Season 5. Episode 13. Jill and the meaning of the Camino.

Season 5. Episode 13. Jill and the meaning of the Camino. 

September 5, 2025. Santo Domingo de la Calzada to Castrojeriz 75 miles. 3,434’ climbing. 

From far away as we approached, it was remarkable how steady this flag-waver was indicating construction. As I got closer, I could see it was a robot, solar powered. Why don’t we have these in the USA?

Although the Camino is like a Tower of Babel where so many different languages are heard, and people cannot speak each others’ language, everybody masters the common greeting of a ”Buen Camino” to wish another peregrino (pilgrim in Spanish as we are called) a good journey.

We pass many fields of sunflowers. I recalled learning that sunflowers change the direction they face, following the sun during the day. A Google search confirmed this and taught me the word heliotropism.

After lots of morning climbing and a midday heat surge, I was a bit dehydrated. I placed my head in my hands to rest at lunch, and Heather tells me I actually fell asleep for a few minutes. Nothing like a good power nap.

It's pretty dry and desert-like except for where they clearly irrigate to have a a green patch of vegetable farming.

Casteojeriz, our destination.

September 6, 2025. Castrojeriz to Mansilla de las Mullas 79. miles. 2,142’ climbing. 

It felt like the wide open western USA with long roads and dried grass. But with better road surfaces here. It was our first day that we went a long stretch with no services and not enough food which surprised us given the Camino has a steady stream of walkers. 

The area is The Meseta. The high plains between Burgos and Leon that many walkers avoid because of the challenge.  While technically not a desert, it is desert-like in spots.

One of many stretches where Camino walkers are right on the road. 

Walkers are often on a trail just next to the road close enough that we can speak with each other. 

We met our first fellow Camino cyclists today, 3 men from France. It was great on two levels. In addition to enjoying riding with others, I could actually speak with them. Since entering Spain, it’s been a very different experience not speaking the language. I’ve been a bit frustrated not being able to connect as readily with others.

The tablecloth map reminded me that I forget that Spain, no different in some ways than the USA, is made up of states with very distinct cultures. And here even sometimes different languages. Cultural and historical regional differences run even deeper and for much longer than in the USA. 

September 7, 2025. Mansilla de las Mullas to Santa Catalina de Somoza. 62 miles. 1,625’ climbing. 

As we made our way to the historic city of Leon, we were back in greener scenery and out of the Meseta.

Plaza Mayor is vibrant and alive and the center of Leon. But not at 10am on Sunday morning! 

Our first glimpse of the Leon Cathedral. 

We rode the perimeter of the old city walls.

The cathedral is a master of gothic, ribbed vault architecture that I learned was a technological breakthrough. It allowed reducing wall space needed as support, so there could be more windows that led to larger and more beautiful stained glass. 

For the past two days of our Camino ride, we thought we would not want to walk this. It didn’t seem like a beautiful enough walk to dedicate 5 weeks of our lives. And indeed, there are long stretches on pavement or concrete. 

However, that was before we met Jill this evening and enjoyed a lengthy conversation at our charming, intimate rural hotel. 

Jill is 74 years old, an Australian mother of 2, grandma of 6. She’s on her 18th Camino!  

Her first walk was at age 50 when she was near tears and ready to quit. She spoke with her brother who cautioned her that if she quits now she will regret it the rest of her life. Her current walk is her 6th time on the French Way. She’s walked the via de la Plata from Seville, the Camino Del Norte from San Sebastián along the north coast, and the Portuguese Way from Porto multiple times. She had breakfast with Martin Sheen when he was filming The Way. 

I asked what advice she would give her 50 or 60 year old self? Her reply: Stay flexible. Say yes to everything. Take a risk. Seize the moment. 

Jill agreed with our assessment that one doesn’t walk the Camino because it’s beautiful. You walk the Camino because it’s a beautiful experience. It’s the people you meet and the inner journey. 

Just as we get much more of an intimate experience on a bike that we would miss as a motorist speeding by, compared to the walkers we are the equivalent of the motorists. They get to experience an even more intimate experience than us cyclists. Everything slows down even more for them. The aroma of the bakery beckons for longer, and a bad odor from a factory or a barn lingers longer. 

Walkers enjoy a near endless stream of chance encounters with other walkers. The exchanges and conversations nurtured over several hours of walking together, or in some cases several days of new friendship, are life changing. 

September 8, 2025. Santa Catalina de Somoza to Villafranca Del Bierzo. 43 miles. 3,193’ climbing. 

Inspired by our lucky chance encounter with Jill, I decided to slow my journey down. As I rode up to walkers, I unclipped my feet from my pedals, dismounted and walked next to them to engage in conversation as it seemed English is the most common language one speaks on the Camino. This was great as my lack of Spanish language skills continues to impede me having meaningful engagements with locals. 

I was chatting with a girl from France and a guy from Germany who became a couple years ago meeting in Vancouver. They’ve been a couple for seven years and we talked about relationships. I commented that my wife is miles ahead of me, and independence is important. 

At that point, Heather appeared cycling towards me, coming back asking if I had a flat as she saw me walking my bike. I told her all was fine and great. I was just chatting with walkers. She showed me her frustration that she was wondering where I was. I hadn’t communicated my plan to walk and engage with hikers because I had no plan. It was spontaneous. 

She told me about these incredible 3 girls singing in harmony up ahead. I bid farewell to the young couple and started biking with Heather. We came to the 3 girls who were not then singing, but Heather told me it was them. 

I got off my bike to walk alongside and told them “I heard there was a concert, did I miss it?” They laughed and we spoke. And then they sang for me while walking.

These three girls I learned were from Freiburg, Germany, and had the most beautiful voices. They sang for about 3 minutes while we all walked ahead. I asked what the song was about and learned it was a beautiful love song about religion. It would make anybody religious and was just inspiring for the day.

I couldn’t resist telling them the only German song I know is “99 Luftballons” (99 red balloons) from the 1980’s and to my pleasure one of them knew the song by Nena. We had a laugh and I bid them farewell with the friendly “tschüss”.

My next encounter was with a woman jogging. I assumed she was a local woman out for a run, but as a joke I asked “are you jogging the whole Camino?”  She said yes!! She’s running for three reasons: as a personal challenge, to set a record, and to raise money for charity. Inspiring! 

Very typical approach into the small villages with a church at their center. 

Our time riding in India this winter prepared us well for cycling among cows.

Heather had gone up ahead and I was cycling at a slower pace, having these conversations. 

I had a fantastic ride! The first segment was a 2 hour climb of 2,000’ (from 3,000’ to 5,000’ above sea level).

Near the top of the climb is the Iron Cross that has become a site where people lay photos of loved ones for whom they are walking or stones with such inscriptions.

One of the tributes.

I met a bike guide Florentine who was leading a group of Taiwanese riders. I asked him about the different Caminos as I heard there is the symbol of the Camino (the seashell) in Germany and Switzerland. He educated me that there are as many Caminos as there are people because the true Camino path is to walk from the front door of where you live. He also confirmed that nowadays it’s not so much religious reasons for pilgrimage, but it’s spiritual nonetheless. I agree with him.

On the steep climb, hikers had a separate trail that diverges from the road.

Summit views.

Our hours of riding up the climb led to an incredible 10 mile descent. I rode with more caution than normal since Jill told us two cyclists died going downhill.

Something lost in translation (strong pendants?) but I got the memo - be careful going down!

The descent ended in Molinaseca where Heather and I met up for lunch after crossing the Pilgrims Bridge.

Lunch spot in Molinaseca.

We continue to marvel at how tasteful their tomatoes are here.

As we rode through Ponferrada, we chanced upon the festivities of their patron saint, Virgin of the Oak.

Our last miles of the day were through vineyards. We could see grapes being harvested by hand and unloaded into a truck. Like when I cycled through an agricultural belt in California and could see the faces of the people picking the produce, I got to thinking much about what I eat and how it makes its way to my plate.

This brought us to a lovely vineyard for our final planned rest day.

We thought it was an olive orchard and grape vineyard. While those are the two crops it uses commercially to make olive oil and wine, it felt like a mini Eden as the owner and our host Roland led us on a tour and we ate from pear and cherry trees. There were grapes on vines planted in 1930. There were sweet and sour plums, walnuts, almonds, pomegranates, and figs. Oh those figs were so juicy freshly picked. 

Roland taught us it  takes 7 kg of olives to yield a liter of olive oil and  3 trees yield 80 kg of olives. 

Roland leading us tasting through his Eden.

Roland was a Swiss hotelier and just a few years older than me. He bought this land 30 years ago with a vision of nurturing it into a retirement site for him and his wife who was born nearby. 

We saw photos of the land from then and now and the home built. It’s amazing how he had that vision for so long and kept at it. Roland and I spoke about how at this age, we are done lifting the heavy rocks, but we still have many items on our respective mental checklists to accomplish. 

On the Camino it’s customary to have hotels and restaurants stamp a “Camino passport” that you purchase to have for memories and evidence of your walk. Roland told us the story of a guest woman who came alone but asked him to stamp two passports. When he asked why two, she replied: one for her and one for her deceased son who she carried in her pack. Such is the meaning of the Camino. 

© Copyright Mark Segal 2025.