Days Passed Don't Return (video)

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A short documentary about an encounter with an old man along the ancient pilgrims route of El Camino De Santiago, Spain(St. James' Way).

By Marcel Baaijens.
Duration 2:46 minutes.
Spanish with English subtitles

Introduction

On the 9th September 2006 I headed for St. Jean Pied de Port, a small town in the French Pyrenees, to walk 764 km to Santiago De Compostella in western Spain. This walk is an ancient catholic pilgrimage walked by thousands for religious, spiritual and/or recreational reasons. I had 38 days to get there.

Walking that far is not quite recreation for me, neither am I a practicing catholic, but I did hope that walking ‘El Camino’ would somehow bring spiritual and transformational benefits. I had no idea what those benefits would be, if and how they would eventuate.

For the next 38 days I will publish one post each day about my experience of being on ‘El Camino’. I will attempt to convey my experience using text and images of video stills and soft pastel drawings made during the 38 days that I was on my way to the bones of Saint James.

Marcel Baaijens

1/38 Santiago Calling

One day I was explaining a to a fellow traveller that I was about to venture out into the world on a journey that I had just called ‘A Pilgrimage in Search of Self’. “Have you heard about a pilgrimage called ‘El Camino De Santiago’?” she asked. “No”, I said. “And I am not going on a religious pilgrimage”, I added hastily. The next day, just as I was about to lie in the sun and listen to some music, my minds eye began to see what seemed like a dream yet I was fully awake and aware.

Still from video: Cathedral of Santiago, Spain

I saw myself walking towards the dark silhouette of huge church with three windows lit. A sense arose that I had arrived at a very sacred destination after a very long and difficult journey, and feelings of overwhelming awe, relief, privilege, sadness and letting go. The emotions triggered actual sobbing from the depth of my being just as a nightmare can make you sweat and scream. “How strange”, I thought.

Still from video: Lourdes, France

The day after that, the ‘daydream’ was still puzzling me. I decided to check out the pilgrimage the fellow traveller mentioned. I vaguely remembered the name and searched the web. As a site opened with the image of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostella I could barely believe my eyes. The similarities between the image in my ‘daydream’ and the cathedral of Santiago were too close for comfort. The feelings I experienced during the ‘daydream’ immediately returned. I became aware of the pattern, took notice and I decided to accept the direction I received and begin my sabbatical with walking 764 km of El Camino de Santiago, The Way of St. James

Still from video: Sculpture of St.James along El Camino

I was raised in a catholic family, but I do not regard myself a catholic. If I look to a religion or philosophy for inspiration it is Buddhism rather than Christianity. Yet the more I thought about walking El Camino, the more appropriate it seemed to begin my ‘journey’ in the Pyrenees and walk to the bones of Santiago (Spanish for Saint James).

Still from video: Crypt where the bones of St. James are kept.

Saint James is one of the twelve apostles and a cousin of Jesus of Nazareth. It is said that he was buried in the north of Spain and that his bones are now resting in the crypt of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostella, Galicia, Spain. When his bones were rediscovered in medieval times it triggered a flood of pilgrims that never stopped. Albergues (inns) and hospitals for pilgrims were set up along the way to support the pilgrims.

2/38 Getting close, and yet...

On the 9th of September I boarded a plane in Amsterdam heading for Pau in the south of France. I planned to get to St. Jean Pied de Port, the starting point of Camino Frances. But all was not well. In fact I had been very ill for the last few days with glandular fever like symptoms. The fever would come in the afternoons and ease again in the evenings if I rested enough. When present it would sap all energy out of my body and make my legs feel like jelly.

I was anxious about going yet I did not want to abort my plans. Getting to the airport had strained my body. Feverishly I arrived in Pau. Once there I discovered that was too late to get to St. Jean Pied de Port, which could only be reached via a long detour via the coast. I needed to come up with an alternative plan. I was unable to begin a strenuous walk in the mountains anyway.

What now? I tried to remember what kind of support I would seek back home in times of poor health, and how I could find similar support in a strange town in France. As I was trying to figure that out I overheard someone asking the lady at Information for directions to Lourdes. A train would only take one hour and cost seven euro’s. Hmmm, it sounded like an attractive alternative to staying in this town full of Dutch tourists, but will it be a good place to heal myself? The fever slowed down my thinking and I remembered an event I attended before I left New Zealand about healing and water.

It was a presentation by Japanese scientist Masaru Emoto about his experiments with water. I had seen his work previously in the movie “What the Bleep…” He had photographed frozen water and discovered that polluted water or water exposed to negative words forms incomplete, asymmetrical and dull crystals and that water from natural springs and water exposed to loving words (such as prayers) forms brilliant, complex and colourful crystals.

The water in Lourdes is spring water and is constantly exposed to loving, positive words through prayer. Tens of thousands visit the spring each day and, most likely unknowingly, energise the water with their prayers. Maybe I do not have to consider believing in the famous miracle that is said to have happened there in order to benefit from a visit to Lourdes and get well. Maybe all I have to do is trust the healing power of water and go there with intend and focus to get well again.

Despite many negative reports about Lourdes about its ugly commercial side I decided to tag myself to the three people from my flight that were heading for Lourdes. We had to rush to catch a waiting train. With no time to buy a ticket and no inspector checking for tickets we had a free ride to Lourdes. As usual my fever was not affecting me that evening and I was able to go down to the sanctuary that night and watch the Marian candlelight procession.

3/38 Obstructing Clutter

Video still: Marian Procession, people clinging to their individual, group or national identity and pride in the sanctuary.

Last year I went to the area in India where H.H. The Dalai Lama resides. At first I only saw nothing but the commercial clutter of the town. On the third day I was finally able to connect to the essence and all the clutter and distractions were no longer an obstacle. Because of that experience in India I came to Lourdes prepared. I was able to ignore the commercial and even the religious clutter surrounding the Lourdes Sanctuary from the moment I got there. The connection with the essence of Lourdes was instant. I can understand why so many people dislike Lourdes.

Video still: Marian Procession

This day brought a surprise. The Opera of Napoli was in Lourdes on pilgrimage and gave a free concert that night in the church. It was just fabulous. The singing and music touched the core of my bones. Many pilgrims were very busy being busy, and never realised what a gift this performance was. Some even walked out without having enjoyed as much as a note.
Video stills: bored in the face of Light.

4/38 Daily Dose

Mornings
Gather food
Nurture body
Video still: Lourdes

Afternoons
Sleep
Heal body
Video still: Lourdes

Evenings
Film
Observe Essence
Video still: Lourdes

Nights
Drink
Absorb Essence
Video still: Lourdes

Inbetween
I
Try to figure out
An effortless way
To reach
El Camino
I
Am not succesful
At all
Maybe
I
Am not done
With Daily Dose

5/38 Daily Charge

Earth
Video still: Lourdes

Fire
Video still: Lourdes

Water
Video still: Lourdes

Air
Video still: Lourdes

Today
I
Found an effortless way
To reach
El Camino
Tomorrow
I will go
Video still: Lourdes

6/38 Singing in the Rain

Where do I begin to tell about all the jewels that rained on me today?

Keen as French mustard I packed my bag. My initial plan of starting my pilgrimage in St. Jean Pied de Port was not practical. Crossing the Pyrenees on the first day would be tough. Not a good idea for someone recovering from fever and jelly legs. No bus runs the short distance across the pass from St. Jean in France to Roncevalle in Spain. I believed that only in those two places the ‘Credencial del Peregrinos’ would be available, the card that gives access to the chain of pilgrim inns or ‘albergues’ along El Camino. After four days of trying, I finally found an alternative way by bus to reach to Roncevalle.

8:35 a.m., gare de Lourdes. Ready to catch the train, but no such thing as an 8:35 train. The next train is not till 11:13 a.m. Hmmm, what now? Co-incidences have been few so far, so I wondered what the purpose of this dis-connection meant. As I contemplated the question an instant answer came: Hitchhike, as in: beg for your passage to Pau. Nice one! Where did that mission come from and why? Not to save money or time, but for the experience of humility was the immediate answer, just as Buddhist monks are required to go beg just like Buddha did. Teo Baba, the man who I am planning to make a documentary about, did the same. I had plenty of time and nothing to loose but my pride, and an 11:13 train as a backup, so…

Video still: Jaca cathedral

It had rained solidly all night and morning, but as soon as I stood besides the road to Pau it stopped. Many French drivers turned up their noses as they spotted me by the roadside. I did not bother keeping my thumb up for women drivers, not expecting them to pick-up male hitchhikers. I was wrong.

After about half an hour a Spanish woman picked me up. As soon as I got in the car, the heavens opened again. She asked me where I was heading and why. Telling people about El Camino immediately shifts a polite chat into a deep conversation, she in French, me in French-ish. It was a great ride. In Pau I walked the last bit to the station. It still rained but I was singing, elated that my jelly legs were firming up and my backpack was bearable.

Video still: Jaca cathedral

At the station I saw four people talking over a piece of paper, a ‘credencial’. Pilgrims! They had what I still needed before I could start walking. I asked where they got theirs as I knew of only two places, St. Jean and Roncevalle. “Oh l’Office du Tourisme in Lourdes” they said, the very place I went daily to try to find out how to get to Roncevalle.

My first reaction was damn! Why did I not get one! Hmmm, I recognised an old ‘script’ creeping in. I often have such a reaction, which make me feel inferior, inadequate, lagging behind and stupid. As soon as I realised it was a conditioned response it lost its power over me. I was able interpret the event differently and I no longer felt bad. Instead I saw the whole experience a blessing, as one of the many signposts pointing to El Camino? Maybe I had not missed anything. Maybe I was alerted to the possibility of avoiding a 150 KM detour to Roncevalle. An hour-long wait at the next station in Oloron may be just that opportunity to find a ‘credencial’.

Video still: Jaca cathedral

By the time I got to the tiny station of Oloron, I had totally forgotten about the opportunity. I went for a walk into the old town to kill time with backpack and all. It was very cute, even though everything was closed for lunch and it still rained heavily. Back at the station I realised I had misread the timetable. I had a further hour to wait. Good news or bad news?

This time I remembered the need for a ‘credencial’, no time to feel bad, time to head back into the poring rain, but without my backpack. A station employee happily looked after it for me after he asked with a smile on his face if there anything ‘ticking’ in my pack.

Video still: Jaca cathedral

To my surprise I learned that Oloron was a stop along El Camino! There was an ‘albergue’ here that issued ‘credencials’. I was elated, and I was singing in the rain again; ’Boem si li la, qui la lu, on tutu, Mama dit, Papa poe ala lure” (a cheerful quasi French song created by Dutch comedian Toon Hermans).

Oops it was getting late and I had to run the last bit to the station. I might as well have ran without my rain gear. The perspiration saturated me as much as the rain would have. The rain would have probably smelled better. Out of breath I caught the last bus to Spain. I was sure to have blown my fever fuse by running, but no, I was fine. As I was beginning to dry out, the window fogged over. When I cleared condensation with my sleeve I saw a sign with: El Camino De Santiago. Shivers! I was in a bus on El Camino. I was there. I made it, no need to travel any further. I found myself on an alternative route of El Camino from France into Spain. I was getting the notion that maybe I was being guided… by whom or what I don’t know, but not me, that’s for sure.

Video still: Jaca cathedral

Maybe another cue to practice surrender the need to plan and control my destiny. My mind took little notice and began to figure out where to start walking, knowing that I had ‘lost’ 5 walking days in Lourdes. Then it dawned on me that I could just get off this bus and start walking tomorrow and worry about making up for ‘lost’ time later. My objective was to walk on El Camino, what better time than now to surrender and start.

The bus terminated in Spain still high up in the Pyrenees just across the pass. It was not only still poring with rain but it had become freezing cold too. No way was I going to start here, I would get sick in no time and I had spent enough time in Lourdes. There was a connecting bus a few minutes later to Jaca at the foot of the mountains, hopefully warmer. I did not let that opportunity pass.

Video still: Jaca cathedral

I fell in love with Jaca, so cute, intimate medieval streets and squares with a robust looking roman cathedral. Tapas bars serving small, tasty snacks, were a welcome relief from the tastless ‘tourist menus’ of Lourdes. Tapas are the perfect meal size for a hypoglycaemics like me. Things were cheaper here too, making me feel less poor. The rain stopped and the sun warmed the last few hours of the day.

I sat down near the cathedral to make my first pastel drawing. The interior was equally inspiring. The solid walls and vaulted ceilings had witnessed, captured and radiated a thousand years of people’s desire to connect with the Divine. I took my camera and with the help of my lens I observed and absorbed, what seemed for ages, the essence of this ancient site of worship. Exhausted but very happy I went to sleep in the ‘albergue’. I was ‘home’, ‘home’! Tomorrow I can begin to walk.

7/38 Treasure Hunt

Video Still: Trusted with the chapel key.

Crisp
Leaving Jaca
Yellow arrows
Brass scallop shells
Never lost really
Not a chance
They pretend
Not to care
Yet suddenly
Turn, point and say
“Santiago”
Some 806 km away
How do they know?
Why do they care?
Why do they give?
From their heart
A honk
A wave
A “Buen Camino!”
All must know
The potential of
El Camino

Video Still: water fountain Santa Celia

8/38 Albergue of Arres

Soft pastel sketch: village of Arres

12 of us
4 nations
2 bikes
1 table
Cramped
Cosy
All night long

2 of them
Caring
Cooking
Cleaning
For us
For the privilege
Of meeting us

Who, us?
Collette
Manfred
Caro…
Names
With
Only one label left: pilgrim

9/38 Ruesta Ruins

Video still: Ruesta

Too long
Too far
Too fast
For day three
No food
Till nine
Hypo’s* happening
All I remember
Is shaky blue
Inside and out

*see comment

Video still: Ruesta

10/38 Take Over of Overtaking

Video still: El Camino mirror

If I was going to make it to Santiago
I had to change
My pace
And state of mind

The mind
Was not to be asked
Said feet
Touching earth
Long enough
To gather sufficient
Energy
To effortlessly
Propel the body

The mind
Was not to be asked
Said breath
Breathing air
Slow enough
To gather sufficient
Oxygen
To effortlessly
Propel the body

With brain sidelined
Body surprisingly
Glided along El Camino
Twice
The distance
Today
Brain surrendered
Into an unknown
Deep sleep

Video still: El camino mirror

11/38 Jewel in the Night

People
Appeared
As I slept
Dead people
Translating past
Issues
Into present
Tense

Next morning
Still
Clinging
To my pack
Like a child to mother's skirt

I walked and walked
They 'talked' and 'talked'
Until
I opened my heart
I
Let them in
They
Let me go
To walk El Camino
A little lighter

12/38 Satisfying Perspective

Fast
Flying over
Happy
Slowing down
Here
So happy!

13/38 Essence of Being

Pastel sketch

With a noisy road close by and views of Pamplona’s brown smog in the distance, I was tempted to hop on a bus, and make up for lost time. But El Camino changed direction, revealing a little church on a hill…an Axis Mundi (a channel or conduit between divine and mundane realms), reminding me that walking well requires not only connection with the earth but also with ‘the heavens’ above. With that awareness I improved my walking another notch. The sky changed forever.

Video still: Eunate church

A little further I missed a vital Camino sign and ended up on a main road where noisy cars left little space for lost pilgrims seeking solitude. Just as I contemplated abandoning El Camino again, using the ‘make-up-for-lost-time excuse’, it threw another surprise jewel. A sign alerted me to a little domed church away from the main road. As I got closer I saw pilgrims. Hah! No longer lost!

Video still: Eunate church

As I stepped through the door… I lost myself for a moment or more, as if ego had gone for a walk and let me just Be in this timeless sanctuary of medieval simplicity. The moments of pure Being were interrupted when a busload of tourists gathered just outside the doorway to hear their guide regurgitate facts about the church. They all nodded, confirming they 'got' all that. So in they quickly squeezed through the door, looked around confirming with their eyes, each other and their cameras what their ears had heard. This wise old church remained unmoved by this tourist tornado. It remained grounded like a rock, guarding the essence of the site. It took me a little longer before I found a moment of Being again. If only I could be like that little church.

Video still: Eunate church

The house next door offered seven mattresses on the floor for the night. I was the last one in. Welcomed with fresh lemonade and melon I was glad I chose to stay rather than walk the last few kilometres for the day. Our host Jean locked the church and cooked a feast. After sunset he invited us back into the church. With the light of only a few candles Jean illuminated an Essence so pure, it send shivers up my spine like Kundalini energy. He sang an angelic Ave Maria that echoed right to the core of my bones where it got stored, and later released with each step along El Camino.

14/38 Water Channel

Video still: Camino Fountain

From Eunate it was one hour to Puente Le Reina. There, the trail I followed so far joined the main trail known as Camino Frances. Well over 200 people a day were on that trail. Many get up at six, which is about two hours before dawn, to race to the next stop to secure a bed for the night. That did not sound attractive at all. I had been spoiled with solitude and familiar faces of fellow pilgrims. What to do? Continue or do the ‘catching-up-for-lost-time’ now? Now was the time I decided. With a vague plan and no maps or books to guide me I took a leap of faith and boarded a bus heading north in the hope to find El Camino del Norte, an alternative trail leading to Santiago.

After a short stop in Bilbao and a visit to the Guggenheim museum, I was keen to get back on El Camino and find an albergue for the night. I was directed to one but found it closed, redirected to the next, but strangely missed the bus twice, hmmm maybe not. Time to rethink my plan and maybe cover more distance by bus now leaving more time to slow down later. I had to go back to Bilbao bus station to catch a long-distance bus. With two minutes to spare and no time to think I quickly ordered a ticket, to my surprise not to the planned destination but to Oviedo, the starting point of a different Camino known as El Camino Primitivo or The Original Camino. The many changes in direction made me wonder if I was doing the right thing, if I was going with the flow.

I arrived in Oviedo at 11 pm, too late to get to the albergue, and looked for a hotel. The first one was full, the second too expensive, but after getting a pilgrims discount I decided to stay and not search any further. Just as I settled into my luxurious room a thunderstorm hit ferociously. Then I knew I reached the right eddy and on time, meaning I must also be in the right, albeit turbulent, flow today. Is there such a thing as ‘being in the wrong flow’?

15/38 Buen Camino

Video still: Llampaxuga

Body parts hurt faithfully all the way, when one stops, the next takes over. Insects buzz around my head in various frequencies. Birds sing accompanied by differently tuned cowbells. An old man welcomes me into his sleepy village where time stood still. He sends me off with a big smile and a “buen Camino!” My soul is lapping it up. It is a buen Camino indeed.

16/38 Haunted Holiness

Pastel sketch: Fresno

With plenty of time to reach Santiago, there was no rush. At the Sanctuary of Our Dear Lady of Fresno I felt compelled to linger. I took out my sketchbook and sat down to draw. The sudden ringing of church bells made me jump. Happens on Sundays, but I had forgotten what day it was. For a while there was not a soul to be seen, but slowly worshippers arrived from nearby hamlets and the priest opened the door. Normally I don’t go to church, but on this day I could not just walk away. After mass I was called into the sacristy where I received a card with the image of Our Dear lady of Fresno, and two stamps, one in my ‘credencial’ and one in my sketchbook. I left blessed with a “buen Camino”. Video still: Fresno

All that was missing was a cheerful July Andrews singing the Sound of Music as I walked over the hills into the small village of San Marcello. No one had ever told me there is a saint with my name. Unlike the many dilapidated villages this one was just delightful. It had to be, didn’t it! It overflowed with flowers in my favourite colour, orange, true! They must have known I was coming. With the cutest little chapel locked, no accommodation or restaurant to provide shelter and with rain pelting down it was impossible to draw or linger, so time to let go and move on. Video Still: Fresno

The next albergue was located in an enormous half ruined monastery. The gate was locked, it was till raining and there was no shelter. I walked into the nearby village to find a nice café to hang out in. There were quite a few, but none to my liking. The last one just had to do. I asked the bar man if he happened to know what time the albergue would open. You never know who might know. To my great surprise he handed me a key as an answer, da key!
Video still compilation

Many historical places along El Camino have a wonderful feeling about them. This one didn’t. A barking dog trapped in of the ruined parts echoed the unease that hang about. I tried but could not find the dog. The five pilgrims staying that night had the luxury of a haunted dorm each.

17/38 Pointing in the Right Directing

video still

Only walked 10 km. I was very tired. Just before town a sign was saying albergue 1,5 km ‘this’ way, town 500m ‘that’ way. I needed food and reluctantly headed ‘that’ way, as it meant a one-kilometer detour to my lodgings for the night.

In town I saw one of the Spanish pilgrims from the haunted monastery getting ready to continue walking. Without being prompted he pointed to an unsigned albergue only 10 meters away, how did he know I was stopping so early in the day? What a wonderful surprise, although by now I should be used to receiving unexpected guidance. The albergue was tiny, a 6 bed basement dungeon with a toilet and a tepid shower all in one. Just like in the old days I suppose -minus the shower and toilet, they just stank all the way and washed in the last river just before Santiago. No spooky business this night and slept like a lamb.

18/38 Shadow in the Forest

Video still: El Camino

As I started the day with a steep ascend through a forest, an unresolved issue from the past began to weigh heavily on my mind. Resentment flared. Anger re-fired the argument in my head. Do I dig deeper and support my ego or do I forgive and lighten the burden on my soul? Silly question really, with a body hurting like hell who wants to carry additional baggage.

This was a tough one though, a very tough one indeed. I walked and walked yet had extreme difficulty to find a way forward. Many times I put the issue in the ‘too hard basket’, but I was still the one carrying that basket. So out it came again and again until some hours later... a shift took place, inside me. Had I really managed to let go of the issue?

To put myself to the test I imagined myself meeting 'the others' in the street and see what I would say. Back then it would be something nasty, bitchy, patronising. Now I was able to say something kind, forgiving, humbling. The resentment was gone, the issue had lost its emotional power. It was reduced to a memory that required little space, weighing next to nothing, freeing up capacity to enjoy the fresh forest air.