This was only the second time in my longish life that it had happened... I woke up, tried to get out of bed, and found I had lost the use of my legs. The first time, ten years earlier, had been after an op and general anaesthetic. Now I was just turning 70 and it was the
morning after I’d walked 18 miles in one day – on Europe’s great pilgrimage route the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.
My immediate reaction was slight panic. My next was to ask myself again: what am I doing here? The answer was that friends (much younger) had asked me to join them for the last five days and 71 miles of the Camino through northern Spain – and another friend (a bit older) had quelled my fearful reluctance by telling me, ‘Just do it! If you don’t, you’ll regret it.’
In earlier years, I had run marathons, and hiked into the Australian Outback, down the Grand Canyon, across the Atlas Mountains, and over Andean volcanos – but wasn’t it now time to stop?
With my knees aching regularly and nagging pain from an arthritic toe, I had thought the answer might be yes. But I had decided to rage against the dying of the joints and see whether I could make it. And, yes, people do get seriously hurt or even die on the Camino – as this trip was to prove. The rewards, though, are high – and not just the lovely certificate (the compostela) confirming that you’ve completed your pilgrimage.
My walk began on a wet autumn morning with Gary, 39, his partner, Carmen, 36, and his mum, Marilyn, 66. When I asked Marilyn, who had extensive arthritis, why she was here, she said, ‘I’m a nutter.’ But later she admitted, ‘Because it’s a challenge.’
Like me, she wanted to see if her ageing body could still do what it used to. And, like me, she’s pretty stubborn.
We headed west after a night in Sarria, a grim and foggy Galician town with buildings resembling prison blocks. And we were soon in the beautiful green hills, forests and idyllic hamlets through which much of the Camino would take us.
It would also lead us into the kind of apocalyptic rain that makes you wish someone had built a new Ark.
One of the great lessons of the Camino, path to the tomb of St James, renowned for its transformative insights, is: pack waterproofs.
I found that you also need the madcap humour of a Gary, the questing curiosity of a Carmen and the true grit of a Marilyn.
A man who had all these was Ken, 77, a retired US military man from Dallas, by whose side I walked on our second day, from Portomarin to Palas de Rei. This section had the steepest hills, yet Ken powered on. He’d spent two years training for the Camino, while my preparation had been, er, two walks across London.
But, still, Ken was doing the whole 480 miles of ‘the French Way’ from St Jean Pied de Port, while we were doing the minimum required to get your compostela.
Ken was walking in short stages – to ensure he could successfully tick the Camino off his bucket list. He had done 40 days when I encountered him, and he had met people from 31 different countries. The meeting and greeting of fellow pilgrims (with a ‘Buen Camino!’) is a big part of walking the Way.
Ken said he hadn’t seen anyone older than him on the path but he had heard that day, via social media, that a 92-year- old woman had just arrived in Santiago.
Some don’t make it at all. Regular shrines along the Camino (mostly to middle-aged men) made it clear nothing was guaranteed. It’s tempting to say it’s not that tough a walk, but actually it’s bloody hard – on the feet, legs, back and, sometimes, the spirit. But I was with people who wouldn’t even cut a corner – they were doing every last step.
The first casualty we saw was a young Frenchwoman being bandaged up by the side of the path by other caminantes. She had sprained her ankle but was saying it wouldn’t stop her. We weren’t entirely surprised she’d had a fall – earlier, she had run downhill ahead of us with a huge backpack bouncing around.
Later we met a Canadian woman who had slipped and broken her arm when there were still 190 miles to go – she was now completing the latter stages, some on foot, some by taxi.
But the big shock came on the morning of that 18-mile third day to Arzua, which ominously was also Spain’s Day of the Dead.
The Camino is mainly off-road but occasionally it crosses major highways, like the one outside Palas de Rei. In the gloom of a wet, windy morning, we made it across safely – but at Pilgrim in El our late-breakfast stop,
Acebo, León in the village of Casanova, we heard that another pilgrim hadn’t been so lucky that day. He’d been hit by a car and killed. Stunned walkers had seen the body covered up and taken away.
On the fifth day, we finally arrived at the Cathedral of Santiago, resting place of James the Apostle, patron saint of Spain, in yet more pouring rain. This time we were side by side, our arms linked, to cross the finishing line together. We must have looked bedraggledly triumphant, and we earned applause from waterproofed onlookers.
In the downpour the cathedral looked grim, but the following day, with our compostelas in our rucksacks, we were blessed with blue skies and sunshine, and saw the majesty of the building and visited the tomb of St James.
Backpacks can be couriered from one stopover to the next – but I carried mine all the way. If you’re going to give yourself a hard time, you might as well do it properly.
So by the end, every part of me ached. But the feeling of revelation was undeniable– drawn from conversations on the Way, from the green beauty of Galicia, and from pushing the body to its limits.
The Camino is a metaphor for life. We are all the same on this road – all travelling in the same direction, with the same ultimate destination. Sometimes we have to endure setbacks and pain, but if we recognise that we are all frail mortals, and if we support one another, the journey can be joyful.
And what did I do on that morning my legs failed to function? I followed Marilyn’s example, waited a few minutes, got myself up, had a laugh with my fellow pilgrims ... and did another 12 miles ... and another 11 miles the day after that.
And I found that the Camino doesn’t end – its lessons and its spirit remain with you.
Follow the Camino offers Sarria-to- Santiago packages from £532: www. followthecamino.com. EasyJet flies London Gatwick-Santiago, from £200 return. Independent travellers will find Airbnb useful; albergues (hostels), around €15pp a night, are listed at alberguescamino.com
