We didn't bring many books with us, but we did bring 3:
1) Our excellent guide and map book for the Camino itself, that identified all the places to see and why, right down to the coffee stops.
2) A just as excellent historical and cultural guild to the Camino, packed full of detailed information on every piece of architecture, every church and chapel, every bridge - it's been a must read the night before to prepare for the next day kind of book
3) the Bible.
Our third book seemed an appropriate choice, despite the fact that neither of us subscribe to any organized religion. We find too much hypocrisy in all of them, in the past and in the present. But it's been pleasant to dip into it and read some of the Old Testament chapters, with their wonderful stories and allegories, and their angry God. I have always loved the song of Solomon, so that got another look at. Then some of the kinder, gentler New Testament's Apostles, the Acts, Revelations. and of course St. James.
His Epistle is very short, only 5 chapters, so I read it several times, thinking I would find one takeaway from each chapter that might actually be able to be incorporated into my life. This is what I came up with.
Chapter 1: Let every man (and woman!) be swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to wrath.
Chapter 2: Doing good is better than having faith.
Chapter 3: The tongue is a small part of the body, but if it is not tamed, it can defile the entire body with the poison of boasting, bitterness and envy.
Chapter 4: Our lives are vapour that appears for a little time and then vanishes, so be humble. Fights and wars that come out of lusts and greed are ultimately useless.
Chapter 5: Living the good life is ignoring others upon whose backs it may have come - give back.
Map of the Camino Frances
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Santiago - the Place
We had planned to visit Finisterre, some 100km to the west of Santiago and the westernmost piece of land in the ancient world. Thus the name, which means end of the earth: "finis" + "terre". But we were just not up to it - our bodies require rest. Besides, it looks like rain.
Our official document indicates a Camino journey of 799km, but that is more or less as the crow flies, without changes according to attractiveness or safety. I tracked every step we took, all the diversions to walk through quieter woodlands instead of along freeways, or to visit a particular site of interest. All of these are official Camino marked, so I suppose they assumed the average pilgrim would just do the shortest way possible. I also included our evening rambles and rest day footprints. All told, our grand total was 1,017.5 kilometres! Considerably more than the 900 we had researched. No wonder we feel a bit run down.
It seems ironic that we have contracted the flu in Spain. But it's even more ironic as the so-called Spanish Flu didn't originate in Spain at all; in fact, it had nothing to do with Spain. But Spain was the only country reporting on such things in 1918, when other countries were too obsessed with war secrecy that the dreadful flu news came from a back channel. It was the last world-wide pandemic and a monstrous one. Ours is just a persistent cough in comparison.
Instead, we spent a lovely day just wandering around Santiago. The old city is an oval shaped warren of narrow, cobbled streets, interesting shops and cafes, and lovely squares. We ventured into a park - already we are craving nature again! We realize that nature provides calm and solace, while people provide intellectual stimulation and community, both necessary.
We went back for a closer view of the Cathedral,
We didn't indulge in a platter of seafood for which this city is known but did have scallops (of course)
wonderful bowls of Galician soup, made with potatoes, big white beans and what is either turnip tops or kale but which they call chard, all in a delicious broth. That with some good bread was all we needed. Although we did have a tasting of our last Tarta de Santiago, a tart made with almonds with the icing sugar cutout design of the cross of St. James.
Tomorrow we take a 12 hour bus ride, a little heartbreakingly covering more than half the ground we walked, back along the north coast to Bilbao, but which has an airport better sized for our return home Friday.
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| view of a threatening sky from our room window |
It seems ironic that we have contracted the flu in Spain. But it's even more ironic as the so-called Spanish Flu didn't originate in Spain at all; in fact, it had nothing to do with Spain. But Spain was the only country reporting on such things in 1918, when other countries were too obsessed with war secrecy that the dreadful flu news came from a back channel. It was the last world-wide pandemic and a monstrous one. Ours is just a persistent cough in comparison.
 |
| a terrace at our hotel/seminary |
Instead, we spent a lovely day just wandering around Santiago. The old city is an oval shaped warren of narrow, cobbled streets, interesting shops and cafes, and lovely squares. We ventured into a park - already we are craving nature again! We realize that nature provides calm and solace, while people provide intellectual stimulation and community, both necessary.
We went back for a closer view of the Cathedral,
We didn't indulge in a platter of seafood for which this city is known but did have scallops (of course)
Tomorrow we take a 12 hour bus ride, a little heartbreakingly covering more than half the ground we walked, back along the north coast to Bilbao, but which has an airport better sized for our return home Friday.
Monday, October 29, 2018
Arrived!
Our last day, the 49th day of our Camino is here. all week we have heard the weather was changing on this day, so we steeled ourselves to prepare for the expected rain. Instead, we arose to a night sky alive with starshine, with a bright moon just on the wane. A Campus Stellae: a field of stars. How appropriate!
It was windy and cold, so we wrapped up well and set off. My head cold, which I thought had disappeared has lodged itself in the middle of my chest, and for a day or two I am wracked with phlegmy coughs all day and night. I am a bit heady and snuffly too, and my leg and back muscles are sore for no specific reason. I am even a bit nauseated at times. Maybe the body is starting to grow weary.
But walking seems to be fine and we were happy to see the way into the city followed the same type of paths along farmland fields with cows and goats and sheep and chicken, even a white horse in the mist rising from a field as the rising sun touched the trees. At one point we could see both ends of a wide-arching rainbow.
Then forest tracks, past enormous eucalyptus trees. These were brought to Spain from Australia over a century ago to provide pulp and paper. They are lovely trees, and their shedding bark is soft and brown, but I am distrustful of species brought into unfamiliar terrain and worry about their effects on the local wildlife. Nothing seems to grow under them, but the birds still seem to chirp in quantity and there seem to be no other wildlife, other than rats or mice.
At the 8 or 9km mark we sat for our usual coffee break, and within second came a whoosh of rain. We were able to move our table under the overhang, and were warm enough from the walking. It was like a summer rain at home, light and fragrant. As soon as we had finished our coffee, it was gone and the sun had returned. How lucky. We passed by many of the groups we have seen over the last few days, a group from Berkeley in California, and a large group of Japanese, to whom we have spoken what tiny Japanese we have and showed them my Henro Buddha beads I had obtained from the small pilgrimage we did on the island of Shikoku this spring. They all knew about the Henro - it is one of the other great pilgrimages in the world and well supported by the Japanese themselves.
At Lavacolla, pilgrims in days of yore traditionally had a good wash in the river here. I might add that the Muslims and Jews were quite good at hygiene, but the Christians, who made fun of them for their cleaning habits, were a filthy lot, and this could well have been the only time they actually cleaned themselves, or at least part of themselves. In the language of old Lavacolla meant to wash the scrotum. The river is a stream now, but I washed my walking sticks for the first time in the trip.
We passed around and under the airport, with small planes taking off over our heads, then passed the local television studios. Still thankfully, it was pretty rural going. At Monte del Gozo, a slightly elevated site, there is a monument, and - a view! Yes, we can see the city and just pick out the steeples of the Cathedral. It's little more than an hour away now!
Just as we entered the old part of the city, another torrent of rain. We hadn't planned on doing our daily arriving ritual here but fate and the weather persuaded us to duck into the first place we could for our half beer and cheers to arriving at the next stage. Our last stage.
As soon as the rain stopped, we gathered up and made the last few hundred feet, passing a young man playing the Galician version of the bagpipe to call us in. And then, there it was. The Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela! It was glistening with rain drops falling from its statues and metalwork, and the paving stones outside reflected the light as shining gold.
The rain threatened again and so we went to complete our pilgrim responsibilities. Inside the cathedral, it is possible to climb a small staircase up behind the altar, on which a statue of St. James looks. It might be one of the only ones that real people are allowed to access, and we were able to embrace the statue and than him for delivering us safely.
Upon descending these stairs, there is another small staircase, this one down into the crypt, where the earthly remains of St. James and 2 disciples lay in a lavish and large silver reliquary. After a quiet moment there, we went to sit and reflect on our journey, until I was just too beat and we left to check into our hotel where I lay my head in one of the plainest, smallest rooms we've had on the entire Camino. We are staying in the St. Mark Hospedalia and Seminary, which is still partly what it has been for centuries and partly a nice hotel. the disappointment in our plain room aside, I was grateful it was clean.
We roused ourselves to go to the pilgrim's office before it closed, so that we could get our Compostela, a document that acknowledges the spiritual intent on our journey (which must be described) as well as the mileage attained. a surly security guard sent us to the wrong line, but I had a lovely lady who went through my pilgrim passport to ensure I had a stamp for every day, and two for every day from Sarria. She particularly complimented me for going to the Museum of Chocolate in Astorga! Once she approved my application, she wrote my name in latin on my Compostela and then congratulated me with a hearty handshake.
That done we were off to the pilgrim's mass at the Cathedral, but I just could not make it. I thought I might either faint or vomit, so sloped off home and to bed.
After 12 hours rest (aided by an extra hour as the clocks changed), I felt a bit better, and we determined to remain resting until the noon mass. It is Sunday, our countries will be acknowledged because we completed the journey yesterday, and we will be included in the total of some 400 pilgrims who also made their entrance into the city yesterday. The Cathedral was packed, and we had to stand at the back, but we made sure we stood in one of the arms of the cross, just in case. In case of what?
The botafumerio, a large incense burner that requires 6 people to work it, hangs on a long rope on which it swings in a wide arch over the congregation of pilgrims. It was used originally to fumigate the sweaty and disease-ridden pilgrims. Now it is done for the ceremony of concluded pilgrimage, but because it requires paying 6 people to operate it, it does not swing every mass, and there was no way of knowing whether it would be operating in 'our' mass. To our delight, after the long mass, the botafumerio was lowered and then swung into action, and the sun shone through the high windows to made the swinging silver shine every time it hit the apex of its arc, the steam and smell of the incense falling gently. Even happier were we to hear the large tour group of Japanese pilgrims had paid for it. Another little Camino/Henro moment.
It was windy and cold, so we wrapped up well and set off. My head cold, which I thought had disappeared has lodged itself in the middle of my chest, and for a day or two I am wracked with phlegmy coughs all day and night. I am a bit heady and snuffly too, and my leg and back muscles are sore for no specific reason. I am even a bit nauseated at times. Maybe the body is starting to grow weary.
But walking seems to be fine and we were happy to see the way into the city followed the same type of paths along farmland fields with cows and goats and sheep and chicken, even a white horse in the mist rising from a field as the rising sun touched the trees. At one point we could see both ends of a wide-arching rainbow.
At the 8 or 9km mark we sat for our usual coffee break, and within second came a whoosh of rain. We were able to move our table under the overhang, and were warm enough from the walking. It was like a summer rain at home, light and fragrant. As soon as we had finished our coffee, it was gone and the sun had returned. How lucky. We passed by many of the groups we have seen over the last few days, a group from Berkeley in California, and a large group of Japanese, to whom we have spoken what tiny Japanese we have and showed them my Henro Buddha beads I had obtained from the small pilgrimage we did on the island of Shikoku this spring. They all knew about the Henro - it is one of the other great pilgrimages in the world and well supported by the Japanese themselves.
At Lavacolla, pilgrims in days of yore traditionally had a good wash in the river here. I might add that the Muslims and Jews were quite good at hygiene, but the Christians, who made fun of them for their cleaning habits, were a filthy lot, and this could well have been the only time they actually cleaned themselves, or at least part of themselves. In the language of old Lavacolla meant to wash the scrotum. The river is a stream now, but I washed my walking sticks for the first time in the trip.
We passed around and under the airport, with small planes taking off over our heads, then passed the local television studios. Still thankfully, it was pretty rural going. At Monte del Gozo, a slightly elevated site, there is a monument, and - a view! Yes, we can see the city and just pick out the steeples of the Cathedral. It's little more than an hour away now!
Just as we entered the old part of the city, another torrent of rain. We hadn't planned on doing our daily arriving ritual here but fate and the weather persuaded us to duck into the first place we could for our half beer and cheers to arriving at the next stage. Our last stage.
As soon as the rain stopped, we gathered up and made the last few hundred feet, passing a young man playing the Galician version of the bagpipe to call us in. And then, there it was. The Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela! It was glistening with rain drops falling from its statues and metalwork, and the paving stones outside reflected the light as shining gold.
The rain threatened again and so we went to complete our pilgrim responsibilities. Inside the cathedral, it is possible to climb a small staircase up behind the altar, on which a statue of St. James looks. It might be one of the only ones that real people are allowed to access, and we were able to embrace the statue and than him for delivering us safely.
 |
| I'll try to get a better photo, but can you see it, someones hands around St. James's neck as they embrace him from behind? |
Upon descending these stairs, there is another small staircase, this one down into the crypt, where the earthly remains of St. James and 2 disciples lay in a lavish and large silver reliquary. After a quiet moment there, we went to sit and reflect on our journey, until I was just too beat and we left to check into our hotel where I lay my head in one of the plainest, smallest rooms we've had on the entire Camino. We are staying in the St. Mark Hospedalia and Seminary, which is still partly what it has been for centuries and partly a nice hotel. the disappointment in our plain room aside, I was grateful it was clean.
We roused ourselves to go to the pilgrim's office before it closed, so that we could get our Compostela, a document that acknowledges the spiritual intent on our journey (which must be described) as well as the mileage attained. a surly security guard sent us to the wrong line, but I had a lovely lady who went through my pilgrim passport to ensure I had a stamp for every day, and two for every day from Sarria. She particularly complimented me for going to the Museum of Chocolate in Astorga! Once she approved my application, she wrote my name in latin on my Compostela and then congratulated me with a hearty handshake.
That done we were off to the pilgrim's mass at the Cathedral, but I just could not make it. I thought I might either faint or vomit, so sloped off home and to bed.
After 12 hours rest (aided by an extra hour as the clocks changed), I felt a bit better, and we determined to remain resting until the noon mass. It is Sunday, our countries will be acknowledged because we completed the journey yesterday, and we will be included in the total of some 400 pilgrims who also made their entrance into the city yesterday. The Cathedral was packed, and we had to stand at the back, but we made sure we stood in one of the arms of the cross, just in case. In case of what?
The botafumerio, a large incense burner that requires 6 people to work it, hangs on a long rope on which it swings in a wide arch over the congregation of pilgrims. It was used originally to fumigate the sweaty and disease-ridden pilgrims. Now it is done for the ceremony of concluded pilgrimage, but because it requires paying 6 people to operate it, it does not swing every mass, and there was no way of knowing whether it would be operating in 'our' mass. To our delight, after the long mass, the botafumerio was lowered and then swung into action, and the sun shone through the high windows to made the swinging silver shine every time it hit the apex of its arc, the steam and smell of the incense falling gently. Even happier were we to hear the large tour group of Japanese pilgrims had paid for it. Another little Camino/Henro moment.
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Getting Close
You know you are getting close when the villages and towns include more and more Santiago allusions to their civic decor.
Sold!
Along the Camino, there are considerable signs of construction and reconstruction, as economic life comes back to this part of Spain, albeit slowly and incrementally. Everywhere there are signs "se vende" (for sale) on everything from a pile of rubble behind a broken fence to something that might be worth salvaging. We are constantly telling ourselves what a good buy this or that would be (tongue firmly planted in cheek).
What has impressed us if the enormous amount of work these people, sometimes young-ish couples with children, have put in to renovate a wreck of am 18th Century farm or a 17th Century manor house. These places are lovely, and the care that is put into everything, food included, is way more than what we have expected and found thus far.
A few photos of what I mean.....
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| home smoked hams! |
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| 17th century servants stairway |
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| now that's a fireplace! (runs between two rooms, with ovens at each end |
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| you can't see it, but that's a stream running into the dining room behind us |
Thursday, October 25, 2018
Pilgrim Menu
50 days of walking over 800km requires sustenance and fortification. This comes from the ubiquitous, cheap and rarely changing 10 euro ($15) pilgrim menus that are offered at every cafe, the same for both lunch and dinner. And yes, the portions are huge and the quality variable. Very variable!
A menu of the day includes first and second course, dessert, a bottle of local wine, water and bread. All good I hear you say; however, the one complication is that the stratification between what makes a first course vs a second course bears only general resemblance to what you might expect. Each course on its own could feed a family of four. Here's a sample:
Primer Plato (a huge plate of....)
Mixed Salad (including tuna, egg and white asparagus)
Soup of Vegetables or lentils or beans of some variation
Paella
Bean stew
Spaghetti in tomato sauce
Segundo Plato (a reasonable to huge plate of....)
Pork steak and chips
Beef steak and chips
Chicken and chips
Trout and chips
Postre (actually quite a small, unintimidating helping given what has come before)
Rice pudding
Flan
Santiago almond tart
local cheese and quince paste
Cornetto/Viennetta
Yoghourt/Junket
This is all good but represents an enormous amount of food to eat and down a bottle of wine every day (which we rarely do) Even walking a million steps does not need this calorific intake especially by those trained to eat everything on the plate. We found this out after the initial excitement that a plate of paella the size of my head was an appetizer, and that we were putting on weight even with walking a half marathon every day. It seems that a main course is meat/fish and potatoes (usually fries), and a first course is anything that is not meat/fish and fries.
And sometimes the food is hot, sometimes cold and sometimes lukewarm. Another exciting variable is that not all the menus are written down, so in a fit of panic in the face of very busy wait staff you are making important decisions on the fly as they rattle off up to 20 options! And sometimes this is up to 10pm at night as the Spanish to not like to eat early.
We feel we have conquered the pilgrim menu now. Basic strategies involve not eating lunch (more than one pilgrim menu a day would kill you), being very disciplined with what we eat at breakfast based on the 2000 calories we downed at 9pm the night before, one of us ordering the ensalada mixta with no holds barred on the other choices, and reminding each other that we do not have to eat everything on the plate and drink the whole bottle of wine and eat all the bread or have coffee afterwards.
We are quite looking forward to not eating bread and/or fries again.
A menu of the day includes first and second course, dessert, a bottle of local wine, water and bread. All good I hear you say; however, the one complication is that the stratification between what makes a first course vs a second course bears only general resemblance to what you might expect. Each course on its own could feed a family of four. Here's a sample:
Primer Plato (a huge plate of....)
Mixed Salad (including tuna, egg and white asparagus)
Soup of Vegetables or lentils or beans of some variation
Paella
Bean stew
Spaghetti in tomato sauce
Segundo Plato (a reasonable to huge plate of....)
Pork steak and chips
Beef steak and chips
Chicken and chips
Trout and chips
Postre (actually quite a small, unintimidating helping given what has come before)
Rice pudding
Flan
Santiago almond tart
local cheese and quince paste
Cornetto/Viennetta
Yoghourt/Junket
This is all good but represents an enormous amount of food to eat and down a bottle of wine every day (which we rarely do) Even walking a million steps does not need this calorific intake especially by those trained to eat everything on the plate. We found this out after the initial excitement that a plate of paella the size of my head was an appetizer, and that we were putting on weight even with walking a half marathon every day. It seems that a main course is meat/fish and potatoes (usually fries), and a first course is anything that is not meat/fish and fries.
And sometimes the food is hot, sometimes cold and sometimes lukewarm. Another exciting variable is that not all the menus are written down, so in a fit of panic in the face of very busy wait staff you are making important decisions on the fly as they rattle off up to 20 options! And sometimes this is up to 10pm at night as the Spanish to not like to eat early.
We feel we have conquered the pilgrim menu now. Basic strategies involve not eating lunch (more than one pilgrim menu a day would kill you), being very disciplined with what we eat at breakfast based on the 2000 calories we downed at 9pm the night before, one of us ordering the ensalada mixta with no holds barred on the other choices, and reminding each other that we do not have to eat everything on the plate and drink the whole bottle of wine and eat all the bread or have coffee afterwards.
We are quite looking forward to not eating bread and/or fries again.
Famous Footsteps
It is easy to imagine thousands, nay millions of other pilgrims moving along the Camino over the centuries, with the paths well-trodden, steps well-worn, and lanes worn deep. We are reminded of some through the sad memorials, some dying within a day or two of reaching their earthly destination. Others are remembered in the various pilgrim cemeteries that still survive. No doubt more bones are mere dust somewhere over the land.
A particularly lovely sentiment in one of books says "...all my ancestors are behind me. 'Be still' they say. 'Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.'
Some pilgrims are remembered for their celebrity. The oldest one was St. James himself of course, one of the apostles. Apparently there were 2 James on the rota of the 12 apostles - this one is also known as James the greater or senior, (pity the other one known as James the Lesser). the Camino James was apostle John's brother, which must have made their father Zebedee (a fisherman) and mother (Salome) proud. He was called to teach the lesson of Christ in Iberia and, when he returned to Jerusalem he was shortly after beheaded by Herod, in the year 44. His body was brought back to Galicia to be buried, where it lay undisturbed for several centuries.
In the early 9th century, a hermit discovered his body, after seeing a bright star over a hillside, marking the spot and a chapel was built over it. (The remains of a Roman cemetery were below that, and a pre-Roman necropils was below that, so it's been a revered place for a long, long time). Because of the hermit's vision, this was called the "campus stellae" (the field of the star), which later (and remains) became known as Compostela. The small chapel was soon replaced with a larger chapel, and in 896 Alfonso III had a larger church constructed to handle the growing number of pilgrims. In the late 11th century this was all knocked down with the desire to erect a truly spectacular edifice, incredibly quickly. Maestro Mateo constructed the Portico de la Gloria, as more and more chapels were added.
One of the first pilgrims of real substance seems to be Godescalco, Archbishop of Le Puy, who has been recorded here in 950AD, shortly after the Camino actually became established and popular. Aymeric Picaud was here around 1140. A French scholar, he authored the Codex Calixtinus, which was in essence the first guidebook of the Camino, written for the benefit of pilgrims and still used and referred to as a source of historical and cultural material.
Another well known Camino pilgrim was St. Francis of Assisi in 1214, who preached along way, and there is a church where he preached in Astorga. That same year, Saint Francisco was also on the Camino, and founded a church in Villafranca del Biezo.
Lorenzo de Medici, King Sigurd of Norway, Saint Godric (an English hermit of the 12th century), as well as many dukes, earls, bishops and archbishops made the pilgrimage, which from the start was one of the three more important Christian pilgrimages to make (the others being Jerusalem and Rome). Making the pilgrimage took up for 3 years and was considered an investment in one's afterlife.
One of my favourite is Saint Birgitta of Sweden. She was born in 1303, married off at 14 and bore 8 children, four of each, 6 of whim survived infancy which is a miracle in itself. She and her husband completed the pilgrimage together (to and from Sweden!) in 1340, shortly after which her husband died. She then devoted herself to a life of prayer and good works. She made pilgrimages to both Jerusalem and Rome, set up an order, the Brigittines, a community for both men and women to live together (extremely rare!), who were also allowed to have as many books as they wanted (this was in the 14th century when books were hand written and illuminated, costly and rare!). Living out her days in Rome, she worked unceasingly against Church abuses. Her daughter became St. Catherine of Sweden. Now that's girl power!
Of the modern pilgrims, actors Shirley MacLaine (at age 60) and Martin Sheen are mentioned again and again. Martin Sheen and his son Emilio Estevez together made the film "The Way" in 2010, which, judging from the conversations we've had, seems to have inspired more Americans to do the Camino than anything else.
A particularly lovely sentiment in one of books says "...all my ancestors are behind me. 'Be still' they say. 'Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.'
Some pilgrims are remembered for their celebrity. The oldest one was St. James himself of course, one of the apostles. Apparently there were 2 James on the rota of the 12 apostles - this one is also known as James the greater or senior, (pity the other one known as James the Lesser). the Camino James was apostle John's brother, which must have made their father Zebedee (a fisherman) and mother (Salome) proud. He was called to teach the lesson of Christ in Iberia and, when he returned to Jerusalem he was shortly after beheaded by Herod, in the year 44. His body was brought back to Galicia to be buried, where it lay undisturbed for several centuries.
In the early 9th century, a hermit discovered his body, after seeing a bright star over a hillside, marking the spot and a chapel was built over it. (The remains of a Roman cemetery were below that, and a pre-Roman necropils was below that, so it's been a revered place for a long, long time). Because of the hermit's vision, this was called the "campus stellae" (the field of the star), which later (and remains) became known as Compostela. The small chapel was soon replaced with a larger chapel, and in 896 Alfonso III had a larger church constructed to handle the growing number of pilgrims. In the late 11th century this was all knocked down with the desire to erect a truly spectacular edifice, incredibly quickly. Maestro Mateo constructed the Portico de la Gloria, as more and more chapels were added.
One of the first pilgrims of real substance seems to be Godescalco, Archbishop of Le Puy, who has been recorded here in 950AD, shortly after the Camino actually became established and popular. Aymeric Picaud was here around 1140. A French scholar, he authored the Codex Calixtinus, which was in essence the first guidebook of the Camino, written for the benefit of pilgrims and still used and referred to as a source of historical and cultural material.
Another well known Camino pilgrim was St. Francis of Assisi in 1214, who preached along way, and there is a church where he preached in Astorga. That same year, Saint Francisco was also on the Camino, and founded a church in Villafranca del Biezo.
Lorenzo de Medici, King Sigurd of Norway, Saint Godric (an English hermit of the 12th century), as well as many dukes, earls, bishops and archbishops made the pilgrimage, which from the start was one of the three more important Christian pilgrimages to make (the others being Jerusalem and Rome). Making the pilgrimage took up for 3 years and was considered an investment in one's afterlife.
One of my favourite is Saint Birgitta of Sweden. She was born in 1303, married off at 14 and bore 8 children, four of each, 6 of whim survived infancy which is a miracle in itself. She and her husband completed the pilgrimage together (to and from Sweden!) in 1340, shortly after which her husband died. She then devoted herself to a life of prayer and good works. She made pilgrimages to both Jerusalem and Rome, set up an order, the Brigittines, a community for both men and women to live together (extremely rare!), who were also allowed to have as many books as they wanted (this was in the 14th century when books were hand written and illuminated, costly and rare!). Living out her days in Rome, she worked unceasingly against Church abuses. Her daughter became St. Catherine of Sweden. Now that's girl power!
Of the modern pilgrims, actors Shirley MacLaine (at age 60) and Martin Sheen are mentioned again and again. Martin Sheen and his son Emilio Estevez together made the film "The Way" in 2010, which, judging from the conversations we've had, seems to have inspired more Americans to do the Camino than anything else.
Melide's Best
The small town of Melide used to be a very important and prosperous pilgrim stop, but was several hundred years ago. Now it's a fairly uninspiring town. But it does have a couple of key elements no pilgrim worth her salt must ignore.
First, there is the cross in front of the St. Roque church. It is the oldest cross on the entire Camino, and one of the finest in Galicia no matter what age. Carved in the 14th century, it has withstood lashing Galician rain and scorching sun, pollution and economic collapse, and the gaze of millions of pilgrim eyes for almost 800 years, and yet its carving of the crucifixion and God the Father are still easily deciphered and detailed.
The other thing for which Melide is famous for is boiled pulpo. Why a landlocked town is famous for fresh cooked octopus is anyone's guess, but it is. So of course we had to try it.
We walked into on of the most popular pulperias and ordered a plate with a could of beers. A large cauldron boiled red with octopi, one of which was extracted, cut into chunks, then poured with olive oil and sprinkled with chili powder and brought to our table. Using toothpicks, we were thrilled with how tender and delicious it was: the outside so delicate it melted in the mouth, and the inside, white part, a little more substantial but tender and not at all chewy or rubbery, as some octopus I have eaten in the past, in other places, has been. The chili powder gave it a little heat, which was good, as pretty much the only spice we have experienced in Spain has been salt.
Apparently, on Sundays at noon, ladies park themselves on streetcorners with black cauldrons, serving rations of octopus from the pot. This being a weekday, we were happy enough to sit with locals and other pilgrims who crammed into this place with the black awning, a place that looks like it recently had to double in size to contain its dining audience.
First, there is the cross in front of the St. Roque church. It is the oldest cross on the entire Camino, and one of the finest in Galicia no matter what age. Carved in the 14th century, it has withstood lashing Galician rain and scorching sun, pollution and economic collapse, and the gaze of millions of pilgrim eyes for almost 800 years, and yet its carving of the crucifixion and God the Father are still easily deciphered and detailed.
The other thing for which Melide is famous for is boiled pulpo. Why a landlocked town is famous for fresh cooked octopus is anyone's guess, but it is. So of course we had to try it.
We walked into on of the most popular pulperias and ordered a plate with a could of beers. A large cauldron boiled red with octopi, one of which was extracted, cut into chunks, then poured with olive oil and sprinkled with chili powder and brought to our table. Using toothpicks, we were thrilled with how tender and delicious it was: the outside so delicate it melted in the mouth, and the inside, white part, a little more substantial but tender and not at all chewy or rubbery, as some octopus I have eaten in the past, in other places, has been. The chili powder gave it a little heat, which was good, as pretty much the only spice we have experienced in Spain has been salt.
Apparently, on Sundays at noon, ladies park themselves on streetcorners with black cauldrons, serving rations of octopus from the pot. This being a weekday, we were happy enough to sit with locals and other pilgrims who crammed into this place with the black awning, a place that looks like it recently had to double in size to contain its dining audience.
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