Hiking the Camino de Santiago – Madrid Style
Uncategorized — By admin on June 16, 2008 12:00 amby Jolijn van der Zanden
There is a Camino to
And you are going to do part of it? On your own? As a girl? Are you mad? Yes,
yes, yes, yes and no. Report on 5 days and 121 kilometers of suffering, rain,
great views and very friendly people.
Day 1: Madrid – Tres
Cantos
After a month of preparation (all the extra walking I
could do, from my office to my house for example) I picked up my backpack on
the last Saturday of March and closed the door of my house.
My plan was to walk as much as possible of
the Camino de Santiago, the famous pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. The Camino
de Santiago is a centuries-old tradition – Catholic pilgrims have been visiting
the shrine of St. James in
since the 8th century and before that the route carried a special
significance with ancient pagans. After its heyday in the Middle Ages, interest
in the Camino steadily decreased until recently – when a new generation of
pilgrims, spiritual, religious and sporting alike, rediscovered the Camino. Although
technically any road to Santiago de Compostela is a “camino”, most modern
pilgrims travel the popular Camino
Francés from the French border across the north of
I
decided to take a more authentic approach. Just like the medieval pilgrims, I
would make the pilgrimage from my front door, here in Madrid. What better way to get to know the surroundings of my favourite city? Although
largely forgotten in recent years, there actually is a Camino from Madrid, via
Segovia and Valladolid to Sahagun, where it connects with the Camino
Francés for the last 350 kilometers into Santiago.
but was just as other routes mostly forgotten in more modern times. Volunteers
of the Asociación de Amigos de los Caminos de Santiago de
particular route. They have published a guide of this Camino and every spring,
they paint yellow arrows on streets, poles, rocks and trees indicating the
fastest way to
Since I had only one week available for walking, which
meant I would not make it all the way to Santiago de Compostela, Instead, I decided
it was my goal to walk as far as possible..
I did not bother asking anybody else to join me. Walking
alone might add an interesting extra dimension to my week – a chance to get to
know myself in more daring circumstances.Plus, I didn’t think my friends would
feel like joining me on this trip, knowing it was not going to be easy. I would
surely meet some other people on their personal caminos. In any case, my
week would be a nice alternative to the standard 10-day-all-meals-included-stay-in-a-resort-on-a-beach-with-countless-others
vacation. With my guide, comfy shoes and oversized raincoat, I was ready to go.
To spare myself an hour of walking through downtown
stretch I already did the week before as part of my training) I took the metro to
Plaza Castilla and started north from there, past the impressive new
skyscrapers – they should measure 250 metres once finished – turning left just
before Hospital La Paz. Over the highway to Colmenar Viejo, a turn to the left
and suddenly, on a zebra crossing close to Hospital Ramón y Cajal, I saw the
first yellow arrows pointing in the right direction. They were to become my
best friends in the days after that. Once I spotted the first one, there was no
escaping: at some crossings as many as 5 arrows were pointing in the right
direction. Impossible to get lost. After two hours or so of suburban trekking
and being hit by the first rain, the sidewalk and the barrio came to an
end and I stepped onto a genuine dirt road. My Camino had begun.
As the dirt road turned up a hill, I turned around to
take my first look back at the skyline of
decided to start this journey in the first place. Even if everything were to go
horribly wrong, it would have been worthwhile just to stand on this hill. On
the top of the hill, bathed in sunlight, surrounded by clouds, I watched rain
falling on an unusually quiet
On the hill, only the distant barking of dogs could be heard. It was beautiful.
My quest continued through sloppy woods. I had not
seen a living soul since leaving
Was I the only one? Where were the other
2000-odd ‘pilgrims’ a year promised by the Asociación? A turn to the right and
then I found the first sign with more information on the Camino. If they even
bother to place a sign, surely there would be more people walking around?
The first deviation from the original plan regarded speed:
During training I walked 5 kilometers per hour, but with all the looking around
and taking pictures and the hills, 4 kilometers per hour was the best I could
do. And that meant a change in strategy. Instead of making it to
but obviously overambitious goal – at the end of the week, I decided to look at
things day by day. And that meant that I would have to spend my first night in
Tres Cantos, not in Colmenar Viejo.
I found a hostal where the rooms were even equipped with
computers and an internet connection: so much for ascesis asceticism during a
pilgimage. Time to check out Tres Cantos, which turned out to be a weird place.
It was built in the seventies and was meant to become the technological heart
of
full of relatively new apartment blocks and many, many offices. Neigbourhoods are
nicely called ‘sectors’ and they all have very productive names: Sector
Embarcaciones or Sector Oficios, despite being residential areas. The most
playful name would be Sector Pintores. Nice idea from Franco, I guess. It’s all
very clean, sterile even. What a difference from the bustling city centre of
streets of other surrounding towns..
Day 2: Tres Cantos –
Colmenar Viejo – Manzanares El Real
I woke up with slightly protesting legs and thought
that was not too bad for a first day. Soon I was back in the hills, looking
forward to a nice day of walking while enjoying a wonderful view of Colmenar
Viejo. And ooh, look at that, what a nice and peaceful and nature-y looking
mountain stream. But after my 11th crossing, perilously teetering
over slippery, unstable stepping stones or wading through ice-cold snow runoff it
somehow seemed less adorable. Between do-it-yourself river crossings, I savored
the day as I followed a winding path through the countryside, surrounded by
horses, cows, frogs, blossoming trees butterflies and, of course, more water.
Life was good. Until the next ‘crossing’.
After that, the path improved and winded up through
pastures with countless sheep. After a day and a half of walking I could still
see
It was quite a distance but the new towers can be seen from even 30 kilometers.
It was quiet, sunny and very, very beautiful, with storks and birds of prey in
the sky. Here was some classic Spanish beauty.
In Colmenar Viejo, a picturesque village, I rewarded myself
for the pat three hours with a big ración of lacón. The next
village, Manzanares, was still 15 kilometers away, but I decided to go for it
anyway. Everything was going so nicely, I liked being on my way, the weather
was great and I thought I could go on forever.
What followed was the best part of my camino, a beautiful
stretch through very green hills flanked by stone walls, with the best views
and lots of sheep and toros bravos – safely behind fences – peacefully
eating their grass, oblivious to their fate.
Despite the beautiful surroundings, Manzanares proved
to be a few kilometres farther than I
would have liked. My body, my feet, everything just ached after more than 7
hours of walking and I knew that I was now also the proud owner of a blister on
my left foot. Adding insult to injury, my
water was also gone and although my map indicated wells, I was just not able to
find them. When my thirst became too strong, I went to a farm where they kindly
refilled my bottle with wonderfully cold water. I was generously rewarded for
all my suffering with a view of more mountains and a huge lake – Embalse De
Santillana – before finally arriving in the nice little town of
for the day. My hotel room had a view of the lake and a couple of nesting
storks provided the entertainment for that night.
Day 3: Manzanares –
Cercedilla
Woke up with feet on strike. After a hot bath (sorry,
I’m not quite authentic enough for cold lakes) I decided I would simply have to
soldier on. It was cloudy and cold outside and the man serving my croissant
mentioned it must be snowing in Cercedilla, my destination of the day. And did
I carry some extra clothes in that backpack?
Manzanares is not very big and after a short walk it was
behind me. I was walking next to some really high mountains now. How was I ever
going to cross those? The sky was grey but it wasn’t raining. Yet. The
landscape looked rough and raw. I walked on something that once must have been
a sandy road but it had collected so many holes that it was virtually
unsuitable for cars, before it gave way to a pebble path. My plan was to have
lunch in Navacerrada, unfortunately the last stretch of camino consisted of
walking on the verge of the carretera, which was a bit gloomy. The rain
that started to fall did not help a lot either. And just when I was about to
unpack my enormous raincoat I found myself in the middle of a roundabout
without any arrows
While I was struggling in
the rain with my book and coat, a car pulled over and lowered the window.
“Where are you going?’ asked a married couple. With the rain now pouring, I
could not resist their offer to cheat on the last few kilometres and off we
went to Navacerrada. After explaining what I was doing out in the rain, they
took my book and studied it and started to explain how to find my way in town.
They even dropped me off in front of their favourite restaurant. Thanks a lot!
After lunch, things improved. On my way into Cercedilla –
known for its beautiful surroundings and for the great opportunities to do some
hiking, not that I needed any more – I got company from a local man, a fanatic
walker who was very familiar with the area. He chattered away and he was so
very kind to give me his walking cane when he had to leave. I refused at first,
but he insisted and anyway, the cane might be useful at some point. Cercedillans
really are very friendly.
Day 4: A quiet day in
On the morning of my fourth day on the Camino I
decided there would be no walking that day. The prospect of 30 kilometers from
Cercedilla through Puente de la Fuenfría (the highest point in the mountains)
to Segovia with no places to stay in between was already a bit scary (around 8
hours, no breaks), but with my protesting foot it seemed impossible. Instead, I
took the train to
The Camino Romano, a path over the mountains that was built by the Romans and
had been in use ever since, would have to wait for another day.
I put on my second pair of shoes, enjoyed a train ride with
fantastic views and spent a quiet and relaxed day in
a few hours and it was not until now that I realised what a spectacular place
it actually is. The aqueduct and the Alcázar are beautiful, of course, but you
can also easily lose yourself in the old,
narrow streets in the centre . Quite a change from Tres Cantos, the village
built for technology. I even watched an Easter procession and went to see a
concert in a church. I was on some sort of religious pilgrimage, after all.
Day 5: Segovia – Añe
Having had a lazy day in
felt a lot better and I could continue my journey. Even leaving
the view of the city built into the slopes of the hills is postcard-perfect.
A new type of landscape began, typical for Castilla y Leon
according to my guide. Green hills, no trees, no bushes and a village every now
and then. A nice change from the Sierra. The walking was easier but the heavy
wind and rain had no problems creeping into the openings of my coat without the
mountains’ protection. I ate my lunch in Valseca and in the bar I was being
looked at as if I were the first stranger to drop by in months. Which was
probably true.
After lunch, I found myself lost again, ankle deep in mud
and far away from my familiar yellow arrows. Thankfully I was soon back on
track to Los Huertos, and Añe, thanks to the helpful reassurance of a local
shepherd. In the meantime, the rain had stopped and sometimes there was even
the odd ray of sunlight. What a difference a little sunlight makes.
Part of the camino to Añe was an old railway track, in the
process of being dismantled. The track and the sleepers were already removed to
make way for a new bicycle path and only heaps of rocks remained. Walking on
the loose boulders was no picnic, but, as I learned after being chased by a
pack of huge stray dogs in the lonely expanse between Los Huertos and Añe, it
turned out I was even capable to run on them. If you’re eaten by wild dogs in
the middle of nowhere and there’s no one around to hear your screams, did it
really happen? I didn’t want to wait around to find out. The fine things
adrenalin does to you: after 4 hours of walking with a backpack and overworked
muscles I was suddenly perfectly capable of conquering the rocks. After a very
long minute, the beasts finally lost interest but the experience left me
shaking. I had counted with many difficulties and dangers but stray dogs had
just never crossed my mind.
I had no other choice than to let myself calm down and
continue walking. Shortly after, I was rewarded with pine forest and hail.
Crossing the woods with only birds’ singing to accompany me was one of the
better moments of the day, especially when the sun also managed to break
through. The forest turned into an enormous and incredibly green and fresh
pasture with flowers and butterflies and… oh no… more dogs. Although these also lost interest eventually,
it was enough for me to decide to try to get back to
stiff, wet and hunted was enough. I would spend the rest of my week on my warm
and soft sofa.
At last: there was Añe. A grim and grey village that looked
more like a former Eastern European town. Bus? Sorry, no busses after 19:00.
And because tomorrow was Jueves Santo, there would be no bus either. And
because of Viernes Santo…. Oh God, how was I going to get out? People told me
that in the next village, Santa Maria Real de las Nievas, another 12
kilometers, there would ‘probably’ be a bus I could catch tomorrow. I felt
trapped in the middle of nothing. What a shitty day this was after all. The
only option I had now was to go and look for the local albergue or
acogida (on the Camino Frances they’re also called refugios), the very
modest pilgrims’ quarters situated along the Camino. My guide told me there
should be one and a few inhabitants were so friendly to explain: “You should go
to Pepe, he has the key” “Thank you, but where does Pepe live?” “Close to the
plaza, of course” “Ah yes, of course” Finally I found the key and after searching
for the “building with the white door close to the trees over there” for a
quarter of an hour or so, I could finally get some rest. Or so I thought.
I knew not to expect too much of an ‘acogida’ but I was
still swept away by the look of the place. Basic? That is not the word.
Primitive would be more like it. A few mattresses, blankets, a sink, a boiler
for hot water and an electric heater. And an awful lot of humidity, meaning mould
on the walls. And brrr! Was it cold! The guest book revealed there had been
nobody there for the last 6 months. Sure, the Camino from
months!? On top of everything, the electricity was on strike that day. I
thought about an entire night in a sleeping bag under mouldy blankets in the
near freezing temperatures with no light and no hot shower and I decided that
my Camino had ended. A friendly taxi driver and an even friendlier bus driver –
the official service between Segovia and Madrid had already stopped for the
day, but he was going to his home in Madrid, and would I care for a ride?-
later I opened my front door again and my Camino was over.
Is walking the Camino difficult? Yes. Horrible? Sometimes.
Worth it? Definitely, despite everything. Can you do it by yourself? Yes. You
learn more about yourself from hardship. And as a girl? I didn’t have any
problems – the people I met were all very friendly.
To do the Camino yourself
Look for the yellow arrows and the shell symbols. The
route is very well indicated and will only very occasionally coincide with a
highway. Yellow arrows will point you to the right direction. The route is
maintained by the volunteers of the Asociación de Amigos de los Caminos de
Santiago de
They walk it every spring to paint fresh arrows.
Prepare as best as you can. Walk as much as you can,
with the shoes you plan to wear. If you can, practise with extra weight. Try to
be able to walk at least 4 or 5 hours (the stretches on the actual Camino will
take 6-8 hours a day). Make sure to pack some emergency food such as a few
muesli bars. Carry water. Bring something for the rain that is also big enough
to cover your backpack. And a sleeping bag. If you are not a friend of wildlife
either, pack something for the dogs, just in case. Perhaps you could also put
in a spare pair of shoes, but try to limit your luggage to the absolute
necessary stuff. You will have to carry every kilo yourself and 7-8 kg. should
be your limit.
If you wish to have a
guide: ‘Camino de Madrid a Santiago de Compostela. Guía para peregrinos a pie, bicicleta y caballo.’,
published by the Asociación de Amigos de los Caminos de Santiago de Madrid (via
their website www.demadridalcamino.org or in shops from La Tienda Verde, Calle
Maudes 23 and 38, €15) is the easiest available book.
Give a copy of the route to
a friend, so he or she will know where you will be in case of emergency. May,
September and early October are the best months to start. If you want to do
only one day, I recommend the stage from Tres Cantos to Manzanares (27
kilometers).
Hostales where I stayed
Tres Cantos: Hostal Tres
Cantos (€45 for one night).
Manzanares: Hotel Parque
Real (€50 for one, after a bit of a discussion)
Cercedilla: Hostal Maya (€45,
really nice rooms, thin walls)
(€25 for a double room) and an in Añe: Pilgrims’ albergue (Leave a tip
and bring a sleeping bag. Or two. And a flashlight)
In March and April there was
no need to make reservations.
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