Camino Chronicle
Walking to Santiago
By Susan Alcorn
Shepherd Canyon Books
Copyright © 2006
Susan Alcorn
All right reserved.
ISBN: 0-936034-03-3
Contents
List of Legends and Essays...................................................................................................................x
Preface......................................................................................................................................xi
Acknowledgements.............................................................................................................................xvii
Prologue Introduction to the Camino de Santiago: A Brief History for Contemporary Travelers.................................................1
Region 1 The Pyrenees
1 Roncesvalles to Zubiri On Foot in the Pyrenees...........................................................................................15
2 Zubiri to Cizur Menor Starting to Get the Hang of It.....................................................................................31
Region 2 West Navarra and La Rioja
3 Cizur Menor to Los Arcos Wine Flowing from Spigots?......................................................................................45
4 Los Arcos to Nájera Festival in Viana....................................................................................................63
5 Nájera to Santo Domingo de la Calzada The Legend of the Chickens of Santo Domingo de la Calzada..........................................73
6 9/11 in Santo Domingo de la Calzada Stunning News from Home..............................................................................79
7 Santo Domingo de la Calzada to San Juan de Ortega Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall................................................87
Region 3 The Meseta
8 San Juan de Ortega to Burgos Luxury in Burgos............................................................................................99
9 Burgos to Mansilla de las Mulas Nueve meses de invierno y tres de infierno (Nine months of winter and three of hell).....................113
10 Mansilla de las Mulas, León to Astorga León and the Cathedral with No Walls.............................................................131
Region 4 The Cantabrian Range
11 Astorga to Trabadelo Of the Maragatos, El Bierzo, and the Fairy-tale Castle.............................................................143
Region 5 Galicia
12 Trabadelo to Portomarín Into Green Galicia..............................................................................................155
13 Portomarín to A Rúa/Arca We're Coasting Home............................................................................................167
14 Santiago de Compostela Journey's End....................................................................................................177
Epilogue
15 Madrid Trip's End.......................................................................................................................185
16 Reflections..............................................................................................................................191
17 How to Prepare for Your Camino Trip Tying up the Loose Ends.............................................................................203
Appendix
Who Are the Modern Day Pilgrims?.............................................................................................................221
Bibliography.................................................................................................................................227
List of Photographs..........................................................................................................................229
Index........................................................................................................................................230
About the Author.............................................................................................................................235
Chapter One
Roncesvalles to Zubiri
On Foot in the Pyrenees
As for courage and will-we can not measure how much of
each lies within us, we can only trust there will be sufficient to
carry through trials which may lie ahead.
-Andre Norton
Camino Journal, Day 1 (Saturday, September 1, 2001): Madrid
to Roncesvalles.
Our last morning in Madrid had somewhat of a shaky start because
I had hardly slept. My neck hurt, and my ears would not
clear; they had been popping ever since our take-off from SFO.
And our wake-up call came at six-thirty: too early for breakfast.
The taxi picked us up at seven for our short ride to the train
station. That much was easy, but once at the station we had to
figure out where to board the train. Seating was scheduled for
seven-thirty. We finally located the flashing sign indicating our
train, and climbed aboard. The seats were comfortable, though
not reclining. I was disappointed that instead of being seated
together, Ralph and I were both on the aisle, one behind the
other. I had wanted to watch the scenery, but the man seated
next to me slept for two hours with the curtain drawn, so I
could see very little.
Luckily after that initial period, the man next to me departed,
and so did Ralph's ventana (window) person, so I moved
up and could see the pretty countryside the rest of the way.
Madrid is dry; the closer we got to Pamplona the denser the
vegetation became.
We arrived in Pamplona at twelve-fifty, then took a bus. Ralph
knew just what bus to take to the center of town (#9) and we
got right to the center of town and the autobus terminal. There
were many bus lines, which was really confusing, with no posted
schedule for where we were going, but fortunately we found
another passenger who could tell us what was going on.
We went for lunch: more confusion. We finally managed to
order a ham (more like thick bacon) and pepper sandwich, beer
and dessert. We returned to the bus station to wait.
The bus soon arrived. The only reason we knew it was the
right one was that there was a sudden flurry of activity as all
the backpackers started moving toward it. We found out that
it was going to leave at four in the afternoon. We climbed on.
The bus was soon full; it was not yet three-thirty and many anxious
travelers were still waiting outside. The bus line somehow
came up with a second bus and everyone managed to catch a
ride. I was glad to be on board; the woman at a neighboring
ticket counter had told us the bus left at six. I wondered what
happened to anyone who arrived later expecting a six o'clock
departure.
The ride from Pamplona to Roncesvalles was beautiful. The
road became increasingly curvy as it wound its way through many
hamlets on our climb into the Pyrenees. The two-storied houses
were well cared for with freshly-painted white plaster exteriors.
Their curved red-tile roofs, crisply-painted flower boxes, and
pots filled with red geraniums were picture-book perfect.
We arrived in the tiny hamlet of Roncesvalles at five pm; it had
been a long day. The bus stopped near the dark Gothic church,
which has welcomed pilgrims since the twelfth century. We hoped
to stay in the refugio (hostel) in the church's monastery.
Everyone began scrambling out of buses and getting in a long
line. For what, we had no idea. We followed the crowd. No one
was speaking English; we had to piece together overheard bits
of conversations. It turned out that the line was to get a credential:
the folding paper document that we were to carry with us
to indicate that we're pilgrims on the walk to Santiago. Though
we knew we were in the correct line to obtain the credencial
(credential or pilgrim's passport), I was still anxious; we had no
idea whether or not we had a place to stay that night.
We waited outside the dark-colored, closed doors of a
large room. We watched as groups of about sixteen at a time
were invited in. When we were admitted, we filed in, took a
seat at a long table, which had printed forms in place and pens
fastened with cords to the table. The woman in charge rattled
off instructions in Spanish. She repeated them in Spanish, but
then in English when we asked. "Bed by ten pm, out by eight AM,
order dinner ahead of time to eat dinner at the nearby restaurant
at eight-thirty," she sternly announced.
After everyone in line was registered, the real chaos began. The
woman took everyone into the refuge in an adjoining building.
Dark, old, flights of stairs, numerous rooms. As she was giving
directions, people started grabbing thick mats from a stack
to sleep on; the first room filled quickly. Directions continued,
other rooms filled up.
I grabbed a mat and tried to find a place to put it on the
floor. Heads shook, "no room, full." I couldn't even find a place
to put a mat! Finally, a couple of women realized that Ralph and I
didn't have a clue to what was going on, took pity, moved things
around, and offered me a place. I didn't know what was happening
with Ralph, if they would make room for him, or what.
I sank to the mat, my stomach in a knot, struggled to hold back
the tears that would have been embarrassing to release.
Then just as I thought I might survive the night, a woman
came to get us and indicated that we were to follow her. "Where
are we going now?" I wondered. Though the guidebook stated
that the refugio held less than sixty, I was certain there were
at least a hundred people there.
We went up two flights of winding stairs. We ended up with
two upper bunks and on adjoining bunks. The guy in the bunk
below me dragged a bench over so I could get up and down
more easily. I climbed up. I pondered silently how old I'd been
when I last had slept in a bunk bed: perhaps eight or ten years
old? I tried not to think about the prospect of falling out of the
skinny bunk during the middle of the night.
With that traumatizing introduction to Spanish communal
living, and because the monastery is set in a small valley and by
late afternoon was fairly dark and dreary, we were a little apprehensive
about how things were going to go. However, we
set out to explore the town. Besides the refugio, church, the
restaurant (which also had rooms for rent), and a shop that sold
some flavorful cheeses, wines, breads, and souvenirs, there was
little else. We bought some olive bread for lunches ahead.
Dinner was very good. It was served at two seatings; we
went to the one at eight-thirty. For 1,000 pesetas (about $6) we
had a thick broth with pasta that was warm and filling followed
by fresh trout, wine, bread, and ice cream; having a little food
and wine improved our mood. Then to bed. I took a sleeping
pill and slept well.
Over the next few days, we learned a lot more about how
refugios worked and where we would find food along the
way.
Ralph and I began our hike in Roncesvalles where the
routes over the Pyrenees from St . Jean-Pied-de-Port
converge and the trail works its way down out of the
mountains. Roncesvalles is a tiny hamlet, dominated by
a monastery. Pilgrims have been welcomed here dating
back to the 12th century. Originally the monks of the abbey
helped travelers; nowadays, D. Javier Navarro and a group
of volunteers assist.
Like most villages along the Camino, Roncesvalles has
its own claim to fame. This is the area where Charlemagne,
King of the Franks (French), retreated into France in 778.
The legend is that when Charlemagne's rearguard was ambushed,
the French knight Roland blew his horn to summon
the emperor and his heroic actions were instrumental
in stopping the Muslims from further invasions. (Roland's
bravery later inspired the epic poem, Song of Roland.)
Most Travelers who plan to travel the entire length of the
Camino de Santiago start at St. Jean-Pied-de-Port, which
is on the French side of the French/Spanish border, or at
Roncesvalles, which is just over the crest of the Pyrenees in
Spain. The hike from St. Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles
is about sixteen miles (25.76 km) through the Pyrenees, and
a cumulative ascent of 4,500 ft. (1,371 m.).
Pilgrims traveling from St. Jean-Pied-de-Port have two
routes from which to choose: the Route Napoléon and the
route that generally follows the highway (Spanish N135)
and passes through the town of Valcarlos. The first, Route
Napoléon, is more dramatic but also more strenuous and
potentially more hazardous. When the weather is clear,
the views of the Pyrenees and back to St. Jean-Pied-de-Port
are spectacular. Sightings of birds of prey and deer
are frequent.
The Route Napoléon follows minor roads and unpaved
trails. The pass is 3,565 ft. (1,087 m.) in elevation and although
it is much lower than the highest point in the Pyrenees,
which is far south at Picos de Aneto (11,165 ft./3,404
m.), even here high winds, bitter cold, fog, and avalanches
are quite possible. In some years, snow may fall as early as
September and the pass can be covered with snow until
the following summer.
When following the Route Napoléon, hikers and cyclists
will reach Col de Lepoeder-where medieval pilgrims
would typically plant a wooden cross and pray for a safe
journey-and once again have a two routes from which to
choose. The alternatives for the last few kilometers downhill
to Roncesvalles are the old Roman route or the Puerta de
Ibañeta. The Roman route is shorter, but steeper, and less
well marked. The route via Puerta de Ibañeta is longer, but
more gradual. ( Puerta de Ibañeta is the actual spot where
Charlemagne heard Roland's horn signaling for help.)
The alternate route from St. Jean, through Valcarlos, primarily
follows roads. It traverses the mountains at lower
elevations. In medieval times, pilgrims generally followed
this more hospitable route, but some chose the more mountainous
Route Napoléon because it was less frequented by
bandits. The route through Valcarlos is recommended whenever
taking the Route Napoléon might be hazardous because
of inclement weather, or any time when a less strenuous
route is desired. On either route, even during the summer,
it is not uncommon for travelers to encounter short, but
substantial, downpours.
Journal, Day 2 (Sunday, September 2): Roncesvalles to Zubiri
(13.5 miles/22 km).
Our hike has begun. At seven-thirty this morning, we tied our
scallop shells to the front of our backpacks, lifted the fifteen-pound
packs onto our backs, and officially set foot on the
Camino. I imagine most people would feel pretty excited about
what lies ahead. I felt a combination of things: excitement and
curiosity about starting on an unknown journey and anxiety
and concern about whether I had the stamina for the long trek
ahead. We soon encountered two men in traditional pilgrim
garb (including the heavy cloaks). They also wore, as does almost
everyone who walks the Camino, the symbolic scallop
shell on their backpacks.
In about three kilometers we hit Burguete, a favorite fishing
site for Ernest Hemingway. Its hostel boasts a piano with his
signature. We noticed that the town was also known as Auritz
and found out that all the towns on this part of the trail have a
Basque name as well as a Spanish one.
We found a restaurant that served hot beverages and croissants.
After placing our order for my tea and Ralph's coffee, we
selected two bananas from the woven basket next to the register.
We let our backpacks slide to the floor and sat down at
a nearby table to enjoy our breakfast. We ate quickly so that
we could get back on the trail. On the way out of town, we
stopped briefly at a panaderia (bakery) to purchase a hearty-looking
loaf of rye bread and some salami, cheese, and orange
juice for lunch. Finally, we felt ready for the day.
Refugios (also called albergues) have provided accommodations
to pilgrims from the earliest times. In those times,
the names used were commonly hospital, hospice, and monastery.
Nowadays we think of a hospital as being a place to
seek medical care, not a place to stay overnight. In earlier
times, there was considerable overlap: hospitals provided
not only medical assistance to local residents and travelers,
but also bed and board to healthy pilgrims. The quality of
medical care was wide-ranging. Eldor Pederson, who frequently
contributes to the GoCamino forum, writes, "In a
small village, the hospital might provide what we would
now term first aid given by a kindly, but untrained, monk
or nun. In the larger hospitals, 'state of the art' treatment
was provided by physicians trained in great universities
such as those of Bologna, Paris, or Salamanca."
Nowadays there are pilgrim refugios every nine to fifteen
miles along the route to Santiago, where pilgrims can
stay overnight. Usually a nominal fee is charged; if it is not,
a donation should be given. A refugio nowadays is a dormitory
reserved exclusively for the use of pilgrims traveling
the Camino on foot, bicycle, or horseback.
The seasons and hours that they are open are varied;
the Pilgrim Guide will be very important because it gives
these details. When pilgrims arrive at each refugio, their
credencial will be checked to make sure that they are entitled
to use the facilities, then stamped and returned.
In earlier times, travelers arriving at a hospice would generally
find a sleeping room with one large straw mattress
all to be shared with a dozen or so companions. Nowadays,
refugios offer a less rudimentary stay; however, it is wise
to expect no more than a clean place to throw down your
sleeping bag and to be thrilled when you find more.
Usually the sleeping rooms are co-ed. The quality of the
accommodations varies; some have hot water at all hours,
kitchens, and washer and dryer. Others have cold water
and concrete floors. Most often they will be somewhere in
between: with beds, feeble water flow in the showers, electricity,
washtubs, and clotheslines.
Churches, charities, municipalities, and occasionally
families, run refugios. Oftentimes the people who maintain
the facility are volunteers. Cleanliness also varies both
because of the staff and the recent travelers.
Because August is the peak month for pilgrims on the
Camino, and July is second, the refugios are most crowded
during those months. Traditionally accommodations have
been strictly first come, first served: no reservations taken.
However, because of growing concern about overcrowding,
there is currently discussion of imposing small fees
and allowing reservations to be made in the Galician municipal-run
refugios.
Precedence is usually given to pilgrims who arrive on
foot, then bicycle, then horseback, but with the increasing
strain on the system, this isn't always enforced. We didn't
carry a sleeping pad, but if we were to hike during the
summer months again, we would probably carry them to
eliminate the worry that we'd arrive late and have to sleep
on the floor.
There is a daily routine: generally the refugios want everyone
out by eight in the morning; some people start getting
up and out by five. We found ourselves caught up in
a "refugio mentality": get off to an early start; hurry to get
to the next place before all the beds fill up.
Because things would start stirring so early in the morning
and because of the snoring, earplugs are essential. Even
so, we found ourselves becoming a little sleep-deprived.
About every fourth day we would check into a small hotel
for recovery.
We met very few English speakers along the way. We
found it difficult to communicate in the refugios because we
didn't know French or German-or even Spanish as spoken
in Spain. Even though we have traveled a fair amount in
Mexico, we were dismayed to find that it was much harder
for us to acquire an "ear" for Spanish as it is spoken along
the Camino. Not only is some of the vocabulary different,
but also some of the pronunciation. For example instead of
the "c" sound that we use in "cent," we heard "c" pronounced
as "th." Therefore, "cinco" becomes "think-o."
It would be worthwhile for visitors to learn the variants before
their trip (Lonely Planet's Walking in Spain has a helpful
vocabulary section). We had sufficient Spanish to get food
and shelter, but found it hard to carry on meaningful conversations.
Nevertheless we made friends along the way:
sometimes because people spoke English and sometimes
by getting a third party to translate.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Camino Chronicle
by Susan Alcorn
Copyright © 2006 by Susan Alcorn.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Since the publication of "We're in the Mountains Not over the Hill: Tales and Tips from Seasoned Women Backpackers," which included the author's adventures after taking up backpacking at the age of 48, Susan Alcorn has continued long-distance hiking. In September and October, 2001, the author and her husband Ralph, hiked 400 miles of the 500-mile Camino de Santiago. In spring 2004 and fall 2005, she and Ralph went to France and hiked a total of 350 miles of the LePuy route (aka GR65), one of the four major French pilgrimage trails that leads into the Spanish Camino de Santiago. In September 2006, they plan to hike 100 miles in France and the same distance in Spain, which will allow them to complete both trails. In addition to the trails in Europe, Susan Alcorn has continued backpacking in the U.S. She has hiked more than 800 miles of the west's scenic, challenging, mountainous, Pacific Crest Trail. The author is a resident of Oakland, California and has lived in the Bay Area most of her life. She attended local schools, and graduated from U.C. Berkeley. In 1986, after raising a family, she went back to school (Cal State University) to earn her teaching credential. She then began teaching fifth grade and continued in that career until her retirement in 2003. Nowadays, when she is not hiking, she enjoys spending time with friends, caring for her three grandchildren, or dancing Zydeco (the infectious music of Louisiana).
