My 800-Kilometre Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostelo
By MARIE BRUCE
VANCOUVER - I remember when I first heard about the ancient pilgrimage walk to Santiago de Compostelo in Northern Spain and instantly put it on my wish list of travel plans.
MARIE BRUCE on her pilgrimage walk over the Pyrenees.
 |
There is a belief that the bones of St. James the Apostle were discovered in Northern Spain and stories of miracles soon reached all over medieval Europe. As the word spread, a network of trails began and all roads led to Santiago de Compostelo.
The timing was right for 2004, and I resolved that this is how I wanted to celebrate my sixtieth year. The Way of St. James to Santiago de Compostelo is filled with history, art, architecture, myths and legends, a good guide book is essential.
I chose the French way from St. Jean Pied de Port in the Pyrenees, and I left Vancouver in early September to walk into the autumn. If all went well, I estimated it would take me about five weeks to walk the 800 kilometres.
The “Camino,” which means walk or pathway, follows a route along Northern Spain and touches on Navarre, Aragon, Riojo, Leon, Asturias, to reach the eventual goal of Santiago de Compostelo in Galicia.
I tried out several backpacks and luckily I already owned a pair of fairly new comfortable hiking boots. Weight is a huge factor and even when I cut down to the bare essentials, I still felt my pack was too heavy. I was traveling alone and the closer it came to my departure, the more apprehensive I became, and for good reason, since I don’t speak a word of either French or Spanish.
ALONG HER JOURNEY Marie Bruce passed many women working in the fields and tending their animals.
 |
The train shuffled out of Bayonne in the Basque region of France and I heaved my backpack up on the rack with the help of another passenger. I was finally on my way. It was a huge relief that all the plane, bus and train connections I researched in Vancouver were working out as planned.
From the train station at St. Jean Pied de Port, it was a steady uphill walk through the bustling town to the pilgrim’s office, where I registered as a pilgrim to get my “credential,” the official pilgrim’s passport.
The credential has to be stamped by churches and refuges along the walk and entitled me to stay as an authentic pilgrim. On completion of the pilgrimage, the stamped credential is examined by the cathedral authorities in Santiago, and if they are satisfied that the pilgrimage requirements are met, they issue the Compostelo.
For medieval pilgrims, the Compostelo (which is a document written in Latin) offered them a plenary indulgence and a much shortened time in purgatory. It was a very sought after document in ancient times and often bartered for money. Today’s pilgrims treasure the document too, as proof of their pilgrimage. The pilgrimage grows in popularity every year, and last year over 75,000 pilgrims received their Compostelo.
The scallop shell has been the symbol of the pilgrimage for over 1,000 years and the Camino, which is an UNESCO World Heritage site, has been walked by such notables as Francis of Assisi and in recent times Shirley MacLaine.
I tied a scallop shell on my pack and checked into a hostel for the night. I was warned by the lady in the pilgrim office that the walk route Napoleon up over the pass was challenging and difficult. I decided to take two days to walk over the Pyrenees and spent the first night in the new refugio at the top of the pass.
I was also hoping to walk myself fit in easy stages. The scenery along this route is stunning, dotted with farms and animals, with panoramic views of the Pyrenees. I had never seen so many eagles and vultures and loved the sound of the animal bells and the air and freedom of the trail. It is a steady uphill hike but easy to follow and I had the company of fellow pilgrims from all over the world.
The first day’s walking is a test on the boots and pack and is also one of the hardest days of the whole pilgrimage. It is not uncommon for pilgrims to stumble down to Roscesvalles a physical wreck from the weight of the pack and the constant pressure of the boots.
I was lucky, so far, so good, however, my pack was definitely too heavy. Next morning I headed downhill to Roncesvalles, a tiny hamlet with a Twelfth Century abbey and church which has been a very important stopping place for pilgrims through the ages.
I attended the Pilgrims Mass at 8 PM, where each person is invited up to the front of the church for a special blessing. Prayers are said to protect us on our journey, so that we can reach Santiago full of courage and return home with joy. I found the mass and blessing very emotional and a fitting start to the pilgrimage.
I couldn’t dwell on the distance in the beginning as each day is so challenging. It was just survival. Once on the trail my enthusiasm never left me, despite snoring (everyone snores), and lumpy mattresses, and sometimes only one bathroom shared by 50 pilgrims.
I was always ready to jump up and get going in the mornings. Stuffing my sleeping bag into its tiny sack was my first challenge of the day, then there was the constant packing and repacking of my backpack. It was crucial to remember to fill water bottles and to pick up the dry laundry from the clothes line.
There is also the daily search for food, laundry, the soaking of exhausted feet, and grabbing a few minutes on a computer to stay in touch with home and family. The scallop-shaped yellow and blue Camino signs directed me along, and the beautiful Spanish countryside and small villages provided constant interest.
I amazed myself and just kept roaring ahead, doing my 20-25-30 kilometres a day, unscathed but often tired. I walked about 15 kilometres in the early morning guided by my headlamp before sunrise and tried to get most of my walking done before the sun became too hot. I was always on the look-out for a village with an open bar. Coffee and bread never tasted so good.
After my morning stop, I tackled the remaining 10 kilometres leisurely, often stopping to visit churches and landmarks along the way. I was walking in September/October and was blessed with perfect weather, very hot in the afternoons but cool and invigorating in the early mornings.
There is a constant march of pilgrims and I had a network of friends and heard reports about their progress and the state of their feet. I was always astonished by the courage and fortitude of my fellow travelers. I also received many acts of kindness and words of encouragement from the local people and made a note to remember them when I reached the cathedral of Santiago.
Pilgrims today do the Camino for spiritual renewal or religious reasons, or to mark some milestone in their lives. I met people from all over the world, from every walk of life and every age. We all asked each other the same question, “why are you walking the Camino?” And the answers were as varied as the people but always sincere and inspiring.
It is hard to describe the absolute joy and happiness I felt when we reached the cathedral in Santiago. The square was thronged with people but were still there reunions with old friends. We finally reached the pilgrims office and waited to get our Compostelo and arranged to meet for a celebration dinner that evening.
We squeezed into the church for the 12 Noon Pilgrims Mass and stared around us in wonder. Weary pilgrims unused to such crowds, leaned against the pillars as there were no seats left.
I’ve read that medieval pilgrims were often overcome by the whole experience of the Pilgrim Mass. The pomp and ceremony, the crowds, and the awesome sight of the Botafumeiro swinging back and forth on ropes pulled by six strong men, to the crashing sound of the organ.
I think Twenty-First Century pilgrims are similarly affected, and most of us felt changed in one way or another. We paid our respects to St. James’ tomb and embraced the Thirteenth Century statue and waited in turn to put our right hand in the center of the column of the Tree of Jesse to give thanks for our safe arrival.
The pilgrimage was over, we arrived at our destination unscathed. For me the experience was so rewarding that I would choose never to repeat it, but I will be forever grateful that I had the opportunity to do it in my sixtieth year.
*
Marie Bruce is originally from Kilcock, County Kildare in Ireland. She has lived in Vancouver for the past 35 years and she and her husband George have three grown children.
*
For more information about the Camino, write to the Spanish Tourist Office, 2 Bloor St. West - 34th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M4W 3E2. [References: Walking the Camino de Santiago Davis & Cole (Vancouver authors). A Pilgrims Guide to the Camino John Brierley.]
|