The End of Conformity

I know all the rules, but the rules did not know me
Guaranteed.

Eddie Vedder

                              Wed 2 Oct  O Pedrouzo o Santiago de Compostella      20 km

So here it was, the day we had all been looking forward to for almost five weeks was upon us. And it started with a mixture of excitement and sadness. One final day of walking, only 20 km to go, and I still did not have a clue as to the real reason I had come on this journey. It reminded me a bit of Christmas as a kid, where the anticipation of opening those presents was at times almost unbearable, followed by the inevitable let down after the frenzy was over and everyone went back to their daily routine. So it goes on the Camino.

In five or six hours we would walk down the hill that leads into Santiago de Compostella. All the blisters and cuts and bruises wouldn’t matter any more, no more routine of the day on the trail, it would all end at the cathedral and we would walk away with our Compostellas. And that would be it. So how does one adjust to life as normal: no more freedom of the road; no more extended periods of quality reflecting time to think of nothing but the things you wanted to, or needed to; no more making new friends on a daily basis or seeing these people that had become a big part of your life in such a short time. It is going to be tough to get our heads around this.

The plan for the day was a simple one. We would gather outside the albergue at 5:00 am and the Valvo’s, Dooley Heath’s and Smith’s would head out, walk the last 20 km and enter the City of Santiago de Compostella together. The early start was to allow plenty of time to make the 12 noon mass at the Cathedral de Santiago. Seven hours should be plenty of time we thought, what could possibly go wrong? So at 5:15 we were all out the door and hit the road. Down 15 minutes.

The cold or flu or whatever it was that had started to show its head yesterday, hit full storm as I knew it would, taking the edge of what should have been an exciting start. With very little energy, and no morning coffee in me, the rest of the group quickly moved ahead, and I was struggling to keep up. The walk started  on municipal streets with a sharp uphill climb  as was often the case. The first three hours and more would be in the dark as sunrise was around 8:30. Nick and I had replaced the batteries last night in our headlamps, and Tom had purchased six flashlights and batteries so each of the family had their own. Will and Penny who had stayed in the previous town, "don't do early",  so they would meet us in Santiago.

By the time we found a place for breakfast it was the village of Lavacolla almost two and a half hours out . Unfortunately for me the cold was taking its toll, and I was having difficulty both staying awake and walking. Knowing we were pressed for time I told the others  I was heading out while they were finishing breakfast, figuring it wouldn't be long before catching me at my slow pace. The route from this point was almost entirely on or along the roadways, and the more steps I took, the better I started feeling, to the point where I hit my usual walking stride. After about an hour of walking none of the group had yet caught me, so I settled down for a a cafe con leche at a small little bar located exactly nine km from the cathedral in Santiago. It was pretty near half an hour later before the first one , Rosa, came strolling by. Over the next ten minutes the rest of the Dooley Heath's arrived, but there was no sign of Judy, Mary Lou or Nick, which was strange as they had left before the rest of them. After a few harried minutes trying to figure out what had happened Judy came around the corner. Apparently they had made a wrong turn shortly after leaving from breakfast and actually ended up heading back towards the previous village. Another hour lost.

So on we all pressed, making good time , in an effort to arrive for the noon hour mass. For Mary Lou and I it would be our only opportunity to see this as we would be on our way to the airport for London by that time tomorrow. The others would have another day or two. Much to my surprise, it was an incredibly emotional experience as we walked over the crest and had our first look at the city of Santiago de Compostella. Two thoughts struck me. First, I knew I would walk this again.  The second was best described by a line in Chris De Burg's ballad " Crusader" that says " and then the crusaders came over the mountain and they saw Jerusalem, they fell to their knees...". Oddly enough, this is exactly the way it felt to me. If the sight of this very holy Christian place could evoke such a powerful emotion in someone who doubted, it must be incredible for True believers. This journey has shown me over and over again the reason people have faith in a higher power,  and why religion has endured over the millennia. It is not for me, and I am not sure it ever will be, but I was now able to understand and respect why it is for so many others.

Once you reach the outskirts of the city, there is still a 4 km walk through the streets to get to the cathedral. With one hour to go that meant there was no time to spare and we soldiered on without a much needed respite. The city had a similar feel to the other large ones we had visited, such as Leon and Burgos, although the closer we got to the cathedral the older the buildings became. Guess that made sense. And at 11:50 ML and I arrived at the Cathedral de Santiago, proceeding directly in to find a place to watch the ceremony, while others would arrive over the next ten minutes. ML wanted to get as close as possible to the action so she  headed for the pews, while I found a great spot to sit on the stairs at the perimeter. We had heard a nun came out half hour before the service to instruct pilgrims on how and when to respond to the priest during the ceremony, and sure enough, there she was. It all looked very comical to me but most of the congregation was paying close attention and gave her due respect and attention.

Sitting on the edge of the church gave me an unrestricted view of the inside, and it struck me that the cathedrals in both Burgos and Leon were much more spectacular than this one. The Cathedral de Santiago seemed a little darker and dirtier, less ornate and smaller on the inside. Maybe yes, maybe no, but I was somewhat less impressed than with the others. However, this one had the big swinging Botafumero which was featured in a key scene in The Way. That in fact is what I came to see. This pot that gets filled with coal and incense is one of the largest "censers" in the world. It is made of brass and  bronze with a gold sheen, is swung on the end of a rope moved by a pulley system, and reaches heights of up to 21 m. It is not used in every ceremony, but we found out that it would be at the end of todays mass. Ten minutes into the ceremony I had had enough and quietly grabbed my backpack and headed out to the Pilgrims Office to get my compostella, figuring that there would be no lineups while all the other pilgrims were in church. Well I was right, got my Compostella in less than five minutes, and was back at mass in time to see the Botafumero in action. It was very impressive.

After the ceremony the rest of the crew headed out to get their compostellas. I was waiting for them outside when  I had this feeling that Will would be in the square in front of the Cathedral. He was aware that we had some dinner plans for the group that night, but did not know when, and Mary Lou  and Judy would have been crushed if he did not make it. So off I headed to the square and sure enough, there was Will and Penny. They had checked into the same albergue that the Freddy girls had, and he would touch base with them and let them know that the group was meeting at 7:00 PM to find a place for the last supper. Mary Lou, Nick, Judy and I headed out to check into the hotel and get some much needed sleep.

At 7 on cue the gathering began. As expected the group had grown substantially as our Camino family brought in people from their Camino family, who brought people from their Camino family and so on. In the end there would be roughly 40 people, some who I did not know, but most were people we had grown close to on this walk. After a quick phone call we located a restaurant that could handle the group on short notice. We lost a few people in the walk up the hill, in particular the Australian lady who shattered her leg, as they could not navigate the stairs. In the end, it was a fantastic dinner with family, full of good food , beer , wine, poetry and song. I sat beside my friend Martin from Ireland, and told him about my change of heart on walking this again. He said to me " Mitch, when I finished this walk last year I swore never again. But then I got home and couldn't stop thinking about it, and here I am. This place will get into your head." It already had.

As I  looked around the tables at this eclectic group of individuals, none of whom I had know five weeks ago, it dawned on me how this should be a metaphor for the way we live our lives. There were people of all sizes and shapes and ages, with different personalities and beliefs, from different countries and walks of life, completely at ease with each other, accepted for exactly who they were, in fact because of exactly who they were. Back in the real world most people spend their life trying to conform, and quite often in striving to be the same, push themselves further away from those of whom they are looking for approval. But this Camino family shows in fact the best way to be accepted, is to be yourself.  On the walk this morning Nick related a conversation he had with Tom. Nick wanted to know what Tom had learned on this journey. His answer was astounding:

" I have learned that people walk at their own pace, and the best way to honour their pace, is to walk at your own pace" 

Tom Dooley Heath   age 11