Well-Oiled Camino
Camino. Chapter 17
This is my serialized story of walking the Camino de Santiago across Northern Spain with my sister-in-law. If you’d like to start at the beginning, click here.
A stunning 18-mile day on the Meseta. That’s the thing about the Camino: it gives you incredible vistas, cathedrals, statuary and artwork to love, and, in the same day, it throws you an arduous challenge. This day exemplifies that precisely. The morning walk meanders through a valley we first encountered dipping down into the town of Hontanas, where we spent the night, and showcases over the course of three miles this morning what we can expect on the high plains: open landscapes, tough fields peppered with thousands of rocks, and a cool breeze that will shift by mid-afternoon into a sun-drenched blast of hot air.
More than two miles outside of the small city of Castrojeriz, we come upon our first major edifice of the day as we walk through the ruins of San Anton, a monastery taken over by Muslims centuries earlier. I can’t help but note the lingering Muslim influence on the remaining structure and, so too, study the black Jesus cast in iron still on his cross. I find it hard to move on so quickly, but with so many miles to go today, Marlene presses me to continue our journey.
Castrojeriz, approximately five miles out on our walk, is a perfect spot for breakfast and coffee. The guide book says the city and its castle on the hill were established by the Romans to defend this road through the long valley. The cathedral, we soon discover, is surprisingly impressive with its artwork and artifacts. Indeed, touring the still active sanctuary adds to a most enjoyable start to our day.
Soon, though, we are weaving through Castrojeriz, as the town curves around the fortressed hill. We cross a swamp on a raised Roman road, constructed centuries earlier, then start the arduous part of our late morning. Our dirt road forward curves straight up as far as our eyes can see, leading us out of the valley. With a stiff slope, the rocky road is a formidable feat and pilgrims are strung out all along it as we climb ever upward, turn after turn, for one-and-a-half miles to the ridge at Alto de Mostelares.
As hard as it has been on my thighs to reach the observation point, I can’t help but feel for Marlene, my tough-as-nails sister-in-law, who is climbing the hill behind me without her hiking poles. She lost her poles outside of Burgos and, to further complicate things, forgot her sunglasses at the hostel this morning in Hontanas. Given the clear sky and bright sun, this is not a good day to be without sunglasses!
It’s only stuff, I remind myself. It’s only stuff.
“Boy, I wish I had my sunglasses,” Marlene says upon her arrival at the summit.
I don’t want to say, It’s only stuff, so I smile and say, “I wish you did too!”
We view the valley below us, along with other pilgrims, and take as much time as Marlene needs to rest. A small snack of bananas and a change of socks are a welcome addition for the two of us before we walk down the backside of the ridge and onto, once again, the flat plains of the Meseta.
Our day would be gloriously complete if it ended here, but we still have more than twelve miles to go before our day is done. The great views, cathedrals, and spectacular artwork are now behind us, and so begins the day’s pilgrimage to our destination of Boadilla de Camino, a town strangled by the pervasive flatlands.
Farther along, we cross a canal bringing water into the area and near it are green crops and large fields of drying sunflowers. It’s a welcome sight! Marlene meets up with an Irish hiker named Brian who has walked the Camino previously and together they walk and talk about their lives. I quickly move far enough ahead to avoid listening to their conversation and enjoy the solitude of the landscape. I love being alone here and, at times, forget to look back to keep Marlene in my sight.
Today, I am practicing serenity. I decide to spend my walk living in the moment - not looking ahead or reflecting back, but staying in the time-frame of “now.” Days earlier I created a mantra “one stick, one step, one stone,” and now I use it with my hiking sticks on the rocky surface to get my mind clear. Soon, I am totally at ease with where I am walking and what I am doing. The feeling of peace is amazing.
Boadilla de Camino, we realize when we arrive, is an empty town. Marlene says she read there are two hundred inhabitants here, but I can’t help but think the books are being kind and exaggerating the numbers. More than 90% of the people of Boadilla have long left and the only businesses that remain are the few hostels that fill up with pilgrims each night. In talking with the manager of our hostel, we discover that he too lives elsewhere, but works in the hostel all week for his livelihood.
As Marlene and I walk around the town before dinner, we literally see how closed it is: no pharmacies, grocery stores, and retail shops; no hardware stores nor garages. We can’t help but wonder if the Spanish government, or the autonomous province of Castilla y Leon, or the secular organizations dedicated to the Camino, don’t all come together to help subsidize this location. Clearly, if the Boadilla hostels shut down, the impact would be horrific in crossing the Meseta.
Actually, maintaining the Camino year-in and year-out must take a ton of dedicated people and organizations. In thinking back to how far we have come (and how far we still need to go), it’s incredible to consider all the paved and dirt roads, sidewalks and footpaths we’ve been instructed to walk, or the bridges and tunnels over and under freeways and highways we’ve been directed to - built specifically for the pilgrims. Consider, too, the hundreds of hostels needed as part of the required infrastructure to accommodate everyone as we move across Spain. The whole thing only adds to how awe-inspiring this enterprise is. Even the signage leading us each step along our way for 500 miles, almost without exception, has been thoroughly thought out and strategically placed.
Add in grocery stores, cafes, restaurants, vehicles carrying luggage forward, taxis helping injured hikers, as well as the pharmacies and clinics that benefit in a secondary way, and we can see why it is such a major tourist industry for Spain’s northern provinces - of course, funded and promoted by the country’s Department of Industry, Trade, and Tourism and supported by hundreds of secular organizations, such as the Friends of the Camino organizations located throughout the world. Even the European Union, which supports economically depressed regions, such as can be found in Northern Spain, we’ve seen on various signs, has had a hand in redefining the Camino into what it is today.
In fact, I read somewhere that as the government and secular organizations became more involved, the Catholic Church has had a smaller role on the management of the pilgrimage. While, at the same time, the Church has seen how popular the Camino has become. This, of course, begs the question are Camino participants on a religious pilgrimage, an athletic thru-hike, or a tourism travelogue? This is something each of us must consider and, I suspect, the answer is interchangeable throughout our day.
Still, the Church, today, is essentially regulated to overseeing the passports (Compestellas) we carry (and stamped throughout our walk), the pilgrim mass at churches along the Way, and hostels under the care of its religious orders. That said, both Marlene and I have been struck by the beautiful cathedrals and churches we’ve encountered and the incredible nuns we’ve met. We agree, as we head back to the hostel, the spiritual nature of the walk is the most critical aspect of its popularity.
This year, Marlene says, they are projecting over 400,000 pilgrims. Not everyone will attempt our particular hike, as there are six other Caminos, or do the entire length of this one, as we are doing - one can start almost from anywhere - but still, in the year ahead, especially May through October, a sea of participants will cross Spain.
We are truly engaged in a well-oiled Camino. The construct lies hidden below the surface for the most part, with only a few moments in the course of 500 miles where the nuts and bolts are exposed, as we found out getting through the Oca Mountains and into Burgos, but even those rough edges will soon be smoothed over and simply recognized as part of the historic trail by future participants.
When it is all said and done, we can’t help but be grateful for how organized this pilgrimage has been and, most importantly, how spiritual it allows us to be.
For dinner, we eat at our hostel with fifty other pilgrims. We are seated at three long tables and served large pilgrim meals with options on soup, the main course and dessert. At the table I talk to a young girl from England and the couple across from me from Australia. Marlene is beside me and talking to others beside and across from her.
Everyone is discussing the hike (where we started, when, how long we expect to take to get to Santiago), the state of our shoes, and the best way to heal foot problems and blisters. At this point, we all, it seems, are suffering from some physical ailment and, in Boadilla, as limited as it is, we must put our faith in God to see us through.
Marlene asks everyone around her at the table what their words are for the Camino, and invariably this leads to a series of heartfelt conversations. A reminder to us all that to walk this pilgrimage is more than a physical experience and a photo opportunity.
I swear, I can hear the subtle but smooth hum of the Camino machinery beneath us, and I am happy in the conversations that ensue at the dinner table, serene in the spiritual joy I have been feeling throughout the day, and fully prepared to walk on tomorrow - once more, following the path of hundreds of others along the Way.
Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you discover the road opens your eyes to the unseen.