Who is, what is a true pilgrim?

The cowgirl

"I sold my cattle and just came here", the woman tells me, while walking at a speed I can hardly keep up with. And she spoke about the blisters she has! It surely made me believe she was able to run a farm in Northern Canada on her own. "It was minus 20 just before I left. Maybe I should go and live in a warmer place, I have time to think about it now."

The surfer

The old hotel owner sits down and starts talking to me. It's not easy to follow his rapid Spanish. He points at a Japanese boy, surfing the net and typing on his cellphone: "That's not a true pilgrim. He's not really here." This man in his late seventies has walked the Camino many times. Meanwhile he has run a flourishing family business, offering all sorts of accommodation for poor and rich pilgrims. He is very dedicated to the Camino spirit. Is it true what he says?

Two out of numerous inspiring encounters with other walkers from all over the world.

Is it not possible to be a true pilgrim if you never walk alone, have your luggage transported, stay in hotels, when you cycle, and so on. Opinions that are frequently heard along the Camino (I'm not free of these sort of thoughts either!). But what could you know about someone's deeper thoughts if you don't look them in the eyes properly, and listen?

Finding a new old way

I am sitting on a bench, just off the Camino. Riego de Ambros in the mountainous area before Ponferrada. The bar I knew here is closed and I think about what to do. A car parks next to my bench. Two men step out of it. Right away there is a pleasant conversation. 
Chema and Manuel are waiting for their group of kids, they will walk to Molaniseca, following an old footpath. I'm all ears. We talk about the Camino. Then the group arrives. Chema asks me to walk with them. But first I have to ask the group permission. Which they grant me.

A half overgrown path leads us out of the village. The kids walk fast, they're often out of sight. Chema stops now and then to share about his observations in nature. Soon I am learning that this group of 23, aged from 7 to 17, is on a path, meant to learn about yourself. Full of rituals, and attention for anyone in the group.

It is a beautiful remote valley, and suddenly I miss something. In an impulse I ask the children to be silent and listen. And then... we hear the water of a nearby creek. The wind in the trees. The birds singing abundantly. Chema takes over and lets them walk in silence. 

In the quiet valley we approach an overhanging rock. Turn by turn we stand on it, look around over the green woods and shout our positive message into the deep. Coming from a deep sense of belonging here I don't need to think about my words: 'I am happy and this is what I want'.

Chema tells about the amazing history of this path. It has been used by Celts and Romans, and in the Middle Ages two bridges where built here for the pilgrimage to Santiago and trade. The bishop decided to change the pilgrim way towards where the present Camino is, when the area became to unsafe to travel. The path is steep and dangerous now and then. We don't meet other walkers. 

The path leads to the old church of Molaniseca. We swim in the cold river to cool down from the walk. I ask Chema if I can come along to their camp, in a village in the mountains. First he refuses, later the answer is: ja. So we drive out of town into the mountains. The beautiful old stone house where we stay is in Espinosa de Compludo. 

The next day another amazing walk. Our destiny is the next village, San Cristóbal de Valdueza, where an old templar chapel is, and the tejo milenario, a yew of almost 1250 years old. We meditate under this impressive tree and embrace it together. I felt an ancient presence in these silent moments. 

I tell Chema and Manuel about my work with young people in Holland for the Regenboog. Smiling recognition. Sense of destiny. The children come from all over Spain, and some from abroad. Most of them know each other from a previous camp. Some are with, some without problems or a history. But all, even from the age of 7, have no trouble telling about their feelings. It is amazing how easy they understand themes like 'the inner child', usually only shared by adults. They share rituals, learn their daily sayings, and it's all well organized and disciplined. And they say where it's at, if necessary. One of the assisting youngsters is sent home, he is not really ready for his task yet. 

Deeply grateful I feel for these days filled with joy and love. So as a goodbye ritual I sing the Ave M. for the group. Marco (11): 'Simon, you touched my heart.'

Ave. Aves. Plumas. Destino. 

Do you want to share?

I published this story on my Facebookpage a few months ago. It happened in May this year; this touching, healing and in the end joyful ritual for all of us. I am convinced the Camino brings people together. I am convinced there are a lot of people who want to walk with a truly dedicated travel guide. I am convinced I can organize walking with groups of pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago. Next year I will start my own company. In your company? Let me know what your Camino dreams are, and let's realize them together.      Simon Wijma

wijmasimon[at]gmail.com

FIVE PICTURES TELLING WHY

These five pictures symbolize most of what I want to share about Spain and the Camino de Santiago.

Being outside all day, in this wonderful countryside, the views and walking trails; the countryside life; the lovely and abundant food service and terraces; encountering the people of Spain; the spiritual experiences through it all.

always

Sure, every kilometer towards it contributes. Still, my camino gets it's highlight on the meseta. First the beloved stay in Castrojeriz. The next morning up the Mostalares. It took me a long time, heaviness in more than pack and heat.

Up there, overlooking the plains, I sense what I come for. Down into the deep, into the sun, no end, no shadow. All the way up to Leon - the finest parts of this Camino. Gimme no shelter.

Way be straight
way be endless
sun burn me
touch me
be in my heart
camino
siempre


Camino Meseta 2015

This day in June. Lingering, seeing what I can see. And knowing the hot afternoon sun is waiting. With a burning sun and a straight path all the way to Calzadilla de la Cueza. I am late. I walk alone. My brothers are further up the road. The other pilgrims have gone by.

All I want is sit in the shadow. But the path has to be taken. And there is no shadow. My water is not endless. A sense of fear. But what can happen, the earth will carry me. I force myself to collect stones. And write them. And lay them on the path. Don't look back. 

A special encounter in Castrojeriz

© Nia Peiro

Touching moments watching this one and other photos Nia Peiro made with and of Mau Mariani.

Accompanied by pure wise words. There is one quote - the one that spoke loudest to my heart - I want to share with you: the ideal man is he who, in the moments of most intense activity, knows how to find the silence and the loneliness of the desert. This man has achieved self mastery. 

Nia Peiro and Mau Mariani made their exhibition in this so beautiful house in Castrojeriz. You will find it on the Camino. My brother and I had the privilege of meeting Mau and talk to him about the Camino, life, souls meeting... 

An eternal pilgrim, Mau calls himself. Hospital del Alma, the hospital of the soul. Sure it can be.

Meanwhile (2018) the house is called The Temple of Silence

The garden

The Wild Chapel

Inside the Wild Chapel, the place I was drawn to 

Hospitality and spirit l

A second visit to Viloria de Rioja, where Acacio and Orietta have their lovely small refugio. Ja it feels more like a shelter. Again a warm welcome. And such good talks.

Intriguing and important matters. Questions that ask for answers.

Is the meseta the most important, the deepening part of the Camino?

Why do so many people skip this part of the Way?

Where are the black people on the Way?

Where are the pilgrims from Africa?

Has the Camino once been a pilgrimage road in the other direction? Where to?

I have invited Acacio to write on this blog.

* To be continued.

Orietta and me

About my first Camino: What did it bring to you

So many people were asking this one question after I walked my first Camino: what did it bring to you? It is really a question from the western world. I don't now yet! But, for this moment:

* I lost six kilograms of weight

* I'm proud of myself I did these eight hundred kilometers, because it's much further than you think

* I found out I can ignore pain and go on to do what I wanted to do

* I realise that these years in the still young 21. Century confuse more and more people and make them (us) want something different: away from the money-hit-and-run culture, from the traffic jams, from the pollution, from the full-contact but also non-contact society. It's not that you will automatically find or avoid all this on the Camino, but it's a good effort!
There is only one Camino secret: walk. Walk every day. Walk on.

* I forgot time!

* It made me at ease to be in Spain for such a long time. Away from obligations, from a noisy and busy country, from worries and work.
 
* I discovered a lot of hidden resources, of energy

* I found friendship. I found out that I couldn't walk this road all by myself. I found out that I can ask for help- and get it.

*....................................................

* And take a look at the poem (message 17 sept on this blog). There's a lot in it about my journey. 

Spain: how to find words for this indescribable country?

View from the Mostalares towards Castrojeriz

Like majesties the hills lay down in time. In a country with a wider sky than elsewhere. A land so down-to-earth that the language has become like it- stone, harsh, dry. The singing tones, like in Italian, got lost somewhere in the ages. The people also look duro, and few are easy at first sight. But a Spaniard is  -whatyouseeiswhatyouget.
You're not from here so what do you want- that's everywhere.
Still- the land shapes you. 

A beautiful and fascinating quote from Cees Nooteboom about time and space: 'Holland lost its space and with that- strange enough- its time. When I get there I sense superficiality, a neurotic inconsistancy. '(...) 'Undefendable, I think, that I want to make this relation between space and time, but in Spain, still this emptiest land of Europe, it seems there has been conserved another form of time, as if the actuality (always loudly present here) has less legimitacy, and disappears in an unendless slower size, time.' *

(Nederland verloor zijn ruimte en daarmee - gek genoeg- zijn tijd. Als ik er kom voel ik oppervlakkigheid, een neurotische inconsistentie. (...) Onverdedigbaar, denk ik, deze relatie die ik wil leggen tussen ruimte en tijd, en toch, het lijkt of er in Spanje, dit nog steeds leegste land van Europa ook een andere vorm van tijd bewaard is, alsof het actuele, hoe luid het hier ook altijd schettert, minder geldigheid heeft en verdwijnt in een oneindig veel langzamer maat. Misschien zijn het de streken die ik opzoek, het zal wel. Want dat is wat ik wil, vertraging (...) * Cees Nooteboom, De Omweg naar Santiago pag. 368)

distances

Pilars and stones, but also traffic signs make you very aware of how large the country is and how far it is to the cathedral. I'll never forget I looked at a map after the first three long days of walking. I couldn't even see the progress I had made...  

Why you should walk the whole way

Somewhere between Burgos and León it happened to me. I forgot about time. Was it in Villalcázar del Sirga, in San Nicolás del Real Camino, in Rabé de las Calzadas? I don't know. Didn't know the day of the week, the exact date. Not the time of the day: just -it's light or dark. No news. No papers, no phone. Just getting up in the dark and walk. Enjoying a delayed breakfast.

A break whenever there is shadow. Walking through another beautiful Spanish village. No blisters. No schedule. No plan. Great, joyful experience, and so unique, it makes you go 'inside'.

some more place name poetry

Inspiration from 1933

As I walked out one midsummer morning. The title of a lovely book and one of my inspiration sources. Laurie Lee published it in 1969. He left home in 1933 and left for London. He worked there for a while and decided to go abroad. But where to go? He suddenly remembers a sentence: the translation of 'Please give me a glass of water' in Spanish. It makes him decide to go to Spain.
He arrives by boat in Vigo, and walks for months to the south. It's a real wanderer's journey. Being at a crossroad and then the sound of Vallodolid makes him go there in stead of to Oviedo/Leon.
Some things never change. "You're on foot? I musn't think of travelling by foot!!!" a woman in a village cries out. I hadn't expected that in the thirties. She must have had a donkey.

He is heading for Madrid, Sevilla, Cadiz and ends up at the southern coast. Has to go when the civil war starts. But the book ends with another journey into Spain...  

Lee makes some money playing his violin. But he doesn't need much, he can get a bed for two pesetas and a meal for some music.
He's not the only one traveling, he meets other vagabonds. And many gypsies. Really a different world, Spain in the 1930's. Lonesome roads. No traffic, airplanes or telephones. He encounters wolves or wild dogs, he's not sure.

It is great if you can travel like this. Just where the wind leads you to (no yellow arrows..).
Next sabbatical?

A few days ago my friends John and Helen took a walk to Slad Valley, where Laurie Lee left from on his long journey, and took this photograph for me... It's the pink house where Lee lived... (pretty much in the middle. 2nd house from right and south-west of the church)