I woke up feeling like a little kid. My heart was happy and I was eager to start the day. The sun was shining brightly and everything was so green it seemed like the height of summer, save for the still fairly cool air outside. I took my time getting out of bed and out the door because I knew I was down to the last four days on the Camino, and I wanted to savor every minute.
At breakfast I ran into Allen and Johnny, who were apparently arguing over something. I smiled and left them alone. They acknowledged me but didn’t seem to want to interrupt their conversation to say good morning.
That was fine with me. More now than ever I wanted to remain in silence as much as possible, not wanting to miss any bit of insight that might come through while I was in this clear and calm inner state.
After breakfast I left Cheater with the front desk, got a stamp for my passport, and headed out. Following the yellow arrows, I wound through town, then followed the path from the center of town at the top of the hill back down to the river, and on from there.
This part of the river was neither as wide nor as windy as yesterday’s crossing, for which I was grateful, as I wasn’t ready to be freaked out again so early in the morning.
Once across and on my way, I was in pure bliss. I was mesmerized as the Camino led me into a deep green forest that spilled out into several small farms. Gentle mist danced through the trees, and wildflowers exploded everywhere, filling the air with an interesting and very strong mixed fragrance of cow dung and rose petals that was so powerful that even I could smell it. Birds were singing in the trees, and bees were swarming around the flowers. Cows were grazing, farmers were working, and nature was in full bloom. Everything felt so alive, including me.
The walk starting winding uphill again about an hour after I began, and at times it was quite steep. I took my time and used my poles to support my feet and my knee, as they were both starting to hurt a lot.
Today I noticed more pilgrims on the path than in all the weeks before combined. It felt at times as though I were on the Camino 500, with groups, some as large as 10 or 15, flocking all around, leaving my private Camino a thing of the past.
I was warned this would happen, as many people chose to walk only the last 100 kilometers of the Camino. That was the minimum distance you needed to walk in order to get the Compostela, or the certificate of completion of the Santiago pilgrimage, and be granted a plenary indulgence, or forgiveness of the past, by the Catholic Church.
It took extra focus on my part to stay centered and remain undisturbed by this sudden shift in the Camino energy. I didn’t want the crowds to take away from my inner peace. I decided this was just another opportunity to prepare for reentering life after the Camino, where life would be as demanding and intense for me as it ever was. Maintaining my inner peace through the crowds here was good practice for life back home.
The path was very muddy, no doubt from all the rain over the past few weeks, and at times it was more like gum than anything else. It reminded me of the muck I had to fight my way through in the Pyrenees way back in the beginning, leaving me with the sense of coming full circle. I figured it was just a reminder for me not to get stuck in the mud—not here, nor in my life.
A little farther on, the air smelled so strongly of acrid cow dung it almost knocked me out. How can these people stand this smell? I wondered. Do they even smell it all anymore, or is it such a part of their lives that it doesn’t bother them at all?
I knew that fertilizer was necessary to help everything on these farms grow, which led me to see it, too, as a metaphor. I guess I have to view the past pain and suffering in my life as the fertilizer I needed to help me grow, as well, I decided.
I was grateful for it all and would not have wanted my life to be any other way. Everything that had transpired in my past life brought me here, to this beautiful and peaceful point in my being, and without life unfolding as it had, I wouldn’t be here at all, inside or out. Looking around, I couldn’t imagine missing this experience for the entire world and was grateful for everyone and everything that made this possible, including the deaths of my father and brother, and my split from Patrick.
I happened upon such an inviting tree stump that I didn’t want to pass it up and sat down. As I did, I looked at Pilgrim. Inside I had been carrying my lightweight shoes as well as my Tevas every day, just in case I needed to take my boots off, but every time I tried to walk in either pair, the pain along the sides of my feet became so severe I just couldn’t do it.
So right then, I took both pairs out and decided to leave them on the path. I had seen shoes that had been left to die on the Camino along the entire way. Maybe some of those people needed new shoes to replace their dead ones. I put one pair on the tree stump next to me and another across from it, for pilgrims behind me to find. They were brand-new and maybe would be welcomed by someone who had just had a shoe blowout. I hoped so.
This now took even more weight off my back and left me with very little to carry in Pilgrim other than my iPod, my few remaining Band-Aids and blister creams, my water bottle, and my down vest. I was dropping so much weight now and it felt great. Even my pants were falling off as I left the past behind.
Eventually, just when I was running out of steam and didn’t think I could walk any farther, I dragged my weary self into Palas de Rei, where I was going to stay for the night. As I walked into the town, I could hear a band in the distance playing the most lively Celtic music, complete with bagpipes and drums. The deeper into town I got, the louder it became, until I walked up to my hostel and saw that the music was coming from there.
A big wedding party was under way; and everyone was out on the lawn laughing, singing, and dancing to the music, celebrating the happy occasion.
I took this as a sign of new love and life, and to happen upon it and enjoy the celebration vicariously was a wonderful way to end the day.
Moments later I checked in and found Cheater patiently waiting for me in the lobby. I was then shown to my room, as this hostel was spread out among several buildings and I was in one located in the back. Once I settled in, I went outside again and sat in the sun, enjoying the live band and watching the party continue.
Eventually Camino Patrick came wandering up to the hostel and said he was staying at the pilgrims’ albergue a little farther into town, but came to see if I was staying here. Happy to find one another once again, we decided to have dinner together in the hostel restaurant. We sat in the sun a little while longer and shared a glass of wine while waiting for the dinner hour to come around. Fortunately, it was only an hour away, as the hostel was sensitive to tired pilgrims who needed to eat early.
Just as we were about to be seated, Johnny and Allen came strolling in, and once they saw me, they came over and asked if they could join us for dinner. Patrick didn’t seem too keen on the idea, but I didn’t mind, so I left it to him to answer. He hesitated for a minute then said, “Of course, please do,” and moments later we were all seated around a small table in the corner of the hostel restaurant looking over the menu.
Once we ordered and wine was served, Johnny and Allen started talking. To our shock, they complained bitterly about the hostel, the menu, the weather, and the price they paid for the accommodations, and then began attacking American politicians, corporate America, England, Germany, the Church, other pilgrims, and more. This was all in the first 15 minutes after sitting down! The next thing I knew they were slamming the President, and Americans in general, causing Patrick to rise up in patriotic defense of everything they were attacking. Soon a tense argument ensued, with sniping back and forth on the part of all three men.
I was appalled at what was happening, as it shattered my Camino calm and tranquility, leaving me to wonder if Johnny and Allen had any idea this was a spiritual pilgrimage. Several times I attempted to temper the conversation by bringing it back to more neutral territory, but Johnny especially seemed to be just warming up to his assaults and was in no mood to change the subject or take notice of his effect on either Patrick or me.
Finally I attempted to stop the barrage by directly asking them to change the subject and direction, explaining that having been on this long contemplative journey I was not available to participate in the conversation at hand. But they only rolled their eyes at me and smirked.
Rather than taking this in, they turned their negative energy on full force toward me now, as they not only ignored my request, but carried on even more aggressively than before. Again I politely asked them to stop and change the direction of the conversation. I assured them that while it wasn’t personal, I simply wasn’t available to listen to what they were saying right now.
All the while I was thinking, What the hell is the matter with them? I hadn’t experienced anything like this from anyone the entire time I had been walking, and it really caught me by surprise.
After my second request to change the subject, I was met with stony silence on their part, accompanied by sideways stares of resentment, while Patrick seemed to now want to not only come to my defense but also to the defense of the good American people. So moments later, off they went at it again.
It was crazy to be surrounded by this toxic energy after walking my way into such a serene inner state of being over the past month. I had just finished my soup when I realized the evening was not going to improve, and if anything, with addition of more wine, it was only going to get worse. So I suddenly got up, offered a “Buen Camino” to all, and went back to my room. I was as surprised as they were by my exit, but greatly relieved to be away from the negativity and combativeness that I had just escaped.
“What the heck was that?” I asked myself as I got back to room, scrambling for any last bits and pieces of PowerBar left in Pilgrim or Cheater. I wondered why the Camino gave me that unexpected and toxic experience. Perhaps it was to give me a chance to fully experience the devastating impact negative energy has on people.
Perhaps Allen and Johnny were two Camino angels sent to remind me to be extremely mindful of my own temptation to be negative from now on.
Perhaps they showed up to mirror aspects of myself that could be equally negative that needed to be brought to light so I could pray and meditate to clear them as I walked tomorrow.
Perhaps they were a very loud and clear warning to get away from negative people as soon as possible and not allow them to drag me into their vortex.
All three thoughts felt right, and I was grateful for the experience and awareness even if it did catch me off guard and leave me feeling a little rattled. That’s how the Camino had worked for me.
I felt a little guilty leaving Camino Patrick there with them, but then I figured he could take care of himself. I didn’t have to protect him. He could have left just as easily as I did. I wondered if he did.
Too tired and hungry to analyze it any further, I went to bed, figuring the sooner I went to sleep, the faster I could get up in the morning and eat. I closed the shutters to my room, which made the space pitch-black, and after praying for a while I passed out.