Sunday Lifestyles

Rewards of a walk: Finding friends, religion on The Way

Finding friends, religion on The Way

Editor's note: This is the third and final installment of the series.

Experiencing the aches and pains of long distance hiking, and then thinking how many days to the end can easily lead to discouragement. A distance of 180 miles is a lot of miles. It is doable, but it really is a mental game.

I learned on my annual trips to the Sierras in California that parts of each day, and certainly the entire trip must be compartmentalized. Each day I focused only on that day, and did not even consider the next day until around dinner time. The entire walk took 14 days. Distance is measured in kilometers in Europe so I was constantly doing the math. A kilometer is 0.62 miles. In Spain stone monuments marked the distance to Santiago de Compostella.

Along a trek of great distance we were fortunate to meet many people. There are persons of all ages, shapes and sizes on The Way. I estimate 75% women. Saturdays and Sundays seemed to bring out weekend warriors who were hiking along for what time they had available. The last week was Holy Weeks so I think many of the younger people were on vacation from school. One only has to hike 100 kilometers to be officially recognized by the Pilgrim Office. Toward the end there were a lot more people on the road doing the minimum distance.

During the course of the journey we did run into some of the same people so we made friendly acquaintances. I like to stop and chat, and that increased our interactions along the way. I recall two ladies from Estonia, a group of ladies from England, and several persons from Germany. We did develop a friendship with a man named Achim from Germany. We met for dinner each night for over half the trip. A certain camaraderie or kinship develops when people are focused on the same activity and goal. Back in Germany, Achim works for the bank providing investment advice. He is married with two teenage sons. He spent time in the German military as a paratrooper when he was younger.

A highlight of each day was encountering the very old stone churches that were present in every town or village. The closest church we have here that would be comparable would be the Basilica in Lackawanna. I was a bit concerned that we would miss Sunday Mass on Palm Sunday and Easter. The Good Lord was with us and we were able to attend Mass on both the vigil before Sunday, and on Sunday. The Mass was in Spanish so I had no idea what the readings were, nor the Homily, but the second part of the Mass with the Consecration was very evident and meaningful. The reverence of those in these churches far surpasses what we have been accustomed to in the Diocese of Buffalo. That, in conjunction with the ornate alters and ancient feel of the structures really provided a good feeling on the state of the church amongst the laity, at least in Portugal and Spain.

On Good Friday and Saturday we were privileged to witness grand processions where the participants were clothed in robes and long pointy hats. I believe these harken back to the Spanish Inquisition. Each church would carry a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or Crucifix through town on a platform supported by approximately 20 men.

My legs started to give out about three days from the end. Shin splints and a few blisters had me hobbling into Compostella like an old man. At 68 I don't see myself in that category yet. I wished I had brought some ace bandages to wrap around my ankles for more support. I did bring “moleskin” bandages to protect the blisters.

We entered Santiago de Compostella on day 14. It was exciting to sight the spires of the Cathedral from a distance and then through the narrow streets which led to the grand courtyard in front of the Cathedral. It is a tourist destination, so there were plenty of shops and small cafes and restaurants. After a few pictures we headed to the Pilgrim, or Peregino Office and obtained our Compostella Certificate. As it was early in the Camino season we were able to get that done without any line or waiting. From there we were able to get into the magnificent Cathedral and saw the silver casket which contains the remains of St. James. Later that evening we attended the Pilgrim Mass at the Cathedral. They did not swing the iconic incense pot but it was a fitting end to the Journey and Pilgrimage.

After another day in Compostella, eating more bread and sipping white wine, we took a bus to Lisbon and the next morning my son Patrick and I flew out separately. Bus and train transportation are very convenient and affordable. The flying experience is simply put, just terrible. Thousands of people in line in Washington DC to clear Customs. Regardless, the trip was not supposed to be easy. It was good to get back home to Fredonia.

George H. Burns III is a Fredonia resident.