Final thoughts....

Some time ago Rob the Canadian asked me why I was doing the Camino. I told him that it was going to be a ‘booster’ to my faith in human nature, explaining that in my experience people put in challenging environments quickly let their barriers down, open up and work with each other in a more constructive and positive manner than strangers tend to normally; they become more engaged and tend to become more social, more focused on the benefits of the group and less locked in their individual worlds. It is uplifting - in a way comforting - something that I believe lies in some deep-rooted evolutionary aspect of man’s social instincts that modern society can often smother.

The question between people now that we have finished - sometimes implicit - is what you have got out of walking the Camino? Are you a changed person? How has it affected you? For me I think the answer is ‘not that much’. Of course any extended period in a different environment with strangers will teach you something about yourself however self-aware you may be. But for me no great spiritual uplifting or ‘road to Damascus’ moment.

There is however something liberating about a long distance walk. Each day on the Camino is a cycle of simple acts: you wake, you walk, you find somewhere to stay and to eat, and then you prepare for that same cycle the following day. Your day is filled with the basic requirements of life and these basic requirements become the focus of each day. It doesn’t matter about the weather, whatever it brings you accept it, as you accept other issues more readily both in what is around you and in the people you meet; you begin to see the good rather than the not so good and in doing so approach each day in a positive frame of mind.

You spend a large part of your day walking. It is hard and it is tiring, sometimes you can’t wait for it to end and other days you want it to go on forever. Walking is your day, your entertainment and your frustration. It places you in, and allows you to think about, your surroundings or to be simply lost in your own thoughts while still giving you purpose. It takes the place that is filled back home by your work, your television, your radio, your newspaper but without all the distractions and intrusions these bring.  For a month I hardly listened to the news. I did not miss it and it wasn’t important. The reality is I missed out only on listening to reports - keeping myself informed as might I see it - on matters that I had no control over and yet which could affect me in some way and at the very least frustrate. Instead I filled my day with simple things that I could influence and that impacted upon me; where I was going that day and with whom; where I stayed; what I ate; who I spoke to – or not. In doing so I guess in some deep corner of my psyche I felt as if I had more control, was released from subconscious feelings of powerlessness and as a result was more content and relaxed.

What makes the Camino different is the length of time and the number of people involved; the experience goes on for longer and becomes an individual’s normality and it is a ‘normality’ that is shared with many others giving it even greater significance. There is a greater sense of breadth and depth to what you experience on the Camino than in other things I have done that have a similar effect. It provides an extended detachment from the world - a detachment that allows you a period in which you can get a different perspective of the world - rather than a fundamentally spiritual experience.

So it is with these thoughts in my head that I finish my Camino. As a result of the last few weeks I have met and got close to some wonderful people. I have made new friends with whom I have shared something different, even special. I have been touched by some of the stories I have heard and I certainly look on my life and upbringing with increased appreciation. Would I do it again? I think I might but not on my own: I would want to look for something different, although I can think of only two or three people with whom I would want to share it.  But I would recommend it to anyone.

The Galician Cross

As I walked the Camino I saw an unusual red cross on many of the scallop shells tied to people's rucksacks. I eventually asked about it in a small religious hostel from a man who had these crosses embroidered on his tunic and was told it was the Galician cross, symbolic of Galicia and of course St James, the saint of that region.

Like many christian crosses it is a red cross on a white background - the blood and purity of Christ - but the cross was developed into a sword: Galcia was the only kingdom of the Iberian peninsula not conquered by the Muslim armies and the Galician kings believed St James was granting them protection and from this belief the Christian red cross evolved into the symbol we see today.

The rise and fall and rise of the Camino

By the 12th Century the Camino was a highly organised and popular route with rich and poor alike travelling the route to visit the tomb of St James. Many pilgrims did not do the journey by their own volition; there are records of people needing to complete the trip in order to earn an inheritance and others who had to complete it as a sentence imposed by a court. (There is apparently still a tradition in Flanders of pardoning and releasing one prisoner every year under the condition that, accompanied by a guard, the prisoner walks to Santiago wearing a heavy backpack). Pilgrims travelled for weeks or months to arrive at Santiago de Compostela and many arrived with very little due to illness or robbery; being attacked on the Camino was one of the great risks of the early travellers. 

It was the ravages of the Black Death in the mid 14th Century that saw the beginning of the decline of the Camino, followed by the impact of the Protestant Reforms of the 16th Century.  The idea of pilgrimage became unpopular and was banned in many countries (Henry VIII banned it in Britain).  In the late 16th century the relics of St James were hidden to prevent possible theft by Sir Frances Drake and were subsequently 'lost'.  With no body to venerate the number of pilgrims fell even further and in the Holy Year of 1867 only 40 pilgrims turned up for the St James' day Mass.  Fewer than twenty years later, after a determined effort, the relics were found and once declared genuine by Rome the numbers of pilgrims once again began to rise. 

Today's popularity is as a result of activity in the 1980s with the formation of Camino interest groups, a priest with a vision of how it could be and a lot of volunteers clearing and marking the routes.  This work has seen the numbers rise from just over 2000 in the mid 1980s to over 270,000 in 2010 making the Camino what it is today.

Day 39 - Santiago de Compostela

My last full day in Santiago: a nice lie in, a late breakfast in a plush cafe (coffee and tortilla as per usual) and a visit to the Museum of Galician Culture made for a relaxed day. And strangely the rain had stopped. The afternoon was rounded off by a beer in a street-side cafe watching the crowds go by.

The museum was interesting, an eclectic collection of tools and equipment associated with Galician industry and life: woodwork and metal work; clothing and instruments; agriculture and fishing. It reminded me of my dad’s garage. The stated aim of the museum was to expose people to Galician culture and to help them understand it; the breadth of exhibits certainly went some way towards this. However, it would have helped significantly if every label for every exhibit were not written in Galician - and only Galician. I can not work out whether this was arrogance or stupidity but as a means of educating non-Galicians on the Galician culture it provided an insurmountable obstacle and was counterproductive. Interestingly though, on exiting there was the usual appeal for funds - ‘we would not survive without the generous donations of our visitors..’ etc etc – written in a range of European languages and certainly on the part of the English translation grammatically perfect.

In the evening we met Rob and Greg for a farewell meal (a kebab!), a final drink with some other friends of theirs in another bar in town and then Gale and I headed off back to our hostel. Tomorrow we both depart Santiago, Gale for Madrid and me for home.

 

Day 38 - Santiago de Compostela

Today is the day the rest of us begin to go our own way. We were up before 7am to say farewell to Myra who left for the airport shortly after. As it was still raining the rest of us were not inclined to rush out so we lounged around the flat before eventually heading into the centre for breakfast. The rest of the day was spent exploring the Pilgrim Museum - covering the history of the pilgrimage and the city and well worth a visit whether you have walked the Camino or not - and then the adjacent cathedral. Apart from the overly gaudy shrine area for the relics of St James the interior of the cathedral appeared tired, very different to the flamboyant exterior, and our general consensus was '500 miles for this...?'

           

It was still raining when we headed for lunch in the old town so afterwards we just chilled in the hostel Gale and I had booked for the next two days. It was then off through the rain to meet Rob and Greg for the evening, a glass of wine in the the very impressive five-star Parador by the cathedral, farewell to Janna, and then us boys headed off for a lads' night out... well sort of. We found a small bar full of locals listening to locals playing Galician music, bagpipes and drums and flutes and very Celtic like Irish and Scottish music. Everybody was singing and clapping along and the atmosphere was great. We headed off after a quick chat with the players late in the evening, grabbed one last drink and then made our way to bed. And it was still raining.


     

Day 37 - Finisterre

Today we aimed to walk out to the lighthouse at Finisterre, a three kilometre walk out of town and along the peninsula, before catching the coach back to Santiago. It was a leisurely walk in the sun along the road, high on the peninsula with views down to rocky shores and across to the mainland. We enjoyed a relaxing time pottering around the souvenir shop and the area around the lighthouse before a celebratory beer and a walk back to town for lunch and a coach to Santiago.

We are now relaxing in an apartment, the rain once again beating down outside. We have collected the bags we deposited three days ago and bought some local wine and cheese, Myra is readying herself for a 7.30am departure tomorrow and none of us are inclined to head out for dinner so we will just relax. Although Janna doesn’t leave until tomorrow evening and Gale and I have a couple of days left to explore Santiago the feeling is that my trip is clearly drawing to a close.

The last marker

Day 36 - Negreira to Finisterre (70km - sort of...)

We enjoyed another good meal last night in the hotel (more octopus for me...). There was a pilgrim's menu but we avoided it. This morning after a relaxed breakfast we checked out the buses to Finisterre and it turns out that despite being on the main route to the 'end of the earth' buses only run to Muxía further up the coast, a place I would like to visit if I had more time but not now. We could get a bus to Finisterre from there although the next bus to Muxía was not until 5pm. The quickest way to Finisterre from Negreira we were told was to catch the next bus back to Santiago and then a bus from Santiago to Finisterre. What a contribution a day's walk has made...

We opted for a taxi; quicker although more expensive but between us still cheaper than a trip to Santiago and back by bus. We had an hour to wait and spent the time relaxing in the hotel. It was probably the first time that I have had nothing to do or think about for a month: no destination I had to get myself to, no accommodation to find or dinner to think about, no washing to do or places to see. I felt strangely privileged and relaxed having nothing particular to concern me. I was keenly aware of the fact I had time to myself and I had a real sense of appreciation for it. I can not recall the last time I felt like that.

We arrived at Finisterre early afternoon although I slept most of the journey in the taxi; I think I am now allowing the last month to catch up with me. Finisterre is like a not too tatty British seaside town; lots of accommodation and a smattering of restaurants of all standards intermingled with souvenir shops. We had lunch in a nearby vegetarian cafe and found a cheap hotel where we sat having a couple of beers with no other plans to speak of. On this occasion though the free time did not feel quite as special, it began to feel as if I simply had time on my hands; I think I am on my transition back to the real world.

I had a siesta while the others headed out to explore and in the evening we enjoyed a superb meal in a seafood restaurant although I felt a little bad when they fished a crab out of the central tank knowing he was going to end up on my plate....  Tomorrow it is back to Santiago.