Past the Halfway Mark

Arrived Sunday 4/22 in the beautiful city of Leon, which means I have walked about 295 miles in 23 days. Still feeling “Camino strong” & have no injuries or blisters. I am now just past the halfway mark on this Camino. (sign is in km)

Entering Leon, as seen from the Camino: 

Leon is famous for (surprise) yet another stunning, massive, exquisitely and intricately constructed 13th century Gothic cathedral. Fortunately I took pictures of the Cathedral last year (see below), because it’s obscured by scaffolding this year. 

This massive cathedral features close to 20,000 square feet of stained glass windows. (Once again, props to those amazing medieval craftsmen!) 

 Leon was founded as a Roman military base in the first century C.E. The cathedral was built on the site of ancient Roman baths (It never fails to amaze me how old things are here in Europe, and how visible its history . . . in California, “old” means “built before 1900.”) In the early middle ages, Leon was the richest and most powerful city in Christian Spain, before it was decimated by the Black Death (plague) starting in 1350. Afterwards, it drifted into obscurity until the arrival of the railroads in the mid-19th century. Today Leon is a busy industrial center with a population of about 130,000. (fun facts courtesy of my Camino guidebook)

What I love about these mid-size Spanish cities is that they have retained their original medieval city centers, and in some you can even see remnants of the original, ancient city walls. For the most part, the old parts of town are car-free zones, because the ancient winding streets are too narrow for cars. I love the idea that the highly irregular, spider-webby street layout in these ancient cities has remained largely unchanged for hundreds, if not perhaps thousands, of years. 

In my last post, I was struggling with rain, cold, and Camino mud. I’m happy to report the weather finally warmed up last week — bringing more typical moderate spring temps & sunshine, and drying out the Camino trail. I do miss the cooler temps, but not the mud!

This central section of the Camino is known as the meseta (plateau). The meseta is very flat, has few shade trees, and much of the Camino here follows arrow-straight roads that were originally laid out by the Romans over 2,000 years ago. Compared to the first and final sections of the Camino, which wind through beautiful mountains, rolling hills, and picturesque farmland, the flat, dry, and sometimes industrial meseta is pretty boring. There are fewer towns here, and a lot of the Camino goes right alongside the highway. Some peregrinos choose to skip the meseta because it is notoriously dull, and instead will take a bus or taxi to Leon. 

However, some say the meseta can be the most powerful part of the Camino experience, as the lack of visual distractions encourages deeper introspection. Walking is walking, regardless of scenery, and most peregrinos are here to walk the whole Camino. Also, I think the boring parts make you appreciate the lovelier parts that much more. I recall last year at one of the hostels, just before the meseta, as we were all preparing to leave in the morning, the very stern German hospitalera loudly instructed: “Don’t skip the meseta! Very powerful what it can churn up. And pay attention to your dreams!”

(It is pretty interesting to observe what floats through your brain, and what sinks, after you have been removed from your familiar daily routine and environment for weeks on end.) 

Here is an altitude map, in meters, of the entire Camino Frances. The meseta is that flattish middle section:

Just before the meseta:

It is interesting to travel this same route again. Some parts I remember very distinctly — I can recall exactly which bench I took a snack or rest break on, where I busted out the phone to take a picture, and each cafe where I stopped for an iced tea and/or pincho (slice of Spanish omelette) when I was here last year. Other parts, even entire villages, are completely unfamiliar, as if I’ve never seen them before — which is impossible, as I didn’t skip any sections. I finally figured out that the parts I don’t recall are sections where I was deeply engrossed in conversation with another pilgrim (I can get very tunnel-visiony sometimes)!

I’ve met dozens of pilgrims and heard so many poignant stories. As I’ve mentioned, part of the magic of the Camino is how readily total strangers will open their hearts to one another. 

At a communal dinner the other night I met Leo, a lawyer from Manitoba, Canada, age 73, who is walking the Camino to carry his wife’s ashes to the Atlantic. Last year he and his wife began the Camino together in St. Jean Pied-de-Port. A few days in, she had severe pain and had to seek medical help in Pamplona. Turned out she had stomach cancer, so they had to abort their Camino, and she passed away four months later. She made Leo promise he would finish the Camino after she was gone. 

I’ve met many women who (like me) have children grown and gone, and who have come to the Camino to reflect on what to do with their lives & energy now that the hands-on part of the mothering journey is over.

I’ve met many people who (like me) are between job situations, who have come to the Camino to seek clarity and perhaps some clues about which direction to go next. 

I’ve met many people who (like me) are looking to deepen their connection to Spirit, in whatever form it might take, and who are willing to talk honestly and for hours about their spiritual journeys. 

I’ve met many people who (like me) do not hesitate to share whatever food, water, equipment, songs, or moral support they have with a fellow pilgrim in need. The spirit of generosity on the Camino is truly remarkable, and unlike any other place I’ve ever visited. 

It is such a joy to witness the kindness of locals right alongside the Camino. One day I encountered two girls who were giving away paper Camino arrows they had drawn, with small magnets glued on the back.

Another day, an anonymous Camino angel left a crate of bottled water with a donativo (honor system) tray, right next to the trail.

One of the highlights of this Camino was a stay at a hostel in Carrión de Los Condes run by the Catholic nuns of the Order of St. Augustine. The four nuns, like we pilgrims, came from all different parts of the globe, and arranged a welcoming ceremony for the 30 or so pilgrims who were staying in the hostel that night. The German nun translated (to English) for the other three nuns. First they asked us to share briefly where we were from, and why we were doing the Camino. Reasons ranged from a desire for challenge and exercise, to the more esoteric or spiritual. For those who spoke no English, you could totally feel their emotion and get the gist of why they were here — it was very moving, and a testament to the fact that language is no barrier when we speak from the heart. 

Then the nuns passed around lyric sheets and serenaded us with singing and guitar. I didn’t recognize anything except “When The Saints Go Marching In,” but I was very touched by their final song, sung in Spanish but translated on the lyric sheet:

Nadie fue ayer, ni va hoy, ni ira manana 

Hacia Dios en este mismo camino que yo voy

Para cada hombre guarda un rayo nuevo el luz del sol...

Y un camino especial a Dios.

(No one went yesterday, nor goes today, nor will go tomorrow 

Towards God in this same way that I go

For every man the sun has a new ray of light...  

And a unique way to God.)

Afterwards, one of the nuns went around the room, touching our heads as she blessed each of us individually. A second nun handed each of us a small paper star which  had been colored with crayons. The German nun explained that each star had been made by the nuns for us, with a special intention and prayer for a safe Camino, and to remind us to keep the light of God and the spirit of the Camino in our hearts. 

You don’t have to be Catholic, or even Christian, to appreciate the unconditional love behind this all-embracing gesture on the part of these lovely and kind nuns. The faithful and the indifferent were welcomed and blessed with the same warmth and love. I was very deeply touched. 

And the journey continues.