Joining The Pilgrimage

stacy: I was drinking a Starbucks Americano Misto when I decided to do a 1000 kilometre Pilgrimage in Spain. Sitting across from me was Juli, whom I’d met at a writing conference in Paris about a year and a half prior. We’d just reconnected in our mutual hometown of Calgary, AB. Somehow amongst conversation of catching up on each other lives since the conference, she posed the question of whether I had ever considered walking the Camino de Santiago. Having spent time at a Spanish language school in Barcelona, and traveling the Mediterranean Coast of Spain a few years back I had heard stories of the Camino, or the way of St. James, a 1000 year old pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, Galicia, in the Northwest corner of Spain. Legend has it that the remains of St. James were transported by boat from Jerusalem and buried on the site of what is now the city of Santiago de Compostela. Any kind of personal pilgrimage to that site is thought to earn both miracles and plenary indulgence (remission from past sins according to the catholic faith). Juli said she wanted to begin in Seville and walk north to Santiago. I’d always wanted to go to Seville. And it sounded like an adventure. Before I’d finished my Americano Misto that afternoon, I was in. I was walking the Camino de Santiago with Juli.

I wouldn’t consider myself the ‘hiking’ type, and judging by the expressions on the faces of the few people I began telling I was doing this, I gathered that others don’t see me as the outdoorsy type either. I’m a writer by night, a hairstylist by day. I consider going out for tapas and wine with girlfriends a ‘hobby.’ I’m more comfortable in heels than runners. I’m also more comfortable walking a shopping mall than I am in the great outdoors. The first time I walked into the outdoor camping store in downtown Calgary to buy hiking boots and a sleeping bag for the Camino I was so overwhelmed and intimidated (not to mention incredibly hungover, but that’s irrelevant), I left empty handed. So back to the question of why, why did this little trek in Spain appeal to me immediately? In researching the Camino I found a plethora of resources. Blogs. Websites. Books. Youtube. The recent Martin Sheen movie called ‘The Way.’ I even found an app for my iphone specifically designed for our route, the Via De La Plata. I knew basic temperatures we’d face along the route, average kilometres between towns, which parts were more treacherous, more scenic, or more boring than others. I’d learned that the path we’d chosen was heavily littered with Roman Ruins, once the main road in which connected Astorga in the north to Seville to the south. And other fun facts, like that Hannibal’s armies and his elephants must have passed along it. But the one question asked by many that I’d been unable to answer remained. The question of why. Why walk a 1000 kilometer pilgrimage in Spain?

One night over a glass of Spanish Rioja and countless skinny menthols, I decided to look up quotes on traveling to see if I could find some inspiration as to the reasons why we travel. I came across too many to mention that resonated and began to help me find validation as to why I travel. One of my favourites was by Miriam Beard: “Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” Traveling, no matter the distance from home or the length of the trip, has never failed to open my mind to new ideas, not only about the world but about myself. A very wise woman and dear friend of mine once explained traveling as forcing you to live consciously, out of habit. As though a mirror is held up to you and you are forced to see yourself, your true self, just a little clearer. What better way to do that than a 1000 kilometre pilgrimage? A break. Not only to be disconnected sans distractions from daily life to think and reflect, but to be in the energy of those doing the same. That, and Spanish ham. Manchego cheese. Vino tinto. Vino blanco. And, lest we forget, the fabulous Spanish sparkling wine, cava. A chance to practice my Spanish. Another quote that resonated with me that night was by the late Galician poet Rosalia de Castro: “I see my path, but I don’t know where it leads. Not knowing where I’m going is what inspires me to travel it.” And I realized that the reason I struggled so much with answering the question why was that I didn’t fully know why yet. I just knew I needed to go. Why do we need justified reasons for doing what we feel inspired to do in life? And so, in short, I decided to revert back to my initial reaction when Juli asked if I would consider joining her on the Camino. I’ve always wanted to go to Seville, and it sounded like an adventure. On a side note, upon further reading on the Galician poet mentioned prior, Rosalia de Castro, I came across another quote of hers: “After God, long live wine.” Well said, Rosalia. I think I would have liked this woman.