“Chronicle of a pilgrim who arrived in Santiago dragging his soul”
I have not arrived in Santiago...
inertia has brought me.
Because one does not walk into the Plaza del Obradoiro.
One enters dragging one's dignity in the form of a backpack.
You see the cathedral and think:
—“How beautiful, what emotion, what a spiritual moment.”
And your feet say:
—“We are no longer feet. We are memories.”
I have done the Camino de Santiago looking for inner peace…
and I have found:
- Peace
– Interior
– And a blister that looks like a Galician dumpling
Because no one warns you that the Camino is like this:
You start thinking “this is going to change my life.”
and you end up thinking “if I get there alive I promise to go barefoot through Ikea for the rest of my existence.”
People say:
—“The Camino is a spiritual experience.”
Spiritual is when your soul is separated from your body and they go on different routes.
I arrived at the square and it happened to me like in the documentaries:
I took off my backpack
I took off my boots
and I lost the desire to exist for ten minutes.
Lying there on the ground, looking at the sky, I thought:
“Lord, thank you for bringing me here…
But give me back the cufflinks, which I have left in Burgos.”
The best thing is that you hug people you don't know:
—“Brother, we have achieved it.”
—“I don't know who you are, but we have suffered together.”
That creates a bond stronger than a marriage:
shared sweat
seen blisters
and socks that should be illegal.
And then there is the beer moment.
Because no one comes saying:
—“I'm going to pray.”
No.
You arrive saying:
—“Where is the closest bar to God?”
Beer in Santiago is not refreshing:
healing.
You drink one and:
– you have knees again
– your eyelashes grow back
– and you start saying:
“Well, it wasn't that bad…”
LIE.
It's been horrible.
Marvelous.
Awful.
Marvelous.
Because you come out saying:
“I will never do this shit again.”
But two weeks later:
"You know what? Maybe next year another little way..."
The Camino de Santiago does not end at the cathedral.
It ends when:
– you take off your boots
– they don't smell like death
– and you can sit without making old furniture noises
