Magic of the Camino

By Amanda McKenna

I'm an everyday person. In 2012 I walked across northern Spain along the St James camino. An amazing amount of serendipitous events filled my walk as I linked with the unseen world to guide my steps.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483555140

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Magic of the Camino

One woman’s walk across Spain

My simple words are only a window to the ‘magic of the camino’. The story is my own. My experiences, like those of other pilgrims are unique. Each person must discover for themselves what it is they wish to gain from this walk. Experiences may be physical, emotional or deeply spiritual. To discover the way is to discover yourself and to complete this walk is an unforgettable experience.

WHY CAMINO

I’ve always liked walking in the bush, even as a little girl. I would have loved to go camping lots but didn’t get the chance. As an adult my husband and I and our two boys went for short walks in the local national park. While we still lived in Perth I heard of the Great Walk. This captured my interest. Later I found out that it started with a group of people walking from Albany to Perth along the 400 kilometre Bibbulmun track. I loved the idea of people from different walks of life coming together to go on long walks over country. Soon after my family shifted down south. We had our own walk around our extended block and the lovely beaches. Sometimes we walked over snakes but not often. Mostly it was just being among the trees and shrubs with the birds flying in and out, the occasional kangaroo hopping by that caught my heart. I found connections to the Great Walk down south but it was just too hard to organise.

One of the questions that was commonly asked by other peregrinos on the walk was, How did you know about the walk? The first time I remember hearing about the walk was the thirty-first of August 1998. I’ll never forget that date because it was the day Princess Diana passed away. I was chatting with a small group during a circle dance workshop in Perth. One older lady looked familiar and I began a conversation with her to see if we had common ground. It didn’t look likely from her side then she paused and said, Did I see you on the camino? I shook my head and asked what the camino was. She gave me a brief explanation about a walk across Spain with its own passport and shell symbol. Before I thought pilgrimages were for the serious religious people. Now I had my ear out for walks and pilgrimages both. The seed had been planted. I was keen to go on a long walk at that stage. It only took me fourteen years to finally achieve my dream.

Camino books came my way. The first was by two journalists that happened upon the camino unprepared in the early naughties. A twenty year old female and a forty something guy. It was like a conversation. They wrote sections each from their own point of view. It felt real. Then I read another Australian woman’s account of her pilgrimage in the naughties called, ‘The Way of the Heart.’ The title appealed to me. I took notes this time. I had made the decision to go. I didn’t know how I would do it. I finally read Shirley MacLaine’s book and was fascinated with parts she had channelled.

The camino was a huge event for me. Never in my life had I been on my own for more than a week let alone for six weeks. At first I was hopeful of some company to go with. A friend of mine said she was keen then went and recruited a whole group of fellow walkers. I was alarmed. A friend was good but I thought a group was a nightmare in waiting. Luckily I went solo because I needed to start earlier and intended to go on the Way of St James, the most used walk. She went with her group on the Norte route. It ended up being a nightmare. Their leader set a gruelling pace of 30 kms a day. Many albergues were not open and they had to walk long distances on the hard, road surfaces. This did their knees in. Her group fell apart. My friend and one other left for the sunny south. Only one made it, the determined leader.

The gift of my camino came about through my wonderful nan. On her passing she left me a few thousand dollars. It was a treasure for me that I kept intact. It was sacred money only to be spent on my faerie stories that I’d written and my camino. The money came through in 2008. But the timing wasn’t right. My husband and I decided to sell the house and downsize, as we had little superannuation. It took us a year to put the house on the market then it didn’t sell. My walk kept being pushed further and further away. At the end of 2011 I decided to go no matter what the following year. My friend was going at the beginning of 2012 so I started preparing for northern spring in 2012. I did my preparation and checked out the weather for the last 10 years. The time of year I was planning to go could get a little cold at night with very few rainy days. It looked good. Little did I know then that it would be by far the worst weather northern Spain had in over fifty years!

I started cruising the web for information. Not an easy task for me. I came across a great web site www.csj.org that had the history, maps and chat sights where one could ask questions and fellow peregrinos would answer.

At this point I would like to explain. I am writing this section and others throughout the story in italics to differentiate them from the main text. This section I call the unseen as it relates directly to my thoughts, feelings and spiritual experiences. What made this site special for me was that it talked about the sacred side of the walk. A walk that had been going for a thousand years, filled with spiritual energy from the tens of thousands of fellow pilgrims. Pilgrims are referred to as peregrino’s. Technically I was a peregrina- female. It was this spiritual aspect that excited me the most.

But first let me tell you of the practical things. I fortunately connected to two Perth based pereginas and they freely gave me advice on what to take and expect. Things like what size backpack to take? (40kg) How many layers of socks do I wear? (Two-one thick outer and one thin inner.) The best way to prevent blisters? Puncture with needle and thread. Do I need a sleeping bag? (Yes because it was spring and could be 5 degrees at night. Plus many places only supply a mattress and pillow, no rugs.) I also bought an inner liner that was great because if it was hot I just slept in it. On my camino it was always cold outside but sleeping in one tiny room with lots of people, it got hot!

My travel expenses to get to and from Spain were more than the money I used for the six weeks of walking the camino. It was easy to get plane tickets and insurance from the travel agencies, but buying a rail ticket proved more difficult. At first I battled with the Spanish rail service trying to buy a train ticket from Barcelona on the Mediterranean to Pamplona in the north east of Spain. This was my starting point. Renfe is the name of the Spanish rail service. The site had an easy conversion to English but nothing else was easy. I spent hours following the site but no matter what I did I couldn’t buy a ticket. Then magically I found myself on an English site that sold Spanish rail tickets and I was able to book a ticket 30% cheaper than I would have paid on the Spanish site. I was still in the process of trying to work out if I could pay by check when a friend said he’d help me. Within minutes on his iphone he got a site, booked a ticket and paid for it. Something I had been trying to do for weeks. Unfortunately I missed out on the discount and I paid $100. It certainly helps if your technologically savvy.

Also I was cruising the internet for cheap accommodation for two nights in Pamplona as I needed time to get over jet lag and let my 52 year old body adjust. I found a place called the Hotel Eslava. Again I got stuck on how to pay. By this stage I had a debit card so I could pay on line but the site was asking for a ccv number. I’d never heard of it before. What the? Here we go again. Fortunately a picture of a lady’s head popped up and the type underneath asked if they could be of assistance. This was wonderful . She sorted out my problem and off I went. Other sites where I bought clothing for the trip also had the lovely virtual assistants. I bought all my stuff from Australian sites. Its funny that I wanted to buy bright, colourful clothing but what I found for a good price ended up being all muted forest colours.

My toiletries bag was a mini pharmacy. A friend had told me to buy small screw top containers. I could’nt find anywhere that sold small, empty containers. So I went to a bargain shop and found the containers I wanted full of a cheap cream. Cleaned them out and Bob’s your uncle. Perfect for hand cream, sunscreen, deep heat and insect repellent. Didn’t end up using the sunscreen because I hardly saw the sun but used the hand cream on my feet each night and the deep heat on my legs. I was lucky, no mozzies!

My mother’s friend Sandra had been on the camino recently and was one of the people who gave me advice. I was interested to know what sort of training she had done before the walk. She told me that she ran up and down Jacobs Ladder for about an hour. This is a spiral staircase several metres high. She did it at least two or three times a week with a back pack on of course. I wasn’t that keen for such intensive training. I planned a four week programme starting with one hour walks each day building up to three hour walks on the last week, with a four kilo backpack, including half an hour hill climbs. On the second last week I got up to walking at least four days for two hours with a backpack. It was summer and it was full on at work teaching dance. I was exhausted. And I hadn’t even started my camino. I decided to go back to my one hour walks with half hour hill climbs and build up my time over the first few days of my camino.

I was excited when my guidebook arrived. It was the English version by John Brierly. So glad I had that book as other foreign language guidebooks were found wanting by peregrinos. Misleading information or limited information abounded.

What a challenge it was to find a 40kg backpack. One could get 55kg + or > 35kg easily but not the size I wanted. I ended up buying a backpack designed for a laptop. It had a netted frame between the pack and my back that kept the airflow and made the load feel lighter. The weather wasn’t hot so I didn’t need the airflow so it came in handy for stuffing in my jacket. I developed a technique of taking off my jacket and stuffing it into the frame without taking my bag off!

I made a list for potential needs under three headings: clothes/ toiletries/ things. You can read what I took in Appendix A. By the first week of the walk I had the packing down to a tee. I stopped trying to stuff my sleeping bag into its tiny pouch and rolled it up and placed it on the bottom of the pack instead. I then placed my rolled up clothes on top of it. At the side of the clothes I squeezed a small bag filled with undies and socks. On top of the clothes went the toiletries bag and my food rations encased in another bags. I found mini bags very useful. My laptop section had my thongs, pencil case with bits and pieces, sun hat and sunnies. I kept the hat and sunnies for easy access ever hopeful of sunny weather. A thin inner pocket near the frame had my large notebook, square of bubble wrap for sitting on ( that I threw out ) and my rain poncho. My side pockets were for one litre water bottles. In my waist belt were two tiny pouches for my energy food that ended up being those wonderful Spanish lollies.

I strongly believe that in order to get the most out of the camino, one needs to open one’s heart to the unseen way, to the way of spirit. To prepare spiritually prior to the walk I regularly meditated and opened my heart and mind to all possibilities. I regularly sat in the bush on my block and joined with the trees. I would wrap my arms around a tree trunk, imagine I was part of the tree and focus on my breath. I also did regular chi breathing with a tree. I would stand next to a tree with my hands either side of it. Then I imagined my breath coming from my feet up through my body and out the top of my head. My breath would travel across to the tree, down its trunk and into its roots then across to my feet. I strongly recommend this as it always gives me a great sense of calm and strength.

TRIP TO SPAIN

It took 43 hours from me leaving the airport at Albany, Western Australia, to arriving in Pamplona. I didn’t sleep for two days. I had to wait for six hours in Perth for my international flight. Then three hours in Singapore’s lovely airport. What a delight. Free internet, showers, massage etc. plus a prayer room. I found the prayer room tucked away. I only saw two pairs of men’s shoes at the door when I got there. It was the middle of the night so I chickened out and didn’t go in. I found sanctuary in the butterfly enclosure as it was peaceful and away from the bustle.

When I arrived in Spain at Barcelona airport one of the worst things happened. I waited at the baggage area for my backpack. It went around three times then it started to slow. Still no backpack. I walked the entire baggage travelator. No bag. My mind raced. I had spent so much time planning my accessories. Keeping the weight down. And now I was left with what I was standing in. One set of clothes, my boots thank heavens and my documents. At least I had my money. I went through my mind on what I needed. I have looked at my prep list so many times I nearly knew it by heart. I had got things from all over. My local area, my state, from interstate and o/s. My contingency plan was to find a camping shop and shopping plaza and go from there. I was thinking, What does this mean? Loosing everything before I even start.

After freaking out I looked for a sign to help. Luckily right next to the baggage travelator was a sign Lost baggage in English. My hopes were raised as I waited in line. When they did the search nothing was found. Down I spiralled again but not so far. I did after all have a plan. The assistant suggested to look in the unusual luggage item pile that was only twenty steps away. The pile was small. I could see a collapsed pram and other items but not my bag. It wasn’t until I was on top of the pile and still no bag did I start to rummage through. My heart leapt as I saw my very squashed, multiple wrapped backpack. It was a strange sight. My husband had been so worried about someone tampering with my luggage that he had created an ugly piece of art. Some airline helper must have thought it was so precious wrapped like that he/ she thoughtfully put it through special luggage. It was a beautiful thing unwrapping the layers of my ugly piece of art. My precious bag was finally on my back.

I followed the signs at the airport to the train commuter bus. Went the wrong way even with lots of signs and had to back track. There were about two hundred of us standing behind the yellow dotted line running through the middle of the train platform. When the train pulled up I understood why. There were at least another two hundred people needing to get off the train. Half way into the journey into Barcelona a trio of musicians started to play. It was a happy atmosphere. They kept looking over their shoulders for the police.

It is a daunting experience arriving in a strange place following the crowd and hoping to end up in the right place. Sant Estation is a major rail hub with several local and interstate lines. Where to go? I had a piece of paper from the internet that my friend had booked for me for Pamplona first class. It didn’t look like a ticket. I had already lined up at the airport train station to get a proper ticket only to be shooed away. I lined up at a likely looking desk to be told that I only needed my piece of paper. Even though I had been told this, I still didn’t feel confident that I would be allowed on board. I had used an hour getting to Sant, I only had another five to wait.