- My name is Santiago, although I’m not from the place, and I liked Elena’s pilgrimage to Santiago. Can you give us a few quotations from the book of that German pilgrim you mention?
- Yes. The author of the book is Hape Kerkeling, star comedian on German television, and I’m going to quote to you a few passages from it. One of them made me cry. Another made me laugh. I hope you spot them. At the end you’ll become serious.

Once I get to the hilltop, there is a majestic view of Nájera, the former residence of the Navarrese kings. And while I gaze down into the valley, I think: What I wouldn’t give to be able to talk about this experience with a good friend, in my own language!
Shortly before I reach Nájera, I find a gigantic thirteen-by-thirteen-foot billboard in my path. It’s smack in the middle of nowhere. I am quite astonished to read what’s on it. A poem. In German! Only in German! The anonymous poet describes his feelings during the pilgrimage. I goes something like this:

‘Why do I deal with the dry dust in my mouth,
the mud on my aching feet,
the lashing rain and the glaring sun on my skin?
Because of the beautiful towns?
Because of the churches?
Because of the food?
Because of the wine?
No. Because I was summoned!’

While reading the poem, exhausted and covered in dust from top to bottom, I have no choice but to relive every word. These words are true in some mysterious way.
(p. 59)

Larissa treats me to a beer, and we start to talk. Her face clouds over as she tells me that this is her second journey on the Camino de Santiago. In 1999, she hiked this trail with her daughter Michelle. Michelle was then thirty-two, and had breast cancer. Mother and daughter were quite devout, and they were determined to walk the Camino. Since Michelle was unable to carry a back pack, they bought a donkey named Pierrot in southern France on the spur of the moment, then spent two weeks hiking to Santiago with the donkey as best they could, until Michelle was no longer able to endure the pain of her tumour and had to break off the journey. Larissa and her daughter headed home to the Netherlands, where Michelle died fourteen days later. This year, Larissa began her trek at exactly the spot in southern France where Michelle stopped in 1999. Larissa is determined to make it to the end to honour her daughter’s memory. [My eyes get wet again when typing this. I cannot help it.]
(p. 82)

Tina has a wonderful pilgrim story to tell. Earlier on the trail, she couldn’t find laundry detergent in a tiny town. Since she doesn’t speak Spanish, she made a series of wild gestures to show the saleslady what she wanted. The saleslady gave her a package of something or other, which Tina happily purchased and brought to the pilgrims’ hostel. When Tina later opened the little package over the sink, she found out that it contained liquid vanilla pudding. So she washed everything in vanilla pudding! ‘My clothing may not have been clean’, Tina explains, ‘but it smelled very good!’ [And here I burst into laughter again.]
(p. 117)

Each year, thousands of pilgrims’ passports are issued, but only fifteen percent are actually stamped in Santiago.
(p. 157)

I can neither relate nor record what I experienced yesterday. It is inexpressible. I highly recommend hiking for seven miles without speaking or thinking. Larissa had told me something back in Grañón that I thought rather foolish at the time: ‘Everyone eventually gets to the point of bursting into tears somewhere along this route. You just stand there and cry. You’ll see!’
Yesterday was the day it happened to me. I was standing right in the middle of the vineyards, and out of nowhere I began to cry. I cannot say why.
Exhaustion? Joy? Everything at once? Whining near the wine? In spite of it all, I burst out laughing.
Then it happened! I had my very own encounter with God. What happened there is between Him and me. The bond between Him and me is an entity unto itself.
To encounter God, you first have to issue an invitation to Him; He does not come without being asked – a divine form of good manners. It’s up to us. He establishes an individual relationship with us. Only a person who truly loves is capable of sustaining this relationship.
Yesterday it was as though a huge gong had rung in my head. And the sound will reverberate. Sooner or later the Camino shakes us to our very foundations. I know that the sound will gradually fade, but if I prick up my ears, I will hear the reverberation for a long time to come.
For all intents and purposes, my quest is at an end here, because I have found the answer to my question. From now on, this journey will be purely for pleasure.
(p. 225)

My pilgrimage can be interpreted as a parable of my path through life.