Camino magic
A charming man from the Netherlands operated a tiny tienda next to the albergue in Larrasoaña, my third stop on the Camino Frances. I ordered a café con leche at his place and listened, for the better part of an hour, to his stories. He had walked the Camino thirteen times, he told me. His stories had the air being oft-told, so it is possible that, over time, he had embroidered a bit. It seemed he had created a legend, modest though it was, around himself.
Nevertheless, I listened with great curiosity because I could not imagine why, with all the places in the world to explore, with all the extraordinary hikes through extraordinary landscapes, this guy would choose to walk the same 490 miles thirteen times. As I walked on, I met other repeat Camino pilgrims. Or heard first-timers vow they would return.
It was a mystery to me, this urge to repeat, this do-over mentality. Oh yes, the countryside was extraordinary as the path meandered across undulating plains, roamed through olive groves and vineyards, ventured across both arid flatlands and green rolling hills; as it traversed the cobblestone Calle Major of tiny villages both quaint and (no other way to say this) sorry-ass. The experience was extraordinary, a potent and often unexpected ping-ponging between daily grind and dazzling revelation. But do it again? And again?
Now more than three months since I returned from my trek, I think I understand. I think it is because those Camino lessons in simplicity, focus and clarity, in what matters and what doesn’t, in the camaraderie of souls, in delighting in the ebb and flow of life, those lessons learned while walking, those lessons you told yourself you’d never forget…they are damned hard to hold on to.
I remember thinking, so very many nights, sleeping between paper sheets or in a bunkbed or in a room of snorers “I’ll never take my quiet bedroom with my big bed and my flannel sheets for granted.” And then I did. Within days. ”I’ll never take an evening in front of the fire reading a book for granted.” And then I did. “I’ll never forget that you can be independent and interdependent simultaneously, that receiving help and being helpless are not at all the same, that things make sense when you stop trying so hard to make them make sense.” How to hold onto all this?
I think people walk again and again to recapture these moments, to relearn the lessons, to sink back into the magic. That’s what I am attempting with my writing.
8 comments
I didn’t get the repeat thing at first either. Or rather, I went into it thinking I understood the urge to do multiple caminos (it’s going to be so awesome walking from town to town eating great food and having the time and space to think and maybe even be spiritual!) and by the time I was done I remember thinking, “I don’t know that I need to do another one.” But now, 3+ months after finishing, I find myself, like you, taking hot showers, comfortable beds, and multiple clothing choices for granted. And I find myself starting to imagine when and where the next one will be.
I remember us talking about a “repeat” in terms of wine-tasting and maybe a day in Astorga or a sidetrip to a monastery. How callow we were!! I mean, all that sounds good. But it is the CLARITY and FOCUS. Oh man.
Lauren, in my view, as age (and wisdom?) marches us forward, simplicity and clarity rise to the top of our personal portfolios. I envy your inaugural march — I bet the Camino is calling out to you again.
The Camino, that camino, is not calling out to me. I don’t have plans to be a repeater. But I do hunger for another “time out of time” experience that boils life down to its essentials.
So insightful! Even without Camino memories, I find it important to “remind” myself of lessons I’ve learned and truths I’ve found. Still amazing that even with such purposeful intentions, those same thoughts can tend to dissipate and fade with time. Vigilance!
My sense is that the cliché, “Life lessons,” means you have to learn and relearn them your whole life.
Similarly to your warm flannel sheet appreciation, I’ve experienced different times, lifestyles and or adventures without heat… or electricity or … hot running water out of the faucet. And time and time again I have thought “I’ll never take these for granted… but alas, I do.
Oh yes! Hot running water from a faucet. I guess we are not meant to hold on to these moments. But we can still revisit and appreciate.
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