There are two ways to experience Santiago de Compostela.
The first, a fairly traditional option I guess, is to buy a guide book, read it, write a list of everything you'd like to do, and then work your way through the list of museums, galleries, cathedrals, and recommended places to eat, hoping to tick off as many as you can in the week or so that you have before heading back to real life.
This is absolutely the option that I had expected to take - dad wasn't due to arrive until tomorrow, so I'd planned to spend a couple of days wandering around the museums and galleries, getting a taste of Santiago, before dad arrived, when we'd maybe go to the cathedral and catch up. Since he arrived early, the plan went out of the window, and this is where I've discovered a different, and much better, way to 'do' Santiago.
This morning, after a leisurely breakfast at dad's hotel, we wandered into town to meet up with Paul, and to Plaza del Obradoiro - the square at the front of the Cathedral where pilgrims gather at the end of their journeys. Here we bumped into a group of girls dad and Paul met at the start of the Camino, and there were some very emotional goodbyes, as they headed off to Fisterra, the very end for those who keep walking through Santiago. I really enjoyed meeting them, partly because they were around the same age as me (whereas the other pilgrims I've met so far have been older), but also because it was nice to see that age doesn't matter on the Camino - it really isn't important whether you're in your 20s or your 60s, everyone just mucks in and supports each other.
One of the big things for pilgrims to do at the end of their journey is attend the Pilgrim Mass in the cathedral, held every day at midday. I'm really not religious, but I wanted to visit the cathedral, so dad and I headed in shortly after 11am to find a seat.
Half an hour before the Mass started, the cathedral was full of people. We were sitting in the back row of the north transept (that's what Google tells me it's called anyway), and there were about 15 rows of people sitting or standing on the steps and the floor behind us.
The Mass was all in either Spanish or Latin - I'm going to say Spanish, but there was definitely some Latin in there... either way, I couldn't tell you what exactly was being said. At the start, a list of countries was read out, with the number of pilgrims who had arrived in the previous 24 hours from each. I couldn't work out the exact number, but there were a lot of countries, so I'd say it was a lot of pilgrims.
During the mass, it was nice to just sit and listen, to stand when everyone stood, and to sit when they sat. The homily (the bit when the priest talks, normally after a reading or similar) was, apparently, the same that is delivered every day, and I have no idea what was actually said, but I don't think that matters. I don't think the religion really matters at all, actually. I don't speak any Spanish, but I picked up some words that I recognised - 'sera' (as in que sera sera - what will be will be), 'por que' (why - thanks to Fawlty Towers for that one), and pelegrino (pilgrim, obviously). Everything else was just 'stuff'. The thing I'm starting to learn about the Camino, and pilgrimage, is that you make of it what you want, so that's how I interpreted this homily. Why are you on this journey (as a pilgrim)? Why are you doing this? The only way is to do it for yourself - everything else will just happen. I don't know, or even care, if that's what was actually said - that's what I took from it, and that's all that matters.
At the end of the service, incense is spread by the Botafumeiro - a massive contraption filled with herbs and fire - which is hanging from a rope above the central altar. This is raised into the centre of the cathedral and swung from side to side, pulled by eight men. It is, frankly, terrifying. At its highest, it is horizontal to the floor, and can swing at up to 70 miles per hour, and although we were asked not to take photos during the service, I completely understand why so many people ignored the request.
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| Preparing the Botafumeiro |
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| My camera does not take good pictures at 70mph... You get the idea. |
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| I had to take a photo of all the mobile phones... The Botafumeiro at the bottom of it's swing... |
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| ... and as the Botafumeiro went up, so did the phones... |
At the end of the service, dad asked me what I thought. I find this type of question very difficult. I am not religious, I don't believe in God, and I find it very difficult to reconcile something like a Catholic Mass with anything that I do believe. From a sociology perspective, I suppose I find this type of ritual to be an interesting opportunity to people-watch, but it is something I struggle with (the cynic in me thinks it's a lot of faffy nonsense). However, I do think the spiritual side of the service, particularly with it being in a language I don't speak, did give me an opportunity to reflect on life - something I definitely don't take enough time to do 'in real life'.
The plan for this afternoon was to play the tourist - we fully intended to have lunch and then go to a couple of museums. As we headed off in search of food, we passed a bar and spotted a couple of dad's walking acquaintances, so we decided to stop for a quick drink. Four hours in a sunny beer garden, and a few bottles of wine/ pints of beer later, all plans had gone out of the window.
This brings me on to the second way to experience Santiago.
Santiago de Compostela is unique, in that it brings together literally thousands of people from across the world, with one common purpose - to finish the Camino. I can't think of any other city I've been to where so many strangers are connected by one experience. Regardless of whether or not two individuals have met along the way, they can come together in Santiago and share stories, knowing that the other person gets exactly what they are talking about.
One of the (many) people I met this afternoon was a guy from South Wales, who is partially sighted and wanted to walk the Camino to prove (to himself?) that he could do something, despite his very limited vision. He was walking alone, but very much relied on the kindness of others to help him along the way. Practical things, like reading a map, were a huge challenge, and he told me often had to stand at an intersection just waiting for another walker to come along and take him in the right direction. He had also had problems with his feet, his boots being the wrong size, and almost had to stop walking, until he decided to solve the problem by cutting off the front of his boots - a genius idea in my book.
We had planned to visit the Pilgrim Museum this afternoon, but I'm so glad we didn't. I have learned so much more about the realities of pilgrimage from talking to complete strangers over a shared bottle of wine than I ever would in a museum. On Sunday, I felt like a bit of a fraud - coming in at the last, with no idea - but today I realised that was all in my head. It doesn't matter that I didn't walk the Camino, I was welcomed with open arms, and really made to feel like I belonged. We talked of all things, from rugby to politics, from food to spirituality, and it was intoxicating (in every sense of the word).
I had such a brilliant afternoon, and I'm so glad we spent it this way, but it was a bit of a relief when dad suggested we leave for a few hours before meeting up again for dinner. We spent some time wandering round the old town eating sorbet (the combination of lemon, raspberry and orange sorbets might just be my new favourite) and dipping into the odd 'tourist tat' shop - it's amazing how much stuff is on sale in an area where so many people arrive having survived for three, four, five, or more weeks with just what they carried on their backs. I do wonder whether this is a sustainable industry...
Before going back out for dinner, I went to the hotel for an hour or so to freshen up and slather myself in after-sun (it's not a holiday in Spain without the obligatory sunburn...) There's a vending machine in the lobby, and I quite fancied an iced tea, so I fed it the required amount of money and typed in the code. The can dropped down, as expected, and then it all went a little bit wrong. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but it was fairly embarrassing that the hotel owner had to come and rescue my arm from where it had become wedged, then show me how to use the machine without injuring myself...
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| The offending article... |
Malak Bistro is situated in a side street at the edge of the old town. It seems to be run by one man, who recognised us from Sunday. Despite being on his own, he was attentive, he shared a giggle, and he really made us feel welcome. The menu is a brilliant combination of Middle Eastern dishes, with a huge range of meat, vegetarian and vegan options, and the gluten free logo next to everything that is either GF or can be adapted. On Sunday, I had houmous followed by a vegetable curry, and today I replaced the main with roast vegetable skewers and cardamom rice. The flavours were incredible, the presentation was stunning, and I would definitely recommend it - it's not cheap, but it is so worth it.
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| Houmous |
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| Vegetable skewers with rice (served in a heart shape!) |
Today has been another brilliant but overwhelming day. I have questioned so many things, and been challenged on so many others, and as relaxing as it has been, I'm shattered. So, now to bed.
Buenos noches!
