Mindfulness on a Modern Camino

As I left Santiago and headed down the Camino Frances, I thought of the struggles I might face on the way. Walking backwards might not only pose a bit of a navigation problem, but as a fairly introverted person I feared it might get rather isolated with no way to make a Camino family. Turns out neither of those worries would be a problem because a) turns out tracking 1000’s of people is really easy, and b) it was really easy to struck up conversations with people knowing I would never see them again. What I wasn’t prepared for was the sheer number of pilgrims on the trail and the logistical problems that resulted. Even at it’s busiest after crossing the Portugal/Spain border, the number of pilgrims on the Camino Portuguese paled in comparison to what I would face on the Camino Frances, and as I headed against the crowds, the number of pilgrims seemed to multiply by the day as I was headed straight into one of the busiest months on the Camino, not to mention by year end 2016 would mark the most pilgrims on the Camino in recorded history (~278 000). The official number of pilgrims that arrived to Santiago via the Camino Frances the month I was walking was 21, 309, meaning that on average I was crossing paths with 710 pilgrims per day!

The number of pilgrims walking the trail had doubled in a short seven years, and as I began the Camino Frances I quickly learned that the number of albergues and beds were hard pressed to keep up with the hundreds of pilgrims on the Camino per day. This shortage (or perceived threat of shortage) created a rat race culture on the Camino; pilgrims would wake up at ungodly hours in the morning and rush to the next albergue to ensure they got a good bed, and after 3PM I was lucky if I was to come across a pilgrim on the trail. While the Camino Portuguese had more of a laid back atmosphere, we rarely booked beds in advance, were in bed by 10PM, or out of bed by 8AM, the Camino Frances had a somewhat militant structure. The accommodation created a culture on the Camino Frances that to me, was all to similar to the culture than many pilgrims were trying to and needed to get away from in their daily lives. At home, many have a fairly strict schedule leaving little room for the unknown, and on the Camino with morning wake up, departure, and arrival times strictly planned out, many pilgrims were allowed to continue on with their habitual routines, allowing the Camino to pass under their feet in a haze.

My first stay in an albergue on the Camino Frances, I would be irritatingly woken up at 4:30 AM by the “bag rustlers” shining their lights and packing up to head out for the day, falling back asleep I would be rudely awoken at 7:30AM by the receptionist and informed that all pilgrims must be out of the albergue by 8 AM! This I had most definitely not signed up for. I am not a morning person so I was pretty peeved to learn that on my vacation I would have start setting an alarm. As I made no move to get out of bed calculating I could sleep for another 20 minutes and make it out by 8, the clearly thought otherwise as she looked dubiously at my belongings that were strewn on top of my bag. What she didn’t know that my bag was similar to a children’s puzzle, and while it may look like it would take a bit of time to put together to someone who hadn’t seen the picture on the puzzle box,  I could put my bag together in about 5 minutes.

The number of pilgrims on the Camino France route and resultant culture was so overwhelming, that after a few days on the trail some pilgrims would hop a bus and start down a different route to Santiago such as the Camino del Norte or the Via de la Plata. If you’re looking for a quiet enjoyable hike that may be a fine thing to do, but if you are doing a pilgrimage it is important to trust that everything on the Camino is exactly as it should be for your journey. For myself although there would be some growing pains and grumpy early mornings as I got used to the Camino Frances, I knew that if I was mindful enough there were lessons one could learn that could only be taught through crossing paths with 100’s of pilgrims everyday on the path. As I worked to change my perspective of the number of pilgrims on the Camino from negative to positive, I realized that the growing number of pilgrims in recent years was a reflection of our modern lives. With internet we find ourselves interconnected with more and more people than ever before, with social media we may interact with 100’s or 1000’s of people a day when pre-internet we would be lucky to talk to 20 people a day. It was only fitting that the Camino had changed over the years to mirror this. Much like the Camino, in our lives we can choose to distance ourselves from others and try to hack it on our own, or we can use the increased interconnectedness to our advantage.

On the Camino Portuguese I had learned not to rush from point A to point B, and the Camino Frances tested this as I tried not to worry about arriving to albergues early enough to ensure a bed. It was a practice in releasing control and having faith that everything would work out, something easier said than done. Luckily, I had brought an air mattress, so I knew if worst came to worst I could sleep on a floor or outside, and with this backup I was able to step away from the bed races and hike the Camino on my time. As it would turn out, despite some late arrivals after 6PM, I always managed to find a bed! I would end up using my air mattress to camp out some nights, but that was a result of deciding I would camp when I set out that day, not due being turned away at albergues. It was amazing how having a little faith could reduce so much of the stress and worry that many pilgrims had on the trail. Once I stepped out of the Camino rat race, I had very little worries and my Camino experience would transform for the better in other ways as well.

While many pilgrims on the trail could be heard complaining about the sheer mass of people on a narrow trail (especially after Sarria, the 200 km point and last place to start the Camino to receive a compastella). As I was hiking in the reverse direction, if anyone was going to have a right to have an annoyance at the number of pilgrims on the trail it would be me but I was having a completely different experience! Though I had to leave most albergues by 8AM, I would usually only hike to the nearest cafe to get a tea, only really starting on the Camino by 9AM and being out of the bed races meant I could hike well into the afternoon, often stopping between 5 and 6PM. While I would pass many pilgrims in the morning, often getting weary of the pilgrim’s greeting on the trail when passing of “Buen Camino” as going in reverse I passed every single pilgrim, after 12PM pilgrims on the trail tapered off significantly. By 2PM I often found myself hiking in solitude for hours, enjoying the mild May temperatures and beautiful scenery in complete silence. One didn’t need to uproot and head to Santiago on a completely different route to find solitude, all one really needed to do was change their approach and one could find all the solitude in the world on the Camino Frances.

Potential pilgrims often find themselves turned off of doing the Camino Frances route because of the numbers and stories that circulate the internet. For myself, the Camino Frances was exactly as it needed to be for me to learn what I was supposed to learn on it. It is challenging to maintain mindfulness on the modern Camino Frances, more so than quieter routes such as the Camino Portuguese, but not in a bad way.  If one can learn to maintain mindfulness on the Camino Frances, they will be better prepared to maintain that mindfulness as they return to the hustle and bustle of their homes. For some it may be too overwhelming to start on the Camino Frances and like myself it may be better to start on a quieter route before heading down the Camino Frances, but I strongly recommend not to completely discount it based on the number of pilgrims walking it. Even if it is not clearly describable why, there is a reason it was in medieval times and still is the most traveled pilgrimage route and the Camino Frances will always be a special experience whether there are 1, 1000, or 100 000 pilgrims on the way.

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It’s Not the Destination

Although Santiago was never my end point, as I neared Santiago I started to think about what might await me at my destination, that something might await me at my destination. Millions of pilgrims had traveled for 100’s of miles for 100’s of years to Santiago, there must be something spectacular at the end that people continue to make the journey. I knew inherently, that anything I expected to happen would not happen. Traveling to new places taught me that very quickly, things would never turn out as I expected them to. Sometimes for the good, sometimes for the bad. Regardless that didn’t stop me from thinking about what might happen when I got there. While many Pilgrims that I talked to who had already made the journey once said that it was often a let down (if I had actually bothered to finish watching the movie “The Way” I would know that), still there was the odd story of pilgrims who upon arrival burst into uncontrollable tears, experienced bliss beyond their wildest dreams, or had a spiritual awakening. I thought since I had done all this spiritual work in Peru and India beforehand, I would be a shoe-in if any pilgrim was to be chosen to have a strong experience upon viewing the Cathedral. I was very wrong.

My arrival into Santiago was about as anticlimactic as it could be. The last 20 km started on enjoyable natural pathways, but as with all urban centers on the Camino, the path quickly turned to asphalt and trudging along the shoulders of busy roadways. There was very much an upside though, the path into Santiago was on an enjoyable gentle down-slope, with one final uphill push as you neared the cathedral. The day was grey and dreary, and as was within a few km of my final destination for the day, it started to rain! I can’r remember if it was just plain hardheadedness or for some unknown spiritual reason, but instead of stopping to take my raincoat out my bag I plodded on unimpeded, rain slowly soaking through my cotton sweatshirt. Needless to day, I arrived at the cathedral cold and sopping wet. To add even more to the anticlimacticism, upon my arrival at the cathedral I was quickly turned away at the door, no one was allowed inside with a bag. Maybe a way to avert terrorism or theft, but I think it had more to do with getting pilgrims to go to their hostel and and showered before showing up. As a pilgrim we had all grown accustomed to the musty smell of sweat and body odor that took on not only us but our bags as well, deodorant long ago used up or abandoned in hopes of reducing weight, and though we no longer recognized it, the smell was often found offensive by the general public.

 It would turn out that the most climatic event of my arrival into Santiago would be my accommodation for the three nights I would be there. Tipped off by a fellow pilgrim along the way I had called and booked a room at the San Marinto, a beautiful monastery converted into a hotel adjacent to the Cathedral. With regular rooms ran upwards of 100 Euro, I learned one could book a special “pilgrim room” which for 30 euro included a buffet breakfast, a private room, and one’s own shower! Though the room was small and basic compared to the ones I had seen on the website, it did little to ebb the ecstatic feeling of finally being in a private room! It was the first time I had been in a private room since India, and the first thing I did was there my bag on the chair, stripped down and just lied in bed. Seeing the Cathedral could wait, as for someone who regularly sleeps sans pyjamas, being able to strip down after weeks of sleeping in the confinement of clothes was nearly enough to bring me to the tears of happiness that pilgrims of legend had upon entering the cathedral.

The next day after gorging on the buffet breakfast and obtaining my pilgrim credential (I would somehow be blessed with only three people ahead of me in line at 9Am, other days at this time the line would extend out the building and require a wait of hours) I saw a sign in English for a meeting called “Camino Companions,” a time to reflect with other pilgrims about the journey. Eager to discuss with others their thoughts upon completion of the pilgrimage (and the sign promised free tea and cookies!) , I attended the meeting that afternoon. Run by a order of Irish nuns, we were given a few questions about our pilgrimage to reflect on and then discuss as a group including why we had walked the Camino, what was the most difficult part, and what was a significant moment. It had been easy in the excitement of reaching Santiago, and the subsequent disappointment upon arrival to forget everything I had learned in the four weeks it took me to reach there. Sitting down and reflecting with the Camino Companions and fellow pilgrims reminded me how much I had learned along the trail.

In the four short weeks it had taken me to reach Santiago from Lisbon, I had increased my present moment awareness tenfold, more so than mediation in India and ayahuasca in Peru had. I had begun to observe how what I surround myself with affects my thoughts, and how my thoughts affect me physically, while also making lifelong friends along the way! I realized that the actual city and Cathedral of Santiago had very little to do ones spiritual grown on the Camino. Other than providing a direction to walk, a place to stop (or one might cont me walking forever), and the opportunity to receive a piece of paper stating how far one walked to show their friends, reaching Santiago was not the point of the Camino. Though the remains of Saint James could be viewed there, kneeling down before them did not bring one any closer to him even if they had walked 10, 500, or 2000 km to get there. Saint James was present during every step on the Camino, if one took the time to look.

I still couldn’t shake the idea that something miraculous should happen in Santiago, and on my final day I found myself wandering around the city aimlessly, trying to let my feet guide me to something I might have missed. I wandered in and out of the many old churches throughout the city, appreciating the 500+ year old architecture at a level only someone who grew up in an area where the oldest building was only around 100 years old could. As I strolled through an open garden I found myself looking to the hills of Galicia on the horizon, and in my heart grew that familiar feeling, the itch to be back on the trail. I didn’t know what I was looking to find or where I would find it, but I knew it would not be found within the stone walls of Santiago. The Camino beckoned me onward, I still had almost 800 km before I would cross the Pyrenees and reach my end point at St Jean Pied de Port in France. Though it’s not the destination but the journey that would be the truly exciting part.

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I Have No Idea What I Am Doing

Three days before my planned start date, I figured it was as good of time as any to crack open the guidebook I had carried with me for the past three months to see what this Camino business was all about. I was lucky, had I opened the guidebook any sooner than 3 days before starting, I probably would’ve talked myself out of going.

Now I am not much of a hiker to begin with, and can actually count the number of true hikes I have been on with one hand. I prefer a bit faster method of transportation, either horseback or cycling, and though I had a fairly good idea of how many kilometres I could cycle a day, I had no idea how what was a doable daily walking distance with a large backpack. The first leg of my Camino from Lisbon to Santiago in total would be just over 600km, which the guidebook had divided into 23 days of walking, around 25 km each day. The first few days of walking were close to or over 30 km in length. Taking into consideration that I knew I could cycle 30 km in a couple hours, it seemed reasonable that I could hike 30 km in 8+ hours, and I even began to plan a little bit how I could get to Santiago in 21 days instead of the guidebook recommended 23.

The guidebook also recommended to carry about 10% of your body weight, with an aboslute maximum of 10 kg. I had dumped a fair bit of stuff with my sister when we met up in Spain, and when I had my final bag weigh at the airport to fly to Lisbon it was 13 kg. Really, how much could 3 kg (closer to 5 with food and water) matter I thought, dismissing my knowledge that in horse racing every pound can slow down a horse significantly, and that’s over a distance that is 1/30th of what I would be walking. As I was sitting contemplating the weight of my pack, a flash of brilliance came to my mind. The guidebook said 10% of your body weight… Soooo, if I just gained some weight in the coming days it could be within the recommendation value. Though I quickly dismissed this flash of “brilliance” as idiotic when some quick mental math revealed I would need to double my body weight for my pack to be close to 10% (not to mention the fact that the additional body weight would only add to the problem). Regardless, I went to McDonalds that night and bought a McFlurry.

The first day I began my Camino was with a 28 km leg, with literally no places between to stop and sleep if I so desired, unless I was willing to spend my first night stealth camping in the industrial o and somewhat sketchy outskirts of Lisbon. With my previously mentioned estimation of my hiking ability and speed, I didn’t see the need to start off from the Lisbon Cathedral until around 10AM. Walking the Camino was part of my “holiday,” and I have a thing about not setting an alarm or getting up before I want to when I am on holiday. Just before stopping for lunch I caught a glimpse of another pilgrim, and the Camino app I had downloaded had kilometre tracking which said I had walked about 14km so I figured I was making really good time! I would soon realise that the app had a major bug, that resulted in its tracking overestimating the traveled distance by almost double! By the time 6PM rolled around I was sore and exhausted, and google maps indicated I still had 5km to go! Those last 5 km might as well have been 100 km for as long as it felt it took me to finish them. It was getting dark as I neared the hostel, two cars stopped to ask if I needed a ride, but I was determined to finish the day. I rolled into the hostel at 8:30PM, just as the other pilgrim I glimpsed earlier in the day was checking in. We both had severely underestimated how long that day was going to take.. She was a bit better off though, as her backpack was only 9 kg!

The next day was another 28 km day, and seeing as I clearly did not learn any lessons on my first day, I started out only marginally earlier at 9:30AM (to my defence I did beat the other pilgrim out)! The day would prove even more challenging than the previous day as a) I had a lot less energy and my muscles were a lot more sore than my first day, and b)it decided to pour rain the entire day. I quickly found out that my “waterproof” hiking boots were not waterproof at all, and should have been labelled as water absorbent for how wet my feet were in a matter of minutes. This slowed down my walking considerably. It seemed that the day was taking a toll on other pilgrims as well, in the afternoon at a remote train station, as I searched for a bathroom I crossed paths with an Australian pilgrim who was calling it quits for the day and taking a train to the next town. I was determined to walk the whole thing and could not be swayed into hopping on the train, though if it had been a few hours later in the day I probably would have! Funnily I would run into this pilgrim a few days later and end up hiking almost the entire way to Santiago (at times unwillingly) with them.

 At 6PM I arrived into a small town 6km before the next hostel in the guidebook. Soaked, exhausted and starving, I stopped at the first restaurant. Knowing that another 6 km would take at least two hours, before I decided to order I asked in my broken Spanish (close enough to Portuguese right?) if there was a hostel in the town as the guidebook did not have one listed. They pointed across the street and from what I could understand, told me the third building down had rooms. With that knowledge I settled in for a meal and a hot tea. After an hour I had built up enough energy to walk to the other side of the road and find the hostel, but to my dismay it didn’t exist!! In hindsight I realised that they may have been giving me directions to the other restaurant not a hostel, but why they would tell me where their competitors were I don’t quite understand. Getting a bit desperate as at that point there was no way I would be walking another 6 km, I began to ask people on the street if there was somewhere to stay in the town. I would finally have a bit of luck on my side that day, as one person I asked ended up having keys to the community hall. Though it didn’t have a bed or shower it was shelter, and I got to test out my immensely heavy -7 sleeping bag and thermarest ground mat that were taking up most of the space and weight in my bag! I had quickly learned two important things in my first two days on the Camino, 1) there was no way I would be hiking 30 km every day, and 2) only stop in towns that have at least two hostels listed in the guidebook! I quickly changed my attitude about getting to Santiago in 21 days, and in the end it would actually end up taking me 27 days!

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Age is Just a Number

When I was planning on taking this year off to travel the world, a few things indicated to me that I needed to do it sooner or later if I was to accomplish anything in my life. Albert Einstein had achieved his greatest discoveries at the age of 24, I remembered reading an article stating that if people that were more successful in their lives had achieved this success early on, that neurologically ones brain decreased it’s overall capacity as one left their twenties, and then there was the astrological “return of Saturn” that happens around when someone turns 28 which is supposed to be when they can make great changes in their lives.  Now I can’t attest that these were reliable sources that I obtained this information from, regardless I felt since I had yet to accomplish anything at 27, I was most definitely headed for a life of mediocrity if I didn’t make a big change soon.

Just before I left for Spain, I decided to do alittle more digging into the person that inspired this stop: Paulo Coehlo. I knew that he had hiked the Camino and that while walking it he had a spiritual awakening, which would lead him to his career in writing writing the worldwide bestselling book The Alchemist just two years after walking the Camino. What I didn’t know was that he had hiked the Camino at age 39! It wasn’t until he was 41 that he even published a book, then becoming a best selling author. Turns out my idea that anyone over 30 that hadn’t found their dream was destined for mediocrity was very, very incorrect. It was something I needed to believe at the time to make me push forward and actually follow through with this trip. In reality age is just a number, anyone at any time in their life can make a big change, chasing their dreams, searching for passion and meaning in their life. Recently I saw a video on Facebook outlining the lives of some well known celebrities like Oprah and Morgan Freeman, and how they failed numerous times before achieving success in their fields later in life.

Now, as I say that age is just a number and anyone at any time in their life can decide to go off in search of their passion and dreams, there will always be those who argue the opposite. This happens a lot of times when I describe my trip to people, they say “Oh I wish I was young and I could do something like that, but I can’t because of this, this, this,  and this…” or “do it now, as you won’t be able to later.” In the words of Henry Ford, “If you think you can or you can’t, either way you are correct.” Going off in search of passion and dreams is not easy for anyone at any age, it just may require a different set of sacrifices for a 27 vs 40 year old, and it won’t necessarily involve a year off like mine. I do think with age is does become harder mentally to seek this change, as by then the brain is comfortable in more routines and structures. I’ve heard people use the excuse that they can’t change now as they’ve spent the last 15 or so years working the same job, it would be a waste of that time they have invested. What’s more of a waste, is wasting any more time on it if it is not something you love to do. Then comes the excuse of kids… I’m of the opinion that a kid will grow up a more successful and functioning adult being raised by parents who are happy and fulfilled, rather than if they are sent to private schools, expensive sports training and classes while the parents sacrifice their happiness and wellbeing to pay for these things. I was lucky to be raised by parents that loved what they did for work. As kids we never got the latest and greatest of anything; younger me probably saw this as a huge travesty, but as an adult I’m glad my parents raised us this way. For every excuse someone gives me that they think “stops” them from being able to pursue their passion, I’m certain I can find someone with the same limitation who made it work. I remember reading something a long time ago that stuck with me, saying that if you were given the opportunity to switch lives with anyone in the world, no matter how rich, successful, or happy you may think them to be, if you actually knew about all the challenges people faced in their life, you would never choose to switch lives, and would choose to keep your own life with its difficulties and challenges. The moral of the story, everyone has to face their own challenges, and you can either play victim thinking how you can’t accomplish anything as everyone else somehow has it easier than your situation, or you can take control and realise that you have the power to face your challenges and achieve anything. But one has to have courage to do so, it is easier for people to play the victum and give up on their dreams before even starting, as it means they will never face the risk of failure and heartbreak. Deciding to go on a quest to change ones life is a scary business, what is even scarier is the potential of putting all the effort and sacrifice into that quest and having nothing change. One has to be willing to take that risk, or spend their lives talking about what could have been…

As I hiked the Camino, it further installed this knowledge that anyone at any age at any time can seek to change their lives. I was mildly surprised to find that the majority of the walkers were middle aged or older (and frankly, they were able to well out-walk me by miles!). Wikipedia describes a pilgrimage such as the Camino as “a journey or search of moral or spiritual significance,” and whether it was their prime intention or not, those that had sacrificed a month of their time and home comforts to hike hundreds of miles on the Camino were on a pilgrimage to change some aspect of their lives. On my way I met a few people who were hiking the Camino for a second or third time. When I asked why, some told me that walking the the Camino before had significantly changed their lives, and while others were less sure how it impacted them, they found themselves drawn back to hike it yet again.

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