Day 10: Nájera to Santo Domingo de la Calzada

May 16: 21,2km

I haven’t slept in such a huge albergue since Roncesvalles on Day 1 of the camino. However, I also had 10 days to get used to the camino way of life and once I hit the pillow the night before, I fell asleep and did not wake up once during the night. At 6 a.m. some people started getting up and packing their bags. I got up as well and went to the kitchen to eat my croissants and my banana, which I had bought the day before in a near-by supermarket. I was done by 6.30 a.m. and actually ready to go, but as I stepped out of the albergue I realized how freezing it was outside. I turned around and went back to bed and slept for another hour.

When my alarm went off shortly before 8 a.m. I still wasn’t the last person in the albergue. Felice, the girl from the Netherlands, who keeps popping up on the camino, was still in bed and Stefano was sitting in the kitchen holding his knee. “What’s wrong my Italian friend?” I asked. He told me that his knee pain bothered him again. He clearly had exaggerated the last few days, walking more than he should have with an injured knee.

The Spanish word for pilgrim is “peregrino”. But that day, Stefano wasn’t one of them. For the very first time on his camino, he turned into a “busogrino” – a made-up word for pilgrims taking the bus. We agreed to meet in Santo Domingo this afternoon, him using the bus and me using my feet.

I started walking and before I realized, I was in Santo Domingo by noon. In my diary that day I wrote: “Thank god it wasn’t raining today! I also didn’t feel much pain today. It got quite cold though. I walked around 21 kilometers and this time I didn’t even feel very tired. I was quite quick too. I feel that I am getting stronger and tougher. However, last day’s rain left some marks, as I have a sore throat today. I hope I won’t get a cold.”

When thinking back to the walk, I actually couldn’t remember much of it at all. Again I wrote in my diary: “So while walking – what did I think about? Either I can’t remember or I just didn’t think much. I just enjoyed the walk and the scenery. I think now is finally the time that the mind quietens down and where I experience silence.” And so it was. It took my 10 days to really calm down and since I started to get used to the physical challenges, I could become quieter and quieter within my mind. I finally had arrived in the here and now.

it got so cold that there was snow on the mountains in the middle of May!

Pilgrims in front of me. Felice is the one in the pink jacket.

Still 580 kilometers to Santiago. A long way to go.

Not only did I arrive in the present moment, but also in the most beautiful albergue. The house was huge and had beds for 200 pilgrims. The rooms were quite similar to the other albergue rooms. I shared the room with 15 other people, among them Stefano and his Italian friends. However, the bathrooms were very big with many and quite big showers and toilets. There was a very big kitchen and living room area and the whole albergue was clean and gave the impression of a hotel. It looked quite expensive, but the fee was on donation basis. So, it was up to you, how much you wanted to pay or if you wanted to pay at all. You didn’t have to – but a lot of people did, just because it was so lovely. I jumped around the house and said so many times: “This is awesome! I want to live here!” A few months ago, I wouldn’t even have dreamt of sharing a room with 15 people and now I wanted to live in a place with dozens of roomies. It is funny how you appreciate the little things (big showers and a shiny staircase, for example) once you change your perception.

There was also a doctor in the house, who offered his services on a donation basis, and many many pilgrims queued up until the late evening to have him have a look at their blisters, feet and knees. Stefano went for an inspection as well and was told not to walk for the next three days. It is a camino rule that you can only stay in an albergue for one night, unless you are ill, in which case you can stay one more night and then find somewhere else to stay. Stefano decided to stay one more night in this dream albergue and then travel with the bus to catch up with his Italian friends. I was very tempted to play sick in order to stay one more day in this magnificient albergue, but the fact that I shouted “I want to live here” and that I jumped around while expressing my joy pretty much gave away that I was feeling absolutely fine and revealed my true reasons for wanting to stay.

After I settled in I went out for lunch, where I met a cyclist doing the camino. Yes, you can do this on a bike. Sascha, somewhere from Germany, I have forgotten where, had started cycling in Pamplona and wanted to cycle to Santiago in his three-week holiday. He said: “I have so much respect for you. It must be so much harder walking the whole thing.” I heard many cyclists say that, but I never really understood. There is no way I can cycle up a mountain. I always thought cycling would be so much harder. His comment made me think about our own perceptions and experiences and how we always admire other people’s achievements, but so often forget to honour ourselves for ours.

After lunch I went into the garden to do my washing and did not fail to notice the chicken in the garden. Later on, I met Felice and she asked: “What’s up with all the chickens here? There are so many in this town.” I invited her to come to the cathedral with me. “No way,” she said. “I won’t pay three euros entrance fee to have a look at the cathedral!” I then explained to her my reasons for wanting to go to the cathedral: “But they have chickens in there!” Felice looked at me like I had clearly been on the camino for too long and was in want of a proper explanation. So I told her the tale of the Santo Domingo miracle, which goes like this:

It must have been sometime in the middle Ages that a German family was on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. They stopped in a hostel in Santo Domingo. The daughter of the hostel owner fell in love with the 18-year old German boy, but he, being a good pilgrim, refused all offers coming from her. She was very insulted by his rejection and hid some silver in the boy’s bag. When the family left the hostel the next morning, he was arrested, hanged and his body was left as a warning for others not to commit similar crimes. His parents, even though heart broken, moved on and walked to Santiago. On their way back, they arrived once again in Santo Domingo and saw their son still hanging. However, they found the boy still alive, as underneath Santiago was standing having supported his weight and kept him alive all this time. The parents ran to the judge and told him that their son was still alive. The judge, eating his lunch, laughed and said: “Your son is as alive as the chicken on my plate.” Once he had said that, the chicken on his plate got up and flew away.

Since then, they keep a chicken and a rooster in the cathedral of Santo Domingo. It is said that when the rooster is crowing while you enter the cathedral, it means that you will have luck during your pilgrimage to Santiago.

So off we went, Felice and I, to check out the chickens in the church. We couldn’t care less about the architecture and ran around like – headless chickens – only to find our prophecy chickens. We couldn’t find them and after half an hour were very close to giving up, when we finally asked someone: “Excuse me, where are the chickens here?” This was the strangest question I have ever asked in a church! He pointed us to a part of the church, where tourists and pilgrims had already gathered and were now staring at a cage. Once we joined and stood in front of the cage, the rooster started crowing like a maniac. Felice and I fell into each other’s arms and congratulated ourselves for that promising prophecy. After all that I have been through in those 10 days on the camino, I doubted that I would ever make it to Santiago. It was great to hear some motivation, even coming from a chicken! The rooster just didn’t stop and was clearly very happy to see us.

A very unfortunate picture of the chickens. It was hard to take a picture, so please don’t look at this as a piece of art as rather a proof of the chickens in the church.

I stayed in the cathedral for another hour to have a lovely meditation. It was just beautiful and the crowing that went on and on and on did not disturb me at all. Everytime it got tough on the camino, I remembered that noise and the prophecy that I would be able to make it happily to Santiago.