- Time of past OR future Camino
- .
About two or three times a year I dream about a camino. And last night, Christmas Eve, was a particularly strong version (perhaps a thank-you to Father Christmas for delivering that ). It’s not any route in particular but it has features of those I’ve walked. However these are all secondary to the feelings that I experience by taking the journey.
The repeating features are
- a starting point in a smallish town. There is one main albergue which is always over-booked, so those pilgrims without a bed inside either bivouac or camp on a grass square outside (it has never rained - yet). In the evening I walk around the encampment sharing warmth, anticipation and trepidation with those I meet, drawn here from the four corners of the Earth
- The hospitalera in usually found in the busy kitchen where we have volunteered to prepare the evening meal. I’ve never seen her face, she’s usually involved in some cooking task shouting instructions over her shoulder in a friendly manner
- In the morning I start with everyone else, but have an urge to get ahead and stay ahead of the pack and so walk fast. The terrain is typically akin to the Primitivo and Salvador
- However, whenever I stop for cafe con leche I seem unable to leave promptly, my legs unresponsive to getting up and on. So I stay chatting as more and more pilgrims arrive. I feel a strong emotion of looking for people I have already bonded with to arrive and occasional warmth and happiness as we reunite. This strange pattern goes on through the day
- there is always a town we go through, about the size of Sarria, where the markers have disappeared. I vaguely remember the right route from previous journeys on this camino, and work out the right path and enjoy showing the new pilgrims the right way through
- the destination of this camino isn’t in a city and doesn’t appear to be a cathedral. It is in a small town in a hilly rural hinterland. There may be some signifier, statue or building that marks the endpoint, but it’s never been foregrounded. While many pilgrims stop here, some continue on past, heading up into the remote mountains towards some further goal. I am one of these, but the clarity about the continuing journey soon fades along with the path
- Sometimes I’m in another part of the country and the dream is about reaching the starting point and that first evening. This makes it an almost circular event where the ending in the middle of nowhere becomes the beginning for heading to the starting point.
Anyone else experience anything similar? if so please do tell!
tom
The repeating features are
- a starting point in a smallish town. There is one main albergue which is always over-booked, so those pilgrims without a bed inside either bivouac or camp on a grass square outside (it has never rained - yet). In the evening I walk around the encampment sharing warmth, anticipation and trepidation with those I meet, drawn here from the four corners of the Earth
- The hospitalera in usually found in the busy kitchen where we have volunteered to prepare the evening meal. I’ve never seen her face, she’s usually involved in some cooking task shouting instructions over her shoulder in a friendly manner
- In the morning I start with everyone else, but have an urge to get ahead and stay ahead of the pack and so walk fast. The terrain is typically akin to the Primitivo and Salvador
- However, whenever I stop for cafe con leche I seem unable to leave promptly, my legs unresponsive to getting up and on. So I stay chatting as more and more pilgrims arrive. I feel a strong emotion of looking for people I have already bonded with to arrive and occasional warmth and happiness as we reunite. This strange pattern goes on through the day
- there is always a town we go through, about the size of Sarria, where the markers have disappeared. I vaguely remember the right route from previous journeys on this camino, and work out the right path and enjoy showing the new pilgrims the right way through
- the destination of this camino isn’t in a city and doesn’t appear to be a cathedral. It is in a small town in a hilly rural hinterland. There may be some signifier, statue or building that marks the endpoint, but it’s never been foregrounded. While many pilgrims stop here, some continue on past, heading up into the remote mountains towards some further goal. I am one of these, but the clarity about the continuing journey soon fades along with the path
- Sometimes I’m in another part of the country and the dream is about reaching the starting point and that first evening. This makes it an almost circular event where the ending in the middle of nowhere becomes the beginning for heading to the starting point.
Anyone else experience anything similar? if so please do tell!
tom