Whispers from the Camino—Day 8

September 12 Day 8 Sansol to Logrono 20.8 kms

I woke up in the albergue with my five other bunk mates—Oscar, Laura, Alejandro, Louis and Melania. We had booked a private room together after linking up on the Camino earlier in the day. Actually, I believe the five of them had already been together for a couple of days and they were gracious enough to include me in their pilgrim group. I had first befriended them in Zubrine when I overheard them talking theology at a nearby table and couldn’t help but inserting myself into their conversation.

Leaving Sansol in the early morning hours

We shared the most delicious meal catered by the hosts with about fifteen other pilgrims staying in the hostel in other rooms. I sat across a couple from Korea. Neither of us knew enough of each other’s language to carry on a conversation, but hand motions, raised eyebrows and spontaneous smiles were enough to communicate our delight in the meal and the shared company.

But, back to the morning. Our group of six all started out together in the dark using our headlamps to guide us out of the small village of Sansol. All of us were looking for the first opportunity to stop and have an early morning breakfast and a hot cup of cafe con leche. We didn’t have far to go as the very next village, Torres del Rio, was less than a kilometer away and we immediately settled onto the outdoor patio of the first cafe we found.

I was enjoying being with the group. It was nice to have the companionship, but I was already noticing signs that I kind of wanted to stop when I wanted to stop and start up again when I was ready to start up. But for the moment, we enjoyed some breakfast together and the sarcastic teasing that seemed to be the mark of this little pilgrim group.

There were so many simple delights on the trail this day. We were in wine country and the grapes were ripe. Many of us delighted in grabbing clusters of red-tinted green grapes along the way eating them, sucking out the juice and spitting out the seeds. I wondered if the vineyard owners minded. There were likely a few dozen pilgrims that would pass by these vineyards every day and if all of us helped ourselves it seemed that the vines closest to the trail would be stripped. But there were no signs discouraging us from doing so. In the end, I wondered if this was part of the Camino culture. I wondered if the vineyard owners actually expected us to help ourselves as their contribution to the Camino. It was clear to me that the Camino wasn’t just a trail, but it was a culture.

Not far after that a man sat under a tree playing his guitar for all the pilgrims. I had brought along my ukulele simply for the reason that I thought the Camino might spark some surge of creativity. I had been carrying it on my back for the whole trip so far, but had not pulled it out more than once. The sight of the guitarist and the sound of the rich guitar strings opened up something inside and I was itching to make use of my ukelele soon.

We stopped for a little lunch in the village of Viana, but didn’t find anything that suited all of us. There we got separated as we followed our own little whims around the village. It was there that I noticed another pang of not wanting to have my Camino dictated by others as I spent some time trying to track people down before moving onto the next town. But before that thought had much time to gain traction my attention was drawn to the gathering energy in the square. Children dressed in red and white were gathering together. I could see that some formal celebration was in the works.

As I stood on the side of cobbled street a parade of men, women, and children all dressed in white with red trim streamed by me. Following them were twenty-foot tall figurines of queens and kings. I didn’t understand it, but it was an absolute delight. Only later did I find out that it was the parade that precedes the running of the bulls. If I had stayed another hour I would have seen that as well. But I didn’t know and I joined our little entourage to make our way to the next town.

The welcoming, teasing and playful group of pilgrims who shared with me

It was on the next stretch that I finally admitted that I was ready for more solitude. I had spent seven nights in a row in albergues that ranged from six people to twenty-six people. And I had spent the last twenty-four hours with our little group. When we reached Logrono, our little group was trying to find another albergue that would accommodate all of us as wel.. That is when I decided that I would get my first private room of the Camino.

Up on the third floor of a hotel I plopped all my stuff down in a room with two twin beds, a small table and a private bathroom. Luxury! I was able to spread out, wash my clothes in the sink without competing with others for space, and lie down without the cacophony of multiple voices echoing around me.

I ate a leisurely dinner out on a plaza, although it rained and I had to keep scooting my chair a few inches at a time to stay under the umbrella and shield my plate from the steady moisture.

That night I went to my first Pilgrim Mass at Parroquia De Santiago El Real in Logrono, a Catholic Church. I didn’t understand much of the liturgy, but I did hear numerous references to Santa Maria. We Protestants pride ourselves on the inclusion of women in ministry, but the Catholics really revere the Mother Mary in their prayers and liturgy. It was interesting to think about the ways our churches honor the feminine face of God. In some ways it felt like the Catholics were decades behind the Protestants and in other ways, we Protestants were equally far behind the Catholics.