This is sort of a "new thread" within the thread.... Cecelia commented in another post on cyclists on the Camino...and previously in this thread VinoTinto mentioned letting those Pilgrims "a pie" know when there are cyclists approaching...
Anyone who has completed the Camino can recall a wide variety of experiences, both good and bad. At the risk of sounding a bit like Pollyanna, I think I have chosen to block out the "bad" ones and hold on to the "good" ones. Or perhaps it is simply that the good far outweigh the bad.
At any rate, on my fourth day on the Camino, I got lost. The details are unimportant, let us just say that after stopping for lunch (we had already been walking about 6 hours) we set out form Lorca to complete the last 6 km to Estella. I stopped to retie my shoes and my companions got a few hundred mteres ahead of me. I could see them, so just continued following on... I did not know that they had gone wrong. We went up into the mountains and they disappeared but then I found them in the distance and followed on again...and that was the last time I saw them. The short version is that by the time I realized that I needed to go back, I had been wandering about 2 hours. It was 14h in the afternoon - the extreme heat of the day and I was low on water. I had intense blisters and was rapidly getting exhausted. I finally returned nearly to Lorca and spotted the blessed "flecha amarilla" that my companions had missed. At that point, I continued on my Way in the directon of Estella.
I had not seen another human being in about 5 hours. I was literally walking with my eye on a goal - a tree (if I can just get to there, I'll make it), a hill, a building. The sun was intense and there was not another Pilgrim in sight either in front of me or behind me. Vaguely, I heard the sound of a strange bird...and then again. I stopped in the middle of the narrow path to listen. And a voice behind me said, "Perdona". I turned around and there was an Italian cyclist whom I had caused to stop in the middle of the path. The strange "bird" was the sound of his bicycle bell trying to alert me to his presence. My face must have shown my joy at seeing him, he asked me if I were all right and I told him I had been lost and how happy I was to see him.... and I'll never forget his comment..."Well, you're very close now... it is only 6 km to Estella." Well, it felt like 600 km, but at least I had a distance, a real, do-able goal.
When I finally arrived in the albergue in Estella, I was truly, completely exhausted. I had been walking more than 12 hours and could barely put one foot in front of another. I went to my bed and while I was in the shower I heard such a ruckus out in the sleeping room! When I got out of the shower, to my extreme dismay a group of about 10 - 15 young men cyclists had arrived and were laughing, joking, and busily unpacking, repacking, showering, laundering...all the albergue stuff. I thought, "How will I ever sleep?"
As it turned out, when it came to lights out, they said not a word. They slept. And although they rose as early as I (5:30am) they were far quieter... their bags had already been repacked and so they did not need to "rustle, pack, search" and they did it all so silently as not to disturb any other Pilgrims in the room. They were up and gone within a few minutes and you barely heard a sound. I learned alot from them that morning.
And oh, by the way. While I was sitting in the bar in Estella having some food and a drink, a young man walked over to me and said hello. I replied, and he asked me how I was...that he was the cyclist whom I had met (read: blocked) on the path and he was happy to see that I had made it to Estella and was just inquiring as to how I was doing. So typical of the Camino...
So I decided early on (to try) not to judge other Pilgrims. It was a personal choice not to begrudge anyone his bed nor to question his motives. As I may have mentioned before, I never shared my own motives with any of my companions on the Camino. Although I pretended I was "out for a walk", that was certainly not the case - but I wasn't prepared to discuss it.
I found it funny and charming to have 15 cyclists fly by calling, "Hola, Buenos DĂas, Animo, Ultreia, Vamos, Anda, Buen Camino!" one after the other. And often I was walking alone along a road and they would always salute, call out encouragement, or just smile as they passed by. Sure, there were the rare few who weren't so pleasant, but who knows what problems they may have been having? Perhaps like in a previous post, the brakes failed? Or, I often thought as my blistered feet hurt so much....I could have been on a bici... and think about
those blisters...I wouldn't be smiling either!
Buen Camino,