When it is late at night and I am ready for bed I usually lock the door but I wouldn't go out of my way to block any entrances otherwise. I am always aware that an albergue is a communal space and that there may be others with a key and legitimate reasons for entering the building.I’d be interested in hearing from others — when you are alone, do you take care to block doors or otherwise impede the entrance of a potential intruder?
In Italy, that's just common sense against thieves.I’d be interested in hearing from others — when you are alone, do you take care to block doors or otherwise impede the entrance of a potential intruder?
No, I don’t. The potential intruder is more likely to be an exhausted pilgrim.I’d be interested in hearing from others — when you are alone, do you take care to block doors or otherwise impede the entrance of a potential intruder?
In Linyola on the Camino Catalan I stayed at the agricultural compound that Josep Cabra had on the edge of town. He provided an albergue-like upper floor on one of the buildings surrounding a gated courtyard. The Catalan gets few walkers and so it was just me there. When it was time for me to sleep I debated with myself but then decided to bolt the door at the ground floor to keep the equipment and tools stored there safe. Sometime in the middle of the night I was awakened by someone coming up the stairs and, in a loud voice, I called out "Quien es?" A quite drunk young man started apologizing. He identified himself as my host's grandson and he eventually chose a bed and went to sleep. I have no idea how he managed to unbolt the door from the outside, especially in his condition.I’d be interested in hearing from others — when you are alone, do you take care to block doors or otherwise impede the entrance of a potential intruder?
I suspect then that Alvaro's influence of bolting doors on the Spanish pilgrim in Zegama - because it left me flummoxed at 9pm of what I was going to do after a good 10 minutes of trying to get in to the lovely new albergue including knocking before the pilgrim inside let me in. (I was late enough arrival at 9pm)I’ve often seen on his vlogs that Álvaro Lazaga always bolts the doors of albergues when he is alone. I tried to do that once, in Castromonte, but it was more of a clown show than anything else, and I gave up. I don’t think I’m careless, but it just didn’t seem to me that it was necessary and I haven’t tried since.
I’d be interested in hearing from others — when you are alone, do you take care to block doors or otherwise impede the entrance of a potential intruder?
Ah! A spooky story from the Camino. I have one. About ten years ago when I reached Santiago I decided to walk to Finnestere. It was an impulse. I thought I had enough time on my hands. I felt I had enough energy. Anyway, I miscalculated my time and I walked one of the stages into the late evening. It began to get dark. I was somewhere between Negreira and Olveiroa. I can't recall the name of the village but the refugio was an old school. It looked empty and the door was locked. A local woman called to me and in my poor Spanish I understood that she had the key. So, in I went. It was a large room fairly basic about 15/20 matresses on the floor, toilets and showers. I had snacks and made myself a light supper before turning in. I went for a spot in a corner of the room furthest from the door. I hopped into my sleeping bag and I went out like a light. During the night I woke up suddenly. (Now at this point I want those who can, please recall a ghost story by the English writer, M.R. James entitled "Whistle and I'll Come to You") As my eyes got used to the dark, I saw a figure standing at the end of the room, in the doorway, motionless but just visable in the gloom. I mumbled a feeble "buenos noches" but there was no response. The figure seemed to turn around and disappear. Yes, I felt a bit unsettled but not enough to get out of my warm sleeping bag to investigate. The next morning in brillant Spanish sunshine I notice that a matress near the door had been moved sideways to line up under one of the windows. Clearly, my nighttime visitor was another late arrival...a fellow Perigrino...or was...it..?. The woman with the key was not at home when I called to return it. So, I couldn't check it out in my poor Spanish. Anyway, I popped the key in the letter box and went on my way.Because I had to abandon my first Camino after 22 days because of shin splints, I returned the following year in late March to complete my journey.
Being early in the season, I often found myself as the only occupant of an Albergue. This ranged from feeling like the king of the castle, with the entire building to myself, a fully equipped kitchen, my pick of the beds, and luxurious, unhurried showers, to feeling like a contestant in a reality show set in a haunted building. There were times when I experienced exceptionally cold spots, a spooky sense and the odd very strange noises at one o'clock in the morning.
I’m sure many pilgrims have had similar experiences. It’s not unique. But given the choice of being alone in an Albergue or being the last person to arrive when it’s packed, I’d still choose the solitude.
However, the only thing I found more uncomfortable than being the sole resident was when I expected to be alone, only to have a second pilgrim arrive; if it was a fellow male, it was no problem; however, as a 64-year-old man, if it was a woman. I would worry about her potential natural discomfort at sharing a dormitory with a strange man, even if he was a genuine pilgrim. Having five sisters, I’ve heard countless stories about situations where they felt uneasy around men. I am acutely aware of not wanting to be a source of discomfort or worry for anyone. I would always try to speak in a friendly tone, hoping to reassure them. They chose not to stay on a few occasions, which I completely understood but felt terrible about.
There are countless stories from my Caminos, but one of my most memorable experiences happened in Lugo. I was the only person in the Albergue, a large dormitory with 20 beds. When I returned at 9:15 PM, the staff member had left the building. I read for a while and, around 10 PM, decided to go to bed. I quickly discovered I couldn’t find the light switch. No matter how much I searched, I couldn’t locate it, and the room remained brightly lit. At 10:10 PM, I heard a noise at the door. The staff member who was not staying at the Albergue returned and, fortunately, showed me the switch, hidden in a recessed area outside the room. (Which I would never have found) The room was pitch black once the lights were off, and I struggled to find my way back to bed.
As I lay there, I listened to the sounds of the night. In the morning, I woke up early and made my exit. As my father would say, “It was character-building.”
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