The Camino and Me Counselling and Psychotherapy

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    • Cork – St Jean Pied de Port
      • Day 1; St Jean Pied de Port – Roncesvalles
      • Day 2; Roncesvalles – Zubiri
      • Day 3; Zubiri – Pamplona
      • Day 4; Pamplona to Obanos
      • Day 5; Obanos – Estella
      • Day 6; Estella – Los Arcos
      • Day 7; Los Arcos – Logroño
      • Day 8; Logroño – Ventosa
      • Day 9; Ventosa – Cirueña
      • Day 10; Cirueña – Santo Domingo de la Calzada
      • Day 11; Santo Domingo – Belorado
      • Day 12; Belorado – San Juan de Ortega
      • Day 13; San Juan de Ortega – Burgos
      • Day 14; Burgos – Hontanas
      • Day 15; Hontanas – Castrojeriz
      • Day 16; Castrojeriz – Frómista
      • Day 17; Frómista – Carrión de los Condes
      • Day 18; Carrión de los Condes – Ledigos
      • Day 19; Ledigos – Calzadilla de los Hermanillos
      • Day 20; Calzadilla de los Hermanillos – Mansilla de las Mulas
      • Day 21; Mansilla de las Mulas – León
      • Day 22; Leon – Hospital de Órbigo
      • Day 23; Hospital de Órbigo – Astorga – 15 km
      • Day 24; Astorga – Foncebadón – 27.2 km
      • Day 25; Foncebadón- Ponferrada – 25 km
      • Day 26; Ponferrada – Villafranca del Bierzo – 23.5 km
      • Day 27; Villafranca del Bierzo – La Faba – 25 km
      • Day 28; La Faba – Triacastela – 26 km
      • Day 29; Triacastella – Sarria – 25 km
      • Day 30; Sarria – Portomarín – 22.4 km
      • Day 31; Portomarín – Palas de Rei – 24.8 km
      • Day 32; Palas de Rei – Ribadiso – 25.8 km
      • Day 33; Ribadiso – Lavacolla – 32 km
      • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye
      • The Camino and Me
  • Themes
    • Stepping into the Ring
    • Enjoying the mystery
    • Fear and Courage
    • Risk and Vulnerability
    • Meeting and Letting go
    • Giving In
  • Tag: Villafranca del Bierzo

    • Day 27; Villafranca del Bierzo – La Faba – 25 km

      Posted at 5:34 pm by Mary Murphy, on April 6, 2020

      At breakfast, I met Kirsten and Branu and we talked about how far we would walk that day. It appeared that most pilgrims were focused on getting to the top of the mountain to a village called O Cebreiro, thirty kilometres from Villafranca. To reach it, we had a choice of routes: the shorter road route with a steep climb at the end, or the longer mountain route with a steep climb at both ends. Those intent on making it to O Cebreiro in one day took the shorter road route to save their energy for the ascent at the end of the day. As my feet and I disliked road walking, we decided to take the longer mountain route and stay overnight in a small village part way up the second mountain.

      Kirsten left the albergue with me. She seemed very nervous about making a mistake and sought confirmation from others as we were leaving town. For her, the events of the previous day must have still been vivid. At the place where we needed to decide whether to take the mountain or the road route, I felt very clear about which way I was going, despite the steep climb that was immediately evident. However, Kirsten was torn, probably because Branu wasn’t with us; she didn’t know which way he would go, or when and if they would be reunited. She seemed to feel swayed towards the road route, as all the pilgrims we met were going that way. I advised her to do whatever she wanted, since I would still take the mountain route whatever her decision. At the same time, there was a small voice inside my head wondering if it was really so wise to be going up a mountain on my own. After some hesitation Kirsten came with me, although I knew she still felt uncertain about her decision. A kilometre or so later, when we looked below us, we saw the pilgrim procession along the road in the distance and agreed that we had made the right decision.

      Crossing the mountain we met only two people: one a local farmer and the other a fast-moving pilgrim. After ten kilometres we arrived in the town where the two routes converged. For me it couldn’t come soon enough. Tiredness had really hit me as I descended, and thoughts of a chocolate croissant with a café con leche kept me motivated for the last kilometre or two. Half an hour later we took off again along the road. By then it was midday and hot, and my feet were really objecting to the hard road surface. Although I slowed down, my Achilles tendon ached and I became more and more ill-tempered. If truth be told, I really wanted to walk alone, but I couldn’t see how I could get away. I knew Kirsten would follow no matter how far I went. She had to be with me and I resented her dependence on me. I didn’t want to make small talk or big talk; I didn’t want to talk at all. Just walking was as much as I could manage.

      Although I didn’t have a clear plan as to where exactly I would stay, I hoped to make it to La Faba, a village five kilometres from O Cebreiro. Kirsten had heard about a ‘hippy albergue’ in La Faba and wanted to stay there; initially I agreed. However, when we arrived in the village, a man told me about an alternative hostel and advised that it was the best place he had stayed so far. An unsolicited albergue recommendation was very rare, so I knew it warranted an investigation. But Kirsten didn’t want to come with me, so we were at another point of conflict, just as we had been at the beginning of the day. While I was clear about where I was going, Kirsten was reluctant. As I walked away she stood undecided at the top of a little hill, although I guessed she would follow me in the end.

      The albergue was well run by a couple of German women, and on arrival I felt really welcomed, not something I had experienced everywhere. Often, arriving at an albergue was a very impersonal, transactional experience. It was always so nice to be greeted warmly and to have a sense that the hospitalero had some insight into what it took to continue to walk each day. As the German hospitalero enquired about my day, my reply was overheard by a male pilgrim passing through the foyer. ‘I recognise that accent,’ he said. He had clearly arrived sometime before me, as he was already showered and changed. I hoped we’d meet again later – I recognised his accent too.

      A few minutes into the check-in process, Kirsten walked through the door and I was happy to see her. Perhaps I was slow to admit that this was the part of the day when I needed her more. With the resentment and friction of the day forgotten, we agreed to go to the bar for a drink once the chores had been completed. While I waited for Kirsten in the dormitory, the man I had spoken to earlier came in and introduced himself. Richard lived in my home county of Wexford, so we had something in common from the off. He asked if he could join us for a drink and as we walked up the little hill to the village, I found myself clicking with him straight away. It was a friendship born in immediate playfulness. Truthfully, I felt excited in his company and I hadn’t felt excited for some time. We had dinner in the local bar, where we were joined later by Branu who had walked back from O Cebreiro, having failed to secure accommodation. During dinner it emerged that Richard worked as a doctor. I wasn’t surprised; he had an air of calm, and my sense was that he was used to being in charge. I could really imagine people feeling safe in his hands.

      On the way back to the albergue, I walked ahead with Branu while we played with our shadows under the street light. However, we sobered up quickly when we realised the dorm was in complete darkness on our return. Switching on overhead lighting was not an option – a riot might have broken out. Finding what I needed, then getting onto the top bunk and into my sleeping bag without making too much noise or injuring myself was not easily achieved.

      Although I didn’t admit it to Kirsten or Branu, I liked Richard. I had learned that he had a daughter, but he didn’t wear a wedding ring so his marital status wasn’t clear. But I liked him and I was hoping…….

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged ascent, Café con leche, hospitaleros, La Faba, mountain route, pilgrim, Villafranca del Bierzo
    • Day 26; Ponferrada – Villafranca del Bierzo – 23.5 km

      Posted at 5:09 pm by Mary Murphy, on April 5, 2020

      The albergue staff switched on the overhead lighting at 6 a.m., and with the brightness difficult to ignore, I sprung out of bed quickly. The three strangers I had shared the dorm with were early starters and had already left. Kirsten, on the other hand, was slow to mobilise herself; I had finished breakfast before she appeared, she looked exhausted after her long trek the previous day, even putting on boots seemed to take a lot of her energy.

      Although we began walking together, Branu gradually fell behind and soon we couldn’t see him at all. It became apparent as we walked through the commercial district, which was completely different to the quaint old city, that Ponferrada was a lot bigger than we’d anticipated. With the city signs competing with one another for attention, I lost sight of the Camino and began to follow another pilgrim, assuming she could see what I could not. Mistake! It transpired that we were following Elizabeth from Dublin, and I don’t know who she was following. She worked as a teaching assistant in Madrid and had good Spanish, which came in handy, as we were lost. If I had been on my own I would have retraced my steps, but I felt safe in numbers and had faith that we would find our way back. However, Kirsten was less trusting – of me, of herself, or anyone else; mostly, perhaps, she was worried about being parted from Branu.

      About two hours later we were reunited with the Camino and shortly afterwards, Kirsten and I stopped at a café. Darren was there ahead of us and I was pleased to see him, as I needed some light relief. Walking with Kirsten for the previous couple of hours had been draining, so I was glad of Darren’s company. The three of us left together after coffee, and as the morning progressed into afternoon, Darren and I laughed our way through story after story. We were as carefree as school kids on a day off. I really don’t recall what we were laughing at, but it all seemed funny at the time. After a while, Kirsten dropped back and later I saw her in a bar having a beer with Heather and Eugene.

      In Villafranca, the albergue of popular choice was referred to as the ‘hippy place’. Run by a family who had been tending to pilgrims for years, it felt more like a community than usual, and it was clear that the family enjoyed the role they played. The upstairs dorms were accessed by external staircases while balconies overlooked the courtyard below, and as I observed the flow of movement from my vantage point in the queue, I had the feeling of being on holiday.

      When Darren and I got to the top of the registration line, we were allocated a double bunk bed – not ideal, but I knew I would be okay. I felt really happy. I knew so many people; Kirsten had arrived with Heather and Eugene, and I was especially pleased to see Branu a little later. Even before he showered, he ordered a bottle of wine and the three of us pooled our food resources for a lovely impromptu picnic. Those were some of the best moments. I felt so fond of Branu. Sometimes we had deep philosophical conversations and at other times we would just look at one another and laugh. I felt no pressure from him or with him. I could come and go as I pleased and we would be happy to meet whenever we did. He was also the bridge that connected me to Kirsten; we seemed to need his laid-back let’s-have-some-fun attitude as an antidote to the intensity between us. His appearance often put things into perspective for me, and I would suddenly find my playfulness again.

      Then after a lovely day I found myself drifting away and disconnecting in the evening. I didn’t seem to know what to do with myself and I felt at a loss. At the communal dinner, I struggled to participate in conversation; it took so much energy for me to talk at all. I could see Darren further down the table; he seemed to be getting along well with the girl on his right and I wondered if I had lost my companion.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged albergue, Camino, pilgrim, Ponferrada, Villafranca del Bierzo
    • Mary Margaret Murphy

    • Recent Posts

      • Taking the plunge! 30/01/2021
      • Guided by Intention 30/01/2021
      • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye 13/04/2020
      • Day 33; Ribadiso – Lavacolla – 32 km 12/04/2020
      • Day 32; Palas de Rei – Ribadiso – 25.8 km 11/04/2020
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