Brendan raises €16,000 for charity on an emotional walk to Santiago
On July 17th Clonmelman Brendan O'Mahony, from Cherrymount, undertook a lone walk on the Camino Ingles from Ferrol to Santiago in Spain, covering 150 kilometres. The walk was in memory of his 32 year-old son Conor, who died suddenly in 2006.
Brendan's trek raised sponsorship of j16,000, which will benefit CRY (Cardiac Risk in the Young). Here he gives an account of his journey.
The Camino Ingles, The Way of St. James, has been a pilgrimage route for 1,000 years, since pilgrims began walking this Camino – from Ferrol in Northern Galicia to Santiago de Compostela. The route began when English and Irish pilgrims could not walk through France during the 100 years war and so sailed to Curuxeiras Docks at Ferrol, the nearest port to Ireland.
It was from here that my journey began on July 17th. The Camino walk was to mark the 4th anniversary of our son Conor, who at 32 had died of (Sudden Cardiac Death) on July 25th 2006. Holy Year was to be celebrated in Santiago on July 25th, the same day as Conor's anniversary, and at a family dinner we decided that, in addition to the walk, we would raise sponsorship for CRY.
A lot of research was put into the route. Maps, boots, socks, a 26 litre pack etc. were acquired. I began to walk 10k at 6a.m. each morning with the 10kg pack, made up with two house bricks wrapped in a tea towel. My weight began to drop and despite an injury in June, which slowed things up, on July 16th I flew to Spain , feeling a lot lighter and ready to go. The next morning I left Ferrol to begin the walk.
Day 1 - Ferrol to
Pontedeume
I began to walk at 7.am. with three Swiss/German ladies. Kristina, a botanist, spoke fluent English and we marvelled at the heady smell of sage, oregano and wild mint growing as high and as profuse as nettles by the roadside. The ladies stopped in Neda. Fene was my fist stop. I planned to get my credential (Camino passport) stamped with a sello there. The town's sole occupant was a scrawny cat with heat stroke, sat in the middle of the main street. Everywhere was closed including the church – so no sello. Summer hibernation. I half thought Antonio Banderas was going to walk onto the street and challenge me to a gunfight. The temperature hit 35C and the route got tough as it went up rough steep mountain tracks washed out by recent rains. The 10kg backpack weighed a tonne (they're metric in Spain), but the only way was up. I had seen no sign of a soul for three hours and it occurred to me that if I fell I would never be found. I was struggling and was low on water when my phone rang. "Granddad this is Alice, we are very proud of you''. Alice is my 4 year-old granddaughter. She then put on her sister Lucy, who is 17 months. I heard my son Fintan whisper: "Where's Granddad Lulu?" "Gone walking" the tiny voice said. It was better than 2 litres of water. I walked on for a further gruelling 8 hours. When I dragged myself across the medieval bridge into Pontedeume I was exhausted. I had a cold bath, dinner and packed for the morning. I was asleep at 9 pm. The mantra of the Camino is: Walk, Eat and Sleep!
Day 2 - Pontedeume
to Betanzos, 22 km
Bright sunshine. No aches or pains, I really felt great. I got Mass and my sello from the priest. Everyone called out 'Buen Camino' as I walked past The 10km walk to the beautiful town of Mino, overlooking Betanzos estuary, was fine. As I passed two ladies, who were having lunch outside their traditional house, called me. Est indo na direccin incorrecta'. Direccion and incorrecta are the same in any language, I had taken a wrong turn. They were Magdalena and Carmen and in no time I was drinking a glass of red wine and eating lunch – Serrano ham, cheese, sweet tomatoes and black olives had materialised. We spoke in Spanish/Gallego for a time until they revealed they worked in London for years and so had perfect English. The impromptu lunch went on for 30 minutes but then I had to leave. Kisses on both cheeks saw me off. I crossed the riverbed at O Porco and despite being on tarmac the hills were steeper than yesterday. The heat was rising from the ground and it was like walking on a griddle. My pack was giving me balance but at one point I stood up too quickly and almost toppled backwards. Then my phone rang - "Granddad Brendan are you on top of a mountain'?" It was my 4 year-old grandson Cian who must be psychic. "Yes Cian I am. I just climbed a 500 metre mountain''. His sister Niamh, who is 2 came on and told me she had a new teddy. Cian summarised "Granddad will I tell you something – what? (prompt from the wings) - oh yeah ! we're all proud of you - byeee''. There was a palpable sense of achievement and relief when after 24km I marched through the Pont Vella and up into the medieval town of Betanzos. The Tourist Office had a bed in a barn booked for me in Viones for the next night. No one knew where it was and I had dropped some of my maps on the way, so tomorrow would be full of surprises.
Day 3 - Bethanzos
to Viones, 17Kms or thereabouts
7.15 am. I left for Viones. I crossed the bridge at Limion meandering uphill through trees from there. I passed the beautiful old San Tom de Vilacoba. The Camino way marking (a scallop shell points the way) is very good. Some helpful locals paint yellow arrows in electricity poles and even on the road when there is any doubt about the way forward. Nothing much was moving in the heat, even the flies were staying indoors. I had walked 21km and I knew Viones could not be too far. I came to a fountain with fresh, clean and very cold water and spoke with a local man. It was from him that I learned villages have more than one name and next stop Vizoo was indeed the 'lost village' of Viones. However hope turned to despair - the barn was full. Plan B. I called Antonio at my stop in Meson do Vento to collect me at the bottom of an infamous hill 5km further on. He would drive me back next day to complete the walk. His father checked me in with a litre of ice cold draught Estrella. Dinner at 8 was with the family. Madre had prepared pulpo - octopus tentacles. Delicious – honest, I will be demanding them at home all the time now! No packing - I was going back uphill the next day. Bliss. I slept the sleep of the just or something akin to it.
Day 4 - Climb Every
Mountain
After breakfast of hot black coffee, glazed donuts with custard in the middle (some diet), Antonio dropped me at the bottom of the hill. It was steep but manageable. Halfway up an old lady leaning over a gate shouted 'Buen Camino Senor' and then gave a raucous Woodbine laugh. I took the laugh to mean "You nut case''. I strolled down to Hospital de Bruma where there is a beautiful renovated auberge built beside a fast flowing stream and, as the name suggests, it was a hospital for pilgrims going back 1,000 years. I walked to Meson do Vento and – my family and friends will laugh – I had to force myself to eat or I wouldn't have had the energy to walk. The sun was still high in the sky when the wind rose. It bent the eucalyptus trees double. Meson do Vento means 'House of the Wind'. I drifted off to sleep to the sound of wind whistling through the trees. I dreamed tomorrow would be cool and all downhill.
Day 5 - Meson do
Vento to Ordes
Antonio took my photo for the record and I was off before 7a.m. Dreams do come true -all downhill now and the temperature had dropped to a mere 28 C. The view was magnificent. Fields of corn, as high as the proverbial elephant's eye, rolled out before me. Pine and eucalyptus trees lined the horizon. The road meandered in a long ochre ribbon in front of me for miles. It was the first opportunity I had to reflect on what I was doing here. My son Brian had loaded some of Conor's music on to my iPod. It began with Bob Dylan's nasal tones singing Forever Young.
May God bless and keep you always / May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others / And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars / And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young / May you stay forever young.
This verse is on Conor's headstone. It's how we will always remember him – Forever Young.
I walked to Ordes listening to Conor's eclectic mix on the iPod: Ron Sexsmith, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Johnny Cash, Simon and Garfunkel, Nina Simone, Kris Kristofferson, The Eagles. The day got hotter, 38 degrees – I didn't mind. When I arrived in Ordes I bought some fruit for lunch - two peaches, two bananas, a bag of cherries and strawberries – all for €1.37 ! Every cloud……….
Day 6 - Ordes to
Marantes, 20km
Ordes was sleeping as I left at 7 am. Local people had no idea where they were on a map – but then I was the one who was lost. No one seemed to know where the Camino was so I trusted in my sense of direction. I was not really lost, I just didn't know where I was – there is a subtle difference After an hour of rambling I came to a Camino way mark shell and I was on my way. I had a text from my sister Rhona saying "Enjoy coffee at Buscas''. I was puzzled how she knew where I was. Then I realized she was tracking me on a map. I turned a corner and there was the coffee shop in Buscas. Coffee, a bottle of ice cold water, double expresso for pep, served with 2 slices of lemon cake and biscuits – €3.80.
The double expresso made walking effortless. It was a case of enjoying it and the wonderful scenery, not unlike Ireland, except every square centimeter was planted – even by the margins and hard shoulder of the roads. I reached Sigueiro and walked on to stay in a small hotel in Marantes, 10km from Santiago. The owner was a kind, gentle spoken man who sat with me while I had a beer. I had learned enough Gallego to relate what I was doing and why. Goosebumps rose on his arms when he heard how the date of Conor's anniversary coincided with the feast day of St. James. He said "It's not a coincidence Senor, this was meant to be''. I asked about dinner.
"Fish?", he said. Excellent. When I came down there was one place set. The waitress, an elegant elderly lady, who looked about 85, had dressed up in all her jewellery and make-up and she served a home- cooked spread. She was gracious and served without haste. Each time I thanked her she replied "A usted Senor." "And the same to you Sir". Her genteel manner was wonderful. I discovered the following morning, when I asked to leave a tip for her, that the hotel did not do dinner but the manager had arranged for his elderly mother to come in and cook. Galecian hospitality.
Day 7 - Marantes to Santiago, 12km
The last leg. The walk today was partly on a busy road with lots of traffic. A steep rise presented no difficulty. I was buzzing and there was no effort in the walk. I was now just 5km from Santiago and I could feel it getting closer with each step. A large roundabout loomed ahead and I could see no sign for Santiago. A young Brazilian man passed me. He had – of all things – a hand-held GPS Sat Nav. I followed him. Oh St. James, if you could see us now following your way via satellite. He moved ahead and I came up over a rise – there in the valley in front of me were the spires of the cathedral in Santiago. I knew it wasn't a mirage. I called my wife Margaret but I was overcome and couldn't speak- a first for me. I think I said "I've made it ! I can see the cathedral – I'll have to call you back''. On down through the dark narrow streets and then I turned a corner into the sunlight on Obradoiro Square. Six days, 150 km 35 degrees Centigrade, struggling uphill, dehydration - all disappeared. I had arrived in Santiago - four years to the day after Conor had last left home.
Margaret and Kevin flew in on Saturday. We went to Mass in the cathedral on Saturday night and saw the famous incense burner, the Botofumeiro, swinging over the congregation on a rope suspended from the ceiling. We hugged the statue of St. James and I was presented with my credential cert in Latin to show that I had completed the 150 km walk. There was an estimated 150,000 in the main square on Saturday night but when the three of us walked the last leg together on Conor’s anniversary, early on Sunday morning, July 25th, we went up through the old medieval town and it was empty. We were in the square for Mass at noon. At home our other two sons Fintan and Brian paused at noon and for a while, in spirit, we were all together again.
I’m back safe and sound. The people of Galicia were outstanding in their welcome. It was a wonderful and worthwhile experience. Another milestone for all our family. In the process €16,000 has been raised in sponsorship for CRY (Cardiac Risk in the Young). This was done by family, friends and neighbours who filled sponsorship cards, by personal donations - big and small – from a wide variety of people and by businesses and companies who made contributions to the fund. A sincere thanks to all for your generosity. Many people helped me walk the Camino. On Sunday in Santiago, as promised, I remembered all of you. I walked the Camino and though I was alone in the physical sense there were many, many people, family, friends, neighbours and sponsors and our son Conor, who had walked with me. Deus bendiga a todos. God bless you all.
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Weather for Clonmel
Wednesday 08 February 2012
Today
Light rain
Temperature: 4 C to 6 C
Wind Speed: 17 mph
Wind direction: South
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