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After cycling 660 miles along a path used by Roman soldiers, Reiss will reach his destination.
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Travelers wait at the pilgrim’s office for their official certificates of completion.
I had just completed my 660-mile pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago, cycling from the French Alps to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. Tradition has it that the remains of the apostle Saint James are buried on the site of this cathedral in Galacia, in northwestern Spain.
Outside the cathedral, the Plaza de Obradoiro was crowded with pilgrims (peregrinos) who, like me, just completed traveling the Camino. What I most remember was the sound of walking sticks hitting the thousand-year-old cobblestones upon which I was standing. I remember thinking, so many people here yet so quiet, except for the sound of the sticks and the relief-filled sobbing of fellow travelers.
We were all strangers in that plaza, yet I felt such a strong sense of connection with everyone. I found an old stone bench and watched and listened to my fellow peregrinos.
My journey began three weeks earlier in Roncesvalles, at the foot of the Pyrenees in eastern Spain. Each of us had made a decision to travel on the Route de Francis, along the northern coast of Spain, the same path used by Roman soldiers 1,100 years earlier. The path is generously signed with painted yellow arrows and a scallop, the symbol of the Camino, pointing you to the cathedral at Santiago. Maps are not needed. Santiago was our shared destination but we each had different reasons for making this journey.
At the start I was looking for my next recreational and cultural experience. Discovering new parts of the world by bicycle is something I’ve done for 20 years and I felt riding in Spain would be a perfect fit.
My travels on the Camino took me through the rolling hills of Spain’s wine country, across miles of the flat, arid meseta (the plateau) and finally up and over the Monte do Gozo (Hill of Joy) just outside the village of Santiago.
Along the way I stopped at the Cruz de Ferro (the Iron Cross) where millions of pilgrims before me had placed a small stone brought from home, each representing a personal burden they no longer wished to carry in life. I placed my stone and continued on.
When I needed to rest I sat in rough, wooden pews of 9th century churches and listened to the melodic voice of a local priest encouraging us to complete our challenging journey.
After three weeks of dry, wet, windy and beautiful cycling, I entered the city of Santiago de Compostela. I rode along a small street towards the spires of the 10th century church and turned my bicycle into the plaza.
Later that day, at the pilgrim’s office next to the church, I went to get my compostela, the official certificate of completion, which is personalized and confirms that you had traveled the entire Camino. However, before I received it I was asked for the purpose of my pilgrimage. I said that I began my trip looking for new adventures in a new country but now that my journey was complete I was no longer sure. My greeter smiled and told me that that often happens to pilgrims arriving into Santiago. I watched him write my name on the certificate and later learned that the translation of the Latin words he wrote stated that I completed my journey for spiritual reasons.
I took my certificate with me next door into the magnificent cathedral. A large statue of St. James greeted me as I entered. On the statue’s pedestal were a series of deeply worn grooves. Tradition suggests that each pilgrim, upon completing their journey, place their hand in these grooves. I touched the pedestal and, as millions before me, felt the grooves enclose my fingers.
The service began and the Spanish priest welcomed all of the pilgrims. A botafumerio, a large metal censer suspended from chains and filled with incense, was lit and raised high above the crowded congregation. It swung for countless minutes cleansing the air and then was gently lowered down to the altar.
The priest then asked that we each remember three things. First, that the path of the Camino follows the stars of the Milky Way constellation, so if we were ever lost, we had only to look up at the stars and follow them to the next village. He then told us that if we were ever frightened by an approaching storm on the Camino to listen for the ringing of the church bells because they would lead us to shelter. Finally, he reminded us that we each had followed the yellow arrows and scallop signs to bring us to this church. But when we left today there would not be any more arrows to follow and that we must now place our own signs and follow them along our next journey. He wished us Buen Camino.
I walked out of the cathedral and began placing my own arrows.