A 1000-Kilometre Pilgrimage Route Across Spain – Part 3

You have to show an ID and your pilgrim’s passport that you use to collect stamps along the way and prove that you’re a pilgrim. We went to a shop, which later became our daily routine, and headed out to try our first menú del día, a three-course pilgrim dinner with the main ingredient of course being olive oil. Surprisingly, we had the whole room all to ourselves, and the bathroom was clean, though we didn’t get much of a goodnight’s sleep. The next day, we followed the 18-kilometre path to Castilblanco de los Arroyos. The path that wound through fields, forests, private estates and olive groves was lovely. We met the first pilgrims and the journey wasn’t very difficult, plus the weather was nice and walking was much easier than the first day. We experienced these sorts of fluctuations more intensively in the subsequent days. After having walked for five hours, including the stops along the way, we were grateful that we decided to pack an extra pair of shoes that were one size larger, so that they gently embraced our swollen feet that weren’t in a very good shape. A cold shower (not by choice) and a bunk bed by the door – a mistake we never made again. We went out for a stroll in town and lingered at the main square, which was full of people of all ages, absorbed in our thoughts. The lights in albergues usually go out at 10 p.m. and pilgrims are supposed to be safely tucked in their sleeping bags by then. We didn’t sleep for long because others were all sleeping soundly and loudly, and certain individuals got up around 5 a.m. My inner balanced slowly started crumbling then. I got up like a zombie and was coming down with a stomach flu. It was for that reason that we drove to the next town of Almadén de la Plata, sought a place to stay and a chemist’s shop, and got some rest. It never really occurred to us that we weren’t in a hurry and could take a day off and spend more time in the town that we left behind, for true pilgrims keep on walking.

The next day we decided to continue our journey, which meant everyone would get up at 7 a.m. and leave earlier. There’s something magical about setting out in the morning; we usually ran into mist on our way and there was only peace and quiet. There were 14 kilometres between the village of El Real de la Jara and us, and we spent the afternoon on a terrace of an albergue, accompanied by beer and pilgrims from other countries. A certain kind of quiet solidarity and connectedness exist among pilgrims that are often manifested in wonderful friendships (as in our case). We were really looking forward to the larger town, which we visited the next day, because that meant a lighter backpack, since we’d decided to send some of our things, which we packed out of vanity, to our final destination that was Santiago. Our pace was just as we wanted it and when we arrived to Monesterio our soles were so burning hot, they could once again be cooled only by beer. Monesterio is also the boundary marker before entering the region of Extremadura that borders Portugal. Our next stop along the way was the town of Fuente de Cantos and we will always remember it as extremely beautiful and clean, and this was also the first place since the start of our journey where we spent the night in a warm room with bed linen and towels. The accommodation even offers a swimming pool and a comfortable terrace in the summer.

There was a 20-kilometre walk to the next town, Zafra, and a Belgian alien Christine, Mitja’s (slightly older) personality twin. I couldn’t resist those two moonies, so while we were on our way we did a little stretching, lay down a little, got some sleep, gave each other a massage, had something to eat and drink, and when we got to the albergue we made delicious dinner together in the evening. My sleep was interrupted by an older Canadian woman who I’d diagnose with nasal septum or sinus problems and our journey to Villafranca de los Barros the next day was somewhat harder because of all the noise. But all the difficulties were once more overshadowed by the landscape with its beautiful olive groves, “home-cooked” eggs with asparagus, and the room in Carmen albergue that we had all to ourselves. Torremejía, which was the next stop along the way, seemed like an abandoned American town. The next day we arrived in Aljucén and it took almost an entire day to get there, and the day after that, we arrived in Alcuéscar and ended up at an actual monastery, where we got a prayer timetable, a cold room with approximately 100 beds, and there was a strict control of the voluntary contribution of pilgrims. I shed a tear upon arrival, but then sucked it up, took a shower and grabbed a beer. An Englishwoman Isabel, with whom we became friends over the next two days and who gladly helped us deplete the stocks of wine, had similar thoughts. The monastery kitchen staff prepared delicious soup and paella, which helped us get through the following rainy day and made walking to Valdesalor and later Cáceres easier. We booked a private room where we could enjoy the benefits of the whole floor, and to top it all off, it was the first time since in a really long time that we were also able to wash our things, our hair, ourselves, everything. The next day, with a spring in our step, we set out on a 36-kilometre walk to Embalse de Alcántara, one of the most beautiful stages of the entire El Camino and a really interesting albergue that looked like a concrete prison on the outside; it was there that we also saw a few familiar faces again.

We’ve learned quite a few things in these mere 14 days, one of the most interesting being the observation that when you shake off all mental blocks, El Camino turns into an incredible journey. I would recommend it to anyone who wants to take a break from work or basically anything that requires mental effort. El Camino is all about physical effort and that is definitely a welcome change. Of course, you still need a few days off after El Camino to give your body some rest.