You will walk with me.: El Acebo de San Miguel

10:15pm

La Casa del Peregrino

I don’t even know where to start for today’s post. The word that keeps coming to mind today is “healing.”

Today was healing.

It started with an absolutely gorgeous descent out of Rabanal. Today is when we really started to see the drastic scenery change between the flat, dry, dusty Meseta (still beautiful, but I was ready for a change) and the rolling hills and lush forests of Galicia. We haven’t officially passed into Galicia yet, the last region of our journey (WHAT??), but the scenery today is a preview of what’s to come, I’m told. It was a slow and steady climb for the first 9 kilometers. But Mother Nature was SO good to us today. It was cloudy and misty and overcast for the vast majority, making for much nicer and cooler walking conditions.

On the way, we stopped in Foncebadon, for some coffee and second breakfast (yeah, second breakfast), and ran into our new friend Chong, from Korea. He is so kind, and such lovely company. We have crossed paths a few times in the last few days, and every time is a joy. My dad bought some super glue at the shop attached to the bar to fix his shoe later (it’s starting to peel at the sole). About 10 minutes later, out if the blue, Chong asks, “May I fix your shoe?” It caught us both off guard, but the Camino provides. And my dad handed the shoe and glue over. And what do you know, Chong fixed that shoe happily. This is the every-day magic.

(CHECK OUT THAT PROGRESS!!)

Once the shoe was fixed and our stomachs were happy, we continued onward and upward. Literally. Upward and upward and upward. The paths today were quite a challenge, with large rocks and cracks in the soil. But we made it!

Before too long, we arrived at the long-anticipated Cruz de Ferro; an understated but powerful iron cross, situated at the top of a tall pole, on top of a large pile of rocks. But these aren’t just ordinary rocks. Cruz de Ferro is a deeply spiritual and significant place, for many pilgrims. Traditionally, we bring a rock from the very start of our pilgrimage, to carry with us along the way. At Cruz de Ferro, we leave those rocks behind. It is a symbol of the burdens we carry in our lives, and leaving them at the foot of the cross signifies the release of these struggles and burdens. When my parents made their pilgrimage two years ago, my sister and I painted the rocks they brought and left. This time, my mom and sister provided me with mine.

As we rounded the corner toward the cross, after a whole morning of walking in gray misty fog, the clouds parted and the most brilliant beams of sunlight shone on us and that cross. It couldn’t have been more perfect. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as we approached. This journey has not been an easy one, and especially after my full-fledged meltdown a couple days ago, this just felt like such a release. We did it. We accomplished another phase. It turned out to once again fall in line with the phases people describe: physical ✔️, mental ✔️, and now the start of the spiritual ✔️.

I stood in awe of this cross for a few moments, almost feeling unable to move. I’ve pictured this moment for months. I knew it was coming and I knew what it would look like. But there’s really no preparing. Regardless of what a cross means to you or me or anyone, the idea that we have made it this far and will leave a tangible symbol of our deeply personal burdens is unbelievably powerful. I stepped up on that huge pile of rocks and approached the foot of the cross. Surrounding me the whole way were rocks and other tokens left by thousands of pilgrims before me. Some I could understand, some I couldn’t. All of them carry so much weight. So much more weight than that which you would read on a scale. Every single rock represents the innermost thoughts, prayers, desires, devastations, triumphs, trials, joys, souls of each individual who left it. I could feel the weight. It anchored my every step.

I got to the top and took my own rocks out of my pockets. I had picked up a few on my way today, to leave in honor of loved ones back home. I held them in my hands, reflecting over each one. I got to the ones my mom and sister made for me, and nearly dissolved into audible tears. There’s just something so substantial about carrying these rocks. Provided by two of the most important and influential people in my life. They’ve been with me. They were with me. They are with me. They’re always with me. They held these rocks in their hands at home, and now I hold them in mine on a hilltop in Spain. How beautiful is that?

I found my spot, and placed them at the cross. Where they will stay. And it’s fitting. These two women have helped me through many struggles in life, and here they are again. With me as I consider that which weighs on my soul. So with those rocks, I thought about burdens I have carried in life. Fears, insecurities, comparisons, heartaches. May I leave those behind as well. Maybe not always, they’ll creep back in. But I’ll always remember today in the moments they threaten to return.

I’ll always have this place.

The rest of the walk actually got pretty treacherous, lots of steep downhills with thousands of rocks to dodge. It was very physically and mentally exhausting, but the beauty and joy of the day, the perfect weather, and stunning views made it worth every step. Oh and I did use a delightful pit toilet. There’s that.

And then... we arrived. At the albergue of ALL albergues. I’ve been dreaming of it since before we even left on this trip, after reading some amazing reviews in my pre-trip research (by the way, if you ever need someone to hook you up with some pre-trip research such as accommodating planning/what to visit/where to eat... I’m your girl. I can’t get enough of that treasure hunt). Well, turns out the reviews grossly UNDERsold this majestic paradise. Holy MOLY. I have never seen anything more beautiful than the views provided by this oasis. We have a private room, but beds for individual travelers are only 10€, a delicious 3-course meal including wine and bread is 12€, and the accommodations are immaculate. We met fellow pilgrims from all over the world once again, and concluded our dinner conversations out on the deck after the thunderstorm cleared and left a glorious display of light.

One new friend from Germany explained that this is his second Camino. The first was in 2015, in a time when he described “having many problems” with himself and his life. He said he reached Cruz de Ferro, left his rock, contemplated his life and what was important, and something clicked. He walked for two hours after that, just crying and rejoicing in the “click” he felt and the peace it brought. He is walking again “to say thank you to the Camino for what it did.” His life changed. He changed. And I can understand why.