People go on pilgrimages for many different reasons. Even in the 21st century, spiritual reasons probably dominate. The group I travelled with, known to themselves only as the Cofraternity of Repentant Hedge Fund managers, juggled the twin pillars of God and Bacchus adroitly. Arriving in Santiago after a week’s trekking, the sight of the Cathedral made the grown men weep, and head towards the nearest bar. As the waiter brought bottles of champagne and crayfish to the table, the group toasted each other and the large amounts of money raised for charity. This was not a pilgrimage for pilgrims, this was a pilgrimage for executive pilgrims.
The Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage is an ancient path that follows many routes. Our group was on the Camino Frances (The French way), which went over the Pyrenees and across the farmlands and forest tracks of Northern Spain into Santiago. This is where the remains of the apostle Saint James (San Tiago) now rest. It is said that James left Jerusalem after Christ’s death, with the intent of evangelising Spain. Having had little success, he returned to Jerusalem, only to be beheaded by Herod Agrippa. The remains of his body were carried away in the dead of night by James’s followers and placed in a boat, only to float off unguided to Iria Flavia in Northwest Spain. About 800 years later, strange happenings started to occur in the field where St. James’s body was buried. A mysterious star was observed and enchanting music was heard there. As news spread, pilgrims began to come to the Field of the Star of Campus Stellae.
For an executive pilgrimage, our journey was not without its challenges. The route was hilly, unsteady underfoot, and the weather changeable – it could change from very cold and foggy early in the morning to unpleasantly hot during the day. Our ranks were thinned by foot ailments, which resulted in a mildly amusing evening spent at a local Spanish hospital, where the author was the only Spanish-speaker among the group, and had to find Spanish words for, among other things: ganglia, deep-vein thrombosis, torn ligaments, blood clots and internal bruising. One of the team couldn’t go any further, which didn’t stop his partner from demanding the immediate use of a horse at the local hospital, in broken Spanish. Spanish medical healthcare is notoriously good, but even still…
The route we followed was really quite beautiful. Starting from Sarria, we walked to Portomarin, then Palas de Rei, then Melide in A Coruna, and finally Santiago. Though the daily distances were long (we walked approximately 20 miles most days, though the last day was much shorter), the landscapes and passing pilgrims were enough to ward off the boredom of the dusty path. The route traced across villages, sometimes into someone’s back garden or just outside the kitchen of an ancient crone whose cooking skills far exceeded anything I’d tasted before. Pigs ears, pardon peppers, octopus, local cheeses, stews and seafood dishes- these meals could be eaten along the route at any number of small kitchen inns or local bars. Indeed, the presence of the pilgrimage seemed to keep up an economy that was otherwise non-sustainable. This proliferation of bars also fulfilled the requirement that pilgrims have their certificate stamped at least twice a day, mainly (and conveniently) in bars and hostels. Once you have finished the route, the Pilgrimage Bureau (Oficina de Peregrinacion) in Santiago check your pass, ask you several questions and present you with a certificate. This certificate, which requires a minimum of 100 kilometres on foot or 200 on a horse, will redeem your past sins up to the time of arrival; if you complete this on a Holy Year (next year), the penance is even greater.
The Cofraternity made quite an impression along the route, particularly given the fact that one of the pilgrims was a Scotsman in a kilt and a bandaged leg, several of the members were wearing bright orange wigs, and one of the pilgrims (my father) was wearing a penance round his neck for extreme and unnecessary competitiveness. All of us wore the shells round our neck, the ornament adopted to symbolise the tomb of the apostle and identify fellow pilgrims along the route. Though the pilgrimage was an enjoyable and light-hearted (though still physically taxing) trip, it was clear that not everyone treated this trip quite as lightly. The majority of the pilgrims along the route are Spanish, and to them, as it is to me, the pilgrimage is an important cultural experience. Some of the pilgrims are Christians, and the sight of nuns and priests in habits and backpacks is immensely moving. It is hard for a modern pilgrims to understand the impact such a pilgrimage had on Western European culture. It practically created tourism, albeit in a superior spiritual form and was instrumental in the reintegration of Christian Spain into Europe. Notably, it also created a concept of ‘Europeanness’ among its participants. The popularity of the pilgrimage peaked in the 11th and 12th centuries, when as many as half a million pilgrims a year would make the journey. Though we were not travelling in the high season (which is July), there was always a pilgrim or two on the path with us for the entire week, and the density increased as we got nearer to Santiago. The pilgrimage fits into the 21st century because of the breadth of its appeal: it works for students, sports-enthusiasts, the rich and the poor, the religious and the godless. It clearly makes virtually everybody better –even an agnostic like myself can see the beauty and attraction of the religious experience, where I might not have seen it elsewhere.
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Pretty drugs!
