I think I may be something of an outlier - I was appalled on arrival to Santiago. The Cathedral itself was hidden behind scaffolding and the square in front of it was busy with newly arrived and arriving Pilgrims in various states of celebration. It was also busy with salespeople offering services ranging from packing and shipping my bike to helping me achieve a spiritual or mental calmness that I had seemingly failed to achieve. I was particularly appalled by all the souvenir tat in shop after shop after shop.
I visited the Cathedral and was moved by the sight of confessions available in so many different languages for Pilgrims but shocked at the behaviour of some of the people within the walls. I queued for my Compostela and was amused at the whinging, moaning and complaining of others in the queue. Weeks to walk to Santiago and a few minutes of waiting seemed intolerable. And I was so grateful that I wasn't finishing here. The destination would have been nothing in comparison to the journey.
Santiago wasn't my final destination but a half way point. I still had to cycle home.
In hindsight, I had the benefit of a Camino in three distinct parts. While I started the Camino at my front door (a local Trappist Monastery being my first "sello"), I made my own way to Paris, then to the coast to follow the sea before starting "My Camino" in SJPP. After Santiago, I had a week exploring the west coast with a friend, a return to Santiago for a Compostela then a long journey home, following my nose. On the way back, camping, I got to see Spain away from the Pilgrim Lifestyle. I wasn't awoken predawn nor had to be in bed early. I met different kinds of travellers and ate in places that rarely saw a Pilgrim.
Later that year, on a cold winter night I was playing with Google maps and looking to see where my "Camino distance" of some 6-6500 km would bring me. I was genuinely shocked to discover that I could cycle from my front door to Russia! Or a full exploration of Greece and Turkey! All places I've wanted to visit since I was a kid. Or across the USA. Or even Canada!
Somewhere in the back of my mind the wheels were crunching and prioritising the things that I took from my Camino. Far and above everything else was the humanity of the experience.
Joining the "virgin" pilgrims in SJPP and the magic in the air is something I hope to have with me always.
Meeting the huge variety of people along the way, local and pilgrim, the sheer diversity of folk and the immense goodwill and kindness of so many locals. Meeting people who struggled silently with infirmity or injury and others who complained loudly and continuously at the slightest inconvenience. The generosity of some pilgrims and the sheer petty-minded selfishness of others.
The chance, random encounters at a café or on the side of the road, the chance to exchange words of encouragement, or where language was an issue, gestures of encouragement, was something of a shock. The power in a smile. In a nod. It was educational and it prompted the question of "why here?". What's so special about this route?
I came to the conclusion that it wasn't the route. It was me. It was how I carried myself, how I perceived things, how I processed things and how I projected myself to others.
The easiest way to get someone to smile at you? Give them a smile! The easiest way to strike up a conversation with a stranger? Make yourself open to it. The best way to enjoy food or a cold glass of water? Arrive hungry and thirsty.
So when I got home I changed some things. Enough became enough. More than enough was excess and unnecessary. I travelled on my bike in the same Camino manner - haphazardly and less planned, responding to what was all around me as opposed to what I thought would be.
I didn't just survive, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I played the hapless traveller only a few kms from my front door and was treated as such, soaking up kindnesses. I greeted fellow travellers and was recognised in return. I explored places I'd seen many times with new eyes and saw things in a way I'd never seen before.
They were my next Caminos. An overnight trip here, a weekend there. Sleeping in a tent, cooking on a stove. The destination in my mind far more important than a destination on a map.
I have since travelled quite a ways on my bike, often in places where the advice is not to travel. It hasn't always been easy or safe but it has been incredibly rewarding with a lot of what the Camino offered me back then - the chance to meet people from different parts of the world, learn of their lives, their hopes and fears, to bond and connect and gain an understanding of the common threads that bind us all together. One thing that has pierced me is just how many people in parts of the world would give almost anything to complete a Camino to Santiago. Those of us who have are incredibly fortunate.
The long distance traveller, (or the one who travels as such) to my way of thinking, is welcome in most places, whether there are yellow arrows pointing the way or not. Perhaps the Camino is not a route, it's a state of mind.
