Searching Gentleness

Last night, as darkness settled over Grañón, we gathered in the choir of San Juan Bautista church. Through a secret passage from the albergue, we entered the silent sanctuary, illuminated only by the altar lights and tea candles burning on either side of each one of us – representing pilgrims past and those yet to come. We sat in ancient choir stalls, the kind once used by monks and nuns, each person enclosed in their own small wooden world.

The hospitalero explained why our pilgrim credentials would have no stamp from this place. “In Santiago, they know we offer no stamp on paper,” she said. “Instead, we hope to leave a stamp on your heart.” The words settled over us like a blessing.

Then came the pilgrim candle ritual. A tall candle, companion to wayfarers for the twenty years this parochial albergue has existed, passed from hand to hand. In a circle of strangers turned temporary family, each spoke in their native language – confessions of loss, outpourings of gratitude, whispers of hope, acknowledgments of struggle. Words unintelligible yet perfectly understood. We closed with the Lord’s Prayer each saying in their mother tongue, a cacophony of languages rising like incense, before embracing one another – the true stamp upon our hearts.

I fell asleep beneath a sloped ceiling, fighting claustrophobia by fixing my gaze either on the small window above, or the distant part of the room where the ceiling rose higher. Despite the cramped space and an inconsiderate alarm at 5:10 (fifty minutes before our agreed rising time), I slept relatively well until 6:00 and joined in for breakfast at 6:30.

Embodied Journey

Today began in my body – the one that carried yesterday’s experiences and today’s hopes. I started walking past 7:00, already later than my usual rhythm. The villages punctuated fields – Redecilla del Camino, Castildelgado, Viloria de Rioja, Villamayor del Río, and then Belorado with its welcoming pilgrim-themed murals and graffiti adorning the walls.

These colorful artworks made the town feel more inviting, much like the small mural that greeted pilgrims upon arrival in Grañón yesterday. These artistic touches add to the sense of hospitality, silent acknowledgments that we belong here, that this path has been prepared for us.

The Corner Stone

The scripture appearing on my Bible app seemed to speak directly to me: “The stone rejected by the builders became the cornerstone.” I carried these words on my rosary beads, ading the remaining “this was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes”. Murmuring these words in Polish with each step, helped me to find unexpected consolation.

Then my right foot began complaining, each toe sending sharp reminders with every stride. After Belorado came Tosantos, Villambistia, and Espinosa del Camino – each church tower on the horizon becoming both milestone and motivation. These visible markers of progress sustained me when pain tried to narrow my world to each difficult step.

My appetite remains strangely absent despite the physical exertion. A couple of pieces of bread with jam at breakfast, a chocolate pastry and apple at rest stops – just enough to keep moving forward. I found myself drinking a light beer upon arrival, craving liquid calories when solid food held no appeal.

By Espinosa del Camino, I rested briefly, but something about the village didn’t resonate, so I pushed on for the final stretch. The sight of Villafranca Montes de Oca emerging on the horizon pulled me forward like a magnet.

Entering the Middle Third

I remember what I heard years ago – that the first third of the Camino is for the body to adjust, the middle for the mind to persevere through doubt, and the final third for the spirit to find freedom in simplicity. Having overcome my fever, I sense myself crossing into that middle territory now, where questions rise with each step: Why continue when it hurts? What am I seeking while life’s complications wait at home?

The separation from Ken across both space and time, our new life in Poland after eleven years in Ireland, the unresolved conflicts with the former landlord that still reach me through messages – all walk alongside me. Yet the rhythm continues. An ensouled body and an embodied soul on pilgrimage, neither purely spiritual nor merely physical, but wholly human – bloody socks and all.

Note to Self: Embracing Comfort

Tonight I rest at San Anton Albergue, recognizing it from my 2019 journey though then I arrived from Santo Domingo, a different person with a different endurance. My 2019 pilgrimage was very much about finding the spirit of pilgrimage in simplicity. But now, six years later, I have aged. Whenever I feel I need to rest or require that little bit of comfort, let me reach out for it without guilt. Especially after sleeping on the floor with just small mattresses and everything very simple, preparing for the next day with some comfort is wisdom, not weakness. The hot shower without queuing and the smaller room offer exactly what this tired pilgrim body needs today.

Summary: Day 12 journey from Grañón to Villafranca Montes de Oca (27.6 km). Walking through Redecilla del Camino, Castildelgado, Viloria de Rioja, Villamayor del Río, Belorado, Tosantos, Villambistia, and Espinosa del Camino. Elevation: from 693m to 949m, with total gain of 466m and loss of 245m. Walking time: approximately 6.5 hours including breaks.

Tea and chocolate pastry on the way: €7. San Anton Albergue: €15. Beer and snacks: €7. Expected dinner cost: approximately €15.