Women of the Way: Embracing the Camino

About the Book

A pilgrimage across northern Spain to the sanctuary at Santiago de Compostela [is] the finest journey in Spain. ~ James Michener, Iberia

Spain is divided into seventeen autonomous communities (states or regional governments), each with a capital. Each autonomous community is comprised of provinces, of which there are fifty. Each province has its own capital city. Often the capital city has the same name as the province. For example, Burgos is the capital of the province Burgos; on the other hand, Pamplona is the capital of Navarra.

The Camino Francés crosses four Spanish autonomous communities

There are many Caminos or routes leading to Santiago de Compostela. Some originate in Portugal, some in France or other European countries, while others start in various places within Spain. The Camino Francés (the French Way), the most popular Camino, extends from the Pyrenees to Santiago, wandering through four of the seventeen autonomous communities: Navarra, La Rioja, Castille and León, and Galicia. In Women of the Way, the author describes her journey on the Camino Francés.

In the Pyrenees and the eastern part of Navarra, many towns have multiple names, depending on the language. This book indicates the various names in the following order: Spanish/Basque/Catalan. (Basque is the ancient language of the Basque people spoken in northeastern Spain. Catalan is a Romance language and the official regional language of the western Pyrenees.) This information should make it easier for you to locate a town or village on maps and in guidebooks. Perhaps this will help you understand how easy it is to get lost.

Distance and weight are indicated in metric units with a following conversion into miles, pounds, and so on.

Each woman's story in the book is intact, even if the conversations were gathered over time. Many conversations include post-Camino experiences and conclusions expressed by the women in follow-up emails and phone calls. All reflect the women's words. The following symbol indicates the end of a conversation:

In Spanish, camino can mean route, way, or lane. In this book, Camino always refers to the Camino de Santiago. Likewise, the Way is an alternate name for the Camino.

Preparation

When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money. ~ Susan Heller

Will I have the stamina to walk day in and out, for weeks on end, in good and bad weather, through high mountain passes and arid lowlands, under a scorching sun? Can my body withstand the pounding? Will boredom be a problem?

I ask myself these questions as I contemplate my first long walk, the Camino de Santiago, a 790 kilometer (500 mile) pilgrimage across northern Spain. I remind myself that countless pilgrims have walked this route, also known as the Way of St. James, for over a millennium. The ancient itinerants faced real dangers: warlords, wolves, thieves, and disease. Today, I tell myself, Spain is a modern, civilized country; the journey will be easier; and I can always find solace in the Spanish wine.

I am not averse to physical challenges. I have climbed Mount Washington, the highest peak in the Northeastern United States at 1,917 meters (6,288 feet) several times and also half of the forty 1220-meter (4,000-foot) mountains in New England. For my thirtieth birthday, I chose to seclude myself in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, climbing five of the tallest peaks. However, that was more than thirty years ago. Could I now, as a sixty-one year old technical writer who spends the day seated at a computer, sustain that level of exertion for such a long distance? Would I have the endurance? Would my body adapt or balk at the sudden change in lifestyle? The only way to find out is to take the first steps.

I do not usually let the universe surprise me. I make plans, set goals, and commit to achieving whatever I set out to do. To assure success on this venture, I start reading, researching, and preparing to become a pilgrim.

The first time I heard of this pilgrimage was in the 1990s, when I read Shirley MacLaine's book The Camino, A Journey of the Spirit, in which MacLaine described her adventure and quest for spiritual understanding as she walked for thirty days on the Camino. It amazed me that someone could undertake such a journey and I marveled at her courage. Twenty years later, a friend raved about his Camino de Santiago experiences and this time I felt the calling. This January, when my husband, Dennis asked if I would like to go on an adventure with him, I proposed hiking the Camino to Santiago de Compostela; it would be my first long walk.

As I research, I am surprised to discover that there are many routes known as the Camino, originating all over Europe, Portugal, and Spain. I am interested in the main route, the Camino Francés, which is the one that Shirley MacLaine walked and the one shown in the movie, The Way. There are two possible starting places for us on the Camino Francés: St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France, which requires going over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles, Spain, or starting in Roncesvalles, as do most Spaniards. If we start in France we can choose to go to Roncesvalles via the Route Napoléon, which goes over the Pyrenees, or via the traditional route used by the medieval pilgrims that goes through the Valcarlos valley. This lower-level route is neither as strenuous nor as isolated as the upper one. We decide to do both routes, descending into St-Jean-Pied-de-Port via the Route Napoléon and then returning to Roncesvalles through the valley. This way, we figure, we will avoid that long, steep climb out of France, see France from the peaks as we descend into St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and have an easy return to Spain after a strenuous first day.

How long does it take someone to walk that distance? Many younger people walk the Camino Francés in thirty days. I suspect that as a sexagenarian, I will need more time and add ten days. Logistically, I figure six days travel time, including air and ground transport. I add in three just in case days for emergencies and another three days upon arrival in Europe for acclimatizing to the time difference. Additionally, after reaching Santiago, many pilgrims hike to the end of the earth: Cape Finisterre on the Atlantic Coast. This is another four-day hike, eight days round trip. How will I manage to get fifty-two to sixty days off from work to do this? For many companies in the US, asking for this much time off, either for vacation or for religious or personal reasons, is not deemed sufficiently compelling to grant a sabbatical.

Wanting to see how other people manage to take the time off, I join several online forums. In one forum, people—mostly Americans—discuss how they plan to get four to six weeks off from work. Some responses are lighthearted: I lived long enough to accrue the time. Others are more serious, discussing the gravity of potentially losing one's job in these uncertain economic times. One person suggests convincing your boss about the benefits to the company of your going on the Camino: in addition to returning rested and re-energized, the Camino can make you more open-minded, increase your communication skills, and expose you to international cultures. Others propose paying back the time off by working holidays or shut downs; paying it forward by working overtime and getting compensated for the work in time off instead of money; or walking the Camino in sections, completing it over several years. Someone mentions doing the Camino as a fundraiser and asking the company to donate the time. I am amazed by the number of people who are prepared to quit their jobs to walk the Camino.

The decision to go on the pilgrimage, knowing that I may not have a job when I come back, is difficult to make. I like my work, and not being able to return to it will be a struggle financially. Dennis points out that we are not getting younger and that somehow we will get through it. Our personal history is testimony to the fact that we can overcome challenges; this will not be different.

Eventually, I ask for an eight-week leave of absence from work—four weeks of accumulated vacation time and a month's leave without pay for the months of September and October. My boss is not happy: there is too much work, too many projects, it will be a burden on my coworkers. I understand the rationale, since she is ultimately responsible for the department's output. Before she can approve the request, she must speak with Human Resources and seek guidance/approval from Headquarters. My continued employment is now in their hands; they will let me return to work or they will not.

Pilgrims hike the Camino throughout the year. I do not like the cold, so that easily eliminates choosing to hike during November through April. May and June are warmer, but many people walk the Camino during those months to arrive in Santiago on July 25, St. James' Feast Day, especially during a holy year, when the 25th falls on a Sunday. During a holy year, pilgrims can receive a plenary indulgence, a full temporal forgiveness of sins for the pilgrim or for the soul of a deceased person. 2010 was the most recent holy year and there was a swell of pilgrims flooding the Camino (more than 272,000 people received a certificate of completion that year). July and August are the hottest and most popular months, when most Europeans take vacations, and the subsequent overcrowding on the roads, in restaurants, and hostels does not appeal to me. That leaves September and October as the optimum time for our Camino; the Way is less crowded then and the temperatures are mild, even though October can be rainy and mornings quite chilly.

After deliberations, we decide to depart on September 2 and return on October 28. I book our tickets with flights arriving in Barcelona and returning from Madrid. This way, I get to see Barcelona, a city I have always wanted to visit, and to show Dennis Madrid, where I lived for a year after college. In my mind, I keep singing Barcelona by the rock group Queen and hope that I will not continue to do so until we leave six months from now.

Having decided on the route and the dates, I start training for hiking and backpacking. Even though I routinely walk several miles a day, I am physically unprepared to walk 20 kilometers (12.5 miles) a day as I expect to do on the Camino. To prepare, I walk on the beach, in state parks, on streets and dirt roads—everywhere. On one of my training excursions, I comment to Dennis that I am looking forward to the entire trip, the thrill of discovery, the introspection, the food, the wine, the camping, the heat, the rain. Everything! I am ready to fully embrace the Camino. With a snicker, he promises to remind me of this after a week's walk.

I work out daily with Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred in hopes of building strength and endurance for hiking the trail. Even after ninety days I am still struggling with the workout. It takes a lot of work to counter the effects of my sedentary life. Having had shin splints in both legs and a torn meniscus in my right knee, I hope that preparatory exercise will prevent mishaps on the trail. Living in Florida offers little opportunity to develop thigh muscles: it is too flat and there are too few stairs. I do squats and thigh exercises until my muscles burn. Slowly, I start to get in shape.

I research hiking clothes and gear. It amazes me how difficult it is for me to decide upon my ideal lightweight clothing and equipment. For each item, I spend hours researching, reading products reviews, deliberating the pros and cons, and then making a decision. Some decisions are simple: a spork is a half spoon, half fork utensil and I definitely need one. I choose titanium instead of stainless steel because it is lighter. Others are more complex. Perhaps I am attaching too much significance to each decision, but I want everything to be perfect. I do not want things to go badly on the pilgrimage because I failed to consider something that could prove significant.

For example, I need to decide whether I should hike in pants or in a skirt. There is much debate in the forums about this topic. Some women manage to pull down their pants and urinate without taking off their backpack; others have more difficulty. One woman puts on her poncho for privacy, but that seems like a waste of time and effort. Some wear loose shorts and just pull them aside. There is discussion about female urination funnels, but these devices seem impractical. Wearing a skirt, especially if going commando (without underwear), makes it easy to piddle and also provides coolness and prevents chaffing; the ability to urinate without having to remove the pack is another plus. From my research, the area in Spain known as the Meseta is very barren; there are not many trees to hide behind when nature calls. Being able to stand on the side of the road like a guy to urinate without exposing myself is definitely a plus. Cleanliness, practicality, and modesty win and I decide to hike in a skirt.

That decision made, I do research to find the best hiking skirt for me, and at last I order a khaki-colored Sierra Skirt from Kuhl. It has front and side pockets and is made with Tufflex, a soft durable stretch fabric that is quick drying, wrinkle resistant, and has a UPF 50 rating. From my research, wearing clothes with a high UPF rating prevents sunburn and enhances protections from harmful UV-related health risks. Clothing with a high UPF rating is better than sunscreen, which needs frequent reapplication.

I am concerned about the effect of repeated washing on the UPF rating, but research eases my worries. Apparently, as long as I don't wash the skirt with soap that contains an optical brightening agent, the UPF ratings should remain unchanged after forty or more washings.¹

Once the skirt arrives, I realize that the 0.56 meter or 22-inch-long hiking skirt is too short for me, because I feel it comes up too far above my knee. I decide to use it in the evening as dress up clothes to visit the town or go out for supper. The second skirt I purchase is a black Royal Robbins Women’s Discovery Skirt that comes to just above my knees. It too provides a UPF 50+ rating and is quick to dry.

At the local outfitters, I check out the backpacking gear. I am adamant about selecting the right gear for me. I don't want to spend too much money, yet I want the best I can get. The salesman fits me with the Osprey Talon 33L backpack. It feels comfortable and I like the purple color. In the end, in spite of all the research I have done, the eye appeal is the deciding factor and I purchase it.

After examining and rejecting many sleeping bags, I must decide between two. The Mountain Gear Ultralamina 45 sleeping bag compresses down to about the size of a one-pound coffee can. With the salesman's blessing, I spread the bag out on the floor, and crawl into it. It is a mummy bag, which is narrower at the bottom than at the top, and only zippers halfway. I like to sleep with my feet uncovered and fear that they might get too hot in the bag. More important, I cannot zipper the mummy-style bag with Dennis' bag to create one bag, which would be a bonus when we tent. My other choice is a Eureka dual-temperature-rated bag, depending on which side the bag faces up. I liked its roominess and the zipper extends down both sides, which would allow me to expose my feet or zipper our two bags together, but it takes up more than a third of my backpack. Because I value the compactness and low weight of the mummy bag more than the freedom to air out my legs, I purchase the Mountain Gear bag.

I get increasingly excited with each trip to the outfitters. Shopping for the hike seems to make it more real to me. Each item purchased is one thing less to prepare, and one more reason to smile.

Selecting the correct hiking shoe is very important; a bad fit can cause a lot of pain and possible injury. Anecdotal stories indicate that a long-distance hiker's feet grow and spread, the change often noticeable after only a few hundred miles. Since I have wide feet and since men's shoes are wider than women's shoes, I buy a men's shoe by Gore-Tex with OrthoLite insoles. These shoes are comfortable and light; it should be easy to break them in. I purchase a size larger than normal and three pairs of wool socks—heavy, medium, and lightweight, and plan to switch thicknesses as my feet grow. The first time I wear the shoes on a training walk, I get a hot spot under my sole after only ten miles. I switch to the thicker socks and that resolves the problem.

Other items purchased at the outfitters include a microfiber towel, a titanium spork, several waterproof bags to protect my clothes and my e-reader, rain gear, and a fleece jacket and pants. My most cherished purchases are a Rite in the Rain all-weather travel journal and an all-weather felt pen. I want to be able to chronicle my journey and these will allow me to write when I am moved to do so, no matter the weather.

In my excitement, I stuff my backpack with the hiking paraphernalia to see if I can get all my supplies into it. Though I do not have everything necessary for the trip, I simulate the space with similarly sized, non-hiking gear. Yes! I am able to get everything into the pack, including the e-reader and my laptop, although my packing skills need improvement; there is too much weight on my left. After redistributing the contents to balance the load, I try to figure out a way to attach the sleeping mat and the hiking umbrella on the outside. Without food, water, or medication, the pack weighs 7.8 kilos (17.3 pounds). That is a bit heavy, but acceptable. According to the backpack-weight-to-body-weight guidelines, a healthy woman should carry no more than twenty percent of her body weight. I weigh about 56.7 kilos (125 pounds), so I should be able to carry 11 kilos (25 pounds). Since a bottle of water weighs about 0.5 kilo (1 pound) and my medicine and essential vitamins in the original bottles weigh twice that amount, I figure I should have plenty of leeway for food weight.

In addition to being prepared physically and with the right gear, I want to be culturally prepared. I do not want to be the Ugly American or the foolish tourist, easy prey for anyone. For example, I look into the Spanish tipping custom. In Spain, the propina (tip) is a reward for extraordinary service and not obligatory. According to Spanish custom:

•- It is not required to tip at most restaurants, though leaving the change returned after paying the tab is becoming acceptable. The exception is at formal sit-down restaurants where a one- or two-euro tip is typical. Locals do not tip when eating the menu of the day, a specially priced menu that includes soup or salad, a main dish, bread (without butter), dessert, and a glass of wine or beer.

•- Though taxi drivers do not expect tips for taxi fares, rounding up the fare to the next euro and adding a little something (coins less than a euro) for assistance with luggage is also acceptable.

•- In hotels, it is not necessary to tip except in upscale settings. Though it is courteous to tip the bellhop for lugging suitcases to the room, it is not necessary to tip anyone else in the hotel.

The reason for not tipping is that waiters, hoteliers, and taxi drivers earn a decent salary and are not dependent on tips to make a living wage. These workers also get government health benefits and paid vacation time, unlike similar employees in the United States.

In June, we receive the Credencial del Peregrino (Pilgrim Passport) from the Pilgrims on the Camino, a US association dedicated to providing information about and support for the Camino de Santiago. The Credencial del Peregrino is a document issued by the cathedral in Santiago to designate the hiker as a pilgrim, grant access to pilgrim lodging and discounts, and provide a record of the pilgrimage. The Credencial has fifty-six places to collect the stamps that certify our journey along the Camino. Each day, we must get a sello (stamp) from the albergue (hostel, pronounced al-burr-gay), church, town hall, office of tourism, or certain cafés and restaurants in towns along the Way. Since the Pilgrim Passport is made of cardstock, I will protect it in a plastic ziploc bag in my backpack.

Pilgrim Passport Stamps

In the front of the Pilgrim Passport, there is a Pilgrim's Prayer from the Codex Calixtinus (The Book of St. James). This twelfth-century manuscript, decorated with gold and silver, was commissioned by Pope Callixtus II and is known as Europe's first travel guide. On July 3, 2011, someone stole the Codex Calixtinus from its security case in the Cathedral de Santiago archives and it has never been recovered.

The Pilgrim's Prayer asks for guidance at the crossroads, strength in weariness, defense in danger, shelter on the path, shade in the heat, light in the dark, and comfort in the discouragement. Walking over five hundred miles will test my intentions and strength. I hope to arrive safely in Santiago de Compostela.

Written to assist pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago, the Codex includes five books: the history of St. James; miracles attributed to him; the transfer of his body to Santiago de Compostela and how the scallop shell became a symbol of the saint; the history of Charlemagne and Roland; and a guide for the traveler, which describes the route, works of art along the Way, and the customs of the local people. I look forward to seeing these same sights as witnessed by travelers in the twelfth century.

The Credencial del Peregrino also has a page about the Spirit of the Camino. It encourages you to "Share what you have with pilgrims. Live in the moment. Watch for the sign that you are on the path. Welcome all that comes to you. Sense the prayers of those who have gone before you, leave good will behind for those who will come after you, appreciate your companions who walk with you. Care for the albergue as if it were your own home. Give thanks at the end of each day. When you arrive in Santiago, embrace the saint on behalf of all those unable to make the pilgrimage." Even as an atheist, I can easily follow the nonreligious aspect of this Spirit of the Camino.

Many of my friends are puzzled why I, a nonbeliever, want to go on a pilgrimage. This long journey for me is not for religious devotion, but for introspection and adventure, providing me with an opportunity to discover languages, customs, and ways of life different from my heritage, as is the case for most people. In 1987, the Council of Europe declared the Way as the first European Cultural Itinerary—one of the great footpaths of Europe, and in 1993, UNESCO designated it a Cultural World Heritage Site.

I am so excited now that there are only two months left before leaving for Barcelona. These few months of planning have been rewarding. Instead of