I decided to quit during my first Camino in 2019 but something changed my mind.
2017 and 2018 was a very tumultuous time in my life. In 2017 various business plans that I had been focused on for eight years crashed and burnt. In 2018 my closest friend who I had been best friends with for over 50 years died unexpectedly from complications following minor surgery. He died without an opportunity to say goodbye. I became very depressed.
In late 2018 I decided that I needed to sort myself out and looked for things to do that would bring joy back into my life. During my late teenage years and early twenties I had really enjoyed tramping and I love the outdoors and so I joined a local tramping club and started going on group hikes.
On the way to a hike one day, on the club bus, I overheard two sisters talking about their plans to walk something called the Camino. I had no idea what that was at the time but something in their conversation caught my attention and the Camino called me.
From that moment, I knew that I would walk it.
Within a couple of weeks I learned enough to book my tickets. At that time I struggled to find really good information about the Camino, I hadn't found this forum for example, but I had heard that there was a tradition of taken a token and leaving it at Cruz de Fero as a way of letting go of things in your life and this really appealed to me.
I decided that walking the
Camino Frances from SJPdP to Santiago would be a last adventure together with my deceased friend and that I could say goodbye to him at the Cruz and move on.
I asked my friend's wife if I could have a small personal item of his, something of little value but something that he had used regularly so that it was closely associated with him. I told her that I was going to leave the item on the side of the trail at the Cruz as my way of saying goodbye. I had in mind something like a comb.
She agreed and we arranged to meet at the airport prior to me flying out so that she could give it to me.
When we met I was surprised when she handed over a very personal item of some value and so I reminded her that I was going to leave it by the trail and checked that she was okay with this. She was, and she handed over a second item as well, a hat that my friend often wore. I often wear a hat myself and so I was particularly pleased with this as I could wear it as I walked the Camino and in this way bring my friend with me as I walked.
Things went very well for me until a day before Sahagun. Before leaving home I had put some effort into training and choosing appropriate gear and while walking I had been congratulating myself on my preparation and my subsequent lack of blisters.
The day before Sahagun I was walking around town in my jandals (flipflops if you are from the UK) and something (an insect?) bit me on the ankle and the next day I had a blister on my heel where the bite had been.
I really enjoyed staying with the Marist Brothers in Albergue Santa Clara in Sahagun but the day after I arrived was the first anniversary of my friends death and the Brothers encouraged us to talk and so this was a very emotional time for me.
Also, unknown to me at the time but while staying with the Brothers I became infected with Legionella.
This meant that from Sahagun onwards I was in an emotional low state, in pain for the first time as I walked (from the blister) and rapidly loosing lung capacity and the ability to get enough oxygen. The Legionella got worse as I walked and by the time I got to the ascent up to the Cruz, a week later, I was really struggling and still unknowingly I was seriously ill.
I stayed the night in Rabanal del Carmino and I was totally focused on saying goodbye to my friend the next morning and I had an imagined plan in my mind for how things would go the next day.
I had a very restless night with little sleep and woke up late the next morning. I had wanted to get to the Cruz before too many others so that I could have time on my own and so I was really angry with myself for sleeping in and rushed out of the Albergue and forgot to take any water or food.
I tried to push myself up the trail to the Cruz but my inability to breathe properly meant that I really struggled.
I eventually arrived at the Cruz utterly exhausted but was pleased to see that there was only one couple at the Cruz and so I waited respectfully for them to finish before I did my own thing.
As the couple finished and started walking away a full tour bus pulled into the carpark and I knew that I would need to hurry up before I got surrounded by the bus passengers. As I was walking towards the Cruz a guy from the carpark sprinted past me, up the mound and swung on the Cruz while calling loudly in Spanish to a companion in the carpark to take his photo.
I nearly lost my temper at this stage because I had built up in my mind a picture of how this was going to happen and the reality was the exact opposite of what I had envisioned.
I controlled myself and eventually the noisy guy left but I could see the bus passengers disembarking and walking towards me and so I quickly walked up to the Cruz, said goodbye to my friend and threw my token of him over my shoulder as I stormed off.
This was the emotional low point up to this point.
I continued walking up over the summit and down the other side. As I walked the temperature dropped markedly and it started raining. I was almost oblivious to this as I was wound up in my mind, going over and over again the difference between what I had envisioned this day would be and the reality of it.
I was exhausted, hungry and dehydrated and for the first time I struggled with my footing in the loose rocks of the steep descent.
As I walked I noticed some pilgrims ahead leaving the trail and walking on the road to avoid the loose rocks and difficult footing and then rejoining the trail when it was easier. I vowed to myself not to do that. I would keep to the trail. Eventually, however, after almost falling twice I decided to leave the trail myself and follow the road.
I was so wound up in my own mind that I didn't notice the road veering off from the trail until I had completely lost sight of the trail and any other person.
At this point I stopped and thought about walking back up the road to rejoin the trail but I was so exhausted and struggling for oxygen that I excluded this option. I then pulled out my phone to look at Google Maps to see where I might rejoin the trail further down the hill but there was no cell service and I had forgotten to download the maps the night before and so I had no idea what was ahead. Reluctantly I decided that my only option was just to walk on down the road and hope that I would find something or someone.
I walked on and the further I walked the lower I felt emotionally. Eventually, after about another 30 minutes of walking I was so exhausted, cold, hungry and dehydrated that I had to stop to rest. As I took my backpack off and sat down on the ground at the side of the road I gave up.
I decided that I would stay seated there, cold and shivering with no one else for miles, until the next vehicle came along from any direction. I would then flag that vehicle down and ask for a lift to the nearest town that had transport, get from there to Madrid and fly home to Aotearoa New Zealand.
That was it. My Camino was over.
I sat there for well over an hour and eventually closed my eyes, thinking that I would hear any vehicle approaching.
Maybe I snoozed off, I was really tired and exhausted. Maybe I was starting to get hypothermic.
What ever it was, the next thing I felt was something hitting me on my thigh. As I opened my eyes my friend was standing in front of me and kicking me in the a***. He was saying to me in an urgent voice "Get up!", "Get going".
Many years prior as a teenager I had gone tramping with my friend, got hypothermic and wandered off the trail while walking alone. My friend got worried when I didn't turn up, came looking for me, found me and saved my life.
Here he was back again, telling me to get up and going.
I took his advice. I got up despite my exhaustion, put my pack on and continued walking down the road until I got to a point where the Camino trail crossed the road.
At that point I stopped and I knew that I had a choice to make. I could continue on the road and I was reasonably sure that it would lead me to a town of some sort, get transport to Madrid and fly home or I could turn off the road, back onto the Camino trail and continue walking to Santiago.
I stood there for some time, indecisive, and then decided that perhaps my friend wanted me to continue and so I turned back on to the Camino and walked to El Acebo where I stopped for the day, ate, drank, slept and rested.
Prologue:
# As
@VNwalking suggested the last time I told this story on the forum, the mind is a powerful thing that is capable of creating the conditions needed for survival.
# The next day, a couple of hours after leaving El Acebo I realised that I had left my friend's hat in the El Acebo albergue that morning and so I had now finally said goodbye to my friend, in my own way, and left all of his relics behind.
# I struggled on somehow until just past O Cebreiro where I finally collapsed in a bar from the Legionella and went to hospital in Lugo in an ambulance where they patched me up and I finally finished my Camino in late July in Santiago just prior to the Festival of St. James.
# The Albergue Santa Clara in Sahagun has had significant improvements made to their plumbing since June 2019 at considerable cost and I am more than comfortable that it is now safe to stay with them again.