I spent three and a half days on the Camino de Santiago, as mentioned in my earlier post. It was an atavistic urge, the desire for adventure with a friend, and fodder for a column that I am at best piecing together. Pardon me as I use this forum to brainstorm through some of my thoughts.
The region of Asturias in northern Spain is charming--snowy peaks in the distance, verdant pastures dotted with cows and the ring of their friendly cowbells, flowers of sunrise colors and blooming apple trees, muddy mountain roads, towering bridges, curious horses and small towns with friendly inhabitants who willingly help you with directions along the way.
I don't believe we got more than 77 km under our soles, but they were sure worth it! I enjoyed the Primitive Way more than the French Way (completed in 2009) because of the scenery and the smaller amount of pilgrims. The hostels were clean and cheaper than on the French route. The people we met were mostly Germans and Spaniards of middle age and above. For many of them, it was not the first Camino they were walking.
The best thing on the Camino is peace of mind. Yes, you tax your body and you get wet and tired and have a few blisters. But somehow the slow pace, the nearness to nature, the lack of technology and the quirky people you meet all help you wind down and open you to being "present." It limits you (from all the opportunities, duties and connections you have in your everyday life) while at the same time expands you (to see beauty, meet new people, push you physically, help you think new thoughts). And there is nothing mystical about it, quite the contrary--it's plodding one step after another, day after day.
But isn't that life? One step at at time, day after day in the same direction until the arrow at the crossroads shows you which way to turn. You know, the word primitive denotes not only the early stage of the historical development of something (the Primitive Route is the oldest section of the Way of St. James) and something with a basic level of comfort or convenience (hostels have the basics, you are also reduced to basics), but it also means "of or denoting a simple, direct style of art that deliberately rejects sophisticated artistic techniques."
The Camino, both a metaphor for life and a lesson on how to live it, is about the art of living. When you go on the Camino, you are deliberately rejecting the sophistication of your life--with its demands, comforts and technology, and opting for simplicity and directness. You have very little with you--so you are freed from wondering what to wear every morning and what you should do that day. You walk, very simply, one step at a time. You are direct in your purpose, because it has been defined for you if you choose to walk the way--your daily agenda has one goal, which is to arrive at the next destination on the way to Santiago.
Now, the reasons that spur people to seek this simplicity on the Camino are way more complicated and diverse! But I'll leave those stories outside the scope of this rambling and leave you with a picture worth a thousand words...
The region of Asturias in northern Spain is charming--snowy peaks in the distance, verdant pastures dotted with cows and the ring of their friendly cowbells, flowers of sunrise colors and blooming apple trees, muddy mountain roads, towering bridges, curious horses and small towns with friendly inhabitants who willingly help you with directions along the way.
I don't believe we got more than 77 km under our soles, but they were sure worth it! I enjoyed the Primitive Way more than the French Way (completed in 2009) because of the scenery and the smaller amount of pilgrims. The hostels were clean and cheaper than on the French route. The people we met were mostly Germans and Spaniards of middle age and above. For many of them, it was not the first Camino they were walking.
The best thing on the Camino is peace of mind. Yes, you tax your body and you get wet and tired and have a few blisters. But somehow the slow pace, the nearness to nature, the lack of technology and the quirky people you meet all help you wind down and open you to being "present." It limits you (from all the opportunities, duties and connections you have in your everyday life) while at the same time expands you (to see beauty, meet new people, push you physically, help you think new thoughts). And there is nothing mystical about it, quite the contrary--it's plodding one step after another, day after day.
But isn't that life? One step at at time, day after day in the same direction until the arrow at the crossroads shows you which way to turn. You know, the word primitive denotes not only the early stage of the historical development of something (the Primitive Route is the oldest section of the Way of St. James) and something with a basic level of comfort or convenience (hostels have the basics, you are also reduced to basics), but it also means "of or denoting a simple, direct style of art that deliberately rejects sophisticated artistic techniques."
The Camino, both a metaphor for life and a lesson on how to live it, is about the art of living. When you go on the Camino, you are deliberately rejecting the sophistication of your life--with its demands, comforts and technology, and opting for simplicity and directness. You have very little with you--so you are freed from wondering what to wear every morning and what you should do that day. You walk, very simply, one step at a time. You are direct in your purpose, because it has been defined for you if you choose to walk the way--your daily agenda has one goal, which is to arrive at the next destination on the way to Santiago.
Now, the reasons that spur people to seek this simplicity on the Camino are way more complicated and diverse! But I'll leave those stories outside the scope of this rambling and leave you with a picture worth a thousand words...
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| Leaving Oviedo |
2 comments:
Wish I had been with you. :D When shall we go and walk it? Time might be available at the end of this summer... though not perhaps the qushki...
Miss you and your rambling thoughts and colorful descriptions about life and journey... those conversations are few and far between these days...
Abrazos...
I haven't visited your blog for awhile, and have been catching up on past posts. We recently watched The Way, (recommended by Ashley and Owen who have been on their own perambulations throughout Europe this past year.) Since then, T has been exploring maps and websites about the Camino, and we hope, one day, to walk some of the more remote sections.
I enjoy your interpretation of the Camino as a metaphor for life - life lived to the full, artfully.
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