Mid-Camino Crisis – 20 April 2022

Mads is frustrated, perhaps even angry. I have to agree with him. He walks past signposts and waves his arms in resignation. I look at him and nod earnestly, “yes Mads, yes.”

The thing is, we’re suffering a mid-Camino crisis. It’s not that we’re depressed that our adventure is half over. It’s not that our bodies and minds are tired and we’re only half way there.

No. It’s because we can’t find halfway. According to guidebooks, websites and peregrino, the way from St Jean Pied de Port to Santiago de Compostela is 800km. That would mean that the halfway point is at 400km, simple. But it’s not that easy.

Some say that the Camino Frances ends at the sea at Finisterre. That is about 100km beyond Santiago. That would mean the halfway point is at 450km or 350km to Santiago.

Every so often we’ll pass a sign like this one just outside Sahagun.

Then about 3km further on we pass the “official” halfway point on the outskirts of Sahagun.

It can’t be 760km to either Santiago or Finisterre. None of this makes any sense! Any wonder Mads is losing his mind.

I should also mention that quite often we will pass a signpost that says 522km. Then we’ll walk 2km and pass a sign that says 535km. Arghhhh!!!!!!

Hence our mid-Camino crisis.

It was clear and cold when we rose in Calzadilla de la Cueza. After our wonderful dinner last night at Los Conarios, we decided we’d go there for breakfast.

We had strong espresso coffees and a lovely breakfast of freshly cooked eggs, followed by freshly squeezed orange juice. It was delicious. The couple that run Los Conarios are warm and welcoming. They also run a great little shop and I’m sure their Albergue would be equally lovely.

After yesterday’s rain and grey skies, it was nice to walk under blue skies.

We made good time, stopping at Ledigos for a cafe con leche. We ran into Thierry. His ankle is very bad. He had called his Doctor back in France who had told him to stop for at least a day, otherwise he risked his whole Camino. I could tell he was upset. We wished him all the best.

James and Leo had told us about an Italian bar in Moratinos. It was getting cold as we approached, so we went in and ordered some drinks and burgers.

When we exited, we thought that maybe we had been slipped something and that all our talk of the Lord of the Rings had transported us to Hobbiton.

Alas, these were caves that the locals had built long ago to make and store wine.

From Moratinos, the clouds closed in and the wild wind howled about us. I heard Mads swear (in Danish) as we passed another distance post. Mikael contemplated long pants. Yes, it was that cold.

We were tossed around like corks on an angry green ocean.

Mads swore at another sign. Mikael summoned his experience in the army and force marched us through the storm and into Sahagun. James and I were like riders in a peloton, just following blindly behind the Danish Guard.

On the way in, the boys start spotting tractors as a game. Yep, nothing more needs to be said about this.

We pass the local bull ring. I noted that I have only seen one small herd of cattle the whole time we have been in Spain.

Ignoring our rule not to stop at the first bar/restaurant/albergue we walk past, we checked into the municipal Albergue in the Iglesia de la Trinidad. The old building has had serious modifications to convert it into the local tourist office and the albergue.

If we look at the Camino as a metaphor for life, then we are in our mid-life. So perhaps a mid-Camino crisis seems apt.

I’m sure it will pass. A lot of research points to people getting happier in mid-life and beyond. Certainly the first stage of the Camino is difficult. You are fraught with doubts about whether your mind and body are up to this task of walking the full Camino, up to living a full and meaningful life. You are not sure who amongst the many that walk on the way you can trust or like. Who is your family? Who are your friends that you will care for and receive care in return? You see people struggling. But to take up their load may not only be unfair to them, but to take on too great a load yourself.

In early life, like early Camino, you may make rash and immature decisions – I think a blister is coming, but I only have 3km more to walk. I should be fine. You are never fine when you put off dealing with issues and problems. The blister arrives as you arrive at your destination. If you had stopped and treated your foot earlier, had you been patient, this would not have occurred. But as the inexperienced on the way, we grasp at what we want, instead of what we need.

The Western Bulldogs had a saying they would repeat to each other in the year they won the flag – run towards the fire. It seems simple, but in practice it is much harder. It means, don’t let any problem fester, deal with it now. Don’t run from the fire, run to it and put it out before it grows too large and out of control to resolve simply. This is hard in early life as you lack the confidence and belief in yourself.

Mid-life and mid-Camino is bringing happiness and peace.

The albergue has a kitchen that is open, something a little rare at the moment. I offer to cook a meal for our Fellowship.

I find a supermarket and buy the ingredients for spaghetti carbonara followed by yoghurt and fresh strawberries for dessert.

It is great to be cooking again. It’s even greater to have a home cooked meal and see that everyone is enjoying it.

Well, everyone but the French who turn their nose up at it but then cook pasta and pour a jar sauce over the top. We enjoy our meal so much we don’t even notice them.

So tomorrow we begin the next phase of our journey. Are we halfway? Past halfway? Still not at halfway yet? I honestly don’t think we care. Well, maybe Mads does. I’m sure he’ll go home and measure it all on google earth and figure out where the “true” halfway point is. Until then, we will enjoy him cursing at the way markers. And we will enjoy our mid-Camino. Crisis averted.