– a tale of pursuit on the Camino
Pilgrims of all nationalities were encountered along Camino Frances in 2019. One individual and group stay in my memory.
People would come across one another and exchange stories. My solo pilgrimage across the high plateau of the Meseta was broken when for several days I walked intermittently with a middle aged Israeli man. His name is long forgotten, but he had limited English allowing for dialogue and sharing of experiences. I was using Polarsteps App, a useful tool on phone that allowed those at home to know my whereabouts. Mr Israeli was keen for me to use his App.
My pace generally outstripped that of Mr Israeli, but on the days our timings did coincide, his eyes would light up. I was seventy, recently widowed, his wife was at home, he was somewhat intense.
After a very hot morning’s effort I arrived sweaty at Sahagun, the halfway point on the Camino. As I checked into the hostel Mr Israeli spied me, and suggested we meet for lunch. This was rejected in favour of showering and doing laundry, with the throwaway line, “I might see you later”.
The afternoon was spent exploring Sahagun. In the evening my heart sank as I entered the bar to see Mr Israeli waiting. I dashed past him when I heard English speakers and asked with desperation “Help! Can you rescue me!” Seven Irish women surrounded me, listened to my story, kindness personified. A memorable meal was enjoyed as I was plied with cheap Spanish wine.
Next day Mr Israeli set off earlier than me as I determined he had a good head start in his day’s journey. Dervilla, Sinead, Siobhan, Ros, Sarah, Grace, and Helen wished me well as I departed. With much hilarity the tale of my protection by these lovely Irish women was shared with other pilgrims along the way.
There was a sequel to this tale. Two days later I was in Mansilla de las Mulas buying an apple. This was dropped as I spied the Irish girls passing by and dashed outside. I greeted them, and they in turn told me about a Welsh couple whom they had also met. Very quickly Martyn and Julie with whom I had shared my tale had concluded the Irish girls had been my recent saviours.
Undoubtedly my story of solo pilgrimage to Santiago for my husband’s first anniversary had also been shared. Thus reputations were built along the way.
I never saw Mr Israeli again.
Marie-Therese
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