A Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela

The great Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela is packed with worshippers for Sunday
Mass - locals, tourists and pilgrims. People kneel on the hard stone floor, as there is a shortage of pews. When communion is offered, there is almost a stampede.
Before the high altar, glittering and gloriously ornate in the manner of Spanish cathedrals, the benediction is given in Spanish, English, French and German. Then eight well-built men in dark-red gowns heave in a huge censor and swing it, burning, high over the heads of the congregation.
After weeks in the open air, walking through remote countryside to reach this ancient shrine of St James the Apostle, it can be rather overpowering.
St James’s body was supposedly brought by boat to Galicia after his martyrdom in the Holy Land, and his neglected tomb was rediscovered there 900 years later. From then on devout pilgrims in their thousands, including St Francis, journeyed to the tomb to do penance and to seek spiritual comfort.
Now as then, pilgrimage can be a cleansing process. Walking through open countryside to a place dedicated to higher things, and meeting and talking to thinking people, focuses one’s mind on spiritual values.
In earlier times, all you needed was a staff [to help you to walk], a hat, an open scrip or wallet to give and receive alms, and, to show your destination was Santiago, a scallop shell, the symbol of the saint. These days you need to add to your rucksack toiletries, a small first aid kit, a few clothes, a light sleeping bag, a passport and some money.
In the Middle Ages travelling by land was dangerous; and safe pilgrim routes were established leading from different directions. The most popular was the French route which runs from the Pyrenees across northern Spain. The Benedictines of Cluny built welcoming refuges along the road, and issued the first pilgrim guidebook, Codex Callixtinus. It is still relevant and available in translation.
Rather than walking the hazardous roads across France to Spain, English pilgrims often chose to sail to Corunna [fortified with malmsey to prevent sea-sickness] and I followed this route by taking the ferry to Bilbao, a little further east. I then joined the French route at Pamplona in Navarra, and made my way, alone, to Santiago using some trains and buses, as well as walking.
I stayed mostly at small cheap pensiones where you share a lavatory and eat out. In the refuges, which are spaced out sensibly along the route, you share a unisex bathroom and dormitories with bunk beds, and usually prepare your own food.
Some pilgrims camp out; others spend nights in paradors which are hotels converted from historic buildings. The important thing is that all make their own way to Santiago for their own good reasons.
The French route is marked spasmodically with yellow arrows. It avoids main roads and cities as much as possible, and often takes rough tracks.
In northern Spain the light is bright but soft and the air pure because of the influence of the sea and mountains. The route takes you by pine and oak forests, streams and rivers and rocky land, with meadows and farmland growing maize and barley. Vine-covered slopes and small homesteads with geraniums and washing hanging out make up much of the scenery.
All the way along there are reminders - some in ruins - of medieval buildings that once helped pilgrims. An 11th century Spanish Queen had a beautiful bridge built, the Puenta de la Reina, and pilgrims still use it.
St Dominic of the Causeway, having been turned down by the Monastery of Santiago, devoted his life instead to building roads and refuges for pilgrims. His cathedral always has two chickens in a glass-fronted run, because of a legend about him, which concerns a boy hanged unjustly for rape. His parents, having prayed to the saint for help, begged the judge to release the boy, but the judge joked that the boy was already as dead as the chickens on his plate, whereupon the chickens sprang up and cackled.
The cities along the route to Santiago all have their interest. Burgos was the birthplace of El Cid; Pamplona has its famous Bull Week in July; Logrono is the centre of the La Rioja wine industry, which is at least as old as the pilgrimage; in Leon the 11th century cathedral has a beautiful rose window; in Astorga the Bishop’s Palace is built by Gaudy in his inimitable style.
I met many Spaniards doing the pilgrimage in their own way, in dribs and drabs. Many of them cycled in tight black suits, which slightly destroyed the traditional feel. I drank coffee in an outdoor cafe with three sisters on a week’s holiday and high on romantic religious fervour. A jolly Dutch lady with whom I shared chocolate and churros for breakfast, was on her third pilgrimage, and this time had taken nearly a year over it.
A Buddhist who was a teacher in Scotland spent a lot of time sitting in the sun meditating. He was planning to go on to Finisterre, where traditionally people take off their clothes and wash away past sins in the sea.
You catch your first sight of the Cathedral spires from Monte de Gozo [Mount of Joy], a peaceful hill just outside the city. From there it is still quite a walk and many people take the bus. New halls of residence of the university built up here include pilgrim accommodation. Close to, the cathedral is awesome. It is a baroque granite building set in stark granite plazas, where the only colour and warmth is provided by the Cathedral guides in their gorgeous velvet apparel.
Going through the Door of Glory, as so many pilgrims have done before you, is an emotional moment. You touch the Tree of Jesse just inside, and then embrace and say a prayer at the silver statue of St James behind the high altar. At 12 noon there is a daily Mass for the pilgrims.
Round the corner is an austere reception office. Here you report your arrival, and if you have walked more than 100 miles, or cycled or ridden on horseback for more than 200, you can receive a compostela [certificate].
In the Middle Ages people who were too old or sick or busy to make the journey themselves paid someone else to do it ansd received the compostela. Nowadays such people can come by coach or plane - the effort on their part is as great as that made by healthy young people walking for miles and sleeping rough.
Santiago is a medieval stone city, which is packed with churches, and the university colleges echo to the sound of their bells.
The shops sell souvenirs, including staffs, scallop shells and replicas of the saint’s statue, an amazing amount of jewellery, plastic macs, and a delicious almond cake decorated with a cross and called ‘tarta de Santiago’.
Most of the old shrines have lost their appeal and their pilgrims, but Santiago de Compostela is an exception. The reason may be partly geographical - northern Spain is still largely unspoiled and has a pleasant climate. It might also be because the Spanish love walking - they stroll for hours in the evenings and at weekends, and in Holy Week they spend about six hours in processions.
But perhaps it is also because the cult of St James took root in an ancient and holy Celtic region, and still has a healing power that is timeless.
First published in Church Times on 24 July 1998. Included in the anthology To be a Pilgrim [published Kevin Mayhew] in 2002