alansykes
Veteran Member
- Time of past OR future Camino
- Except the Francés
At some point this week, last week or next, depending on how you define it, I will have spent 365 days of my life on the camino.
Not what I expected when I set out on a one off pilgrimage in memory of my mother during the last Holy Year.
In that time I've stayed in about 250 cities, towns and villages of Spain - significant duplication due to usually finishing using some or most of the Sanabrés. I've walked through 33 of Spain's provinces, 10 of its autonomous regions, I don't know how many of its World Heritage Sites, and National and Natural Parks, and also seen uncountable churches, mostly from the outside only.
I've probably stayed in 100-odd albergues, some several times - A Laxe's has the record with 6, not because I particularly like it, but because it's ideally placed 2 days from Santiago. Oseira Monastery comes second with 4, and several are on 3. Albergues have come in various forms, including many former schools, an Inquisition prison, three bullrings, above a funeral parlour, in 3-4 ayuntamientos, in a bus station, in several railway stations, medical centres, parish halls, priests' houses, convents, a palace, a former slaughterhouse, attached to various churches, in monasteries, sports centres, private houses and specially built complexes. I've also stayed in dozens of private hotels, hostals, pensións etc, including many truck stops and a few castles and mostly perfectly fine, although a few run by graduates of the Norman Bates School of Hospitality.
I've been accused of being Dutch, Italian, German and French, but almost never English, and never American.
I've walked for 40 days without a drop of rain, and been soaked to the skin many times. I've been hot and bothered and dusty and thirsty. I've had mild frost bite and once, in thick freezing fog, the water in my bottle froze as I was walking.
At an average of ~3 a day, I must also have visited well over a thousand bars, cafés and restaurants, mostly welcoming to indifferent, a tiny few almost actively hostile (almost invariably those where the landlord was promoting smoking). I've been shortchanged and I've been not allowed to pay because it was St George's day/the landlord liked pilgrims/somebody at the bar picked up my tab. I've had great meals at tiny prices and some not so good ones at bigger costs, and also found myself in the middle of public feasts, with free food and drink being forced on me. I've been invited into complete strangers' houses for meals, and been told that a bar that was visibly still serving food was cerrau.
I've met very many delightful hospitaler@s, some professional, some voluntary, including tourism officers, town hall clerks, mayors, policemen, a crown prosecutor, a local doctor, teachers, barkeepers, monks, nuns and priests. And a very few who clearly hated their profession and the pilgrims it entailed dealing with.
I've learned much more about Spain's literature, music, language, architecture, landscape, culture and history, and come to love (almost) all of it much more, and only scratched the surface. I've also learned a lot more about my three relations who came out here to fight, and in one case die, in 1936.
If there is a better way of getting to see and know a different Spain, then I probably haven't got enough time or energy left to find it out.
Adelante.
Not what I expected when I set out on a one off pilgrimage in memory of my mother during the last Holy Year.
In that time I've stayed in about 250 cities, towns and villages of Spain - significant duplication due to usually finishing using some or most of the Sanabrés. I've walked through 33 of Spain's provinces, 10 of its autonomous regions, I don't know how many of its World Heritage Sites, and National and Natural Parks, and also seen uncountable churches, mostly from the outside only.
I've probably stayed in 100-odd albergues, some several times - A Laxe's has the record with 6, not because I particularly like it, but because it's ideally placed 2 days from Santiago. Oseira Monastery comes second with 4, and several are on 3. Albergues have come in various forms, including many former schools, an Inquisition prison, three bullrings, above a funeral parlour, in 3-4 ayuntamientos, in a bus station, in several railway stations, medical centres, parish halls, priests' houses, convents, a palace, a former slaughterhouse, attached to various churches, in monasteries, sports centres, private houses and specially built complexes. I've also stayed in dozens of private hotels, hostals, pensións etc, including many truck stops and a few castles and mostly perfectly fine, although a few run by graduates of the Norman Bates School of Hospitality.
I've been accused of being Dutch, Italian, German and French, but almost never English, and never American.
I've walked for 40 days without a drop of rain, and been soaked to the skin many times. I've been hot and bothered and dusty and thirsty. I've had mild frost bite and once, in thick freezing fog, the water in my bottle froze as I was walking.
At an average of ~3 a day, I must also have visited well over a thousand bars, cafés and restaurants, mostly welcoming to indifferent, a tiny few almost actively hostile (almost invariably those where the landlord was promoting smoking). I've been shortchanged and I've been not allowed to pay because it was St George's day/the landlord liked pilgrims/somebody at the bar picked up my tab. I've had great meals at tiny prices and some not so good ones at bigger costs, and also found myself in the middle of public feasts, with free food and drink being forced on me. I've been invited into complete strangers' houses for meals, and been told that a bar that was visibly still serving food was cerrau.
I've met very many delightful hospitaler@s, some professional, some voluntary, including tourism officers, town hall clerks, mayors, policemen, a crown prosecutor, a local doctor, teachers, barkeepers, monks, nuns and priests. And a very few who clearly hated their profession and the pilgrims it entailed dealing with.
I've learned much more about Spain's literature, music, language, architecture, landscape, culture and history, and come to love (almost) all of it much more, and only scratched the surface. I've also learned a lot more about my three relations who came out here to fight, and in one case die, in 1936.
If there is a better way of getting to see and know a different Spain, then I probably haven't got enough time or energy left to find it out.
Adelante.
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