The ups and downs of my final Camino

I think I remember signing off on a previous Camino column by stating that I wouldn’t inflict another one on you. Anyway, I have changed my mind because this one would be the last section remaining of the 500 miles Camino de Santiago. This one was different; dear readers. This one was special and this one was personal.

And so I ventured forth to walk the 128 mile pilgrimage from Leon to Sarria; the remaining stretch I hadn’t yet done.

On the morning of September 8, Mrs Youcantbeserious drove me to the bus stop in town, where I caught the 3:15am coach to Dublin Airport. I got the 7:30am flight to Madrid and from there the train to Leon.

Next morning I set out at daybreak to walk the twenty mile, more or less flat, section to Orbigo and the following day I did the shorter distance to Astora, where I arrived without ache or pain.

Day 3 saw me climb the 16 miles to Facebadon, not easy. I am happy to be here because the next stage to the city of Ponferrada will take me past the highest point on the Camino (5,000 ft above sea level). This was going to be the highest point for me – in more ways than one.

I left the hotel in pitch darkness shortly after 06:00am because two miles up at the aforementioned highest point stands the cross of Cruz de Ferro and I wanted to be there as dawn broke.

Cruz de Ferro is an iconic holy place on which stands a tall simple cross. For centuries pilgrims have carried a stone from home to place at the foot of the cross. Tradition says that when you place the stone you brought from your home, you leave all your burdens behind with that stone. It is one of the most symbolic and moving experiences of the entire Camino, especially at sunrise. People from all over the world, many of them crying and placing a stone with incredible emotion. I left a stone from home in memory of my late daughter, Olga.

From there I commenced the very steep descent looking forward to reaching the mini-metropolis of Ponferrada. I had the worst of it over me and soon would be approaching better ground … when it happened. I wasn’t careless and was using two climbing poles, but the stones under my feet started to move and I started to fall. The fall seemed to happen in slow motion as I tried to save myself, but fall I did. I took a hefty ‘dunt’ over all my body but the pain in my right knee was excruciating. I knew I was in trouble.

People on the Camino trail are marvelous towards each other. It may sound cheesy to say we are like brothers and sisters with a common goal. I had a dozen people helping me and in particular, two young Spanish women refused to leave me until I hobbled to a café stop about a mile further down. I had 12 miles on my ‘steps’, just by way of context.

The owner of the café drove me to my hotel (remember what I told you about people on the Camino) from where I got a taxi to the hospital.

I was seen right away, put in a wheelchair, examined by a doctor and sent for an X-ray. The doctor reassured me that she didn’t think anything was broken and the subsequent X-ray bore this out. Badly sprained and twisted knee and bruising that would heal quickly. I was told to keep the leg up for five days and ice it frequently.

Four days of my eight day Camino and the walking was over. I took a bus or taxi each day to the hotels we had booked and I minded the leg as best I could.

In Villafranca there was a fiesta, but I didn’t dance! The colour, music and pageantry were as only the Spanish can do.

I visited all the little churches along the trail and lit a candle for my family and friends who need a hand. On my last night in Sarria, I hit by chance on the start of a little pilgrim’s mass at 7:00pm. Same as in Villafranca, where there was a massive holy day noon mass on the Monday and beside my hotel.

And so, on Thursday 17, I left my last hotel at 4:00am. Caught a 5:40am train from Sarria to Madrid and then to the airport. Flight to home was delayed, but I got into Dublin in time for the 11:30pm bus to Mullingar. Mrs Youcantbeserious collected me and I arrived back in Irishtown on my 82nd birthday!

I didn’t entirely finish my walk as planned, but my son, Ian and his wife, Lynne, have promised to go up in October to step out the bit I missed. ‘Aren’t people great all the same …!’

Don’t Forget

A kind word picks up a man when trouble weighs him down.