The 100k Day: On taking “shortcuts”

Dear Seattle,

Die-hard peregrinos out there might cringe when I make this confession: this pilgrim is taking the bus for part of the route.

Originally, I only considered taking a local bus through Leon based on advice given by past peregrinos. They reported the walk through the city as a numbing trek through industrial areas and suburbs. I’ve also been warned by others the mesita (a small plateau) from Burgos to Astorga is the least “interesting” of the walk in terms of terrain and views. The last few days (walking from Burgos to Carrion de los Condes) has proven that to be true. The high mesita has moments of breathtaking beauty, but the bulk of the walking has been on or just off pavement and close to the road. No bueno.

NICE.
Less nice.

Fair warning, I might be a little different than most pilgrims.  My trip to Spain isn’t just about walking the Camino. I also planned to squeeze in time in Lisbon, Portugal; Seville/Grenada; AND Barcelona before TBF and I head to Munich to visit his family.

As initially planned, I was willing to stick it out the dull streches, but after a bit of discussion TBF and I determined the only way we were going to accomplish our Camino goal of walking to Finesterre* AND see the rest of the destinations on the itinerary was by cutting out a bit of less interesting parts.

Via the bus.

So here I am, updating my blog via the comfort of an ALSA bus from Carrion de los Condes to Leon. In Leon, we’ll switch busses and well before dark, we’ll be in Astorga. Tomorrow morning, we walk again, but we’ve effectively cut out just over 4 days of walking. (Here’s a fun post from someone else to decided to make the same leap)

What does this mean to me, a modern day pilgrim on the road to Santiago?

Not much, surprisingly.

In fact, the decision to skip part of the route has no impact at all on my ability to get my compostela in Santiago. The compostela is the official certificate of completion received by the pilgrim from the church after careful scrutiny of the pilgrim’s stamped passport of her travels. It also entitles the pilgrim to be included in the nationality count announced at the special pilgrim’s mass in the church.

Although St. Jean Pied Du Port is considered the traditional start of the Camino Frances, technically all that is needed is proof that the pilgrim walked 100km (200km if on bike or horse). The small town of Sarria sees the largest influx of pilgrims on the Camino. Why? It’s just over 100k from Santiago de Compostela.

I’ve never been focused on achieving my Compostela. I don’t even consider the the church at Santiago to be the end, rather I had always planned on celebrating my completion in Finisterre*. I have no interest in proving to the church that I’ve completed the walk, or in having myself counted in the mass. I have nothing against either of these traditions, but they are pretty meaningless to me.

(Please note: I have nothing against anyone who choses to go this route. Although some argue the Camino’s origins are shrouded in church propaganda it doesn’t stop the religious significance for many and I won’t challenge that. )

Where the Camino begins or ends, and how it is conducted, is as varied as the number of places pilgrims come from and reasons we walk. I’ve met many who walk a stage (a week, more or less) of the Camino each year over the course of many years until completion. Quite a few start after St. Jean in Roncevalles (to skip the big hill) or Pamplona or Burgos. Some people ship their bags from hostel to hostel, walking between them only with a day pack. Others take buses to the “major points” on the camino and then walk the last 100k.

One of the biggest challenges for me on this journey is to remain open minded when it comes to the paths of others. It’s difficult not to be a little judgmental about who is doing a “real” Camino when one slogs into an Aubergue (pilgrim’s hostel) after a long day of walking in the rain; waits patiently for the host to be ready to show the rooms; and then has to listen to a group who obviously just got off a bus (dry with no rain covers on their packs) argue and complain with the aubergue host because they won’t get first choice of the rooms. (True story) I also met a woman who was physically unable to walk every day due to a healing foot injury. She was traveling with her mid-20’s son and when she could not walk she shadowed him by bus  and they reunited at the end of the day. Who’s pilgrimage is more “real”?

It’s easy to point fingers at the people who don’t carry their packs all day, or who only see the “highlights,” and judge them lesser than those of us who are walking for weeks on end with our lives on our backs. The trouble is, out here there’s always someone who has done “more” than you have. Take the guy who walked from his front door in Belgium or the woman from Northern France. I’ve met many who started kilometers before St. Jean or are on their third or fourth Camino in a lifetime.

I’m not one for quoting the bible, but we’ve all heard that clever little one about judging not, right?

So that takes care of everyone else. But what about me? What does the design to take a bus mean to me? Am I cheating? Does this mean I’ve failed in some way? I’m not injured or sick. Yet I am choosing not to walk. I am choosing to take an advantage that would not have been available to a pilgrim back in the day.

Or would it have? Would any pilgrim, when given the chance, refuse to hop on the back of a passing wagon in order give his feet a rest and enjoy the scenery for a few kilometers while not under his own foot power?

Watching the kilometers fly by I think of what’s important to me about this trip. It’s not just a  chance to see the narrow band of northern Spain that makes up the Camino de Santiago. It’s not just to experience the challenge of a long walk and to learn more about my own strengths and weakness. It’s not just a chance to give myself a mental break as I figure out what I want to with my life moving forward.

This trip is an opportunity to experience other beautiful places in Spain and Portugal that I’ve heard so much about. I want to wander the streets of Lisbon, listen to flamenco and walk the halls of the Alhambra (or as much as they will let me) in Grenada. I want to be awed by Barcelona’s legendary architecture. I want to see friends I haven’t seen since their beautiful wedding almost two years ago. And finally, I want to meet the family of the man I’m head over heels for.

It’s a lot to wrap into one trip. And if that means skipping a few flat days beside a highway on a long walk, I’m willing to give those up. My Camino won’t mean any less to me at Finisterre, minus the 100km shortcut given by the ALSA bus line.

All of this to say, what I’m learning here is that the journey is what you make of it. How, what, why…figure it out yourself. Do what feels right.

Which for me, at this moment means closing this laptop before I get road sick trying to type as scenery flies by. After three weeks on foot, the world goes by SO FAST on a bus. Can’t wait to be on my own feet again.

I’ll burn my clothes at Finisterre with the rest of the heathens and my Camino will be complete.