trekking poles and pocket knives are weapons.....
I think, right there, that you’ve identified why so many Albergue require that we leave our poles at the entry.
As to the pocket knife… I think that falls into the category of “with enough creativity anything can be used as a weapon”.
If the attitude determines the weapon, I know that I am much more fearful of the person looking for a fight than of a person looking for a large wedge of cheese.
And *I* personally, prefer not to be near to someone who has chosen to bring with them something that is a *weapon by design*.
It’s just seeking trouble.
On my first camino there was a man for the first few days… he took heaps of sleeping pills at night. He told everyone round him that he had 12 prescription drugs with him to zonk any of us out if desired. We all just kind of stared and then ignored…
BUT — he was looking for conflict.
On night one, he hallucinated that the young couple in the bunks beside him had done something awful and threatened to seriously harm the young man in the couple over the next 3 days. We did not see the young couple again after Puente de la Reina … I think they got “off stage” to get away from him.
His hostilities turned to me.
I had work to do on the night we arrived in Puente de La Reina. I did not join people for supper. He told the large table that he joined that I had stayed behind for a shower rendezvous with a young French man. There was a young French man with whom I would converse. Perfectly nice. For a thousand reasons of my own the story was absurd.
But by the next morning, the drugged up man was telling everyone that I needed a punch in the head.
The French man had come into the dorm somewhat later, and had started to spray something that smelled actually very nice. In French, I asked him what it was and said it smelled very nice. Like lavender I thought… and he said it was bedbug spray. Well, because the nasty many was below me and quite gaseous, I thought that the lovely smelling bedbug spray was *hilarious* and I got the giggles.
And for that I was to be soundly beaten at the first opportunity from the drugged up man — who had also claimed to have all the ‘control weapons that you’d expect a former marine to be carrying’.
Weapons have no place on camino. Taking them with one IHMO breaks the very wise advise, “Do not pack your fears.”
—- We never saw the hostile man again after the approach to Burgos. I don’t think he had found Hemingway by then, and nobody would talk to him after Estrella.