WALK: Jamie Bacon's Secret Mission on the Camino de Santiago

By Esther Jantzen

Jamie Bacon is angry that his parents are making him walk 500 miles in Spain as part of their home-schooling plan. He's especially disapp

• Language: English
• Publisher: JantzenBooks
• Release date: Sep 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733543927

Esther Jantzen

Esther Jantzen, Ed.D, a teacher and writer, is currently living a nomadic lifestyle by house sitting in communities in the US and England. However, during the Covid-19 pandemic, she's sheltered-in-place in Albuquerque, New Mexico. In September 2020, she published a middle-grade (age 9-13) travel adventure novel set in Northern Spain—Walk: Jamie Bacon’s Secret Mission on the Camino de Santiago. It's a tale about the missteps, adventures, and heroism of a young American boy who walks the 500-mile pilgrimage with his home-schooling family. This book is one of the very few Camino books for kids, and she wrote it to fill that hole. It is also a book many adults have enjoyed, and is available in paperback, too. Esther's interests include the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage, contemporary geomancy, Elizabethan England, spiritual practice, the arts, and photography. She’s a flexible traveler, enthusiastic about both solo and companion adventures. She can be reached via her website, estherjantzen (at) gmail (dot) com.

Book preview

Other Books by Esther Jantzen

2006

Way to Go! Family Learning Journal

(out of print)

2009

Plus It! How to Easily Turn Everyday Activities

into Learning Adventures for Kids

(paperback)

2018

Happy Without a Home:

Advice from a House-Sitting Nomad

(e-book revision pending)

For Rowan Glenn, Colin Glenn,

& Chris Hindle

Contents

DEDICATION

OTHER BOOKS BY ESTHER JANTZEN

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

1. Leaving Ordinary

2. A Whirl of New

3. The Pilgrim Office

PART TWO

4. ST.-JEAN-PIED-DE-PORT: Jamie’s Secret

5. THE PYRENEES: Mountains of Challenge

6. THE PYRENEES: William III & Napoleon

7. THE ROLAND FOUNTAIN: Marley & the Outburst

8. RONCESVALLES: Roland & Charlemagne

9. PAMPLONA: Crazy Simon & the Rig

10. ALTO DEL PERDÓN: Jamie’s Penance

11. EUNATE: Templars & Stonemasons

12. PUENTE LA REINA: Marley’s Message

13. MONJARDÍN: From the Top of the World

14. VIANA: The Running of the Bulls

15. LOGROÑO: Santiago the Warrior

16. LOGROÑO: Marley Again

17. SANTO DOMINGO DE LA CALZADA: The Engineer

18. SANTO DOMINGO DE LA CALZADA: The Chicken Feather

19. TOSANTOS: The Secret Sacred Cave

20. ATAPUERCA: A Blast from the Past

21. BURGOS: El Cid & His Horse

22. BURGOS: Finding Santi

23. MESETA: The Great Bus Debate

24. LEÓN: The Plot

25. LEÓN: The Parade

26. HOSPITAL DE ÓRBIGO: Don Suero’s Bridge

27. ASTORGA: The Betrayal

28. CRUZ DE FERRO: What Will You Leave Behind?

29. SOMEWHERE IN MOUNTAINS: Lost

30. PONFERRADA: The Castle & the Revelation

31. SAMOS: The Dog & the Cows

PART THREE

32. SARRIA: The Last 100 Kilometers

33. GONZAR: The Church Bell

34. GONZAR: The Miracle

35 MONTE DO GOZO: The Pulpo & the Entry

36. SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA: The Cathedral

37 SANTIAGO: The End & the Beginning

EXTRA STUFF

JAMIE’S TIMELINE

JAMIE’S GLOSSARY

ARCHITECTURE WORDS

SPANISH WORDS

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Prologue

[DON’T SKIP THIS!]

WHEN I WAS ELEVEN, Mom and Dad decided to home-school my sister and me. They took us out of regular school because they thought we would learn more by studying what interested us, and by traveling and doing projects. Mom was our main teacher. Dad helped out when he wasn’t at work. One day they got the idea to take us on a 500-mile walk in Spain as part of our education.

To tell the truth, I didn’t even know where Spain was. And when it turned out that Dad, who is an architect, had a bad situation at his office and couldn’t come with us, I fought with Mom to stay home with him. I didn’t want to go without Dad. I was scared and mad. But Mom, who’s sometimes strict and bossy, made me go anyway.

So we started this long pilgrimage called the Camino de Santiago. In English that means the road of St. James to the city of Santiago de Compostela. (Some Spanish towns have very long names. I got used to it.) People have been walking that path for about 1,200 years, believe it or not.

In case you don’t know, a pilgrimage is an old-fashioned idea, where people walk to a religious place for spiritual reasons. But you don’t have to be religious to go on one. It might be good if more people took pilgrimages nowadays, because it’s an easy way to learn about history and other subjects. Also, a benefit for me was that I was really strong when I got back, and more interested in academics.

Another thing I learned was to get along with Mom and Lily. What I learned about them is that they can change. That makes me think that all people can change. Which is a positive idea.

This experience was good for me because I learned to trust myself. I had to make hard choices on the Camino, like whether to adopt a puppy along the way and whether to keep a promise.

Something you should know before you start reading is that this trip was before we had smart phones or tablets, and there wasn’t wifi at many places. We used a paper guidebook to show us where to go, not a GPS or Google maps. Mom could email Dad from big tabletop computers at the albergues. (You’ll find out what albergues are in the book.) Lily and I sent him a couple postcards.

When I get older, I might walk the Camino again to see all the stuff I missed.

Sincerely,

Jamie Bacon

PS: When I told my aunt about the trip, she asked if she could use my story in a novel. I said she could. But she wasn’t along on my Camino, so everything in this book is fiction—the episodes and people, their words, and feelings. But I let her use my pictures and I wrote the captions. I hope you enjoy this story.

PART ONE

Leaving Ordinary

Chapter One

JAMIE BUCKLED HIS SEAT BELT in the huge jet and punched the armrest buttons. Nothing happened. Was there something wrong with the plane?

Jamie’s backpack, crammed with stuff he’d need for two months, was in the overhead compartment. But the pack of feelings in his belly agitated like clothes in a washing machine: a mixture of worry, anger, sadness, and unbearable excitement. He hoped he wouldn’t get airsick like he’d gotten seasick on a boat once. Vomit tasted awful.

Across the plane aisle, Mom and Lily settled into their seats. Jamie had no intention of joining their conversation. In the airport, Mom had said, Jamie, I know you’re still mad that Dad isn’t coming with us, but I wish you’d start being more cooperative. You’re going to find something special on this trip. You won’t be sorry.

How could she be so sure? Jamie thought. How did she know? What if they got lost? Or robbed? What if something really bad happened? What if they wouldn’t know what to do? And what if Dad got sick when they were away?

Jamie’s eyes stung for a second. He blinked to clear them and focused on the carpet designs on the floor. That’s when he saw polished black shoes in the aisle beside him. A man wearing black pants and a black shirt with a white collar stood waiting. Excuse me, I have the seat next to you. The man’s voice was kind, and he had an accent.

Jamie fumbled to undo his seatbelt and jumped up to let the man into the row. The man sat down, stowed a worn leather bag under the seat, buckled up, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Jamie glanced at his face—curly reddish-gray hair and sagging cheeks.

Lily leaned out of her seat and mouthed to Jamie, He’s a priest.

I know! Jamie mouthed back. Why did his sister always have to tell him stuff he already knew? She was two years older, but still.

Soon, a flight attendant stood in the aisle to talk about safety procedures in case their plane crashed. Jamie listened intently. When the huge metal body vibrated, hummed, revved, and charged down the runway, his stomach flipped with the liftoff jerk and the slight tip to the right. Finally the jet steadied and Jamie relaxed his fists and took a deep breath. Through the glass portholes beside the lucky passengers who had window seats, he glimpsed the sky, already streaked with sunset colors.

The man in black opened his eyes. Jamie wondered if he’d been praying. I’m Father Diego, he said, turning toward Jamie and extending his hand in a curved-around way because they sat so close.

My name is Jamie Bacon. He shook the man’s hand awkwardly.

The man paused. Hmm. Do you know we have the same name?

We do?

Yes, Diego is a Spanish variation for James, and Jamie is an English nickname for James, right?

Jamie didn’t know what to say. Diego didn’t sound anything like James. What was this man talking about?

Where are you going, Jamie?

Jamie straightened up to recite their itinerary. First we go to London. Then we change planes for France. And then we walk to Spain.

Spain? Father Diego’s eyes widened. That’s my home! What are you going to do there?

We’re walking to a famous place because a saint’s bones are buried there. Jamie shrugged because he didn’t remember the city’s name.

"Ahhh! Are you going on el Camino de Santiago?"

I think so. Jamie felt stupid. The Spanish words sounded different when this man said them.

Jamie, you’re in luck! Father Diego’s face lit up. "It’s a privilege to be a peregrino, a pilgrim, on the Way of St. James, as you call our Camino. I feel honored to have this seat beside you!"

Jamie wondered if the priest was making fun of him.

I hope you’re prepared for the unexpected, Father Diego chuckled, looking for the right word in English, for the unpredictable, on the Camino. Maybe even a few miracles.

Miracles? On a hike?

Father Diego didn’t answer right away. He gazed above the seats in front of them for so long that Jamie thought maybe he’d offended him. I’m…, Jamie started to apologize. But the priest turned back to him.

Do you know the story of our namesake, Saint James? Father Diego sounded like he was going to tell it, regardless of Jamie’s answer. It’s a famous legend.

Jamie took a quick breath. Mom said St. James was a preacher in Spain. He wanted Father Diego to think he knew the legend, but the truth was that he hadn’t paid attention when Mom explained about the pilgrimage.

Then Jamie noticed that Lily, across the aisle, was twisting in her seat, straining to hear his conversation. He knew he better be polite, even though Mom’s eyes were closed.

That’s my sister, Lily. He waved toward her with his hand. And this is Father Diego, he said to Lily. There—he’d done the introductions.

Father Diego nodded a welcome to include Lily and spoke louder. I understand you are going a very long way in Spain, he said. Are you planning to walk the whole Camino?

We hope so, said Lily, her blue eyes bright. Some people don’t make it to the end, but we will. I think.

Did you know that when Saint James went to Iberia, what we now call Spain, he didn’t fulfill his goal?

What do you mean? Lily said.

Father Diego didn’t answer, but pointed with his chin toward two flight attendants pushing a cart down the aisle, handing out supper trays. I’m hungry, he said. I’ll tell you about Saint James after we eat.

Jamie forgot his queasy stomach. He ate everything on his tray—chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, bread and butter, a piece of chocolate cake. Would this be his last normal meal? What was food like in Spain? Mom complained he was picky eater, but he couldn’t help it. He was born hating weird food.

This Spain trip plan started one Sunday in spring, Jamie remembered, when the family was driving to their Quaker meetinghouse. Lily had asked Dad a stupid question: Is Egypt still a real country? She was reading a book about Egyptian gods and goddesses.

It sure is real! Dad said. I’m surprised you don’t know that. You kids need to learn some geography and history. Traveling would sure help.

Well, Lily defended, countries change their names sometimes. Like Mesopotamia and Babylon are called something else now.

Good point, Dad admitted.

The next second, Mom jumped on Dad’s comment about traveling-to-learn. Okay, David, she said to Dad. I agree the kids need to learn more geography. Since we’re home-schooling them now, there’s nothing to stop us from traveling to Europe to experiment with ‘world-schooling’ them. We can afford it if we’re careful.

Mom took a quick, excited breath. I want to walk the famous Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain with them while they’re still young. It’s interested me for years!

Then she recited a list of school subjects. They’ll learn geography, history, art, architecture, more Spanish. We can work in math and literature and writing. They’ll be exposed to another culture and the outdoors. Wouldn’t it be fun? And great for them?

There was a long, vibrating silence in the car. Jamie wasn’t sure what it signaled. But when Dad turned and nodded at Mom, he saw his ordinary, happy, regular life whoosh right out the open window: gone was soccer season, hanging out with Robbie and Shaun and Derek, their fort in the woods, playing Nintendo, McDonald’s burgers.

All his favorite things gone.

And once Mom and Dad agreed, on that fateful Sunday, to walk the Camino as a family, they jumped into planning, making lists, buying supplies, and discussing expenses. At camping stores, Jamie and Lily picked out down-filled sleeping bags, clothes that dried fast, windbreakers, hiking boots, sturdy backpacks—the lightest-weight stuff they could find.

It was fun watching their trip gear collect on the living room couch. Jamie’s pile included the sleeping bag, two T-shirts, two pairs of pants, underwear, toothbrush, a small fast-drying towel, a notebook, a pen, a small camera, and a little whistle.

It was like planning an expedition. Mom warned this was a l-o-o-o-n-g walk, about 500 miles, and they’d carry everything in their packs. That’s what people did on the Camino pilgrimage.

No problem, Jamie thought back then. He was lanky and sturdy; he liked physical challenges. In order to train their bodies and break-in new boots, the family took hikes together on weekends. Jamie’s friends sometimes begged to come along and Dad let them.

The entire trip, Mom said, would be part of their home-schooling. Once we start walking, you and Lily can each decide what you want to do as a documentary project.

What’s that? Jamie asked.

It’s creating a record of our trip—a paper or graphic trail. It’ll help show what you’ve learned.

I’ll take pictures for my project, Jamie pronounced.

Good, Mom said. Lily is taking a sketch pad to draw scenes she likes. But you can be our photojournalist. You’re interested in buildings and monuments, like Dad.

Huh? Photojournalist?

But when September finally arrived, the whole plan changed. Dad had to back out of going to Spain because someone got fired at work and Dad was needed to fill in.

Jamie yelled at his parents, I’m not going if Dad doesn’t go! I don’t want to be the only guy. It’s not fair!

Wrong.

Mom shot back, Jamie, you’re a kid. Dad has to work out of town while we’re gone. You can’t stay home alone, so not going on this trip is not an option! Don’t even try. We’ve paid for the tickets. You have to come. Period.

Your mother is right, Dad said firmly.

Jamie stomped out of the kitchen, powerless. He thought of saying the ‘b’ word to Mom, but didn’t dare. Plus, some little part of him didn’t want to miss out on any adventures.

A Whirl of New

Chapter Two

AS THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS picked up the supper trays, Jamie glanced at the black night outside the jet’s windows. Other passengers plugged in earphones and watched movies on the overhead monitors or settled for sleep.

Lily stretched across the aisle, Father Diego, could you please tell us the St. James story now?

Father Diego nodded. The story starts a long time ago in a country far, far away. Jamie caught the Star Wars reference and grinned at the priest.

It happened about two-thousand years ago in the are a we now call Israel, Father Diego said. James was a disciple of Jesus. Reputedly, after the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, James went to Iberia, to the area we now call Spain. His mission was to tell people that Jesus had arisen from the dead. But the people he met weren’t interested. James got discouraged and decided to go back to the city of Jerusalem. That was a bad choice.

Why? Jamie said.

Because Herod and other leaders of Jerusalem were afraid James might stir up the citizens. So in 44 AD, Herod ordered that James be captured and beheaded.

Really? Really beheaded? Jamie said.

Yes. That’s what happened. And after he died, James’s friends wanted to honor his memory. According to legend, two of them put his body in a sarcophagus, a sort of stone coffin. They put that on a boat and sailed with it back to Iberia or Spain. They buried St. James there. Eventually his friends died, too, and were put to rest beside him. Weeds grew up around the grave site and soon it was forgotten.

Jamie gave a short laugh. Then how come people walk to his grave now?

Ah, to understand that we have to fast-forward our story about 800 years, Father Diego said. One night a man named Pelayo, a devout hermit who lived alone in the forest, saw a star pouring light down onto a particular spot. Mystified, he told the local bishop about it. Can you guess what happened then?

Jamie shook his head.

According to legend, the bishop dreamed that the star Pelayo saw was shining on the spot where the disciple James was buried. The bishop trusted that dream and ordered men to dig through the weeds. Sure enough, they uncovered the remains of three bodies—James and his two friends. Now, the bishop believed that James’ bones were sacred: people could seek cures and miracles from the relics of the apostle. Their town might become famous and rich! So they built a church right over the grave.

Is any of this true? Lily’s eyebrows arched.

Father Diego was quiet a moment. Good question, young lady. We don’t know how much is factual. We do know a church was built there and the town grew larger around it. We also know from historical records that when the first church burned down, a grander one was built. And when that second church was destroyed in battle, an extraordinarily beautiful cathedral was constructed in its place.

Father Diego gazed at the jet ceiling as if recalling a memory. That cathedral, built over the bones of the Apostle James, or Santiago as we call him in Spanish, is still one of the world’s great buildings. It’s like a magnet. It’s attracted millions of people who’ve walked to it for hundreds of years, ever since that grave was discovered.

Father Diego smiled. "Including me, and kings and queens, the good St. Francis, the Wife of Bath from the Canterbury Tales, and now, including even you if…, he hesitated, if you finish your Camino."

If? Did Father Diego think they were weak? Jamie thought of the map of Spain that Mom put on the refrigerator at home. A black dot labeled Santiago de Compostela was close to the blue of the Atlantic Ocean, but not right on the coast. It was a long way across the whole country.

Now I’ll tell you something that few people know. Father Diego lowered his voice to let them in on his secret. I believe St. James’s friends did take his body back to Iberia for burial. But there is also an ancient claim that his head, the skull, was buried in Jerusalem’s Old City. I’ve seen the spot. Father Diego shrugged. So perhaps only his body went to Iberia.

You mean the body and the skull were buried separately? Jamie asked. Could something like that happen?

Maybe. We’ll probably never know. History has many secrets hidden from us.

You mean, like how the pyramids were built? Lily said.

Exactly! That’s certainly still an historical secret. But there’s one other thing I want to make sure you understand since you don’t speak Spanish, Father Diego said. "In ancient Spanish, Sant means saint, Iago is another version of the name ‘James,’ and Compostela, scholars think, means ‘field of stars.’ So your pilgrimage will be to the city of Santiago de Compostela, which means St. James of the Field of Stars."

Just then the lights in the plane cabin dimmed. Father Diego joked, It looks like the captain wants us to catch a little sleep under our own field of stars right now, here high above the Atlantic Ocean. We’ll talk more in the morning, yes?

Jamie twisted in his upright seat, trying to get comfortable. Once in the night, he awakened long enough to realize his head was slumped against Father Diego’s shoulder. He straightened, embarrassed to be touching a stranger, and fell back to sleep.

It seemed only minutes before the cabin lights flickered on. Passengers stirred. Breakfast trays arrived. Jamie was hungry again and ate everything. Soon the pilot announced their plane’s approach to Heathrow Airport near London.

Jamie, Father Diego said, sipping coffee and speaking loudly enough so Lily and Mom could hear, last night I thought of something I’d like to give you.

Puzzled, Jamie watched Father Diego dig in his pocket and extract a key chain. I’ve carried this since I walked the Camino many years ago.

As he spoke, Father Diego worked a small silver and red object off his key ring. "There are many designs for crosses, but this one is the Cross of St. James, the Cross of Santiago. I’ve waited a long time to find the right