Buen Camino!

Santiago de Compostela, Spain - Sunday 29th May 2016

Spain has never really been on the list of countries I desperately wanted to visit, but when my dad announced 18 months ago that he was planning to walk the Camino de Santiago, I jokingly said I'd meet him at the end.

On 28th February this year, he set off on his long walk, from our home in north Wales, aiming to reach the city of Santiago de Compostela at the start of June; and never one to pass over an opportunity to go travelling, I promptly booked flights.

And here I am.

I arrived late last night, so decided to have a fairly lazy morning, before walking 5 minutes up the road to meet dad in his hotel for breakfast at 9am.  My hostal, Mexico PR, is great in may ways - a really comfy single en-suite room for 35€ a night - but a Rosy-proof breakfast isn't one of the things I would expect.  Dad's hotel, however, offers a whole assortment of gluten free options ('sin gluten'), as well as cereals, fruit, meats, cheeses and breads, for those who can eat normal food.  They also agreed to keep soya milk in their fridge, so that solves one problem for the week.

After breakfast, we walked through the old town, following the Camino backwards, away from the city, to meet dad's friends Paul and Jane, who have kept him company on part of his long walk.  Dad walks twice as fast as I do (he's had more practice), so I half expected I'd have to run to keep up, but maybe he took pity on me, and I only had to walk slightly faster than normal!

Since dad started his pilgrimage, he has been keeping a blog, so I had an idea of the importance that this route plays in so many people's lives, but I definitely wasn't prepared to experience even just a small part of it for real.

As we set off from the old town of Santiago, dad showed me the markers he has been following for the past few months - fairly obvious signposts (if you're walking in the right direction), little clam shell studs in the pavement, and yellow arrows spray-painted along the path.  I got excited every time I spotted one, but I guess dad is so used to them that after three months he doesn't seem to see them any more.  Regardless, it was exciting to know I was on the Camino.

This marker was in the middle of a roundabout! At home, these yellow arrows on the road tell utilities workers to dig here, so I imagine it could get a bit confusing...

Within a few minutes, dad pointed out a group of people with muddy boots, walking poles, and big rucksacks - pelegrinos (pilgrims).  This was just the beginning.  By the time we reached the Pilgrim's Monument, Monte do Gozo (Hill of Joy), about 6km from the hotel, we must have passed at least 100 pilgrims.

Monte do Gozo - it looks very atmospheric with the big black cloud.  It's actually been a lovely day, apart from a couple of spots of rain, so I have no idea where that cloud came from!

Shelter and refreshments at Monte do Gozo - one of many rest stops along the Camino - with some pelegrinos.

A lot of people walk the Camino every year, but I wasn't expecting to see so many all in the same place, all at the same time.  Walking the Camino is definitely a big deal, although it has also become somewhat of a tourist attraction (as evidenced by the very clean-looking groups of people just carrying day packs, having sent their luggage on ahead).  Everyone walks the Camino for their own reasons, and in their own way.

Amongst them, we passed a girl wearing one walking boot and one flip flop, who I guess had some foot problems.  A few minutes later, we spotted a lady who seemed to be in a great deal of pain, walking incredibly slowly, but clearly refusing to stop (we passed her later on our way back into the city, and I was so pleased to see she had made it).  The juxtaposition between these two ladies and the 'tourist pilgrims' was striking.

Another thing that struck me as we were walking was the friendships and relationships that develop along the way.  As we walked, dad spotted faces that he recognised, people he'd chatted to or helped along, and a few more familiar faces of friends he's made on his journey (some of these we stopped to chat to, which was a welcome break from running to keep up!)  All along the route, people call 'hola' and 'buen Camino' to the passing pelegrinos, and this became somewhat of a soundtrack for the day.

We met Paul and Jane just past Monte do Gozo, and walked with them back into Santiago (stopping briefly at the Pilgrim's Gate, which marks the entrance to the city, and again shortly after for a toilet stop, a beer/juice, and some olives).  Following the route into Santiago was a little emotionally overwhelming.  The excitement, relief, sadness and joy among the pelegrinos as we approached the Cathedral of St James, the end of the road for most, was palpable, and I may have teared up a little (thank goodness for sunglasses!) I asked dad earlier in the day how he was feeling, and he struggled to find the words, but I think lost probably sums it up - you spend months planning and preparing to walk the Camino; while you are walking, you just need to worry about walking (plus where you're going to eat, sleep, and go for a wee); and then you get to the end and suddenly that routine is gone.  I imagine it must be completely overwhelming, but really I can't imagine it at all.

Paul and Jane approaching the Pilgrim's Gate, at the entrance to Santiago de Compostela

One of the most important things for a pilgrim is, apparently, food.  Dad had arrived a couple of days before me, and had scouted out a couple of restaurants which offered Rosy-proof food - somewhat unexpected in a region where meat and seafood make up the bulk of most menus.  For lunch, he took us to Casa Manolo, which serves a three course set menu for 9.50€.  Although there was nothing Rosy-proof on the main course menu, I ordered two starters.

Ensalada mixta

I began with the most beautiful mixed salad, and even the tomatoes were delicious (I normally hate raw tomatoes) - the photos do not do it justice.  This was followed by huevas (eggs) baked in a small paella pan with tomato and 'green things' (that's the literal translation from Spanish, apparently... they turned out to be peas and mange touts, and a single tiny, unexpected, piece of carrot).  I forgot to take a photo, I was too excited to start eating, but trust me, it was stunning.  It's amazing what a difference fresh, local, vegetables make to a dish, and I definitely think we get the crap end of the deal with the imported produce we get in the UK!

I wouldn't have managed three courses - the portions were huge - but I absolutely would not begrudge paying 9.50€ for the two courses I did have.  Dad, Paul and I also shared a bottle of red wine, which was the perfect accompaniment to lunch, and set me up very nicely for a siesta.

After a fairly long, albeit relaxed, morning, I headed back to my hotel for a couple of hours, where I napped, read, and managed to cover myself in strawberry calippo (ice lolly), before heading back out for dinner.

I'd like to write more about dinner, but this post is already fairly long, so I'll save that for another day.

Buenos noches!