the Camino de Santiago (chaos)

Day 7, another day of contrast. It was a very long day of walking, around 30 kilometers or 20 miles. My feet were not yet ready for this lengthy of a walk and I developed my first blisters, actually 6 of them! We arrived in the evening, around 630pm, to our destination, Logrono.  Logrono is a university city with a population of 130,000, similar in both these respects to Fort Collins, the city I live in. Logrono is also the capital of the wine-growing region of La Rioja. 

Throughout the day, we had heard from other pilgrims that today, Saturday, was the first day of a week-long wine harvesting festival being celebrated in Logrono. Many pilgrims opted to stay in a town 10 kilometers before Logrono because of worry over the availability of sleeping accommodations, but we were excited to experience the festival and decided to keep walking. I noticed my own feelings of scarcity and worry, and instead, I set my intent on creating abundance.

Walking into this city was surreal, especially after a full day of walking in nature. It was like Mardi Gras on steroids! College-aged kids packed the streets and were so intoxicated that it was scary. There were people throwing bottles on the ground, guys peeing in the open amongst the crowds in broad daylight, couples making out as if unaware anyone else was there, guys fighting, other guys with bloody faces and shirts I’m guessing from earlier fights.... It literally was total chaos! (We later learned that unemployment in Spain is at a staggering 25% and that the young adult population is the most affected, hence, the amplification of the celebration.)

We ran into some other pilgrims who said that all the albergues were “complete,” the Spaniard’s english word for “full,” and that the hotels were full as well. Mason and our friend were happy to sleep under the stars outside of town that night, but me, not so much! At some point over the last week, I had heard that parish albergues do not turn anyone away, so I encouraged them to give the church a try. 

Churches and cathedrals along the Camino are always located in the old part of the towns and cities, which in Logrono was where the heart of the partying was going on. So we made our way through the crowds, doing our best to avoid the pee rivers (I’m not exaggerating! The stench was horrible too!) and broken glass and aggressive drunks, and knocked on the locked door of the Catedral de Santa Maria de la Redonda.

The door opened and, in one brief moment, we stepped out of mayhem and into serenity. 

....to be continued!

Buen Camino!

the Camino de Santiago (a day of contrasts - the suffering)

At the end of our fifth day of walking, we experienced a dramatic contrast from the rest of our day, which to this point had been rich with laughter, rainbows and reuniting with a friend.

Mason, our friend, and I were crossing a bridge over a river. We three were slower, more contemplative walkers than most pilgrims, so there were no other people around. I heard a horse neighing and spotted him a short distance away in a field across the river. He was staring me down, and continuing to neigh. When I looked closer, it looked as if he only had 3 legs. Was that right? I wasn’t sure but it was clear he was trying to get our attention, so I called Mason and our friend over and we headed toward him.

It is difficult to even write about this encounter. This horse had lost his back left leg from the knee down. His wound was not fully healed yet and there were bees swarming it. His rib cage was protruding from a lack of food and he had a braided cloth bridle/rein around his neck with burrs all over it and burrs covered his mane as well. He was a horrific sight.

A wave of shock and sorrow washed over the three of us. We were at a loss at what to do. We were out in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t know if he was lost, or if had been abandoned by his owner. It appeared very unlikely that he was being cared for by anyone. For the first time in my life, I wished that I had a gun, so that I could put this dear creature out of his misery.

The horse shook his head in a very agitated manner. We thought that he wanted the burr-filled noose removed from his neck. But when I tried to get close enough to him to remove it, he was too spooked and skittish and moved away. Witnessing his attempt at walking made us immediately back away from him to a distance that he was comfortable. His hips dramatically curved without a leg to even them out and when he struggled to walk it looked as if his spine would twist and snap in two from the weight of his hip muscles and pelvis. We were witnessing the embodiment of pure suffering and despair, and our heartache in our helplessness was unbearable.

Our time with the horse was teary-eyed, solemn and prayer-filled. We broke off pieces of bread from our baguette and threw them to him, which he quickly gobbled up. Although the river was so close, there was no way he could maneuver down its banks, so we searched for a container to bring him water, but to no avail, so we soaked the bread pieces with water from our water bottles.

We all wanted the same thing; we wanted this horse’s suffering to end, but we didn’t have the capacity to stop it.  So we did the only thing we had the ability to do in that moment and that was to show kindness and share love with him. Our hearts were still breaking though.

Later, when we arrived at our albergue, we asked other pilgrims if they had seen the 3-legged horse, and no one had. Why had the Camino “provided” us with this gruesome experience of pure suffering and agony?

...to be continued.

the Camino de Santiago (a day of contrasts - the beauty)

“The Camino will provide” is a common mantra on the pilgrimage, and it provided me with a host of insightful experiences, making it difficult to know where to begin. I’m just going to jump in with a day of contrasts; day 5 of my pilgrimage.

Mason and I woke up this morning to a rough night’s sleep. Our room in this particular albergue (pilgrim hostel) had 8 bunk beds and Mason and I were on top bunks with two Spaniard men who didn’t speak any English sleeping below us.  At some point during the previous night, after lights out at 10pm, a cot was brought into our room for a pilgrim who also left in the morning before daylight. Although we never saw him, we sure heard him! It was our first encounter (of too many) with a horrendous snorer...the type of snoring you would swear is magnified by your ear plugs and feels so powerful that it stirs the air into waves that crash against your body and the walls and the ceiling of the room! You get the idea!

When Mason and I hopped off our bunks (actually, I am already waddling at this point because of feet pain), the two Spaniards started imitating the snorer and in charades-like fashion illustrated all of their failed attempts through the night at getting this guy to shut up...shining their flashlights on him, making animal sounds to wake him up and even throwing things at him! I am laughing from my gut - the kind of laughter that brings tears to your eyes and literally doubles you over and makes you worry that you might pee in your pants! I have often heard the phrase “laughter is the best medicine” and for the first time I felt the transformative power of laughter and was truly grateful to start my day with this flood of positivity! 

Mason and I set out walking on this beautiful, crisp blue-skied day, and while climbing a mountain, Mason spotted a faint rainbow. As we reached the top of the mountain trail, the rainbow intensified and we could see our path for many kilometers ahead of us heading directly through the center of this rainbow. Gradually, clouds began to gather and a second rainbow appeared above the first one, both framing a hilltop village (Cirauqui, the first of many villages that Mason claimed as his favorite!) that we were headed towards. The rainbows felt like they appeared for us pilgrims, beckoning us to continue on our journeys with beauty and awe and magic in our hearts.

At lunch, we met up with a travel buddy who had already become like family to us. The day just kept getting better and more beautiful. And then, at the end of our day, the contrast.

...to be continued.

Buen Camino!