More than 30 years ago I first heard about the Camino to Santiago de Compostela and was immediately curious what this centuries-old pathway might be like. At last my opportunity to find out firsthand came when I read of St. Bart’s planned trip this fall, and now here I am!
My initial interest was largely connected to my long held love of history, art, and architecture. However, now that I’ve advanced well into middle age I have become aware of the somewhat broader appeal of all types of sensory experiences. In retirement I have been able to travel by bike on several occasions allowing me to appreciate surrounding places not only visually but also with the other senses. Now the walk on the Camino slows the pace of travel to another degree increasing the opportunities for sensory awareness of a place, the delightful as well as the less pleasant. Here it is obvious through all of our senses that we are in a place far different from New York. These sorts of experiences cannot really be conveyed from one person to another with words and images, but I’ll give it a try in the descriptions below.
-hearing a rooster crowing from my hotel room.
-the smells and sounds of cows as I walk through an active farm.
-the beauty of a mountainside that looks like a patchwork of green, impossible to capture accurately by my phone camera.
-amazing stonework of fences and houses and churches, a skill clearly perfected over centuries.
-cow bells clanging, a sound I associate with fairy tales, not the 21st century.
-vineyards on hillsides (grapes already harvested now) and apple trees laden with fruit.
-the flowing water of small streams and rivers along the path (not like the soundless Hudson), crossed on small stone bridges.
-furry-looking spheres of green, orange, and brown covering the ground that I learn contain chestnuts inside (those sold by vendors on 5th Avenue, I suppose).
-overhearing a variety of languages from our fellow pilgrims (not unlike NYC) but with one phrase shared by all, “Buen Camino!”
-the gruff-sounding barking of big farm dogs.
-the feeling of dampness and chilly winds as we ascend a mountain along a steep, rocky path.
-giant agricultural equipment that looks like something out of a science-fiction move.
-a line of wind turbines along a distant ridge, their turning arms sometimes seeming to vanish in the low-hanging clouds.
-the smell of car fumes for too long as our path takes us through the edge of an urban area (didn’t we come to escape this?).
-the surprising comfort of giving myself a foot massage at the end of a strenuous walking day.
-the beauty of small, centuries-old country churches with their simplified carvings of “Christ in Majesty” mimicking (perhaps?) those more gloriously displayed in grand cathedrals.
-the joy of a doble espresso and a napolitano (pain au chocolat) at the first, late-morning rest stop.
-the pleasant smell of wood smoke in the air, a reminder that fall is here.
-somewhat soggy French fries at dinner… again!
I’m grateful to St. Bart’s for this opportunity and to my fellow peregrinos for the joy of their company.
Camino Day 7
