The English Way, or the Camino Ingles, dates back to 1147 when a squadron of English, German, and Flemish Crusaders landed on the shores of northern Galicia, visiting the tomb of Saint James before traveling to Lisbon to help the new King of Portugal in his fight against Islam. Later, pilgrims from Scandinavia, England, Scotland, and Ireland came by boat to the ports north of Santiago to walk to see the saint’s remains.
Today, the official routes begin in the port cities of A Coruna (74.8 kms) and Ferrol (118.4 kms), with most pilgrims starting in Ferrol because of the need to walk at least 100 kms in order to earn the compostela (pilgrim’s certificate).
The English Way was supported by a network of hospitals of the Cluny and Cistercian order. The current albergue in Bruma, where the A Coruna and Ferrol routes merge, is located in one of these medieval pilgrim hospitals.
The English Way was well used until the 16th century, when the flood of pilgrims diminished significantly as the religious climate changed, with the Catholic Church losing power as Luther’s ideas gained favour. In addition, borders began to close because of war, and criminals regularly attacked pilgrims on the route.
The English Way was revitalized in the latter half of the 1900s as many of the Santiago pilgrimages in France and Spain took on new life.
I was thinking about the history of the English Way as I walked in the rain for the fifth straight day, sliding on muddy paths, watching the water squirt up through my sandals from my sodden socks. Seeing oneself as walking in the footsteps of history helps with motivation in inclement weather.
I admit, I was pretty excited when I arrived in the tiny village of Bruma to see the medieval pilgrim hospital. I was surprised at how small it is compared to the modern extension that has been built to accommodate modern pilgrims. Still, you could probably have housed a dozen pilgrims in the original structure, although it would have been quite cozy. I touched the old stone of the pilgrim hospital as a token of the kindred spirit I share with those pilgrims long ago.
I stopped at the Bar Novo in A Rua. It was my only break today. I wasn’t in a particularly good mood when I arrived because of the weather, but a cheery buen Camino from a small group of Spanish pilgrims cheered me up. I shook the water off my jacket and ordered my usual cafe con leche, bicadillo francesa, and a chocolate pastry. While I was eating, more small groups of Spanish pilgrims arrived in the rain, all smiles, laughing, and joking among themselves. Their joy was infectious and I found I was truly happy to be there. I was on the Camino in Spain, after all!
When I arrived at the Albergue Camino Real in Sigueiro, the proprietor asked me where I had started today.
“Presedo,” I said.
“Presedo?! My God man, that’s 40 kilometers away and it’s only two o’clock!”
And then after he recorded the information from my passport to check me in, he looked at my birth date and said, “And you’re 55 years old! Wow!”
Haha, that fellow is good for my confidence.
The one positive aspect of walking the Camino is that no matter how bad the weather is, there is always a warm bed at an albergue at the end of the day. At my albergue, the proprietor washed, dried, and folded my laundry for five Euros, so I’ll be able to start the day tomorrow comfortable and dry.
Only 16.5 kilometers remaining to walk to Santiago if you trust the official Galician stone markers along the route, or 20.8 kilometers if you trust the English guidebook. Either way, tomorrow will be my shortest day yet.