My second to last walk went from Alcuéscar to Aldea del Cano; a short 15km. My legs felt strong and the weather was perfect: clouds cast some shade, it wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. Yet for some reason I was having a though day. The sky felt oppressive, the air didn’t seem to supply sufficient oxygen and my mind was hazy. I figured it had something to do with the nearing ending of the Camino. I remembered feeling lost and sad on the Camino Francès too, when Santiago came within reach. Surely, you’re happy to have made it. But when you enjoy being a pilgrim as much as I do, the foresight of finishing the journey and becoming a non-pilgrim again isn’t so joyful one. It’s a mixed feeling that catches many walkers a little of guard, but not me. I’m an experienced pilgrim now. Right? Continue reading Two important updates have been installed
Visiting Merida didn’t take as much time as I expected. My initial plan was to stay for two nights, one in an AirBnb and the second in the pilgrims albergue, where I’d meet up with Canadian C and German R and we’d walk on together. However the city didn’t appeal to me that much at all. After strolling around a bit and eating a mediocre meal, I spent the afternoon drawing in the Roman theatre – which is absolutely lovely. The next morning I continued my pilgrimage.
The equipment I brought on my Via de la Plata was the same I had on my first Camino: a bag that travelled with me to rainforests, a coat with years of dutiful service, shoes that had carried me to Compostela before. And yet I only realised how severely unsuited they were for rain after I walked in showers for hours and hours.
The road to Zafra was long and unsheltered, with bare vines stretching out on both sides. The ground was muddy and slippery, the thick earth clang to my boots and made them heavy, my pants were not waterproof.
Oh that glorious walk between Monesterio and Fuente de Cantos… No words or pictures would do it justice. It was without a doubt the most beautiful stretch of walking I encountered on my mini-camino (that is, the part between Sevilla and Cáceres) and it lifted my heart beyond expectation.
The weather was overcast and clouded, however fast winds made for an ever changing scenery and shadows travelled over the endless planes in a matter of minutes. The fields were glowing with colour, mainly the bright yellow of tiny flowers and the deep green of moist grass.
The road soon let me into a sea of infinity. This is the Spain I love so much: a landscape that seems endless, with nothing surrounding you but waving hills and heavy skies. A landscape in which one could easily drown.
My bag was the only one leaning against the wall of the bar, my face the only unfamiliar one in the village. The chairs around my table stood lonely. The pilgrims had gone, onwards. And I was left in the tiny town of El Real de la Jara, attempting to go unnoticed while I sobbed, dried my eyes, and then sobbed some more.
J, J and me had walked the first 15km of the day together, through a lovely sunrise and foresty surroundings. Yet for me it would be the only 15km of the day, since I didn’t fancy adding another 20km. We had an amazing lunch together in a cosy hunter’s bar (complete with antlers adorning the walls, jikkes), and then they left. “Don’t forget what we talked about yesterday,” J reminded me, as if I ever would. And gone they were.
Whereas the first part of my journey had been surprisingly free of worries, the third night brought a wire of emotions. Perhaps it were the icy winds and grey clouds that gathered above Almaden de la Plata, my tired muscles or my cold feet… but I was feeling far from joyful.
All my fellow pilgrims would continue on to Monesterio (35km) the next day, while I planned to walk only 15km. There was a sense of goodbye in the air, as I very well realized I’d never see these lovely people again (at least not on the Camino). And as much as I like travelling alone, I hated to see them go.
My 3th to 5th day on the Via de la Plata brought a lot of emotions. I have long postponed the continuation of this blog, partly because I find it hard to put the events that happened to words, and partly because explaining what happened also hinted a lot about my plans for the future (and those plans have largely been kept secret until yesterday).
However to complete the story of my Camino, it is important to explain a little more about the context I walked in. I apologize, because this entry is not really a travel blog, but mostly a personal version of the events that made me a pilgrim. Continue reading The context in which I walked this Camino