To the Camino, with Gratitude

One of the more elaborate Buen Camino signs

The last few nights I have dreamed that I was walking long distances outdoors; I guess the Camino is still rooted in my subconscious and in my body, which has been conditioned to keep moving.  With no more yellow arrows to follow, will I take up sleepwalking?!   Since it’s Thanksgiving, here are some appreciations, from A to Z.

Albergues:  Whether they were state of the art, with touch screen stoves and leg massage machines, or, in one case, a boxy shipping container filled with bunk beds, I always had a place to sleep.

Buen Camino:  The encouraging greeting offered by strangers and Pilgrims alike.

Credencial:  My Pilgrim “passport”, stamped with colorful seals of the places I visited and stayed.

Desayuno:  I got hooked on my Spanish breakfast of a (decaf) cafe con leche with a napoletana. 

Emulgel:  The magic muscle relaxant, produced by Novartis, that many of us massaged into our legs.

Friolera:  An addition to my vocabulary, meaning “someone who tends to get cold.”

Gazpacho: sold in cartons, in supermarkets and vending machines, some of the best I’ve ever had.

Hospitaleros:  The managers and hosts at the albergues who, for the most part, helped ease the journey.

Internet:   It was there when I needed it, with pay-by-the-hour computers.  And I was glad to discover that, after a few weeks, I didn’t really miss it.

John Brierley:  Author of my guidebook whose spiritual reflections helped me reconsider some of my more challenging experiences.

Kelty:  Manufacturer of my backpack, now going on ten years.

Lights:  Most albergues, restaurants and bars had either motion sensor or timed lights in the restrooms.  While I admire Spain’s determination to consume less energy, I did have to remember to wave my arms around so I wouldn’t be left sitting in the dark.

Music by Minna Bromberg helped drown out the snoring at night.

Napoletana:  Spanish equivalent of a chocolate croissant.

Octopus: Pulpo in Spanish.  As tasty as it is ugly.

Peregrinos:  The other Pilgrims who, whether they knew it or not, helped me see myself more clearly simply by showing up.

Queso:  Cheese, whether cow, sheep or goat or, as in common in Spain, all three mixed together.  Delicious weight I was willing to carry.

Rainbows:  They appeared when I needed to see one, including gasp-inducing double rainbows that arced across the sky (much like in Colorado).

Siesta:  In Spain, it is perfectly normal, if not encouraged, to take a nap after walking.  Rest is an integral part of any intense physical endeavor.

Trekking Poles:  They kept me upright and moving on many days.

Ultreia:  One of the more common Pilgrim graffiti/encouragements (click the link for a definition)

Vending Machines:  They sold everything, from delicious, customized hot drinks, to bandages and blister care products.

Weather:  I was quite lucky: three mountain crossings with either full or partial visibility, only a few days of intense rain.  I was prepared for the worst but, fortunately, was spared.

X:  a letter omnipresent in Gallego, the language of Galicia.  Some of their words even begin with “X”, which is probably a boon to any Galician scrabble players.

Y:  I’m still not sure of all the deeper reasons why I went on the Camino, but maybe I don’t need to know that now.

Zumo:  Fresh juice, usually orange, always ambrosia.