Day 31: Ruitelán – Triacastela

June 6

Walking distance: 12 kilometres

This day might have been the most important day on my pilgrimage.

Since the four of us had a room to ourselves, we had a good night’s sleep and were all rested enough to tackle the difficult climb up to O Cebreiro, a small village on a big mountain. But before we started going up, up, up, Jens and I were in a very good mood and we chatted and laughed the whole morning. Often we were just walking without speaking much, but this morning we shared a lot and acted a bit silly, like little kids.

a little friend we made on our way

Once we started walking up that mountain, however, my mood changed. As the walk got more and more difficult, in my head more and more difficult situations from my past started to appear. I even started to get really angry with some of the people in my life, as I remembered the things they had said to me and how they had treated me. I began to run up that mountain, leaving my three mates behind. I loved Jens for letting me go, not commenting, not questioning, just accepting that being aggressive was what I needed to be right now.

It was like I was on drugs. Everyone around me was struggling so much climbing that mountain, and normally I would have to, but I was filled with so much energy that I got quicker and quicker. I was angry. Angry with everyone who tried to put me down, angry with everyone who told me I was ugly, stupid or weak, angry with those who had not believed I was strong enough to do this walk – and there had been so many of those.

I passed the stone announcing that I just entered Galicia, a province of Spain that is often cited as a bit mystical. The climate here is very “un-Spanish”, as it is very mild and rainy. In fact, Galicia is the rainiest region in Spain and due to the wind and fog, it is often compared to Ireland as well. Like Ireland, Galicia is very green and I was very much looking forward to the beautiful forests that I would enter in the next couple of days, as forests are my favourite places.

very typical Galician houses

When I got to O Cebreiro, I knew that Jens, Harald and Andy would need ages to catch up with me so I sat down in the chapel Santa María la Real. Wow, what an energy. Once I entered, I was filled with so much love and love was all around me. Churches are magical places, but this one had the most magical energy I have ever encountered in a church. As I sat down to meditate, I immediately started crying.

While I was full of anger coming here, now I was filled with gratitude for myself, my body and my spirit. The cathedral of Santiago de Compostela was still 150 kilometres away, but at this moment I had arrived. I realized how far I have come and for the first time was proud of my achievement on this pilgrimage. So many people had told me to stay home, told me that I was too thin and too weak to manage such a big walk, told me that I was not strong enough. At this moment, I forgave them. I forgave them, because I realized that all they were expressing were their own insecurities, their own doubts and fears. Now I have not only proved them but also myself that I am strong enough to do anything, if I only want it, if I only believe in it. No limitations.

The chapel Santa María la Real.

I said thanks to my body for carrying me all these miles here. I felt comfortable in my body, saw my body as a buddy, and realized that my body and my spirit are both a team.

If I didn’t make it to Santiago, it would not matter now, because I had just arrived. This moment in the little chapel of O Cebreiro gave me so much that I will remember it on bad days for the rest of my life. This is how strong I am, this is what I can achieve. Walking through Spain with a huge backpack, day after day, through wind, sun, mud and rain, overcoming all obstacles….that’s quite something….I finally realized.

camino sign on the gate to the chapel

Day 30: Villafranca del Bierzo – Ruitelán

June 5

Walking distance: 19 kilometres

Not much tell. We walked. And talked.

Now that I was fully integrated in a group, I wasn’t able to analyze my thoughts. I also did not observe people or the surrounding that much, because my focus was on the three people around me, my friends. I didn’t mind. I had walked for so long on my own and now it felt good to share a part of this camino with people.

When I needed a break, I just walked a bit faster and then the guys caught up with me during a break.

The albergue was amazing. We decided to stay in a little village, a decision not many pilgrims made. There were only 10 of us in the albergue – and Jens, Harald, Andy and I got a room to ourselves. All pilgrims fitted around a table and since there was no restaurant or bar, the hospitalero cooked for us and we all had a meal together. Very social.

At the beginning of the camino someone told me: “The camino consists of three parts. From St. Jean to Burgos it is a physical walk, from Burgos to Leon it is a mental walk and from Leon to Santiago it is a social walk.” I wanted to believe that there was a physical and a mental walk, but I never imaged me wanting to be social on this very personal walk – where I intended to find some peace and me-time. Once I realized that the prediction was true, I chuckled. I liked this. Very much.

Day 29: Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo

June 4

Walking distance: 22 kilometres

Jens’ father Harald did not feel very well and taken that he was 74 years old doing the camino, we decided to do a little detour to the hospital to let a doctor have a look at him. When the four of us entered the waiting room, clumsy Jens knocked posters down the wall with his backpack. It was hilarious! While Harald was seeing the doctor, Jens and I watched the camino film “The Way” on his phone. Time went by, and by 11 a.m. Harald still wasn’t out of the doctor’s surgery. Normally, I would have nearly arrived at the next albergue, but I felt so connected to these people. We were one family now. We were one. So I waited patiently in a hospital, chilling out on very uncomfortable seats with my camino gang. Suddenly, making compromises did not seem so hard.

When Harald finally got out, he bought the prescribed pills and took a bus to Villafranca del Bierzo. Andy, Jens and I started walking there. It was a very tiring walk. Andy was still struggling with his knee and I was struggling because of the heat. It was the first very hot day on the camino – 34 degrees and of all days we had to pick this one to have a late start and walk in the hot afternoon.

We arrived in Villafranca del Bierzo by 6pm. Jens and Andy walked on to the hotel, where Harald had checked in, while I decided that I had already cheated enough and went to the nearest albergue. I have been sleeping in hotels a lot lately and started to miss the albergue feeling – the simplicity, the familiarity, being connected to the people you share a room with. Plus, I had to start thinking of my expenses.

After a shower I went to the town centre to meet my gang. Before I returned to my albergue, I had another meditation together with Jens in a park. It was a great feeling sharing these special moments with someone so alike.

Day 28: Foncebadon to Ponferrada

June 3

Walking distance: 7 kilometres

The night before I got a call from Jens again. This time he and the other two were only 10 kilometres away. I had a look in my guidebook, which stated that this day’s route would go steep steep down and even gave a warning that it would be difficult and painful. Jens also mentioned on the phone that it was a very challenging route. I thought of my first day on the camino and how I destroyed my knees going down that mountain for hours. This time I decided to finally grab a cab. For health reasons, of course! I asked in an albergue if there would be a bus or a taxi that could bring me down the mountain. There wasn’t. Of course there wasn’t. You don’t even have a mobile phone reception on this mountain. The whole village consisted of cows and pilgrims. There wasn’t even a proper road. However, the hospitalero (name of person, who works in an albergue) offered to give me a ride, as he needed to go grocery shopping anyway. So this is how I skipped about 20 kilometres to Molinaseca.

sign in the albergue in Foncebadon

The car ride was long and a challenge for my tummy. The hospitalero drove down that mountain like a madman, I think he actually was, and I thought either we or some pilgrims on bikes would get killed any minute. The hospitalera dropped me off at the first bar in Molinaseca and guess who was sitting there, chilling out in the sun? My three men! I had them back – with a bit of cheating…of course only because of health reasons! This time I did not feel that guilty for having cheated a bit.

Andy was limping now. He said he had damaged his knee going down that mountain. I was glad I hadn’t. We walked together for seven kilometres and decided we should celebrate the camino reunion by checking into a hotel.

We each got a room and it all reminded me of that movie “The Way”, where a woman walks the camino with three men, who have all met during the walk.

After a rest and a luxurious shower (for camino standards), we all met up for dinner. I was the first to be downstairs and when Jens came down, he nearly walked by. “Oh, you look very different today,” he said. “Yep. Drying my hair with a hair dryer makes all the difference.” I tell you, the one thing I really missed on the camino was a hair dryer. Not only was it impossible to wash my long hair on a cold, rainy day without catching a cold, but my hair just didn’t look the same drying it “naturally” in the sun. Don’t know why, really. It’s just air – cold air, or hot air, quick drying, slow drying… Next time I walk the camino, I will leave my camera home and take a hair dryer instead. Not kidding!

After dinner I announced that I would want to find a nice place to have a meditation. All of a sudden, Jens got really interested and I ended up leading him through a meditation during sunset. After that, we made ourselves comfortable in a bar and sat until 1 a.m. and talked about religions and belief systems.

The camino originally is a Catholic pilgrimage, so you would expect some late night religious talks. However, only on day 28 did I first speak up about my belief and me being a spiritualist. Maybe that is because I did not want to discuss my belief with catholics, but I feel the main reason for not having shared my belief with other pilgrims was that the camino did not seem very religious to me after all. Most of the pilgrims seemed to be doing it for sportive reasons. I only met two pilgrims, who said they wanted to get closer to their catholic belief, which they haven’t practiced for many years. I wasn’t up for discussing my belief – what’s the point. Belief systems and one’s  own religion to me is something so subjective and personal.

But this night with Jens I talked for hours about how I found my very own belief, about Spiritualism and the Seven Principles and how meditation had made me a happier person. And how grateful was I to be in the company of someone, who listened and tried to understand, who maybe even got a bit inspired. I was so glad I caught up with them. I felt a special friendship developing.

Day 27: Astorga to Foncebadon

June 2

Walking distance: 29 kilometres (4km without backpack)

The next morning I got up and walked. No bus today. I wanted to stay true to myself. Plus, I really did not want to skip the Cruz de Ferro in 26 kilometres. After the cathedral in Santiago, the Cruz de Ferro is seen as the most important spot on the camino. It is a big iron cross and a place of a lot of emotions. It is a tradition that every pilgrim carries a stone or another object with him or her the whole way to the Cruz de Ferro to leave it next to the cross. I also carried a stone from home…or better one from the beach in Folkestone, UK. I picked up the stone a month before I was off for the camino, when I was visiting Folkestone and had an emotional moment at the beach. Energetically I put all my emotional pain into this stone and carried it with me on my camino, symbolizing the pain I was carrying with me (unnecessarily!) all my life. So this place really is a must. Hence, no bus that day (which would have not gone to this place.)

So off I went, limping away with my terrible blister. I had no idea that a blister can hurt so much! But a few kilometres away from Astorga, I started saying this mantra to myself: “Embrace the pain, embrace the pain, embrace the pain.” Instead of fighting the pain, moaning about it, feeling sorry for myself, I tried acceptance for a change. I talked to my pain and said: “Hi pain, you are a part of me right now, so I welcome and accept you.” It worked. I was still in pain, but my energy and perspective totally shifted. During the whole camino experience I noticed how difficult it is to stay positive when you are dealing with physical pain. Since I found my own belief system and started meditating regularly, I (and the rest of the world) consider myself as a very positive person. I am an optimist. But oh boy, did I struggle to keep that up on the camino.

I arrived in Foncebadon, the village before the Cruz de Ferro, at 4 p.m. It’s situated on a mountain top and the last bit of it was a pure fight with my own body. Wow, that was difficult. But I managed. I left my backpack in the albergue, only took my stone, a water bottle and my camera and started my way to the Cruz de Ferro – which meant another two kilometres of walking. My plan was to get there in the evening and I had assumed to be the last and only person there. Unfortunately, this was not the case. There were quite a few cyclists and a lot of tourists around. I waited an hour close by until everyone had left, because I wanted to be alone while leaving my stone at the Cruz. It was a big step for me, letting go of my past. I climbed up the mountain of stones (and it really is a mountain of stones, as people have left their stones and other items there for many many many years) and got very emotional when I saw what people had left there – pictures of passed loved ones, books, toys, letters. A cemetery of memories. Finally I put my stone, which had travelled with me all this way, next to all these other emotional memories of pilgrims and left, going back to the albergue, continuing my journey on the camino and with my life. No looking back.

Day 26: Hospital de Orbigo to Astorga

June 1

Walking distance: 18 kilometres

The day before I reached my limits, having walked 36 kilometres. This day I got the punishment for it. I struggled. Not only because my feet hurt. They hurt like hell. Believe me. But there are so many other challenges on the camino than just the walking. There is the weather, the food, the crowds of people, the albergues….this time it was a man. A bloody snoring man!

I thought after nearly four weeks on the camino I would have gotten used to it, but apparently I didn’t. Not when it’s THAT loud. I even got a bit concerned, because sometimes this snoring guy sounded like he had stopped breathing. Was he gonna die? However, after many hours of unsuccessful attempts of falling asleep, I was running out of compassion and in the morning I was just pissed off.

With a lack of sleep and blisters as big as footballs, I crawled to Astorga. With these 18 kilometres of walking distance I surely did not break any records this time. I was as slow as a turtle, since every step was painful. I had also chosen the alternative route again, avoiding a busy street, which led me to Astorga on a path that was full of big rocks. That didn’t help my blisters at all.

Once in Astorga, I was only interested in a bed. I passed the Gaudi palace, which looked very beautiful, I am sure. At that moment, I couldn’t care less. I needed to lie down. And that quick. In the albergue in Astorga, I experienced for the first time that they separated men and women. Wooohoooo! That meant a lower risk of sharing a room with a potential snorer. I know, women can snore too, but having shared rooms with thousands of people along the way, I can tell you: Men are the worst when it comes to snoring.

After a nice nap, I only managed to limp as far as to the next bar. I got bored, because I could not walk anymore and I did not know anyone in this place. I have never seen all those pilgrims. That’s the price you pay for doing 36 kilometres in one day. You end up leaving people behind. Ironically I was actually trying to catch up.

While I was noting down the biggest rant ever in my diary, the phone rang. That thing had stayed silent for the whole camino, with the exception of my birthday. It was Jens. He had tried to send me text messages, which apparently did not come through. He told me that he, Andy and Harald were missing me. He also told me that they had taken a bus out of León and were therefore further away than I had expected. In fact, while I had planned to walk every day a little bit more to catch up with them, they were still 20 kilometres ahead of me, a whole walking day away. I would never be able to catch up with them, not with those damaged feet anyway.

Should I take a bus too? I would have my camino friends again and not feel so lonely and bored. But I had taken a bus before and felt horribly guilty about it. Did I really want to break my camino principles, just to meet up with my friends again? Why just? How important are relationships for one’s soul? This is my camino, I do it for myself – but how many compromises am I willing to make? Do I need friends on the camino? Is it better to stay stubborn and walk like a true pilgrim, even though that meant being separated from friends? Should I finally let go of them?

While I was thinking about all those heavy questions, I caught eyes with a woman, who was reflecting on her pilgrimage as well. We shared our thoughts and she said to me: “You know, it also works the other way round. Why do you have to make all the effort to be reunited with your friends? They could wait for you too!” True. This all gave me a headache. I went to bed, but before falling asleep I asked for some guidance and inspiration during my sleep. Bus or no bus: that is the question.

Day 25: León to Hospital de Órbigo

May 31

Walking distance: 36km!!!!!

The next morning I woke up completely energized. I was buzzing. And I had a crazy idea. I wanted my camino family back. How about walking every day a bit more than usual and eventually catching up with them, Jens, Harald and Andy.

I was a pilgrim on the run, full of energy and determined to meet my camino friends again. I was walking fast, and since I had a goal again, I was happy too. So I sang my way through the suburbs of Leon. This day’s route would lead along a busy street and I was really not up for that, having had a bit of a depressing time the day before, all alone in my hotel room. So I picked the alternative route that was suggested by my guide book, which led through desertlike countryside. There I was, running through the nothingness, with my heavy backpack, the boiling sun and a heart that was pulled towards my friends, who were a day’s walk away.

It was lunch time when I arrived at the suggested albergue for the day (according to my guidebook). Having walked 22 kilometres that would have been a sufficient walking distance – normally. But I was still buzzing and not ready to call it a day. The only problem: The next albergue was 14 kilometres away. Tough decision. In this heat, this would take me another 3 hours of walking. I sat down to think. My book said that there would be no village on the way, where I could stop and call a cab, if I ran out of energy. But I also really did not want to stop this early. And I also wanted to catch up with Jens, Harald and Andy. I missed them. My heart said “go”, while my brain said “better stay here. That’s the safer choice.” Suddenly I got up, said: “Fuck it!”, grabbed my backpack and off I went – to walk my longest distance ever: 36 kilometres.

All other pilgrims had stopped in the last village. I was all by myself. I could see for kilometres. There was nothing other than dry land. After an hour, my feet hurt very badly and after two hours I could feel my blister that I had since Burgos, swell up. I struggled walking. I sat down and took off my shoes. My feet had swollen up, the blister was enormous. I struggled to get into my shoes again, since my feet had become too big for them … I had bought them in a size bigger than normal, now I knew why. Was it the right decision to continue and do this long walk? It was stupid to go over my limits. I should have considered that I am not that strong, that I have this heavy backpack and a way too slim body to carry all this weight. If other people can walk 40 kilometres a day, it doesn’t mean I can. I felt sorry for and angry with myself.

But now there was no turning back. I had to walk the last bit or I would have to sleep outside. Limping, I continued. I realized very quickly that I would not make the 14 kilometres in three hours. Slowly, it became colder and I saw the sun slowly packing up to go home after a day of work. Crap. I was in pain and could walk only very slowly. I am glad that no other pilgrim was there to see me. I looked ridiculous.

Then finally I saw the sign: “Hospital de Orbigo”. I shouted, I screamed, I sang and I even tried to dance a little with my swollen feet. I am glad no one saw that too. I had finally arrived. By then it was 6pm and I was really hoping I would find a place to sleep. It turned out I was the last to show up in the albergue. All other pilgrims, of which I knew none, gave me a funny look, because they could see my pain from the way I walked.

I laid down for an hour, had a cold shower, rather to cool down my poor swollen feet than the rest of my body and then I limped through the village. I checked all the bars and restaurants – not for the food, but to see if Jens, Harald or Andy might sit in one of them. They did not and I decided to buy some pasta in the supermarket and cook my own dinner. I was not in the mood to meet new people, I wanted to be around people I already knew. Was I proud to have walked 36 kilometres? No. I felt stupid. Stupid for having been so irrational, for having to prove something to myself, for hunting for people I could not let go of. I had been acting like a little child, not like a 26-year old woman. And as I got up and limped towards the sleeping area, I knew my body had already punished me for that.

Day 23-24: Leon

May 30

I arrived in Leon, another big city on the camino. Like in Burgos I decided to have a day of rest to do some sightseeing. Instead I stayed in bed all day and cried. What happened?

I had checked myself into a hotel for two nights. My body told me to rest. I still had some 300 kilometres to go and better to do a day of rest in a big city with things to do, than in a boring little village. I also felt the need of being alone for a while. In the last couple of days I was quite moody and got annoyed with the other pilgrims very easily. It’s more than three weeks ago since I started my camino and slowly but surely I was beginning to need my personal space.

Part of my diary entry that day reads like this: “I was wondering why I was getting so angry. Then I got angry with myself for getting angry. I’m on the camino for Christ’s sake. I should be totally balanced and at peace with myself and the people around me. I’m meditating everyday, I’m a trained life coach and a spiritualist – I should not get angry. I should know better! – I thought. Then I realized how much I was judging myself, again. Would I say things like these to my best friend? Or to a little girl? No! Of course I’m allowed to be angry. I’m a human being, I’m allowed to have emotions. Once I accepted the anger I felt much better. Don’t get me wrong: I was still angry. But I felt much better about myself. I decided it’s time for some privacy, hence the hotel and a day off in Leon. When I got to the hotel, I passed out on the bed for two hours and even skipped lunch. I clearly needed some me-time.”

the cathedral

The arrival in Leon also meant the last day on the camino for Julia, my new German friend, the teacher from the Black Forest. I had only met her very recently, at my birthday, yet I got so fond of her that I had problems letting go. On her last night she suggested to all her camino friends to go out for a meal. So we did – Julia, Harald, Andy, Jens and a few others. We did have so much fun. A bit too much fun, because half through the evening I realized that I did not only have to say goodbye to Julia, but also to Jens, Harald and Andy, who were determined to keep on walking the next day. Andy had a plane to America to catch and he really wanted to arrive in Santiago, so was a bit in a hurry. A prilgrim on the run, so to say.

When I said goodbye to Julia, who was leaving for Germany the next day, I was close to tears. Luckily I had a few hours left with the others, as we had found out that we checked into the same hotel in Leon for the night. Leon has a population of about half a million – so it’s huge! And I ended up in the same hotel like my friends. I also have to mention that I lost my way searching for a different hotel and was fed up looking around, when I spotted this one hotel and checked in that one instead. That must have happened to Jens and Co. as well.

So, when the Oldies went to bed, Jens and I decided that it was too early to finish a last night. We knew that tomorrow we had to say goodbye. With a day of rest, I would never catch up with them again. So we made ourselves comfortable in the hotel bar and being the only guests, we annoyed the barkeeper as we stayed for many many hours, sharing our innermost secrets, pouring our hearts out to each other and becoming very close friends. I guess camino friendships develop so quickly, because you know you might not see your new friend ever again. It is fascinating, isn’t it, that people choose to make friendship, even though they know that it will last only for a short while, knowing that they will hurt and cry saying goodbye. But they never stop making friends, like in real life – even though in real life, we just assume that life and relationships of any sorts are endless.

My mum refuses to have a pet, even though she loves animals so much. She says she loves them too much, so won’t handle saying goodbye to a dying pet. I have heard many people stating the same thing. But what’s the point of having any kind of relationship with an animal or a person then – we all have to say goodbye at some point, but we just don’t want to think about the fact that we might have to say goodbye to our friend, father, brother, aunt, daughter, dog or cat tomorrow – you never know. Instead people assume that life is endless and where it is apparent that life isn’t endless, they refuse to have a close relationship. But not on the camino. How would life look like if we would remind ourselves every day that we needed to part from our loved ones tomorrow? How would we treat each other?

The last few nights have been full of nightmares of death – my death, someone else’s death, so I was really hung up on the subject of saying goodbye.

And when I finally did say goodbye to Jens the next morning, I was hurting so much. After breakfast I went back to bed and stayed there most of the day, sleeping, relaxing, writing post cards and crying. I wanted to be alone, yet felt so lonely on this day off. I only went out to have some food at a close-by restaurant and there they played Passenger “let her go”: You only know you love her when you let her go. How fitting. Now that I was all alone, I realized how much I missed my camino friends. All of them.

 

Day 22: El Burgo – Mansilla de las Mulas – The birth of The Monkey Song

May 28, walking distance: 19 kilometres

Diary entry: “Another day without pain, another day where I was flying on the camino. Yesterday was Day 21 on the camino and this Italian girl Manuela said that it’s special, because after 21 days you change your thinking patters. Today, I could really feel that.”

My thoughts had shifted from being occupied by physical pain to my inner self. From the outside to the inside. People also say that the first two weeks on the camino are very physical, as one has to cross the Pyrenees, and that everything after Burgos becomes more mental. I have been walking straight for over a week now. A lot of people skip this part, saying the Meseta is boring, because you just walk straight, without any hills. But I think that is exciting. Your body is allowed to rest and your mind can deal with stuff that is usually suppressed in one’s day to day life.

Today I felt so connected, not only to the people here on the camino, but also to nature. This walk was really quite spiritual. After a few hours of walking I sat down to have a break and because the sun was shining so beautifully and I was nearly alone on the resting spot, I closed my eyes and tried to meditate for a while, to become even more connected to my surrounding.

It did not even take a minute, when I heard someone shout: “Are you okay? Do you need help?” I opened my eyes again and told them that there is no problem at all, except being disturbed in my meditation (thought I didn’t say the last part out loud). I sighed, closed my eyes again and focused on my breathing, bringing me gently into a meditative state. A few minutes later, a man approached me and asked: “Is everything all right?”

What’s wrong with these people? Sure, they just want to help. On the camino everyone looks out for everyone. But this is really a bit over the top. Imagine you are in a park. Would you go to a person, who is sitting on a bench with eyes closed and ask if everything is all right?

I had thought the camino would be a spiritual path. I expected much more spiritual people here and thought they would spend half the day sitting cross-legged on the camino meditating. Instead you just get disturbed. It seems to be impossible to meditate on the camino! When the third person asked me if I needed any help, I got so pissed off, I nearly wanted to shout back: “No, but you soon might need some help!” I got up and walked, or better ran, because I was angry. So angry!

Once the anger was gone, I got inspired. I was reminded of Alberto, who I met yesterday. I named him “Monkey Man” because he carried a stuffed monkey on his bag that was a present from his now-ex-girlfriend. He wanted to burn it in Finisterre, at the West coast of Spain, 90 kilometres off Santiago. I still thought this was a heart-breaking but yet hilarious story and I couldn’t get over the fact that he was carrying a stuffed monkey all this way just to burn it at the end. Imagine this cute monkey seeing all this beautiful Spanish scenery only to be killed at the end of it. Very tragic!

I immediately had an idea for a new song. I couldn’t wait to come to the next bar to sit and write my ideas down. I practically ran. Once I found the bar, I sat down with a tea and a croissant and wrote a song about Babu the monkey. Guess who sat down next to me after a while? Alberto, the monkey man! I finished scribbling my ideas down and then we walked together the last 6 kilometres to Mansilla de las Mulas. Normally, a pilgrim walks 3-5 kilometres in an hour – it is hard to walk fast with a heavy backpack. Somehow, Alberto and I walked those last six kilometres in less than an hour. I really was flying.

We hung out together for the rest of the day and I couldn’t help noticing how attractive this young man is. We cooked lunch together, picked beds next to each other in the albergue, where we had a siesta nap and had dinner together with Stefano and Manuela. In the albergue I also met Julia again. Jens, Harald and Andy had taken hotel rooms for this day. In the night, I sneaked out of the sleeping room and finished writing the lyrics of “The Monkey Song”.

Here is a video of this song, with English and Italian subtitles:

 

Day 21: My birthday on the way to and in El Burgo Ranero

May 27: walking distance: 17 kilometres

May, 27, it’s my birthday. I had decided to start walking the camino at the beginning of May a year before starting the camino. That decision was dictated to me by work and season. I realized that I would spend my birthday on the camino, if I came that far. I didn’t mind at all, since I was never a big fan of birthday parties. And here I was – still on the camino, after exactly three weeks of walking. I had thought about taking a resting day and enjoying a nice hotel room and spending my birthday in the bathtub. But now I have found friends again on the camino – why would I spend my birthday all alone in a hotel room and lose all my friends, while they carried on. So, I decided to walk like every other pilgrim.

My birthday started exactly the same way all camino days started. Someone had switched on the light, it got noisy, because people were packing their sleeping bags and everyone made their way to the bathroom. So did I. I was brushing my teeth together with ten other pilgrims, when Stefano entered and shouted: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANIKA!” and hugged me while I was having tooth paste bubbles all around my mouth. Suddenly, all tooth paste bubble-mouthed pilgrims, most of them strangers, surrounded me and wished me a happy birthday, all with a tooth brush in their mouths still. It sounded more like “habby bisdaaa” but that didn’t matter. I was congratulated by my camino family and by now I considered every pilgrim part of my camino family.

After a while, it was a bit too much attention for me, so I grabbed my stuff and started walking. I only made it to the café that sells soap tasting pastry, where Andy, Harald and Jens were already sitting and enjoying breakfast. I stopped for some small talk and then walked on, with a “See you in El Burgo” on my lips.

I walked and walked and walked, thinking about how I had previously celebrated my birthdays. As a child, I haven’t really had children’s birthday parties. My parents owned a well-working business and didn’t have time to organize a kids’ party, let alone clean up afterwards. I didn’t mind. I didn’t have many friends anyway. Have always been a bit of a loner. As a teenager I spent all my birthdays in cafés with my best – and at times only – friend, Martin. When I was old enough to drink we changed the location of my birthdays to Irish Pubs. My first real birthday party I had at the age of 25 with a barbeque and a bonfire at the lake with my friends that I had found after college. It was then that I realized how much I had missed out. Birthdays can be so much fun. Now, I was many many miles away from my friends, but I didn’t really mind. I was looking forward to some camino surprises, because that’s what the camino does. It’s always up for surprises. Little did I know…

on the way

After two hours of walking I decided it is time for a break, so I headed for the nearest resting place. From afar I could see that some pilgrims had the same idea and were resting on the benches. As I stepped off the camino to take a seat, I passed by a man, who just stood there on the grass. He suddenly made a step towards me and said: “Para tí” – for you….holding a four-leaved clover. “Para tí, para tí” he continued saying, insisting me taking it. I was moved to tears. “For me?” I said because my Spanish still sucked. “Thank you so much, where have you found it? How do you know that…”. He shook his head, signaling that he has no clue what I am saying. “Gracias” I said and took a seat, staring at the four-leaved clover. I have never seen this man before. He doesn’t even look like a pilgrim. Had he been in the bathroom where everyone congratulated me? How else could he know that it was my birthday? Maybe he had no idea it was my birthday. I watched him. He continued looking for more clover. He had collected quite a lot. I was wondering if he might be giving them to every pilgrim passing by. There were a lot of pilgrims, but he didn’t even look at them. Instead, he came to me again and gave me another four-leaved clover. I then looked up what four-leaved clover means and said: “Muchas gracias por el trébol de cuatro hojas.” – “De nada, de nada”, he said. – You’re welcome.

I continued walking. After about ten minutes, a young man passed by with quite some speed and gave me a red poppy, saying: “Happy birthday.” What’s going on? This guy I recognized from the albergue. He was one of Stefano’s friends and had probably seen my bright orange bag from a far and picked up a flower. How cute. I thanked him and he walked on.

birthday presents

When I saw his bag, I had to laugh. He had a stuffed monkey on his bag. I ran up to him and asked him why he is carrying a monkey. After all, every gramme on the camino counts. It sounds like nothing, but if you are carrying a bag for 20 kilometres a day and that every day for weeks, you think twice what you carry with you. So why walking around with a stuffed monkey? You don’t need a monkey to survive on the camino.

He told me that he was given this monkey called Babu by his ex-girlfriend when they were still together. The love didn’t last, but the monkey stayed. He told me that with a big smile on his face, but he seemed heart-broken nonetheless. His plan was to walk to Santiago and then head to Finisterre, what is also known as the “end of the world” – at least that’s what people thought during the Middle Ages. Some pilgrims decide to walk another 90 kilometres from Santiago to the ocean, until you can’t go further. It is a custom to burn an item that you have carried the whole walk at the cliff. Most people burn their socks or a T-shirt. This guy – who introduced himself as Alberto – wanted to burn Babu the monkey.

With that said, he said “goodbye” and walked on. As he turned around, the poor monkey was smiling at me from Alberto’s backpack. Babu the monkey seemed to have no idea that he is going to die soon. He was grinning at me and I…. I started to laugh hysterically. I know, I know, I know, it’s a heartbreaking story, but I just couldn’t help it. I laughed so much that I nearly peed in my pants. I stopped walking and laughed and laughed and laughed. The idea of dragging this monkey through the whole of Spain, only to burn it….that monkey would see all North of Spain, walk with Alberto 850 kilometres only to get burnt at the end of it. This was heartbreaking, cruel and hilarious all at once!

Let me introduce you to…..Babu the monkey!

Alberto didn’t think that was too funny and neither did the others I told this story, but I kept on laughing and laughing and laughing. Even though I was laughing about Alberto’s story, he wasn’t hurt, but decided to walk with me. A conversation was not possible, because I broke out in laughter everytime I opened my mouth. So I laughed and giggled, while he walked quietly next to me. After an hour we passed another village and Alberto asked me to have a break with him. So we sat down outside a bar. Once I sat, I came to my senses and got over the fact that he wants to burn a stuffed animal after carrying it through the whole of Spain. We tried talking, but due to my non-existing Italian and his bad English, we didn’t come far. His monkey story he could explain very well in English, but he had probably learnt it by heart, because he had to explain it to every pilgrim that he passed. With everything else, he needed Google Translate. Luckily that bar had wifi – or as the Spanish pronounce it “wee-fee”!

We started a very slow conversation, where I spoke as slowly English as I could and he looked up most of the words on Google Translate. We had a conversation about eating on the camino and I told him in the most basic English that I used to eat toast with Nutella every morning since I am a little girl – an unhealthy luxury that you can’t have on the camino. A glass of Nutella weighs so much, you can’t just carry it around with you in your backpack. “I can”, Alberto, aka Monkey Man, said and opened his backpack. He did not only carry a stuffed monkey around with him, but also a half-full glass of Nutella. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He also took out some bread and a knife and said: “Here, for you, is you birthday.” Once again I had tears in my eyes and enjoyed the most amazing and most surprising breakfast of my life. The camino is full of surprises.

the birthday girl with the poppy – a present from Alberto

birthday breakfast with incredibly expensive and heavy Nutella

This is Alberto, also named (by me) “The Monkey Man”.

After a while, Manuela, an Italian friend of Alberto, had joined us too, and after my delicious luxury breakfast, we continued walking together and ended up in El Burgo Ranero after only a short while. While Alberto was looking for Stefano and his other Italian friends in a private albergue, I was determined to stay in the mud-walled house that my guidebook had recommended me. A very simple house, but I would have never changed it for a luxurious hotel. I couldn’t think of anything better to accommodate me for my birthday. I checked in quickly and then headed out to the bar on the other side of the street to have some lunch. Jens, the Norwegian man, who I nearly killed the day before by offering him a soap-tasting pastry from Sahagún, was already sitting there, enjoying a beer in the sun. I thought he, his father Harald and Washington-Andy where behind me. How did they end up arriving before me? While I joined him at the bar, he explained that he had suffered from a tremendous pain in his foot and decided to take the taxi for the last 10 kilometres. His father and Andy were still on the way.

beautiful mud-walled albergue

I couldn’t help but think of my best friend Martin when I looked at him. The way he looked, the way he talked, the way he moved – he reminded me of my friend Martin, who I used to celebrate my teenage birthdays with. Somehow I ended up spending my birthday with a guy so similar to my friend Martin. The camino is full of surprises. After a while, a very good-looking young woman joined our table. She seemed to know Jens and I had seen her a couple of times in the last days. Jens mentioned that it was my birthday and the woman, who said her name was Julia, congratulated me. Suddenly, she said she had to go to the pharmacy, jumped up and was gone. I was a bit confused, but forgot all about the sudden parting, when I spotted my best camino friend, Santi the dog, standing outside the bar. I screamed: “Santi, is that really you?” Santi turned around, saw me and came running to greet me. I had said goodbye to Santi and his daddy Ansgar in Calzadilla de la Cueza. Ansgar had said that he would move on to Astorga and take a little break. Someone else would lead his camino tourist group. I had thought I would never see Santi and Ansgar again. However, it turned out that someone from Ansgar’s tourist group also had birthday and so Ansgar and Santi came to attend the birthday party.

Santi and Ansgar are happy to see me. And vice versa.

Best friends on the camino reunited!

What a lovely birthday surprise. I didn’t even have time to recover from the latest camino surprise, when Julia returned from the pharmacy – with a little cake in her hand that was decorated with a little candle. “It’s not much, but I think you should have a birthday cake for your birthday.” She also gave me a necklace with a yellow arrow-shaped pendant as a birthday present. I was so shocked by this heart-warming gesture by a total stranger that I just asked: “You got that from the pharmacy?” – “Of course not! I just needed an excuse to go shopping for you.” On the camino there are no strangers. We are all a family and someone you have met for five minutes can become your best friend.

When Harald and Andy finally arrived, I invited them, together with Jens and Julia, to join me for dinner later tonight. At the dinner table, Julia told me that she is also German, and like me, an English teacher. I couldn’t believe it. Here was a woman, so similar to me, treating me like a best friend. I thanked her, the camino and the universe. I was truly gifted. For this birthday I didn’t get big, expensive gifts. I got heart-warming tooth pasty birthday wishes and hugs, four-leaved clovers, a red poppy, a Nutella breakfast, a cuddle from Santi, cake, a camino necklace and new friends. I was the richest person on earth.

Before I went to bed, I noticed a bulletin board in the albergue. There was a piece of paper with a poem that I had seen as graffiti on the way before. I want to conclude today’s post with this touching poem, my camino poem:

The Way of Saint James

Is dust and mud, sun and rain

Trod by pilgrims in their thousands

For more than a thousand years.

*

Pilgrim, whose voice is calling you?

What hidden force leads you on?

Not the stars of the Milky Way,

Nor the lure of great cathedrals.

*

It’s not the wild heart of Navarre,

Nor the rich Riojan wines,

Nor the shellfish of Galicia,

Nor the broad Castilian fields.

*

Pilgrim, whose voice is calling you?

What hidden force leads you on?

Not the people on your way,

Nor the customs of the land.

*

Not the history or the cultures,

Not the cock of La Calzada,

Nor the palace of Gaudi,

Nor the castle of Ponferrada.

*

All this I see with pleasure

And having seen, pass by.

But for me the voice that calls

Comes, I feel, from deep inside.

*

The force that drives me on

I can never explain or show.

The force that draws me to it

Only the One above can know.

***

      Eugenio Garibay