I walked the Camino de Santiago for the first time 13 years ago, and since then I like to return for a few weeks each summer, and I become one of the many unpaid volunteer 'pilgrim helpers' who offer help to pilgrims in need. My way of doing this is that I park my motorhome at remote wild places on the trail and offer cold water, cold fruit juice, First Aid for blisters and tendenitis, and any other help that I can give to anybody who needs help. Upwards of 400 pilgrims pass by each day in mid summer. And often I meet someone unusual......and they stop and we chat...... in Spanish, French, pidgin German or English ..... and out of that meeting there might come an unusual interesting story. So later I 'write it up' and sometimes I send the story and photos to EL PEREGRINO magazine ....and I am also saving these stories in my computer, and one day I might have enough true-life short stories to fill a book.

I call this true anecdote relating an event that happened to me over 4 years ago....



Pilgrim Bettina's Camino Drama.
It all started one very hot day in late June when I was parked in a remote wild desolate place on the Camino de Santiago in north Spain, about 6 kms east of Astorga city, and over 200 kms from Santiago. I was offering cold drinks, First Aid, and any other help needed by the passing pilgrims. Over 400 people carrying their heavy backpacks trudge past any one spot on the trail per day in mid summer and often some of them need help of some kind.

It was late in the afternoon. Most of the pilgrims for that day had already passed by, when a woman came striding along with a backpack on her shoulders and a jolly smile on her face, and seeing me sitting inside my motorhome, she waved at me. Then she came to my open side door, peeped in, and said .....'Hello, I can see the Union Jack flag in your window..... so you must be British'

I concured, and invited her to come inside out of the burning hot sun and have a drink of cold fruit juice from my fridge ... and a chat. She readily accepted, and when she had offloaded her heavy backpack on the ground outside, and we had shaken hands, and she was sitting comfortably on the settee just across from my seat by the table, as she sipped her cold drink, we exchanged some typical pilgrim talk.
"Hello, my name is Bettina, I am Danish from Copenhagen.
Where do you come from....?
What is an Englishman in this motorhome doing parked here in this wilderness ?

I-have-pain-in-my-legs-and-blisters-on-my-feet-and-oh-what-a-hot-day-it-is-today...!" Then I asked her how many days she had been walking, where did she start from, was she enjoying the experience, and if she was walking the Camino with anyone else...?
She went a bit quiet then, and a sad look came over her face. Her head fell forward, and she looked down at her boots. I softly asked if there was anything the matter.? She slowly looked up, took a deep breath, and quietly revealed that she had a VERY BIG problem, and she didnt know what to do. Her cheeks flushed a bit, and her eyes started to go misty, as she told me that about two weeks ago she had met 'the man of her life' on the Camino. He was a fellow pilgrim, his name is Rolf, from near Dusseldorf in Germany. They had been instantly attracted to each other, and had walked and talked for many hours together every day for more than a week on the Camino...... and fallen deeply in love with each other...!

After telling me that, she told me the rest of her long sad story in an emotional spasmodic and broken way. But when I joined all the details up afterwards, it came out like this.
They ate all their meals together, and each night these two love-stricken pilgrims had slept in albergues (pilgrim hostels) in single bunk beds, each in their own sleeping bag, a metre apart in typical crowded pilgrim dormitories, and after 'lights out' they silently reached out in the dark and squeezed each other's hands across the gap between them as they dropped off to sleep. And by day they were inseparable ..... walking about 25 kms from morning till evening ..... holding hands all the way. Until the fatefull day arrived when they had walked out of the beautiful peaceful countryside and entered the grimy industrial suburbs of the big city of Burgos.

They came to a bus stop. Rolf declared that they should take the bus into the centre of the city, because (as his Pilgrim Guide Book warned) there are eight horrible kilometres of industrial buildings and factories, sprawling crowded commercial suburbs, with lots of noisy heavy traffic to endure along the only road into the centre, which completely shatters the peace of mind and tranquility of soul that most pilgrims seek. He wanted to see the Cathedral before it closed, and the bus would quickly take them there. Many pilgrims take a bus at that place, and there were some already waiting there at the bus stop. But Bettina thought that this was wrong. She said that in her view pilgrims should never take a bus. She told him that she would walk on...... and catch up with Rolf at the Cathedral later. They discussed where they would meet, and then she marched off.


But after that.....she never saw Rolf again.....!



As she told me this she burst into tears, and her head fell forward on to my shoulder. I put my arms around her shoulders, patted her back in an 'Uncle John' sort of way, and murmured 'there, there, there' as comfortingly as I could manage. After a while she composed herself a little, and went on to tell me that when she had reached the Cathedral two hours later, there was no sign of Rolf. She walked around inside and all around the outside of the enormous Cathedral, and a large part of the medieval city centre...... searching for him for a long time. She met and spoke with some other pilgrims who had also taken the bus. But none of them could help her. And neither could I, as again she crumpled up, utterly disconsolate, and wept and wept, sobbing uncontrolably, with her head buried into my shoulder, ....... and her beautiful long curly blonde hair tickling my nose.....!

We were sitting very closely opposite each other, and both of us were wearing shorts. Carefully I shuffled my knees sideways so as not to touch her bare knees with mine, and I turned and reached behind me for a roll of kitchen paper towelling, tore off a sheet with only one hand (difficult) , lifted her chin and dabbed her puffed up crying sky-blue Viking eyes, and while she continued to weep I was thinking....... "How on earth can I help her to find this man that she has lost....?"

I offered Bettina another paper towel, and gently I asked her some more questions. I learnt that this slim and pretty woman is 42 years of age, she looks and sounds very intelligent and educated, works at a responsible job as an editor in a publishing company, and is normally very sensible. But she had panicked in the middle of Burgos city, and in a confused state of mind she had walked on towards the next albergue on the Camino. When she arrived in Tardajos village 9 kms further on, it was beginning to get dark, but there was no Rolf in the albergue. So as night fell she walked on yet 3 more kms in the dark to the next village, Rabé, and went into the albergue there for the night.

Lying in her bunk sleeplessly tossing for hours and thinking and worrying, she convinced herself that Rolf must already be at the NEXT village ..... waiting for her. So before dawn she set off again at a very fast pace, but when she reached Hornillos ..... there was no sign of Rolf there either. Dismayed she hurriedly walked on to the next village, and the next, and the next, and the next. And so on, marching along feeling miserable for many days. On some days she covered up to 40 kms in the blistering heat of the Spanish summer....! As you might know the average pilgrim only covers about 25 kms daily, and when she reached the spot where I was parked, she had already covered over 180 kms from Burgos, and she was still convinced that her hearts desire was just a little way ahead, and she would catch up with him ..... if only she could keep going at this extraordinary gruelling fast pace every day...... until she would find him.

Eventually I released her shoulders, gave her another paper towel, and got up and had a think. Here was a serious situation. And serious situations demand a cup of strong English tea.

So I put the kettle on...!

While we silently sipped our cups of black Indian tea, I thought very carefully about her problem. Then gently ... ever so gently ... I asked her in a whisper ..... if she had considered the possibility that Rolf might actually be BEHIND her...? She stared glumly down at her feet, and just sniffled and ( very ladylike ) blew her nose into the fourth sheet of paper towelling that I had offered her.
She didnt say any more. So I took command.
I told her to finish her tea, while I cleared the decks and put things away, brought her rucksack into the van, closed the side door, slipped into the driving seat, started up the motor ..... and as she sat down in the front passenger seat ...... I engaged gear and let out the clutch and off we drove ...... BACK along the trail, in the opposite direction of the Camino, back towards where she had just come from.

45 minutes later, after a very rough ride over a very bumpy rugged stony track ..... stopping now and again to ask passing pilgrims if they had seen Rolf.... we reached the village of Santibañez. Rolf was not in the albergue there. Nor in the next village called Villares further on over a track that was even rougher. Two hours after we had started, we reached Hospital de Orbigo village and I pulled up in the street in front of the albergue. Bettina went in while I waited outside. Three minutes later she emerged ...... with a man.....! They were clinging on to each other ...... and both were weaping tears of joy.

Bettina had found Rolf, and Rolf had found Bettina.

Over three cold beers from the fridge in the van ( and more sheets of paper towelling for her puffy smiling eyes)..... as they sat side by side with their arms around each other, Rolf told me what had happened. There had been a misunderstanding at the Burgos bus stop. They communicate with each other in a mixture of German and English. He had thought that he had clearly explained that he would meet her in the albergue, which his pilgrim guide book said was ....very near to the Cathedral. So after he had visited the Cathedral, he had gone in to that pilgrim hostel.

But Bettina had not understood clearly.
She had not searched in the Burgos albergue for him at all ...... somehow convincing herself that Rolf had said that if she did not find him in or near the Cathedral in Burgos when she arrived there......he would meet her in the next albergue.

So she marched out of Burgos...!

Love sometimes makes people deaf...... as well as blind.

We finished our beers and made an arrangement to meet in Santiago, and then I drove away, leaving them waving and smiling, each with an arm around the other.


They walked together for two more weeks, and later they phoned me and I met them in Santiago de Compostella city. They invited me for a meal in a restaurant, of pulpo, the typical Galician octopus dish, which was delicious. The next day Rolf flew back to Germany from Santiago airport, and Bettina flew to Copenhagen the next morning. I gave her a lift to the airport in the van, and the last thing that she told me was that as soon as she would reach her home she would dump her worn out pilgrim clothes, boots, and backpack, have a long soak in a hot bath, go to her hairdresser, hurry back to her home and put on her prettiest frock and shoes, pack a suitcase, lock up her house, and drive her car to Germany as fast as she could go. She and Rolf have made big plans, and now they are together near Dusseldorf. Everybody is happy. Especially me. I like helping pilgrims in any way that I can, and this was a very special 'pilgrim assistance' incident which I will never forget.
And by the way...... I have since then stocked up with plenty more paper towelling......!



John Francis....... hoping to find a mature witty woman who will accompany me the next time that I go to the Camino de Santiago to walk some parts ...... and also to help pilgrims.

A thoroughly enjoyable read. My heart felt for her. I hope they have remained good friends of yours.