Catching a bug on the Killeshandra-Camino

WordSmith

Gerard Smith

My brother phoned the evening before my mega ramble, “I’m doing the Camino tomorrow,” I said. “What’s that?” he asked. I was taken aback as I thought the word ‘Camino’ was universally known as the term for a long, pilgrimage type walk; but the bro had never heard of it. Thinking about it, it’s only recently that the word walked into my vocabulary.

Our medieval forebears travelled to Santiago in Spain for the Santiago-Camino, a pilgrimage in devotion to St James the Great. Spain is still a popular Camino destination, although today it’s less about devotion to St James, and more of an appreciation of the land, nature, and the wellness inherent in walking. Come with me on the Killeshandra Camino.

6.40 a.m. and I arrived at the community centre. There was an excited buzz as others arrived to register and collect pedometers. This was my first Camino, and I wasn’t quite sure if I was up for it. But the organisers showed me the map and explained there were two shorter routes; their positive energy rubbed off on me and I became enthused by the challenge. I loaded up with fruit, water; and advice from seasoned long-distance walkers who were arriving. I set off at 7 a.m. for a 35.5km walk over Cavan’s hill and vale.

The translation of Camino is: path, road, or way. Our way began on the town footpath; we walked full of good cheer and gung-ho. I wanted to walk alone; yet I worried about getting lost. So, I made a note to keep a group of walkers in my sight. Although I had a map of the route, I knew nothing of the terrain; but the early morning warmth hinted at a big hurdle –heat.

As the town gave way to rural roads I settled into a steady pace enjoying the views and birdsong. The fields were summer-lush and mid-year groomed; curious cows craned their necks to look as we passed their patch. The road became narrower and the houses fewer.

Ahead of me, a young lad put up a trestle table outside his house; on it he put sweets and bottles of water. I took a couple of Haribos, “Thanks for doing this,” I said. “No bother,” he replied. He’d bothered to rise early on a Saturday morning to provide sustenance for his community – there’s so much bother and brilliance in that. His bother made my heart soar as I strode on.

A smiling man welcomed me to the 5km mark, “Good man,” he said. His good cheer buoyed me. The terrain changed, roads became rocky boreens. I felt good, full of fresh air and life-affirming energy.

The boreen gave way to woodland; which in turn showed the devastation wrought by storm Eowyn. By the time I reached 10km, I was in Leitrim; walking into the back entrance of a stately home – Killegar House. The lady of the house welcomed us warmly and provided refreshment; but fearing I may seize up if I stopped, I carried on 15km in, and I was back in Cavan – ascending hills ached. Over the next 5km I made my mind manage the physical strain of traversing Cavan’s drumlin terrain.

20km, I’d been walking for over three hours and I was physically fupped, to put it politely. I paused for a banana and mandarin – food provided by the Killeshandra-Camino-Gods (AKA, the organisers). Sustained, I continued on, following fellow walkers while not having a clue where I was – until I reached the iconic entrance to Killykeen Forest Park.

My legs hurt, but as I walked that long road I was met by familiar faces from Cavan coming the other way, their encouragement spurred me on.

When I saw the glisten of the lake I upped my pace and hit 25km before noon.

Into the woods and I was alone when my left leg spasmed and seized up. I stopped, stretched and said aloud, “Keep going Gerard!” I hobbled to 30km where I met the photographer, Una. She saw my pain, “Sit down a minute and focus, you can do this.” Her words were the fuel that got me to 35km – mind over matter, works.

I still had a half km walk up to the hall for replenishing refreshments. My legs screamed, “We’re on our last!” My mind answered, “You’re only just beginning.” I had a personal point to make to myself in completing the Camino, and I made it. The positive vibes from the people in Killeshandra’s community centre was a healing balm; and right there, in that hall, surrounded by the very best of human nature – I caught the Camino bug.