I sat and talked with the young pilgrim with the bad knee while we waited for the bus. He seemed to be in a bad mood as he explained that he was with a group from his university and they were traveling together. But "relationships were unraveling and fortunately I've bummed my knee, so that gave me an excuse to bus to the next town without them." Other than fellow pilgrims laughing and joking about the "industrial strength snorers" keeping everyone awake the night before, this was the first complaint I'd heard from a pilgrim about their group. Most of the pilgrims I've traveled with are my age or older, with some exceptions. Typically, we have begun our Camino alone and we make friends along the way. We have embraced advice of experienced pilgrims who tell us "nobody can walk your Camino, you must walk your own Camino your own way."
I believe this means that we must walk at our own pace, whether fast or slow. Stopping when we need to, pushing on when we can. Just as in life, we will meet others along the way. Sometimes we will be in step, sometimes we won't. We can not allow others to dictate our pace. We may walk together for a season and then part; we may stay together for the entire journey. I thought about trying to explain this to my young companion, but I decided that he will figure it out eventually, in his own time. I sat and allowed him to complain about his friends, his knee, the hot weather, the lousy dormitories, the dust, how hard his professors are pushing him, his parents, his girlfriend, politics.... He talked until the bus arrived an hour later. When we parted, he said that it was very nice to meet me and that he had enjoyed our conversation. He now had a big smile on his face and he said, "I guess I can get to the bar before everyone else today!" Sometimes, all a person needs is a good listening to.
After arriving in Belorado, I walked the Camino until I found a nice albergue. I got my assigned bed, unloaded my pack, washed clothes and hung them out to dry, and then took off to explore the town and get some lunch. Just like every Spanish city or village I've been in, there was a church in the town square with shops and cafes circling the perimeter. I stopped and purchased a bocadillo and a coke. I sat outside and watched the children playing on and around the bandstand in the center of the square. They were laughing and squealing, running and jumping, and pretty much enjoying themselves. Their parents were nowhere in sight. If there was a conflict, they worked it out. If one fell, the others helped him up and dusted him off. If a little one could not reach the water fountain, the bigger ones lifted her to the faucet. I have noticed this behavior in every town square. The kids are allowed to be kids. No signs that say "Keep Off," "Keep Out," "Do Not Enter." It's refreshing to see the children taking care of themselves and each other without parents hovering about.
I walked around town until it siesta time. It was so hot that I went back to the albergue to get out of the heat. I decided to do what the rest of the population of Spain was doing: I took a nap.
More pilgrims arrived with more noise in the courtyard and more activity in the kitchen below me, so I got up and went for another long walk. Towards evening, it seemed that all of the locals were out and about and they were dressed up in their Sunday best. The bars were offering tapas and wine, but the crowds seemed subdued. Then the bells of the church stared ringing and everyone finished up and walked to the church. I wasn't dressed for church, although I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered, so I went back to the albergue to have dinner with the pilgrims.
I met Doug and his son, Colin, from England. And Pam Carlquist, who said she was a writer from Utah, joined us. The albergue's restaurant was excellent. Three course meal with wine for 10 euro. Doug is a retired engineer who previously worked in carbon research. Colin works for LandRover /Jaguar and gets to drive all over the world. We had a great time talking about our adventures. Just as we finished our meal, we heard loud music outside in the street. The music was sad and dirge-like with slow drum beats echoing down the narrow street outside the albergue. We realized it was the processional after Good Friday mass in the church. So we all rushed downstairs to watch.
I watched in awe as the procession slowly and solemnly passed by. The costumes and the pageantry were amazing. When the crowd had passed, Doug and Colin took off to follow as it wound its way around the town. I went out to retrieve my laundry, repack my things for an early start tomorrow, and catch up on my blog. I've had yet another lovely evening to be thankful for.
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