Camino for CAFOD - Final Blog

Image: Ann Milner

It was a short 8.3 km walk into Leon, challenging at times with the inclines, though overall, Leon lay below where I was coming from so much was downhill. I was desperate for a coffee but everywhere was closed - unusual for the camino - but then Leon doesn't need to rely on pilgrims as much as the small villages I had passed through. I caught up with Francoise, the friend of Gina, as she kept stopping to take pics. Everyone walks faster than I do - unless they stop to take photos!

Francoise also wanted to stop for coffee and eventually, at 9.30, nearly two hours after I had set off, we found an open cafe. It was a great relief. After coffee, we went our separate ways; she wanted to visit the Cathedral, I preferred to get to the refugio. Reaching the pilgrims' refugio at 10.10 I gratefully sat down. Several pilgrims had arrived before me and many had just left their rucksacks to mark their place while they went off to get food or visit the Cathedral or whatever. Leaving one's rucksack outside a municipal or parish refugio to mark one's place is an accepted practice on the Camino.

Check in wasn't till 11.00 so I didn't have that long to wait. However, it started at about 10.40. The hospitalero seemed to remember the order of arrival of pilgrims and dealt with a group of three women and then a young Korean lad. Then he called me over. I pointed to a couple of pilgrims who were definitely there before me but he kept calling me over and they said 'go on'. Another gift from the Camino. I was given a bottom bunk, much to my relief. As it happened, Gina ended up in the bottom bunk next to me. So it was a good arrival. Sadly the Cathedral was closed when I eventually got there - missed it by minutes. I have been there before and it is a beautiful place with wonderful stained glass windows. I did mean to go later in the day when it reopened but never did.

I now had a quandary. The next town was just over seven kms away but the municipal albergue was still closed. There were no private albergues - only hotels and hostels. The next town with accommodation was over 13 kms beyond that, making a walking day of 20 kms which I would not be able to do. I couldn't risk arriving after seven kms and not getting a bed and having to walk another 13 kms. Reluctantly, I booked in advance, the cheapest hostel available.

Next morning, I set off and boy was I glad I hadn't started from Leon but had had many kms on the flat meseta to improve my fitness. It was a long, long, uphill climb to get out of the city. By the time I reached my destination, La Virgen del Camino, I was whacked. Found my hotel by 9.20 and settled down expecting I would not be able to get my room till about midday. However, the Camino had another pleasant surprise in store for me. I went up to the bar to tell them I had booked a room - I wanted them to know why I would be hanging around for some time! After they found my reservation, various rubbings out on the register were done and they found me a room which had already been cleaned and led me to it. They could see I was a pilgrim carrying her own stuff and I think were sympathetic to me.

So for once I had my bed by 10.00 - a real gift! It was such luxury, to have a room to myself, no snoring from others, no waiting for the loo or shower. No worrying about waking others when I got up next day. The hostel's staff's kindness in giving me a bed before official check in time was much appreciated.

The next few days were typical pilgrim days. You get up, get dressed, pack and walk. I again had a choice regarding where to stop for the next day depending on how far I thought I could walk. The 'app' info said the municipal refugio in the next town would open at 11.00 so I was keen to get there early. In fact, it didn't open till 13.00 so I was extremely early. Unfortunately, too, there was nowhere open for coffee. I discovered later that some bars in Spain don't open on Mondays so they can have a rest after a busy weekend. I did however get to Mass that evening and also saw cattle being brought in from the fields - a sight I have not seen for very many years.

The following day's destination had a parish refugio. The entrance was directly on the street, no front garden or anything, but what an oasis one found on the other side - a beautiful, quiet garden with a cross and fountain in front. The hospitalera there could speak quite a bit of English. Before I could stop her, she took my rucksack and led me to my room. I said, 'my rucksack is heavy', 'No' she replied 'It is very heavy'. Next day she suggested I should get it transported, as many other pilgrims do. It was a tempting proposition, but then it takes the flexibility out of the camino and actually I was able to manage it.

I decided on a very short walk next day - only just over five kms. The weather was definitely getting much warmer and I found it was better to try and finish walking by about 10.00. This five km walk left me with just over 12 kms to Astorga, my final destination. The only problem was that I would reach Astorga on 19 May - but I wasn't due there till 23 May!

Again, the walk to Astorga was undulating, even more so than before. The flat meseta was definitely coming to an end. 'I will stop at the top of this next hill', I thought to myself. I had been looking for a refreshment place provided on a donativo basis and when I reached the top of this next hill, there it was. This was a relief as the distance between my stay the previous night and the next village was eight kms. As I approached this great service to pilgrims, who came running up towards me but Gina. We hugged. I didn't think I would see her again after Leon. This is a very common feature of the camino. You meet people, part when your destinations differ, and then unexpectedly meet them again.

En route into Astorga, a mature chap caught up with me. He had started at St Jean Pied de Port carrying his full rucksack but as the days passed and his back started playing up, he had started sending his backpack on ahead and carrying a day sack. However, he stayed in municipal and parish refugios when they were open. He said he always started walking very early to ensure he reached the refugio soon after it opened so he would get a bed. I wondered about this. Walking with just a day sack gave him a distinct advantage over those who walked carrying all their stuff. Had he deprived someone of a bed - someone who arrived later than him because their walk took longer due to their carrying all their stuff? Should he not confine himself to private refugios? On the other hand, should not those who were less fit or less able to walk be helped? Much food for thought and arguments for and against, including the fact that he was giving employment to the bag transporters.

We walked into Astorga together and being an hour before the municipal refugio opened, and it being very, very hot by now, we went for a beer in a cafe close to the refugio. Gina turned up again as well. She had decided also to stay in Astorga. After the refugio opened, the routine was again wash me, wash my clothes and go shopping for food. In addition, I needed to check train times at Astorga station. My plan was to get a train to Palencia where I could get a bus to London, Victoria, changing in Paris.

I checked with the hospitalera at the refugio and she said that if I walked on for the next couple of days, then turned round and walked back, I could stay again at the municipal refugio as I was now on my way home. Normally one can only spend one night in a municipal or parish refugio. So I decided I would walk on next day. There was a village with a municipal refugio just four kms away and then another village with a few private refugios another 4 or so kms later, and yet another three or four kms after that and then Rabanal, a further 6.8 kms so I had plenty of choice. However, what was on my mind was not so much horizontal distances but vertical ones, for the camino started climbing after Astorga up to one of the high points on the camino.

Next day I set off with no absolute plan. The hospitalera had warned me it would be hot. At 6.30 it was already 16C degrees. Reaching the first village with accommodation, I gratefully stopped for a coffee at Bar Cris. It was now 8.00 so it had taken me 1.5 hrs. to do only four kms - my normal walking rate by now was about 1 km every 15 mins. Still, the coffee bucked me up and I decided to proceed to the next village, Santa Catalina.

Soon after setting off, the camino started to climb gently. A young Spanish lad caught up with me and started to chat. I told him why I was doing the camino. He informed me that Spain was experiencing a heat wave, that this was August weather not May weather and they were all talking about it on the TV. That made up my mind for me. If I was able to get a bed OK in the next village, I would stay there three nights and then return to Astorga. I wasn't going to try and walk up an ascending camino in a heatwave!

And so it came to pass. Just as I reached Santa Catalina, who should catch up with me again but Gina. She was going to stay at Rabanal that night. We hugged and said our goodbyes as this would definitely be the last time we met. I wished her Buen Camino. I made my way to the albergue San Blas in which I had stayed twice before. Luckily there were beds available even without a reservation. I had been walking every day since 4 May, a total of 17 days, albeit some very short days and I think my knee appreciated the rest. I did some tidy up of my mailbox which was overflowing, washed my walking clothes and generally rested.

The following Monday, 23rd I returned to Astorga. The little church, Ecce Homo that had been open on my way to Santa Catalina was again open so like the last time, I went in, prayed and lit a candle. I was able to stay again at the municipal refugio which was a great relief. I was now at the end of my walking pilgrimage and had walked a total of 183.1 kms. 'And how are your feet?' I hear you say. Well, they are in great shape. I am grateful to God for blessing me with good feet.

Next day, Tuesday, I made my way to the railway station for a four-hour wait for the train to Palencia. The heatwave was now over and it was quite chilly. I could see clouds covering the mountains and was glad I wasn't walking up them. The train journey to Palencia was uneventful and I then had another nearly four hours to wait for the bus. It duly arrived and the next part of my long journey home commenced. After a couple of hours the bus stopped at a bus 'hub'. The email from the bus company had advised me of this but what it hadn't said was that I would have to change buses at this point. The announcement was made in a language I couldn't understand - I think it was probably Portuguese.

I asked a young German lad whether this was just a stop for passengers and driver to stretch their legs or whether we needed to change buses. He didn't know - he hadn't understood the announcement either. Guided by the Holy Spirit, I approached a French woman and asked her. The driver's assistant had previously checked to what destination people were going and had handed out a piece of paper with a number on it. The French woman showed me her number. She asked me what my number was. It was 1153. 'Yes' she said, 'you must change to bus 1153'

There now ensued a moment of panic. One of the buses had already left. 'Was it mine?' I asked myself. No, came the answer, as I checked the numbers on the remaining buses. Then I couldn't find my rucksack. There now ensued another moment of panic! But I found the rucksack - it hadn't been unloaded and was still on the bus, partially hidden under someone's denim jacket. What a relief. I stowed it onto the correct bus and climbed aboard. The bus eventually pulled away and my journey continued through the night and into the next day.

We were due in Paris at 10.10 the next morning where I was to change buses, the London bus departing at 11:45. I was looking forward to stretching my legs and having a coffee. 10.00 came and there was no sign of Paris. 10.30, still no sign. 11.00 and Paris came into view; I could see the iconic Eiffel Tower in the distance. 'It doesn't look like I will have much of an opportunity for stretching my legs and having a coffee' I thought ruefully to myself. 11.15 and we were still in the suburbs. 'I'm going to miss my London bus' I thought to myself, wondering whether I would get home at all that day, whether I would have to pay again for the fare and whether I would be refunded for the missed journey.

Finally, after being stuck in traffic, we reached Paris Bercy at 11.30. As luck would have it, the bus I was on pulled into the bay right beside the London bus. 'Thank God' I thought to myself. I hurriedly got off the bus, collected my rucksack, loaded it onto the London bus, showed my ticket and passport to the driver and gratefully boarded. I was safe. We left on time and the next phase of the trip home commenced.

Again, an uneventful journey till we reached Calais where we all had to disembark, collect luggage and go through French border security. Then it was back on the bus, drive 100 meters or so, get off the bus again, though this time just with passports, and go through UK Border control. Then back onto the bus and wait to go through the Eurotunnel. Out the other side and we were bound for London, arriving a good 30 minutes ahead of schedule for which I was grateful. I'd had enough of buses by now! Catching the train from Kings Cross, I arrived back home at 21.15, 33 hrs. after starting out from Astorga.

It has been an amazing pilgrimage. I have met wonderful, kind people and experienced moments of great spiritual peace as well as moments of interesting challenge. My time was limited due to needing to be back for a family holiday, postponed since 2020, and indeed when booking the ferry, I didn't know whether I would be fit enough to walk at all. I'd quite like to go back and finish the pilgrimage to Santiago later this year but much is still in the air so it is in God's hands.

I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all who have written supportive words to me and prayed for me. It is not my strength that allowed me to do this Camino; I did it with God's strength, and by being carried on the words of support and prayer of you all. This has been primarily a pilgrimage of gratitude - gratitude for the speedy arrangement of my treatment, gratitude to those in the NHS who have been involved in the treatment and have been so kind and supportive, gratitude that I was able to put one foot in front of another and walk, gratitude for the support of my parish and friends and family, gratitude to those who have so generously contributed to my CAFOD 'Walk for Hunger' justgiving page and of course, gratitude to God.

If you would like to, please donate to my justgiving page at: https://walk.cafod.org.uk/fundraising/camino4hunger