Humbling memories

[domigee]

The post about the German pilgrims brought this back to my memory.
Do you have any similar story?

I was walking the last 100 km to Sarria. Some pilgrims behind me (a Spanish family/in-laws/cousins…) were really, but really loud and I was annoyed. I knew a big hill was coming up so that it was unlikely I could go much faster than them so… I decided to let them go past. So I could lose them.
i stopped before the hill and took out my bottle of water and… they went past me. Yeah! I thought!
Only…. after a few minutes they all walked back to me!
‘You can do this! We’ll all do it together, you’ll see. You aren’t alone, we’ll help each other.You come with us!’

They saw someone (much older than them) who was stopping, gasping for water… and their one thought was for me ‘we must help her’. All I was thinking at the time was ‘please let them get away from me.’
Yes, I was truly humbled.. I will never forget it

 

[Turga]

Yes, I have been in similar situations on the Camino - thinking one thing and experiencing something very different.

Situations to learn from.

 

[Bradypus]

A few years ago I walked from my home in Wales to SJPDP. I chose my route to pass through the small French coastal town of Pornic where the grandfather I am named after is buried in the Commonwealth war cemetery. One of thousands killed during the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force early in WW2. I stopped at a supermarket cafe on the edge of town for breakfast. A local man spotted my rucksack and walked over to ask me about my journey. Despite my minimal French I managed to explain why I was passing through his town. He then walked over to the other occupied tables and said a few words to the people there. Then the other customers all stood, walked over to me and shook my hand. A very powerful emotional moment for me.

 

[Annette london]

Well since yesterday we’ve been humbled a number of times by the kindness of strangers.
Arriving in Ferrol to walk the Camino Ingles and after a long journey from London, we found it a bit confusing finding our way out of the town
We are good at getting lost and have once or twice before on a Camino headed off in the opposite direction.
After about ten minutes, a kindly gentleman enquired as to where we were going…..to Naron we replied, he then pointed us in the right, and opposite direction!
Further along and TWICE in fact we heard “Camino, this way as they shouted and pointed out the correct way…well the marks weren’t great until we got to the outskirts and we must have looked like two gormless pilgrims!
Then, just before Naron we asked a man for some general directions to our”off the Camino pension” and we were on our way weren’t we!
Twenty minutes later, we found him waiting for us at the turn off and he walked with us to the pension
we would definitely have missed that turnoff
so…in just one day, so many kind and helpful people.

 

[Flog]

Yes, I have been in similar situations on the Camino - thinking one thing and experiencing something very different.

Situations to learn from.

Me too, I'm guilty of it in everyday life. It can be all too easy to judge..

 

[Former member 91017]

A few years ago I walked from my home in Wales to SJPDP. I chose my route to pass through the small French coastal town of Pornic where the grandfather I am named after is buried in the Commonwealth war cemetery. One of thousands killed during the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force early in WW2. I stopped at a supermarket cafe on the edge of town for breakfast. A local man spotted my rucksack and walked over to ask me about my journey. Despite my minimal French I managed to explain why I was passing through his town. He then walked over to the other occupied tables and said a few words to the people there. Then the other customers all stood, walked over to me and shook my hand. A very powerful emotional moment for me.

Your story brought me to tears…
My grandfather went twice to WWI; His brother died in France with pneumonia. My R(C)AF uncle (age 18) was killed July 21/22 1942 over Hamburg. My father received the “missing in action” telegram.. age 14. He was never the same.
I think of all of them when I walk. … and I have visited the Runnymede Memorial … walked on foot up from the train station. Broke my heart. 22, 408 airmen who never came home from their last missions.
A woman was driving past while I was waiting for the Runnymede memorial to open. At first she screeched to a halt, backed up and told me rather unkindly to move on. I seemed suspicious somehow? I’ll never know… but I wasn’t going anywhere.
All I could muster through quaking chin and breaking voice was to point into the grounds and say “Uncle”.
She changed demeanour immediately and became gentle. “Oh, well thank you then. Enjoy the quiet.”

 

[domigee]

Your story brought me to tears…
My grandfather went twice to WWI; His brother died in France with pneumonia. My R(C)AF uncle (age 18) was killed July 21/22 1942 over Hamburg. My father received the “missing in action” telegram.. age 14. He was never the same.
I think of all of them when I walk. … and I have visited the Runnymede Memorial … walked on foot up from the train station. Broke my heart. 22, 408 airmen who never came home from their last missions.
A woman was driving past while I was waiting for the Runnymede memorial to open. At first she screeched to a halt, backed up and told me rather unkindly to move on. I seemed suspicious somehow? I’ll never know… but I wasn’t going anywhere.
All I could muster through quaking chin and breaking voice was to point into the grounds and say “Uncle”.
She changed demeanour immediately and became gentle. “Oh, well thank you then. Enjoy the quiet.”

Walking through those war torn towns( albeit a long time ago) and seeing all those cemetaries broke my heart too. I still have a vision of those young men standing up from their graves.. Thousands of them..

 

[lt56ny]

Yes, I have been in similar situations on the Camino - thinking one thing and experiencing something very different.

Situations to learn from.

Hopefully we have all learned from situations on the Camino. It is one of the many gifts the camino gives us.

 

[jsalt]

My Dad was at El Alamein in WWII. Some 30 years later I travelled through El Alamein on the way to South Africa, at much the same age as he was at the time.

Miles and miles of white crosses stretched away in the sand. Very humbling.

When I set off, at the age of 20, with his blessing, he told me I would “enjoy” the vast open deserts more than the shanty towns of Africa.

He was right. And I think it is why I love the meseta more than any other part of the camino.

 

[WalkingJane]

Humbling indeed........ So many stories. "When will they ever learn......?"

 

[Former member 92300]

I too passed a very large group of german pilgrims who were boastfully loud and happy. As I passed, they stopped me and offered me some of their treats. Reminded me of my German grandfather/great-grandfather! I can't think of a specific "humbling" memory - just lots of great memories with lots of great people from all over the world! My favorite memory was my arrival. I had cancelled a 2020 and then a 2021 Camino due to COVID. With no hope of getting to Europe - I planned an alternate trek on the Pacific Crest Trail in California with my 22 and 17 year old kids. 4 days into what should have been a 6 week hike - my kids hated it so much and had made me so miserable that I decided not only to send them home - but I was finally exhausted from their bad attitude that I decided to end my trip too. And as we were heading home, it was announced that Spain was indeed opening to vaccinated tourists from the US. My kids knew how much I wanted to go on my Camino that they encouraged me to go, even though they would be left behind (daughter was supposed to go with me). I went home, unpacked and did laundry and repacked and within 3-4 days I was heading to Spain. But first I had to fly from Arizona, to Utah, to New York, and THEN on to Madrid. With lots of long layovers and no sleep on any flight or in any airport. I got to Madrid, and exhaustedly found the train station to get to Pamplona. When I arrived, I checked into a hotel and slept for 16 hours and only woke up because the front desk wanted to know if I was checking out (OOPS! It was after check out time!). I raced to pack and head over to the bus station. I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find my bus tickets in the billet machine (not there). I kept going to the information desk and no one was there. Tried deciphering as many Spanish signs as I could to find information and had no luck. An employee would appear and disappear faster than I could get to them. I was absolutely frustrated and probably a few minutes away from crying haha. Suddenly, 2 ladies from Barcelona approached me and asked if I was trying to get to SJPDP. YES YES YES!!!! They gave me instructions and told me how to get on the bus. Then they told me that the bus is only going as far as Roncesvalles, and did I want to share a taxi?! YES YES YES! They were lifesavers. Then I started hiking the Pyrenees the next day - but I had ankle injuries from swelling after my previous hike. I hadn't brought my hiking poles and I forgot to buy a pair in SJPDP. People were amazed that I was able to walk at all, much less hike over the Pyrenees. Regardless, I kept going. A few days later, my ankles were still painful and swollen. One of the two ladies then gifted me a pair of hiking poles. She had lost a pair on the bus to Roncesvalles, and bought a pair in SJPDP... then when she got back to Roncesvalles the bus driver had left her poles there - so she ended up with 2 sets of poles. Anyway - just the perfect example of the Camino Spirit!

 

[Chris Taggart]

These stories are so heartwarming, the incredible kindness of strangers.

We were incredibly lost one day, looking for our off Camino accommodation,
walking through a large vineyard area, we went back and forth, until we asked a older man who was pruning the vines.
After limited discussion (spanish / english ) and no comprehension of his instructions and directions, he offered to take us in his farm vehicle to the B+B which was not far (as the crow flies! )
On the way across fields and secondary roads, he pointed out his home, a very large and beautiful home.
He kindly deposited us with our hostess, and they had a laughing conversation.
She later informed us that the gentleman was a wealthy landowner, and that the vineyards, as far as the eye could see, belonged to his family.
His kindness was much appreciated.

 

[mspath]

On the camino one never know where incredible helpfulness may appear.

March 2009 during a rainstorm a Spanish pilgrim and I left Hospital de Orbigo to walk the alternative CF route towards Astorga. Between Santibáñez de Valdeiglesias and San Justo de la Vega we lost our bearings within a dense wood.

Soaked and perplexed we tried to backtrack; suddenly a small dog appeared amidst the vegetation. Sniffing our boots the dog moved "ahead" waiting for us to follow. Trotting by our sides the dog led us several kms through mazelike holm oak towards this wide path which we three followed.



When the towers of Astorga cathedral could be glimpsed, the dog ambled off, his task complete. We two pilgrims continued into the city extremely grateful for the special skills of our persistent four legged guide.

 

[makingtrax]

A few years ago I walked from my home in Wales to SJPDP. I chose my route to pass through the small French coastal town of Pornic where the grandfather I am named after is buried in the Commonwealth war cemetery. One of thousands killed during the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force early in WW2. I stopped at a supermarket cafe on the edge of town for breakfast. A local man spotted my rucksack and walked over to ask me about my journey. Despite my minimal French I managed to explain why I was passing through his town. He then walked over to the other occupied tables and said a few words to the people there. Then the other customers all stood, walked over to me and shook my hand. A very powerful emotional moment for me.

That little story brought tears to my eyes....