Camino de Santiago post (written 10/13/2016)

Day 6: Terradillos de los Templarios to Calzadillas de los Hermanillos


I am reminded of the peace and purpose of the Camino as I sit in this small village today. And I have to write about it. I was originally planning another entry about the ugliness and monotony of the senda, but was instantly taken by the village. I need to capture this moment.


After staying in quite a few larger towns and private albergues so far, I was a bit disappointed when I arrived at my destination today. As I walked into the village, I quickly turned up my nose at the municipal albergue as I passed it, and went in search of greener pastures, or simply, more posh albergues.


As I wandered the streets, I asked a small shop owner the location of a private albergue noted in my book. As he saw my confusion while explaining in rapid Spanish, he promptly shut up his shop and walked me to it.


While we were walking, I commented how it was a peaceful town, and he quickly agreed – “muy tranquillo”, with an emphasis on “muy”. When I asked him how long he lived here, his reply was, “all my life.”


We arrived a few minutes later and he showed me the albergue. I thanked him and he returned to his shop. As I checked into the place, the owner’s first question was – “are you tired?” Not an oft-recited line of amenities, hours, and prices, but a genuine question of my welfare. That struck me.


Unfortunately, the private albergue only had shared rooms with prices upwards of €15. I politely thanked her, then slinked to the municipal one across the street.


It was bare-bones – it didn’t offer food or alcohol, it lacked an outside sitting area, it lacked any comfortable chairs, and had a simple and spartan arrangement of only the necessities.


I was, in the least, slightly disappointed.


Then I remembered what that last lady asked me – am I tired? With that, I was quickly reminded of the albergue’s purpose. The albergue is not there to offer all the comforts of home with the added convenience of a bar or restaurant. It’s not there as a cheap hotel. It’s not there as a party place. It’s there for the pilgrim to shower, wash clothes, and sleep. With the Camino exploding in popularity and entrepreneurship following suit and fueling competition along The Way, that’s an easy thing to forget.


I did when I came to do. I showered, washed clothes, and laid out my bedding for the night. Then, instead of sitting at the albergue and drinking beer while surfing Wi-Fi, I went for a walk.


As I passed through the village, I saw old men and women talking while standing on the curbs just outside their homes; I saw a young couple walking with their newborn and be greeted excitedly by friends and family; I saw old men sitting on park benches and chatting their siesta time away. I went back to visit that shop owner and buy a tube of toothpaste. As I was just outside the store, a young lady (likely his family) exclaimed – “go to the store!” He was happy to see me, grateful for my purchase, and asked me to tell my fellow pilgrims of his shop.


He’s just trying to make a living. And this is a poor village. It’s evident everywhere. But there’s a peace and closeness here I can’t describe. It pervades this place.


I now sit outside a 13th-century church and in an adjoining park and listen to the multitudes of birds both in the trees and in the steeple. The church and park are also worn down – there are cracks in the cement, the center fountain is missing a piece of it, and the church has unpatched and unbricked holes in the walls.


But there is certainly peace and love here. I feel it.


Buen Camino.