The Camino de Santiago Part 2: Reaching my Lowest Point

Day 5: Villatuerta to Torres del Rio 33.1km

Early in the morning I set off on my own and quickly got to the town of Estella where I stopped at a café for some breakfast. As I made my way out of town there was a winery that had a fountain at the entrance that gave out free wine for passing pilgrims. It was very odd to have a drink of wine at 7.30 in the morning while on a trek, but sure why not. As I went on my way, I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going, and I ended up on an alternative route up through the hills and forests. I should have noticed something was wrong when all the other pilgrims turned left leaving Estella and I kept going straight. As I checked my map, it turned out that I was on the right route, however as there was no facilities for food and water ahead for the next 17km most of the other pilgrims stuck to the main roads that travelled through the local villages which was actually a longer route. I checked my bag, and I was happy I had enough food and water with me for the hike ahead and decided to stick to the route I was on, and it was a decision I didn’t regret, I loved the hike through the forests on my own, and the shade from the trees protected me from the heat of the day. Eventually that evening I strolled into Torres del Rio, which would be my stop for the night. As I walk towards the Albergue I heard a big hello, it was Antoni, my Polish Canadian friend I walked with the day before and I was delighted to see him. After I got settled in, we had drinks outside, and it was here I met Keira, a beautiful young girl from California. She was getting plenty of attention form the young Italian lads and Antoni gave me a nudge and said, “I think you better rescue her”, so I asked her to join us in the restaurant for dinner along with two other older Italian men who I befriended over drinks. The conversation was great over dinner, and we all bonded over our music playlists for the Camino. Later back at the Albergue, I got back chatting to Antoni, I liked our chats, and I definitely looked up to him, he was becoming somewhat of a father figure on this journey.

Day 6: Torres del Rio to Navarette 33.3km

Leaving the Albergue early the next morning and it looked like Antoni was already on the road. Keira was just leaving the Albergue at the same time as myself, so we decided to walk together. I learned a lot about her that morning. She was a Steiner teacher (alternative primary teacher) that was always on the move, staying no more than a year in any one city before moving on. Her family was torn apart by her brother’s heroin addiction, and she packed her bags and left, no mobile phone, no social media, she lived off grid. I sort of admired her living her life like that, on her terms, but you could sense though she was in pain. Walk with someone and you’ll really get to know them. The last stop of the day was Navarette, and tonight we were dining El fresco, as an added bonus there was a wedding taking place in the nearby church and afterwards the party was in the town square which we were invited to join them in their celebrations, and so we did, but only for a short while as bedtime was always an early one on the Camino, lights out at 10pm, that’s the rule!

Day 7: Navarette to Ciruena 31.5km

Keira and myself set of walking at 6am, something was slightly off this morning and a bit of psychical distance had formed between us, so I walked on ahead for a while to give both of us some head space. I was admiring the view of all the farms irrigation systems spraying water over the crops as the sun was rising and I was struck by the sheer volume of water it must take to grow crops around here. I was also becoming aware of how sore my feet were getting, I was in near constant pain now. During that morning, I passed by a woman walking on crutches and carrying a full backpack. I had a brief chat as I walked by and it turned out she was suffering with MS (Multiple Sclerosis) and she was walking the same route as me, the entire 800km, in one go. I was in awe of her and suddenly the pain in my feet became insignificant. After a while Keira caught up with me and around 9am we decided to stop for breakfast and here we met two more pilgrims, Cloe, and Irish girl living in London, and Victoria from Mexico. We all walked on together for the next four hours, Cloe, like many other pilgrims, found it difficult to state why she was walking the Camino, Victoria on the other hand was very clear, she was dedicated to her catholic faith and was walking the Camino in memory of her late mother.

When we reached the village of Azofra, the three girls checked into the Albergue, but I had other plans, something was urging me to continue. I had something to eat and told Keira was continuing on my journey, we hugged and said our goodbyes, it’s amazing how close you get to people in such a short space of time when you’re out here walking. Of I went, but little did I know that this was going to be the hardest part of my journey. For the next three hours of walking, I could feel nothing but sadness, I knew that everyone that I met on the Camino was now behind me, the only person that may be ahead of me was Antoni and I was hoping that he might be staying in the next town. I arrived in a town called Ciruena where I was planning on staying, the town looked deserted, I hadn’t seen another pilgrim for last three hours either. The only other people I could see here was a gang of youths going around checking doorhandles of cars to see if any were left unlocked. Completely exhausted I reached the centre of the town were my map showed two Albergue’s, and to my horror, they were both closed down. I looked at the map again to see where the next town was, and it was 6km ahead, my heart sank, I simply couldn’t face another 6km with no food or water and in that moment my emotions got the better of me, I felt anger, I felt sadness but mainly I felt grief, something myself and Victoria had in common, as I too had lost a parent a year earlier. Just as I was gathering myself together to try and come up with a plan of what to do, something amazing happened, a bunch a kids came running and playing up the street. The youngest of them, I’d say she was only about 10 years old approached me and asked me if I needed help? I said yes, she guided me to her mother’s house, and said that she looks after pilgrims. The relief was something else, I walked down the street and rang the doorbell, and sure enough a woman answered and beckoned me in. You see most adults in this part of Spain cannot speak English, but the kids are all taught English as soon as they start school. Sitting down to a home cooked chicken dinner with her family the doorbell rang and in walks another pilgrim, this time Aoife from Cavan. After dinner I sat outside with Aoife, even though I was glad I had food and shelter for the night, I still wasn’t feeling great, and I did go on a bit of a rant about life while chain smoking my way through a pack of Marlboro.

Day 8: Ciruena to Belorado 28.9km

I set off on my own the next morning, early as usual, no sign of Aoife, she said that she doesn’t start walking until 9am. I laughed to myself though, maybe after my rant last night she may have been glad not to be walking with me this morning. However, I was feeling a bit better, and I was now on country paths all the way to the next town, Santo Domingo, where I stopped for breakfast. As I set off again, something was very different about the next section of the route, it was along the N-120, a busy main road, and that’s how it was for the next 23km, it was very mentally though, I thought “this can’t be it, this can’t be what the Camino is”, and I began to hate the Camino. Just in the very distance I could make out one other pilgrim, but apart from that I never spoke nor seen anyone else all day. I was longing for some familiarity, and as it just happened a Nolan Transport (An Irish Haulage Company) truck passed me on the road, probably heading to catch the ferry back to Ireland, it made me laugh a little though. What I haven’t mentioned yet was that there was a friend of mine already on the Camino, her name was Clara. We had planned on starting out together, but the dates didn’t suit, so she set off a week ahead of me. I decided to get in touch with her to see where she was at, she was still a good 5 days ahead of me, maybe we’ll meet at the end. I arrived at the Albergue that evening in Belorado, there was about 10 people staying there that night, but they were all Spanish and had very little English, they were very friendly though and tried to include me, but I kept myself to myself this evening. I was sitting looking out the window when I spotted a familiar face, it was Victoria, I couldn’t believe it, she was so far behind that I didn’t think I’d see her again. She was staggering, her legs were like jelly, and she was in tears. I quickly got her some chocolate so she could get some sugar into her. She was like me the night before, she went on her own rant, I knew the feeling and knew just to listen to her. She had left Cloe and Keira behind, and she covered nearly 50km that day. We later sat down and had dinner, she apologised for her rant earlier, but there was no need, I think it’s something we all need to do out here at some point. Feeling somewhat deflated about my experience over the last couple of days I retired to bed, and still with the thought, why walk a Camino?

Ultan Cavanagh