The landscape has really taken on a Medieval feel, as hill and ridges roll away like solid waves of stone. Each hilltop has its fortress village and I passed through several city gates, across drawbridges, and over arched bridges. Bells of ancient churches rang the hours.
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| Storks raise young atop the Templar church of La Iglesias del Crucifijo. |
I took my first break in the shade of the arched gateway to Puenta la Reina. A kind Brother invited me inside the cloister of the seminary and stamped my credential. He showed me across to the door of the church and led me inside. Here hung a Y-shaped crucifix carried here by German pilgrims. The symbol of the Holy Order of the Knights of Malta was everywhere. The warrior monks, he explained, who, with the Templars, protected the pilgrims on their way to Santiago.
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The crucifix carried from Germany in the 14th century.
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| The Malta Cross is everywhere. Pilgrims are safe here. |
The streets are so narrow that pilgrims must duck into doorways to avoid being pinned by passing delivery trucks. I was greeted by more people, given "Buen Camino!" by Christian and Muslim alike. I was craving meat. I needed fat and protein, and ducked into a butcher shop for some delicious fresh sausage that I ate all the way to Lorca.
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| Leaving town by the 11th century Pilgrims Bridge |
In fort towns of Maneru and Cirauqui, evidence of both Christian and Muslim influence were obvious. Blue-tiled doorways laced with the intricate carving of Moorish woodworkers from the 800s were set side-by-side with heavy wooden doors of Christian homes, hung with black crosses and symbols. Large coats of arms hung on the homes of rich merchant families of the 12th century. Everywhere the influence of Basque traders and horsemen. I was immersed and awestruck.
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| A fortified city gate. |
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| Templars and Knights of Malta stood watch over pilgrims here. |
Between the ancient towns were the ever present symbols of the Camino. Sculptures of St. James the Pilgrim stood watch at major intersections and the scallop shell was embedded in the sidewalks, streets, and waymarkers. You simply cannot get lost.
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| St. James the Pilgrim. |
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| Scallop shell marks the path through a suburban area. |
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| 11th century sidewalk marks the entrance to a safe haven. |
The path for the Medieval pilgrim, however, was not so easy. There were thieves in every dark woods, and corrupt bridge keepers. Women riding or walking alone, like me, would dress as men and arm themselves as soldiers to intimidate the untrustworthy. There are many, many tales of families robbed, persecuted, and children kidnapped to sell into slavery. The role of the Holy Orders, the warrior monks, was an important one as guardians and hospitalliers.
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| Imagine the courage it took to pass through remote country like this. |
There were stretches of path that were very remote and I tried to imagine a family of pilgrims bravely making their way though the forest or over rough country. On this modern pilgrimage, we happily celebrate our Camino family made up of hikers from all over the world as we meet along the trail and gather at night, safe in our albergue. In the Middle Ages the concept of pilgrim family was a mater if survival and every bit as diverse as it is today.
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| My albergue for the night in Lorca. |
I am falling into the rhythm of the way. Rise early, start at sunrise, walk for 10 to 12 miles, find an albergue by mid afternoon. Shower, eat a small lunch of cheese and bread and sausage. Nap or read or write. Reawaken refreshed as the town comes alive for the evening. I meet new Camino family, learn their stories, and share a late communal meal. I also reunite with Camino family from the previous week and we share our adventures. Tonight's albergue at Lorca was particularly pleasant, tucked into a narrow street of cobble stone and alive with chatter, singing pilgrims, and our host's own affection for German and Italian opera.
