I’m out on a dusty trail in Spain where pilgrims have trod for a thousand years.
We’re filming, and we debate words like that. Do pilgrims “trod,” “trek,” or “trudge”? They don’t trudge — that rhymes with “grudge.” Trod sounds a bit dreary; trek sounds a bit light. We end up saying “walk.” The trail — the Camino de Santiago a.k.a. the Way of St. James — is really full because this is a Holy Year, and the feast day of St. James is approaching. Pilgrims are timing their journey to arrive on that day in Santiago, where the remains of the saint are supposedly buried.
Witnessing this timeless quest and its elevated thinking is inspirational…and in striking contrast to where I was just one day earlier — Pamplona — for the crazy running of the bulls. (In Pamplona, a drunk guy in a bar explained to me that each of the six bulls that run in the morning meets its matador that evening in the bullring. Then, as if sharing a priceless tip with me, he said, “But a bull can escape that fate by simply breaking his horn on one of the barriers during the stampede.”)
Meanwhile, on the Camino, pilgrims come in all types. Prepackaged groups, which I think of as “pilgrim teabags,” have clean, matching T-shirts. Each hiker is issued a mass-produced walking stick with a decorative gourd tied to the top; each stick also has a dangling scallop shell with a brightly painted cross of St. James.
Other pilgrims are humble church groups from distant Catholic lands. We encounter an otherworldly group from Lithuania with its raspy, amplified chant-leader shuffling along. The group members are carrying an old boom box, a nearly life-size cross, and various statuettes. Eager to film them, we drive ahead and wait — as if preparing an ambush. Our cameraman scampers to get just the right vantage point while I sit in the car. Then, a few minutes later, with their intentionally monotonous chant, they walk by my open window — just inches from my eyes. I wish my eyes were a camera. While we get a great wide shot, that close-up pilgrim-pass-by is one of the most vivid images we’ve ever missed while shooting.
We stake out a position in a medieval village. This is the standard, ghostly quiet village pilgrims pass all along the route. Its only shop is a vending machine cut into a stone wall. An ancient woman scrubs her laundry at a creek-side place where women have done this for centuries. A shepherd scoots his gangly flock over a tiny bridge.
In this peaceful corner, our mission is to interview pilgrims about their experiences. We meet a New Yorker who has just hiked for days across the vast Spanish plain and learned nothing about life or himself. He is, in his words, “a little pissed off with it all.” And we come upon a bouncy flower child from Berlin — a 20-year-old girl hiking alone, singing to herself, and radiant with the value of this personal journey. She speaks to us as if she were a real saint come to earth. Talking with her, I feel like I have just entered a Botticelli painting.
An Englishman we meet is doing the trail in three successive years because he can’t get enough time away from his 9-to-5 job to do it in one 30-day stretch. While he walks, he has been reflecting on simplicity. Everyone we meet (except for the one pissed-off guy) is having a richly rewarding time. I keep thinking how a standard RV vacation — with its Swiss-Army-knife of comforts — couldn’t be more different than this chance to be away from the modern world with all that it entails.
Of course, I’m in the fast lane of normal, workaday life and just observing. (And my mind is in a completely different space compared to the pilgrims. Last night, as I was crowded by my hotel’s shower curtain, it occurred to me that no hotel in Europe has invested in the wonderful bent curtain rods that arc out — giving big Americans in need of elbow room a more spacious place to shower.) Each time I talk to someone on the Camino de Santiago, I’m inspired to find a way to set aside the month it takes to walk from France to Santiago. Someday I will.
In Santiago, we greet pilgrims as they enter the last stretch. A bagpiper stands tall under an arch, reminding us this is a Celtic corner of Spain. Playing the theme to Star Wars adds an incongruity to the ambience — reminding me of the challenges a pilgrim encounters as he or she struggles, often in vain, to leave the modern mindset.
But then, on the square in front of the cathedral of Santiago, I witness joy and jubilation sweep over those who finish this journey — as I do each time I’m here. Whether religious or personal, the commitment required to do this trip is great…and the rewards are even greater.
Very informative. Thank you.
I am going to be more simple. Sounds easy but it’s not.
Last year I enjoyed ETBD’s week in the Basque country and we walked a short bit of the Camino. You must really respect the fortitude of those who make the complete journey. After the tour, I rented a car and visited Santiago to follow the path marked by the scallop shells. It was heartwarming to observe the pilgrims at the end of their quest with faces that were radiant with the joy of completing their pilgrimage. Many people abbreviate Santiago de Compostela as SdeC. Almost sounds like “ecstasy.” Viewing the faces of the pilgrims, it”s understandable.
Mama Mia (italiano). I like Spain. I like a bit of discomfort (reminds me of the army). But I understand the guy from NY – maybe it was 95 F, and he was carrying a 65 pound backpack, and he was 60 years old, and his 45 year old girl friend just bought a Tiffany diamond -on his credit card!! And a 20 year-old out of a Botticelli, please, all 20 year old’s girls – and a few boys – seem like they are from Botticelli’s paintings. And I will take that arced shower curtain any day of the week. Talk to me in 15 years, Rick. Then “simple” may have a different meaning for you. Just kidding of course.
Reminds me of seeing pilgrims with sticks and backpacks setting off from St. Jean Pied-a-Port, and talking to the ones staying in my hotel in Bayonne. I went by assorted trains to Santiago, but walking the Camino definitely wound up my “things I should do” list. Unfortunately it’s still there! At the other end, on the train to Porto, I met a woman who had started out with a group and finished on her own – she later wrote a book about her experiences: “What the Psychic Told the Pilgrim: A Midlife Misadventure on Spain’s Camino de Santiago” by Jane Christmas.
As I read Rick’s blogs, I am reminded of those serene scenes pictured on his website and in sales literature in which he and his wife are flying to their destination enjoying their wonderful seats, their books,laptops or listening with headphones. The inference is that we too will soon be jetting smoothly off to Shangri La – and maybe we will as RS customers. But my recollections of flights, and maybe yours, have occasionally been different. Check out this very funny but true-to-life back of the napkin depiction of flight at nytimes.com Abstract City Red Eye by Christoph Niemann dated August 3, 2010. It is “a visual diary documenting a flight” to a place in Europe I used to visit frequently on business trips.
11 years ago I had the chance to walk for 7 days along the Camino, the last ending in S de C. It was a great experience. I am not Catholic, and do not consider myself very religious by some standards. But the history, tradition, time to reflect and observe, was so worth it. (I think the guy who was pissed off was not realizing the inspiration and rewards of such a journey are self produced) This year a friend and I had the chance to drive the Camino. We started in Paris. We found evidence of the Camino at the Tour de St Jacques in Paris, then further on in Chartres and St Emiion. We then proceeded along the tradional route in Spain. It was a great trip. But yes, like Rick, our desire was be out walking. Someday I hope to return for such a jouney.
Thanks for sharing these reflections, Rick. I’ll look forward to seeing the episode in which these vignettes appear. I walked the Camino de Santiago de Compostela from Saint Jean Pied-de-Port to Santiago in 2008, and this year I walked the less-familiar Camino Via de la Plata to Santiago, arriving on the Holy Day, July 25. Each Camino has been a thrill. It’s a combination of walking, making new friends, enjoying the beautiful scenery, being surprised by the amazing countryside . . . . truly a rich experience that I’ll once again enjoy next spring, this time with my sister and son. Rick, you need to unplug from your show and do this. The “slow travel” of the Camino may make you rethink how you do Europe. In this case, pilgrims of the last 1000 years got it right — slow down, enjoy.
Rick, I hope you get to experience a camino yourself. I can identify with the angry guy. Out on the camino you experience all kinds of feelings you never knew you even had. Whether pain or joy. From the simple to the profound. I did not experience any grand transformation either. But I learned a lot about myself and others and the world we share, met wonderful people, suffered much physical pain and came home to continue the real camino in life.
A lovely and melodic observation of the experience of the Camino de Santiago. The varied perspectives of the trekkers, trodders, trudgers reminds me of how people approach life-it is what you make of it.
Great blog, Rick! Once again, you paint the picture in prose.
My dad is going on the Camino next month.