Santiago de Compostela is for seniors
MANILA, Philippines - There are 10 pilgrim routes to Santiago de Compostela, Spain. The most popular is the French route, which starts in Jean Pied de Port in the Pyrenees and runs through the northern part of Spain.
Last June, my husband Mitto, our favorite monsignor Manny Gabriel, and I walked the last 120 kilometers. This is the tail end of some 800-kilometer route, reserved for the wimps that we are. To receive a Pilgrim’s Certificate (in Latin, no less) one must walk a minimum of 100 kilometers and collect, at least, two stamps from the camino’s cafes, hostels, and churches along the way.
We started in Sarria and, for six consecutive days, walked through the Galician countryside at an average of 20 kilometers per day. Our group of 14 also included a 70-year-old couple from Alaska and four retired ladies from Singapore. They are childhood friends — one Catholic, one Christian, one Buddhist, and one who called herself an agnostic — who decided to travel together for the first time.
For senior pelegrinos or pilgrims like ourselves, the walk was not easy, but quite doable. We were advised to walk at our own pace, to find a comfortable rhythm to manage the mountain trails’ ascents and descents. Our walking sticks provided the stability on stony roads, especially late in the afternoons when our feet felt numb. Our package included a bus that transported our bags from town to town and met us at strategic points along the camino, as insurance in case some of us needed a ride. I am proud to say that everyone in our group walked most, if not all, of the way.
Walking the Camino is not necessarily a religious experience. The tranquility of the surroundings, though, heightens one’s appreciation of life as it unfolds day to day.
As the road is, so is life. It has peaks and valleys; the rain falls, the sun shines; it is rough , muddy, sandy, paved. One is literally on the ground, hearing the rocks crunch afoot, sometimes slipping on moss-covered rocks.
The smell of pine and eucalyptus trees and cow dung is part of the breathing experience. Ferns and flowers vie for attention with their varied colors, all at eye level. Streams make soothing music as they flow through. The mountains of Galicia provide a panoramic view of the countryside.
“Hola! Buencamino!†This is the greeting of every pilgrim as they pass each other on foot, on a bicycle, or on a horse. Pilgrims follow the ubiquitous yellow arrows, which are painted on rocks, tree trunks, farm walls and asphalt roads, guiding them towards the direction of Compostela. Some walk fast, some trudge along, some don’t make it at all. (That is why there are many crosses along the trail.)
A pilgrim walks with many other pilgrims, but a pilgrim must do the walk on his own. Partners and friends can only provide support and conversation, but when the trail does a 45 degree climb, it is actually very hard to be chatty.
We each carry a backpack, but it is easier to walk if the backpack is light. It is best to discard the unnecessary. There is no need for too many clothes while on the camino — no one really cares how you look. Every rural dwelling provides inexpensive laundry service.
It is interesting to note that we appreciated the simple things—bananas for potassium much-needed for walking, and a warm shower at the end of a long, dusty day.
Positions, degrees, wealth mean nothing. Everyone is equal on the trail.
Everyone just wants to reach Compostela and the Cathedral of St. James.
On the sixth day, we reached our goal and walked through the grand Praza de Obadoiro, where all the routes converge. For centuries, thousands of pilgrims have walked through this plaza, exhausted, sick with the plague, but undoubtedly victorious and proud to have made it.
The Pilgrim’s Mass at 12 noon was the culmination of the week’s physical activity. Monsignor Manny concelebrated the Mass. We were so proud, since they announced that there were Pinoy pilgrims present.
The priests each placed incense inside the gigantic batofumeiro (incense burner), symbolizing that all of the prayers and aspirations of the pilgrims are lifted to heaven. As it swung across the length of the apse and to the ceiling of the basilica, the smoke filled the church with its sweet smell and the organ music rose to a dramatic crescendo, I felt that all the sweat, the muscle pain, the dead toenails were all worth the trouble.
