Living like a Pilgrim/Bum

I returned a few days ago from a 220-kilometer pilgrimage in the Northwestern Spanish province of Galicia. The pilgrimage is called Camino a Santiago de Compostela and is the oldest known religious pilgrimage in the world. You can start from just about anywhere since there are routes that run to Santiago—the capital of Galicia and the end destination of all the Caminos—from Portugal, various parts in Spain and even France. I met some grizzled old Germans who had been walking for over a month and heard of a man who started from Berlin and ended in Santiago 4 months later…wow.

My four friends and I decided to undertake the Camino Portuguese, a short hike that runs 114 kilometers from Tui—a small town on the border of Spain and Portugal—to Santiago. After reaching Santiago, 2 of the girls flew to Valencia to head on various trips. The three of us that remained made the grueling and far more beautiful 100-plus kilometer journey from Santiago to Finesterra—a coast town whose name translates to “the end of the earth”.

So what does this holy trek have to do with food? Well, the province of Galicia is renown for its seafood. It is the only place in the world with Pulperias—restaurants and bars devoted to serving the provincial staple food, pulpo or octopus.

Despite this glorious food tradition, I didn’t indulge myself every day. The life of a pilgrim is a tough one. We soon discovered that the only thing separating pilgrims from bums is three euros a day. That’s it…three euros. Why three euros? Well, that is the price of the albergues, little refuges set up every 15-30 kilometers on the trail for pilgrims to rest their aching feet, clean their filthy clothes and wash their dirty bodies in low pressured, frigid showers. The albergues vary in quality but they look like huge dorms full of bunk beds and grimy pilgrims from all over Europe.

For most of the trip we ate bum food. I’m not saying this out of ignorance but because on several occasion we saw actual bums buying the same food as us—loaves of bread, slices of cheese, a jar or two of veggies and some cheap booze. While drinking isn’t the best way to sustain your weary body on a grueling pilgrimage, it’s probably one of the best ways to pass the time and meet crazy foreigners. Despite one killer hangover I encountered after cooking a feast of mussels accompanied by a bottle of wine, 4 bottles of cider and a twelve pack of beer, cheap booze remained a staple of the Camino.

Despite the bum lifestyle, we did allow ourselves some delicious celebrations. Like I said, Galicia is famous for seafood and once we reached Santiago, we stayed for three days eating, drinking and partying with some ridiculous Spaniards we met along the way. Every restaurant in Santiago has a large window displaying their fresh fish and all are ridiculously cheap for the quality. It goes without saying that in Santiago I overcompensated for all the supermarket bread and canned sardines I ate on the way there.

And now the photos:

The famous pulpo. This place cooked the stuff outside to order in a huge cauldron. Not the best I had all trip, but probably the freshest. The first warm piece hit my tongue approximately 30 seconds after the woman fished the octopus out of its boiling bath.

Fun with food that, for some reason, makes a lot people squeamish.

Wine in Galicia is nowhere as good as its seafood. However, it’s customarily drunk from a bowl. The best wine is a white called Abariño. We met a jolly ol’ Galician drunk in Santiago who happily demonstrated the pleasure of drinking bowl after bowl of Galician wine.

The end of a delicious plate of mariscos varios.

Pulpo con patatas, another delightful treat.

No need for this photo, I just like to stare at the eight-armed goodness.

The whole spread from left to right: pulpo, mejillones picantes (spicy mussels), gambas a la planca (pan fried shrimp), queso de pais, pimientos de Padron (small green peppers fried and topped with course-salt), ensalada.

Galicia has a ton of specialty licors and sweets. This here is my delicious afternoon snack of café solo and a slice of Tarta de Santiago, a light and cakey almond pastry. To make them even better each cake is dusted with powered sugar and stamped with a giant cross. Ahh, Jesus pastries.

Café Licor, Café Crema and Licor con hierbas—just three of the endless local licors made from a strong, grappa like neutral spirit.

During the trip two of us actually graduated from college. To celebrate our time as unemployed college graduates, I ordered up a liter of a local dark lager. Later that day we bought a bottle of Cafe Crema, a Torta de Santiago and partied in the park to some live music. What a way to start “real life!”