T -7 Accommodations on the Road

Yup. I’m late posting. A sibling visits, there’s pizza, there’s wine, and poof, I’m off schedule…

One of the really cool things for me on the Camino is the lifestyle in refugios. Refugios are a kind of simplistic hostel (an oxymoron?), usually sleeping 50-75 bunk bed style, sharing bathrooms at ratios of about 1:15 people. Lights shut off automatically at 10:00 PM and come on at 6:00; the trek felt more like a kid’s camp initially. I wasn’t looking forward to this aspect of my walk when I set out. But the overnight accommodations proved foreign in ways I hadn’t expected.

I find it easy to criticize. I wish it weren’t so. Aggressive and arrogant behavior seems prevalent everywhere - roads, stores, offices, my own neighborhood. Occasions for rudeness are easily stoked, and seem increasingly frequent. I know when I feel stressed it’s easier to join the ranks of the belligerent. I don’t often instigate such events, but I am at times too willing to jump in if someone else does. Self righteous indignation provides the justification. Not much of an excuse... I hate it when I do that, especially as the years mount and I know better.

The Camino somehow de-stresses and re-aligns attitudes very quickly without one really being conscious its happening. Within a day or two it becomes apparent that moving more quickly is futile against the task of walking 800 kilometers. Most travelers book 35-40 days to do it; speed is not needed, endurance is. This generosity of time, the natural beauty of Spain, less access to cell phones and laptops , the meditative state of walking, and a sense of what might be called a feeling of grace, permeates pilgrims of the road. These de-compress the high pressure of home life, and calm the spirit. It’s what happened to me and many others I met on the road to Santiago.

The feeling is mesmerizing; renewing my belief the vast majority of people are decent and considerate when given the opportunity. This transition first displays itself in the nighttime gathering places. In refugios crowded with double high beds, I often shared one access isle with three other adults, yet never witnessed aggression or flared temper. I found it particularly impressive early mornings when, one-by-one, we individually blocked the tiny isleway to assemble strewn backpack paraphernalia, stuff it into the bag, and head out onto the trail. Politeness and a ‘you-first’ attitude were present every morning. Adjacent bunkmates watch patiently from their bed for the first, then second, then third to follow this ritual, the last waiting as much as twenty minutes to get underway. It’s a small act; but contagious as inspiration.

I stayed in centuries old monasteries, and Celtic farmhouses; a straw bale house and a wealthy family’s summer resort. Racked and stacked with many other nationalities, I was inexplicably wrapped in a curious bond of fellowship each evening. My bond seemed to deepen, new faces were more valued, more respected the farther I walked. Decency brought camaraderie, grew as our league of nations trekked to the western horizon. The process warmed my soul, proverbial chicken soup on a cold day, and brought a greater kindness, kinship and eventually a presence of the spiritual, both with each other and with something greater.

The smallest refugio I experienced housed 20 people in several rooms, the largest 110 in one big room. Here’s a list of refugios of the Camino http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/pilgrim-hostels/