Camino Family

Over the last couple of days, I’m starting to experience what people in the Camino world refer to as their Camino family.

I mean this in a couple of ways. One, there’s the immediate group of pilgrims that’s begun to coalesce with while I’ve been spending the majority of my social time, from quiet morning snacks before hitting the road, to walking portions of the trail, from second breakfast with coffee and Spanish tortilla, and from post walk beers on the terrace to group dinners. I know the group will ebb and flow as individual plans change but I’m feeling quite content today.

I also refer to the larger group of my pilgrimage cohort. Most of us are walking the same route each day, stopping at the same cafes, sleeping at the same albergues, and having dinner and drinks at the same places, so we’re experiencing repeat encounters throughout the day. 

I’ll share one quick anecdote. 

Around midday, I was walking with Ollie and Sam when we encountered an eccentric Frenchwoman drawing crosses in the pathway with her hiking pole. As we passed, she looked at me and asked if I spoke French. I said “un peu” emphasizing the peu by physically showing my hand close to the ground. This was apparently enough for her. She proceeded to sing to us in French. Unbeknownst to me, Ollie recorded the encounter.

Fast forward to dinner. I’m sitting with Nitay, Emma, Matt, Lauren, and Jason, and I swear I  hear the same song. My mind immediately goes to, “Wait, how did they get a copy of Ollie’s recording?” until I realize how ridiculous that would have been. Clearly the woman must be having dinner in the same albergue. 

I walk over and say hi. We have a broken conversation in French, but she makes the connection that I’m the same person she sang to earlier in the day. I told her it was my favorite memory of the day. It was a joyous moment with smiles all around.

Retuning to my table, I recount the tale to my dinner mates, members of my smaller Camino family, and they ask, “so what are you gonna sing?”

Pressure’s on. Considering my options, I download the karaoke track of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah on my phone and begin singing. The room stops to listen. At the refrain, we become not a pilgrims’ dinner but a congregation. Everyone joins in, singer or not. It was such a poignant moment.

I didn’t think anything could possibly have compared to my Ave Maria moment from a couple days prior, but this impromptu singalong ranks pretty close.

Today was a good day.