In the second part of his article, Joseph Busuttil recounts his experience as the first Maltese hospitalero voluntario (voluntary helper) in the tiny village of Bercianos del Real Camino, halfway along the 800-kilometre Camino Francés route. Read the first part here.

There are five other private albergues (hostels) in Bercianos del Real Camino and the parish refuge is situated behind them all at the very end of the local Camino trail. Yet, in two weeks, 355 pilgrims from 39 different nationalities sought our shelter.

Most arrived on foot carrying a heavy backpack, others preferred travelling light, using a luggage delivery service company to transfer their onerous pack from one albergue to another. Seven pilgrims came by bike, including Niamli, an Irish mother living in Spain who arrived with her son,  Oscar, just 10, also on his own bicycle!

Luckily, the weather in those two weeks was warm and sunny, with one exception, when a tormenta (thunderstorm) tore through the tranquillity early one day to make it a miserable morning for the pilgrims who had to continue on their way in the pelting rain.

Running the refuge is not a bed of roses: preparing a three-course meal when the number of pilgrims who will be at table is unknown beforehand – some came in when we were about to start eating − can be perplexing. Some travellers are vegetarian, others vegan, a few are allergic to something. Being a veggie myself, I looked after this minority.

Although the meal might not have been classed as a Cordon Bleu offering, it was healthy, hearty and plentiful – with a first course of mixed salad; followed by lentil or chickpea stew with meat products like chorizo, jamon (dry-cured ham) and mocilla (a type of sausage) as a second course and a Macedonia dessert. Bread was aplenty and wine free flowing – parish priest Padre Jorge subscribed to the view that wine is the pilgrim’s blood!

There were the petty complaints which had to be dealt with diplomatically: some wanted to open a window, others preferred it closed. A few insisted on leaving early in the morning, before the official opening time. Snoring in a communal sleeping area can be an inconvenience and when one suffered from such a state, we tried to find a solitary space away from the complaining crowd.

Many pilgrims turned up with feet blue, bruised and blistered, telltale signs of walking long distances. While hosvols (voluntary helpers) provide basic first aid, any situation smelling serious has to be referred to medical attention. There is no resident doctor in Bercianos; a visiting medical officer comes from Sahagun two mornings a week. The nearest hospital is in Leon, 50 kilometres away.

The plethora of personalities provided pretty pieces that, put together, constituted a colourful collage of life

In early October (2019), the month I was there, an American pilgrim died of a heart attack in an albergue nearby. Just down the road from our refuge, a broken stone cross commemorates a German traveller who passed away on the spot. The Camino is definitely not for the faint-hearted.

A hosvol means being busy and labouring long hours. Yet, all fatigue faded far away when encountering the pilgrims. The plethora of personalities provided pretty pieces that, put together, constituted a colourful collage of life.

Some were challenging, like Anne from Texas, who refused to give her passport or identity number as she was a member of the US military forces and that would have constituted “a security risk”. On the other hand, Jacques, a former French gene­ral in the Iraqi war, revelled in recounting his military experiences, all security notions thrown to the wind.

People do the pilgrimage for various reasons. Some seek self-enlightenment and future direction, like Sophie from Denmark, a people’s person who would like to be a life coach; Soomee from South Korea, who said he wanted to go into fair trade to try and help disadvantaged producers; Julie, a young nurse working in a French hospital with public and private beds, who could not stand the different treatment given to the two sectors; and Neomi, an Italian archaeology graduate who was doing catering work in Rome owing to the poor working conditions of her chosen profession.

Others do it for religious reasons: Kim, a Christian from Taiwan, was helping his older brother, Ming, a Buddhist, suffering from the early stages of Parkinson’s Disease, both of them walking as thanksgiving to their respective deities. Similarly, a white South African couple, Michael and Lara, together with their daughter, Jane, were grateful for having so far survived the racial tension and violence in their country.

“The problem is not the black or white people but the politicians who split society in groups with their incendiary speeches and strategies,” Michael told me before he left.

The pure joy of walking, discovery and de-stressing in the process is also a motivator, according to Angelo Santo, an Italian chef with many years of experience in a leading hotel. Of a similar view were Royce and Courtney, shepherds from New Zealand, who tend to thousands of sheep and cattle  and who had taken a year off to travel in Europe, urging people to join the flock and sharing their experiences by visiting their website aptly named The Travelling Shepherds.

A hosvol means being of service to others without being servile. My two fellow hosvols Luis, Marc and I worked well as a team in this direction, so much so that some pilgrims thought, to our amusement, that we were ser­ving in a holy order, like the Benedictines! The hosvol badge with a human figure with all-embracing open arms, which we proudly wore, might have misled them into thinking so.

We gave, without taking, thinking, or seeking thanks. However, some pilgrims, before leaving in the morning, would come to say thank you, shake hands or give a friendly embrace. On our part, we would see them off in pitch darkness with a heartfelt “de nada” (you’re welcome) and the friendly farewell of “buen Camino” (generally received as good luck and happy travelling).

After two weeks, I embarked on my own camino back to Malta, tired but thankful for having been given this unique opportunity to volunteer in an albergue and see how the other side lives, after years of being a pilgrim myself.

In the process, my memory lane has expanded with more attractive avenues, housing unforgettable people and personalities. Last but not least, in times of trouble, my coping skills now strongly incorporate the philosophy of the Bercianos farmers: “no pasa nada” – it does not matter, for things could be worse! Buen Camino!