and backgrounds, coming together in common purpose, sharing stories, and keeping each other company along the Way.

Sometimes, those breathless chats took an unexpected turn, and that’s what happened when I met “Edwin” on the climb from Pamplona up to Alto del Perdón.

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Looking back on my recollection of that conversation, five years on, it’s still one of the most unbelievable Camino chats I’ve ever had.

But the true value of that day was reaching Alto del Perdón, where the “path of the wind crosses the path of the stars”, another of the famous landmarks I’d seen in “The Way”.

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And another moment of exultation, realising I was making good progress on my Camino, capable of these steep climbs, and endlessly rewarded with beautiful views.

I wonder where “Edwin” is now…

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/08/...-the-king-of-sweden-is-actually-called-edwin/
 
The fifth day of my Camino, and at last, my body began to rebel at the punishment I was putting it through.

A blister, a blistering hot day, and a few steep climbs were challenging my commitment to sticking to the Brierley stages - was I going to make it to Estella or not?

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Eventually, common sense got the better of me, and I peeled off the path at Villatuerta, to rest and recuperate at the marvellously named Casa Magica, where I discovered the benefits of a shower chair for the first time in my life.

And their lovely hammocks.

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My gratitude for both inventions knew no bounds.

Over dinner, I was reassured by the other pilgrims that it didn't matter that I hadn't completed the Brierley stage that day - you had to listen to your body and stop when it felt right.

That was an important lesson.

 
The 2024 Camino guides will be coming out little by little. Here is a collection of the ones that are out so far.
The sixth day brought a few tests - the fierce heat, which compelled me to a shorter stage than I'd hoped for, and some minor irritations at the albergue.

But reading my blog post for the day again, five years later, I think I can detect that my Camino was already moving from a physical test of endurance into a more thoughtful and emotional journey.

Someone had told me that walking the Camino would come in stages like that - physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual phases had been mentioned.

When I first began walking, I thought I'd be listening to podcasts or music as I walked.

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That had stopped by the second day.

Instead, I was enjoying countless fascinating chats with my fellow Camino compadres, I was listening to the sounds and rhythms of Nature, and I was thinking unusual thoughts.

My mind had been given the privilege of peace and calm - and it was firing in novel ways that were illuminating and refreshing.

Connections were being made, both with people and in my consciousness, and the path ahead grew ever more intriguing as a result.

The free red wine at Irache probably helped too.

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But that little treat was far exceeded by the community and camaraderie that I discovered at the Dutch confraternity albergue at Villamayor de Monjardin.

Hogar was heaven, and remains in the top three of all the albergue experiences I had on my first Camino.

The load was lightening, and the steps were getting easier.

 
One week of walking had been completed, and I was well into my stride now.

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Rising early and walking before dawn for the first time, I was treated to a spectacular Spanish sunrise, and the vistas were truly magnificent.

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Seeing my shadow extend far down the path ahead was an amusing sight as well.

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And I was learning that it was always a good idea to look behind you, as much as ahead.

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Arriving in Viana after a 30km stretch, my longest yet, I was told of a book by two friends who had completed the Camino, with one pushing the other in a wheelchair.

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Suddenly, my efforts that day paled by comparison!

Another important lesson - every Camino is different, and the effort involved varies with circumstance.

30 kilometres was a mighty achievement for me and I had earned a treat, a private room in a little hotel with a shower that wasn’t shared with dozens.

Patrick and Justin had earned much more than that.

 
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Timing is everything, as the saying goes.

Now that I was walking with increasing confidence, and the physical test was reducing daily, I was noticing far more things along the path than ever before.

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To such an extent, that I was now carefully stepping around columns of ants as they made their commutes across my path, weighed down by twigs and leaves.

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Just because I didn’t have to go to work right now, I should still be considerate of others who still had a job.

I even had time to notice that Spain had Little Ants and Big Ants. I hoped that they got on with each other.

I was now in La Rioja, famous for its earthy and full-bodied wines, and I arrived in its capital, Logroño, around 9 a.m.

Walking through, I saw mazy streets filled with bars and restaurants and cursed my timing. But they were all closed.

What a city this would be to spend an evening in!

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But even though I was not a worker ant, I still had a destination to reach, so I had a banana and pushed on to Navarrete.

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It was OK - they had plenty of wine there too.

 
€2,-/day will present your project to thousands of visitors each day. All interested in the Camino de Santiago.
Walking the Camino requires you to get used to sharing space with strangers and learning tolerance for their little foibles.
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Sometimes that tolerance is tested, as it was on this day five years ago when someone forgot to put their phone on “silent” and a room full of sleeping pilgrims were woken before dawn by an unwanted alarm.
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That little indiscretion set me off on a train of thought that day, which has become a lifelong amendment.

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My phone has been on “silent” ever since.
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One switch changed my relationship with the all-knowing device that lurks in my pocket forever.
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It can be hard to hold on to all the lessons of the Camino at times.

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But that one stuck.

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On this day five years ago, I walked from Azofra to Grañón, where I would have one of “those” Camino experiences that live forever in your mind.


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But that was to come.

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Before I got there, a perfect Spanish morning saw me walking through golden fields under azure skies.

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An encounter with an older pilgrim who was sending his rucksack forward ahead of him made me think about judgement and relative values.

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Reading my blog now, five years later, it seems that I hadn’t detected much criticism for those pilgrims that sent their packs ahead each day.

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Reading Camino forums now, I wonder if that has changed. I hope not.
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We each walk our own Way.

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Looking back on the albergues I stayed at on my first Camino in 2018, more than a few stand out, for one reason or another.

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Sometimes, a particular combination of Camino compadres made for a memorable evening.

On others, it was the prettiness of the village, or the quality of the communal meal, or even the strength of the showers in the albergue.

Every now and then, everything combined to produce an evening that would live long in the memory.

San Juan Baptista in Grañón was one of those places.

Things were said, lessons were learned, bread was broken with people from all over the world, and we witnessed a moment of extraordinary empathy and comfort for a stranger.

An evening of great significance in more ways than one.

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/03/the-biography-of-silence/
 
Holoholo automatically captures your footpaths, places, photos, and journals.
Walking through Spain on the Camino takes you on a path through history as well.

A melting pot of cultures and communities, religions and empires have risen and fallen along the Way.

Occasionally, there are dark reminders of the consequences of those changes, and as I left Villafranca Montes de Oca five years ago today, I knew I would pass one of these.

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There's a memorial to three hundred victims of the Spanish Civil War on a lonely hilltop just outside the village, and I planned to pay a silent tribute to them.

Instead, a medical emergency intervened, and I found myself in a group of people providing assistance to a fellow pilgrim.

Happily, all turned out well, and in an unlikely turn of events, I would meet this person again at another significant point on the Camino, far further down the trail.

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But in the meantime, I was struck by the coincidence of the day's events.

In a place cursed by history, where evil had once reigned, strangers from all over the world had come together to care for a stricken fellow pilgrim.

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Love and empathy were in the ascendancy again.

 
After the medical incident at the war memorial outside Villafranca Montes de Oca, a few of us walked together, trying to make sense of the morning’s events.

It had taken a bite out of our day, and perhaps our will, so the ambition to reach Burgos was beyond us.

Settling on Cardeñuela Riopico as an alternative resting place was the solution, which left us just a short walk to Burgos the following day.

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That enabled a lot of time to explore Cathedral of Saint Mary of Burgos, and pay homage to El Cid.

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And I allowed myself to be convinced to rent a bike to cover some of the Meseta.

It sounded like a good idea at the time, but I soon realised that it was a notable error.

I’d come to realise that one of the Camino’s great gifts were the endless reunions and reconnections with fellow pilgrims as you walked.

Instead of it being like “The Way”, where four peregrinos form an almost impenetrable gang, I had made friends with at least a couple of dozen people, an ever-changing group that found each other at cafes, bars and benches along the path.

The bike interlude took me far ahead of many of them, a cause for deep regret for a few days.

Of course, there were new friends to make, and unsurprisingly, I would see many of my old friends again further down the trail - it didn’t take that long for them to catch me up again…

But it led to a certain amount of discombobulation, with my blog entries reflecting that in a wild mix of emotions and reflections.

It would take a little while before I would reset my rhythm on the road.

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/06/conjunctions-and-orbits/

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/06/from-villafranca-de-montes-de-oca-to-cardenuela-riopico/
 
On this day five years ago, I met the Meseta for the first time.
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Scene of so many iconic photos of the Camino, it had been breathlessly described as one of the great tests on the Way.

Spain’s bread basket could also be an unforgiving oven, and so a short-term fix had been suggested.

Bikes rented from Burgos would take a couple of us across the Meseta more quickly, helping us catch up on our schedules to reach Santiago in good time.

So Johnnie Walker became Biker John for a day and a half, passing through Castrojeriz and aiming for Frómista.

It would be more than 60km covered in a day, the equivalent of two or three walking stages ticked off the list.

But the Camino isn’t about ticking off the kilometres - it’s about the journey.

And I quickly realised that speed wasn’t the key to this experience.

The bike would be returned as soon as possible!

One day, I will return and walk those speedily completed stages from Burgos to Sahagún.

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/07/burgos-and-bikes/

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/07/weather-with-you/
 
A selection of Camino Jewellery
This time five years ago, I’d just run over a butterfly, a further demonstration of my error in using a bike on the Camino.


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The senseless murder of a beautiful creature under my wheels was the final straw, and we resolved to give the bikes back at the next available town.

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We’d hand them back at Sahagún, which proclaimed itself as the “halfway” point on the Camino Francés.

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That meant we could take our time traversing the Meseta, sightseeing at churches along the way.
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Aiming at Terradillos Los Templarios, there was a 17-kilometre stretch of straight paths with little or no shade, and no cafes or food trucks to keep us going.
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Carrión de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza was tough enough in the saddle, and we checked on the welfare of a few struggling walkers as we passed them.

With mixed feelings about the bike interlude, I was cheered by the arrival of Matt from Northern Ireland, who was toting a solar-powered muffin oven and a portable speaker playing ABBA tunes.

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If he could cross the Meseta carrying all that kit, then I could make it on foot from now on too.

 
After 17 days on the Camino, I’d hit the halfway point of the French Way, at Sahagún.
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I was closer to the end than the beginning.

It was time for a proper rest day, which allowed me time to catch up on my blog posts from the last few days.

And, to prepare for a bipedal approach to the Camino, rather than by pedal - the bikes were cheerfully dispatched.

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It was an odd feeling, knowing that more of this experience lay behind me now, rather than ahead.


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Holoholo automatically captures your footpaths, places, photos, and journals.
Five years ago today, I was back in the old routine again and enjoying the long non-winding paths towards Burgos.
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It was splendid to be taking it slow, making friends with butterflies rather than running them over.

This was how it was supposed to be.
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Reading my blog from a distance of five years, I wonder about the situation with litter now.

I had hardly seen any, but I think I’ve seen more than a few comments in recent times suggesting that is no longer the case. Is that right?

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Right about now, I was arriving in Reliegos, and captured by the sight of Bar Elvis, there I stayed for a rather entertaining Saturday night.

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Sinnin ran his bar in a certain way, and I liked everything about it!

 
Holoholo automatically captures your footpaths, places, photos, and journals.
Five years ago today, I was well into my third week on the Camino, and entering its most dramatic phase.

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I’d anticipated a transition in the character of the Camino, from a physical test of endurance into a more cerebral and spiritual journey.

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My chat with Simon from Australia on the Meseta had helped me realise that no longer having any ambitions was actually a “Good Thing”.

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Learning to let old habits and mindsets slide away, and replacing those restraints with a simpler approach to life, was one of the Camino’s greatest gifts.

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But it was on this day, over a communal meal at a wonderful albergue in Villares de Órbigo that a real life lesson was delivered.

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There were two alcoholics at the table, with very different approaches to handling their condition.

One was self-medicating with a bottle of Bushmills, while the other had chosen a very different path.

Being present as these two approaches to life with addiction were demonstrated was a wild ride of an evening.

On the Camino, as in life, we all go our own Way.

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/09/zero-ambition/

https://johnelsewhere.blog/2018/09/11/go-your-own-way/
 
After The Eamonn Incident, I thought that I’d had all the drama I was likely to encounter on the Camino.

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It’s supposed to be a walk of serenity and spirituality, after all.

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Instead, after enjoying the glories of Gaudí’s Episcopal Palace at Astorga, and a wonderful evening at Casa las Aguedas in Murias de Rechivaldo, I found myself at the centre of another unexpected incident.

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A woman asked for help, to escape an unseen menace, another pilgrim who was controlling her somehow.

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Fear and fragility masked her face, and I knew swift action was required, even though I had little understanding of the circumstances.

The albergue staff and I helped her to feel safe and secure, and her oppressor was confounded.
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In the days to come, I would learn more about this strange situation from other pilgrims who had wondered about them too.

The Woman completed her Camino in peace, so there was, eventually, a happy outcome.

For many, the Camino was a Long Walk to Freedom, but for her, it had become a prison.

Even here, walking across Spain, sometimes you needed help to be free.

 
After all the dramas of the previous two days, what a relief it was to simply strap on my mochilla and walk in peace again.

Knowing we had done “The Right Thing” the night before was one thing, but the unexpected stress had been an unwanted reminder of human behaviour in the “Outside World” again.
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Walking through the beautiful stone-walled village of Castrillo de los Polvazares, a remnant of Maragatería culture, was helpful - it was so peaceful there.
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And there were happy reunions with fellow pilgrims from past days on the trail, even back to the first day in the Pyrenees.

The day’s ambition was to aim for the highest point on the Camino, at Cruz de Ferro.

With that in mind, we pushed on past Rabanal all the way to Foncebadón, where it took three Pineapple Soleros to restore my equilibrium.

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And then there was a Pilgrim Hamburger to send us off to bed, happily anaesthetised by food and wine.
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Just another day on the Camino, as it should be.

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If there was one place on the Camino that I was looking forward to seeing, it was Cruz de Ferro.

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Camino history had made it a place of great significance and meaning, where pilgrims would find comfort and resolution.

And a touching scene in “The Way” here had moved me greatly.

So arriving here at dawn was going to be a “Big Moment”, or so I thought.

But it wasn’t, at least not at first. Cruz de Ferro looked smaller and less remarkable than I had imagined.

I wasn’t carrying an emotional load, and had no “stone of significance” to set down here.

Maybe that made a difference.

But then something happened that changed my perception of Cruz de Ferro.

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While watching a stunning sunrise from the picnic tables nearby, I noticed a familiar face.

It was Martin, the young man who had collapsed by the Civil War Memorial several days earlier, outside Villafranca Montes de Oca.

Fully recovered, hale and healthy, his Camino had intersected with mine again here, at Cruz de Ferro.

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Of all the places we might have reconnected, it had to be here.

Of course.
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The walk down to Molinaseca with an ever-increasing group of compadres was one of the spectacular afternoons of my first Camino.
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The blackberries ripening en route were a joyful bounty, and the panoramic views from the Camino’s highest point were majestic.

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And the evening at Meson Puente Romano in Molinaseca was one of those special nights, where we all stayed up a little longer than we should have done.

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Cruz de Ferro had worked its magic on me.

 
After three weeks on the Way, I’d picked up a little more Spanish than I’d begun with.

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But I was still stumbling around more than I’d have liked.

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Being an Englishman comes with some natural advantages - the prevalence of my language in Western culture makes it easier than it should be to travel abroad without knowing the language at my destination.

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It always breeds a sense of embarrassment though, so on this day five years ago, I was more amused than I should have been to meet a Spanish dog called Barko.

That onomatopoeic name for a canine tickled me for the rest of the day, as did the Least Impressive Depiction of a Peregrino I’d seen to date.

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Beyond that, what a treat it was to see the Templar castle at Ponferrada.

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Should I return to the French Way, it’ll be one of those places to explore, rather than pass by.

 
Five years ago today, I was crossing into Galicia for the first time.

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That meant cresting O Cebreiro, perhaps the last great hill on the French Way, one more of the dozens of inclines that I had climbed since leaving St-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

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Up and down, over and over.

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Someone had told me that walking the Camino on this route would see you ascend 18 vertical kilometres, only to give all that altitude back by the time you reached Santiago de Compostela.

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The Camino is a metaphor for life - it’ll have its ups and downs, some easy paths and some very tricky scrambles, but it all pretty much balances out in the end.

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On the way to O Cebreiro, near Villafranca de Bierzo, I passed one of the most photogenic houses I think I've ever seen.

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Onwards, with the finishing line coming ever closer every day.

 
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Only on the Camino could the cost of your accommodation be lower than the cost of your food and drink for the day.
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That thought occupied my mind five years ago today, when one of my Camino compadres commented on my frequent OJ purchases along the Way.

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I hadn’t thought of it before, but it was quite clear.

Ten Euros for a bunk in the next albergue was easily outstripped by my daily combination of OJs, café con leches, napolitanas and bananas.
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Without the astonishing support system of albergues that line the route to Santiago, walking the Camino would be almost impossible.

If our nightly rest came at a “normal” cost, it might mean as much as €2000 for that alone.

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And then the Camino would become the preserve of the wealthy, rather than the more egalitarian experience that it’s known for.

Some albergues are absolutely fabulous, with wonderful hospitaleroes creating a welcoming atmosphere, offering splendid food and engendering memorable nights of laughter and cheerful conversation for all.

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There were the odd exceptions, where the facilities were lacking, or the staff was less connected to their roles.

One of the best aspects of the Camino is how it simplifies your life to just picking a place name from the guidebook and knowing there’s a haven waiting for you there.


All for the price of a couple of glasses of OJ and a Napolitana or two.

I’m not going to mention anything about bed bugs, fleas, uncertain shower temperatures, creaky bunkbeds, insufficient pillows and the necessity of earplugs for a good night’s sleep, as that would be quite ungrateful…

 
On this day five years ago, I reached the 100km mojone, the marker that told me that journey’s end was drawing near.

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But for many on the Camino, their journey had just begun.

Eager new peregrinos were joining us at Sarria, ready to start their walk to Santiago de Compostela.

A moment of confluence was about to occur - new and experienced pilgrims would soon be walking together.

Since I’d begun my journey in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port 28 days earlier, I’d been joined along the Way by a great number of fellow Pilgrims who started their own Camino somewhere else, like Pamplona, Burgos or León.

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I’d noticed that when describing their journey, the words “only” and “just” often featured.

“I only started in León”

“I’ve just been walking for a couple of days now”.

That sort of thing.

As if a Camino that didn’t rigidly follow the guidebook from St-Jean to Santiago is somehow a lesser thing.

Whenever this came up in conversation, I gently suggested that these qualifiers should be dropped.

Anyone who makes it to the beginning of a Camino, who might even complete a couple of stages, should consider themselves to have already completed an incredible journey.

Thinking about it is one thing.

Preparing for it is another.

Starting it, wherever it begins, is one of the biggest steps a person will ever take.

The number of steps that follow is not any more as significant as the first one.

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There should be no hierarchy, and certainly no sense of superiority for a longer distance covered.

Each new Pilgrim I saw was greeted with a hearty “Buen Camino” and encouragement and support.

They’d all taken that first step too.

 
As I walked through Galicia five years ago today, the sense of impending conclusion was growing stronger with each step, with all the range of emotions implied.

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Just like when you’re finishing a good and mighty book - the anticipation of journey’s end, a sense of completion and the satisfaction that goes with that.

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By now, my Camino compadres were stretched out in either direction, so I had a relatively peaceful day of walking and contemplation.

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Preparing myself for that ultimate conclusion that now lay just a couple of days away, it was great to bump into friends I hadn’t seen for days and to remind ourselves of the moments that we’d experienced together.

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Entirely appropriately, it was the International Day Of Peace, which was marked in fine style thanks to Gea of Aruba organising a circle of peace for a dozen of us to sit and listen to each other.

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We had a good go at defining what peace meant to us, the meaning of the Camino, and then we had a bit of a singsong, including an Eritrean folk song and “Don’t Look Back In Anger”, to which more people knew the words.

Sadly, it was not to be the International Night Of Peace, as our hopes of a good night’s sleep were shattered by a voluminous snorer who was already making the dormitory vibrate at 9.30 pm and continued to do so until we all gave up and got up at 6 am.

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Charitable thoughts were slightly harder to hold in those circumstances.

 

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Train for your next Camino on California's Santa Catalina Island March 16-19
Five years ago today, my first Camino came to an end with a symbolic trip to Finisterre, the End of the Earth.

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After powering myself across Spain for five weeks, it felt odd to take the coach from Santiago to Finisterre.

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We walked the last few kilometres from the town of Fisterra up to the famous 00km mojone, close to the lighthouse.

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For many Peregrinos, this place was the final step on their pilgrimage, and with a ritual burning of their clothes and a dowsing in the sea, they would begin anew, fresh and clean, in salvation.

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For me, another OJ was sufficient.

My clothes would certainly not be being burned either, not a chance.

Well, maybe one of the socks…

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I settled down to absorb the last hours of the afternoon, in anticipation of a sunset and a full moonrise to follow.

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When the moment came, it was truly breathtaking.

The meaningfulness of this sunset was almost a surprise to me, as I suddenly felt a sense of completion, as the last fraction of the Sun slipped beneath the horizon.

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It was done.

Now all that remained was to await the arrival of the Sun’s celestial dancing partner, and within half an hour, the Moon rose majestically into the opposing sky.

Those who witnessed those two transits will never forget the beauty painted on the heavens that night.

Little more could be added to the night, so it was time to wander back to Fisterra for a last vino tinto.

But there was one more sweet moment, as Guillermo pulled up to me and my friends to offer us a lift back down the hill.

Another Camino angel had stepped in at just the right time.

One more Camino moment to add to a mountain of memories.

 

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