The Sarria Syndrome...

What’s it all about and why? 

There’s a goal for the 278,000 Pilgrims who walked/biked the Camino in 2016. They were all matriculating through Spain in order to graduate with a Compostela Certificate. (I call it earning your Diploma). 

The Certificate is a classy looking piece of beige paper with lots of Latin words printed on it. There’s a space reserved for your name (in Latin) once you prove you have the  required kilometers/mileage distance for Camino-Ing to Santiago de Compostela, Spain. 

The minimum distance for walking is 100 Kilometers (62 Miles). The small city of Sarria is (according to my map guide) 118 K away from Santiago’s Cathedral. Eureka! Pilgrims can earn a Diploma with less than a week’s worth of sweat labor by starting there.  And that’s  just what 70,000 late coming Pilgrims did in 2016. Thus, I call it the Sarria Syndrome. An already crowded Camino gets more so. 

To prove One walked the walk, a Pilgrim’s Credentials are eventually presented in Santiago. The Credentials are a Passport looking multi-folded piece of paper which  get stamped as you amble through the Spanish Countryside. Churches, Visitor Centers, Alburgues, Hotels and Bars all have rubber stamps. I never tire of seeing adults play Treasure Hunt to get a “Thump!” stamp. 

I’m proud to say my 2006 and 2013 Credentials had the highest recorded number of Bar Stamps ever presented to the Santiago Office. When the Official Clerk asked me the reason for my Camino. I said “Spiritual!” without blinking.  Drinking beer or wine has always been an enlightening experience for me. 

In 2013, I had to walk 28, 10, 29 and 6 Miles/day in order to find an accommodation fitting the high standards of a Jewish Prince who sleeps in a Van for many months at a time. In other words, I wanted a bed and my own bathroom. I wasn’t seeking the Ritz Carlton. I had to go these distances in 2013, all the other hotels were booked with Sarria starting Pilgrims. 

A few days ago, I went to Saint Booking.com to see if I could piece together an entryway to Santiago from Sarria. For two hours, I tried many combinations of towns and distances. Nothing obvious or practical was lining up. Apparently the hotels are booked up once again. 

So...from Sarria, I’ll partake in the Camino de Choo-Choo to Santiago. From that BUSY city, I’ll walk to the End of the World (Fisterra) to stare at the Atlantic Ocean. This stretch has always been a favorite of mine. I’m sure it will be once again.

BTW, you may now address me as Don Godefridum Sambur. That’s my Latin name written on two Certificates sitting in a duffle bag in Boulder, Colorado.

Cheers from Triacastela, Spain

Godefridum 

Aussies Saved my Camino...

Again.

In 2013, my second Camino began at a koala’s pace as far as the social scene went. I was Happy Houring and eating alone too often.

Fortunately for me I performed a Waltzing Matilda into two Aussie couples on a World Wide Walk-About. 

Melanie, Chris, Daniele and Martin allowed me to hang within their kangaroo pouches. They were fun, funny, interesting and told great yarns about the exotic places they’ve been. They didn’t seem to mind the fact I was the same age as their parents. These youngsters seemed to get a kick out of me for-how do I say this. Uniqueness? 

Through them I met other Pilgrims for many multi-national, multi-generational Happy Hours. Camino 2013 turned out to be swell. I owe it to them.

Camino 2017, as I’ve mentioned before has been different. Nationalism and technology is the New Order of the day. There’s an over abundance of Americans here, much to the chagrin of the Europeans. I don’t  blame the Continental Locals for these feelings. The current invasion has been on a D-Day scale minus the bullets and bombs. Once again I found myself eating and drinking alone.

That changed on the outskirts of Burgos. On a Sunday morning I bolted from the city high on caffeine but low on calories. I was famished when I pulled into a suburban cafe. I ordered the old standby Tortilla de Patatas. (Egg and potato omelette) with tomatoes on crusty white bread. The cafe owners were sort of in hysterics over my pantomime of what I wanted to eat. Out of the kitchen came a Nautilus class submarine sized sandwich of Tortilla de Patatas. That’s Big. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two women glancing at me in a stranger than normal way. Their look said it all. How the heck can a little man like him eat all that? They were right. I couldn’t. This being the Camino, I offered them half. They politely declined. With their few words I  detected the unmistakable twang of Fair Dinkum Aussies. This is how I met Toni and Catherine. 

Our hemispheres cross every few days. Either I or they would perform the International Sign of please take-a-seat and join me/us. Once comfortable the first question is, “what are you drinking?” Then they will regale me with their Camino tales.

Long distance trekking is foreign to them. Toni confessed, “I don’t even like to walk!” Yet, they are typical Aussie tough despite the blisters, sore muscles and achy joints. They make light of their plight. They exemplify the Aussie “She’ll be Right!” Attitude. 

Yesterday, Catherine told a story of a plugged up drain in an Alburgue’s communal shower. She went on to elaborate about her virtual swim in other Pilgrims effluent. 

She summed up the funky experience this way, “It was shocking!” Classic Aussie understatement. I howled. They both make me laugh. This is something that’s gone missing from Camino III. More Pilgrims equates to less human interaction. Sad but seemingly true. 

If you’ve read this far, you might think I’m having a miserable time here. Not at all. This Camino might not be my favorite but this has been the most enjoyable European journey I’ve ever taken.  Chasing yellow arrows through the Iberian landscape has provided me with a perfect excuse to be in Spain once again. Which if you haven’t figured it out is a superb place to be. 

Plus, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting two Awesome Aussies who bring a smile to my face.

Thanks Catherine and Toni for making this Camino like Old Times even for brief moments.

Next post will be about the upcoming Sarria Syndrome portion of this Pilgrimage. 

Until then, Buen Camino,

Jeff

“I’m in a good

Place,” is an often used line one would hear on an Oprah show. More than likely the reference would be in the spiritual sense of place rather than the physical one. 

On this Camino de Santiago Third Edition, I’m nailing this cliche on both levels. I’ve accepted the concept that “Santiago Provides.” 

When I leave my hotel in the early morning, I’m running on an empty stomach. That is unless one counts three cappuccinos as a source of calories. I’ve come to believe I’ll find something edible along the Way.  Whenever I’m running out of water, there’s a spigot oozing cool liquid in a rest area. If I go off-course, there’s someone verbally pushing me  in the right direction. It’s sort of a carefree trip. 

The one thing Santiago doesn’t provide is shelter for a Wandering Wondering Jewish Prince. For that, I count on Saint Booking.com.

Sure, it’s a somewhat disjointed Camino crowd. I’ve only learned a few names.  Once in awhile a fellow Pilgrim will offer me a seat at a table. A few generous folks have bought a round of drinks. Most of my time is spent solo. Nationalism and technology seems to be the Rule of the Road. Yanks gravitate towards fellow countrymen. Each town boasts a version of the “Hotel California,” where the residents are predominantly Americans. Booking.com seems to place me where the Europeans Pilgrims reside. I’m OK with that. They seem to enjoy this outsider’s smile and off-the-cuff manner. Like I’ve mentioned previously, Camino 2017  is definitely different. 

Ahh, but the weather has been wonderful, the food is fresh, tasty and plentiful. (The cost is less than a visit to a Macdonald’s). The beer is served up in icy mugs accompanied by a bowl of oily olives. (Gratis). It’s good to be in Spain right here, right now. 

Soon, I’ll be departing from the Meseta. Leaving the Land of Flat won’t bring a tear to my eye. I’m never sentimental about escaping from the clods of dirt, endless fields of stubble and the vast distances between quaint Spanish villages. A week-plus of walking here is plenty for this Lover of Altitude. Manana, I’ll be in the Bright Lights-Big City of León. Soon thereafter, I’ll be taking my first break after 22 days of Westerly Wandering. I’m looking forward to it. 

From Marsilla de las Mulas, (and about half way to Finesterre.)

Salud,

Jeff