Santiago de Compostela
I have started reading one of my Christmas presents: "The Templar's Penance" by Michael Jecks. It is a mediaeval 'whodunnit' set in and around the great pilgrimage city of Santiago de Compostela in North West Spain. The first few chaopters have already stirred in me vivid memories of my own pilgrimage there in the summer of 2004.
Here is the account of it that I wrote at the time.
Santiago de Compostela, the resting place of the relics of the apostle St James in the northwest corner of Spain, was (along with Rome and the Holy Land) one of the three great Christian pilgrimage sites of mediaeval times. In terms of numbers, it has now been overtaken by more modern shrines such as Lourdes and Fatima but it remains probably the greatest proper 'pilgrimage', with great significance attached to the journey, not just the fact of visiting the city itself.
I would love to be able to report that I had taken up my pilgrim's staff, filled my gourd with water, slung a scallop shell around my neck and walked the pilgrim's way or "Camino". Sadly (but you may think not surprisingly) I have to report that my pilgrimage was accomplished with the assistance of an air-conditioned coach and four-star hotels.
Our group of twenty-two, led by a flamboyant Irishwoman, and including pilgrims from Trinidad, Australia and Hong Kong, started off from Bilbao in which we only had time to view the outside of the famous Guggenheim museum
Our first stop on the Camino proper was at Burgos, which has a cathedral regarded as one of Spain's three finest examples of Gothic architecture. I was not quite as enthralled by this as I thought I ought to be: too much had been added on over the centuries leaving a rather 'mix-and-match' feel to it.
Leon, our next overnight stop, impressed me much more. The Cathedral is a truly magnificent example of Gothic architecture in the French style, filled with superb stained glass windows. We were fortunate to be shown around by a guide who did not just tell us the history of the place but explained the symbolism of many of the statues and, particularly the windows. They are laid out so that, first thing in the morning, in the north aisle, scenes from the Old Testament are illustrated. Then, as the day wears on and the sun becomes stronger, it is New Testament images that are highlighted. Having a priest in our party, we were able to have our own early morning Mass at the High Altar, at which I was invited to sing. That Mass, with the morning sun just starting to break through the fabulous stained glass and with Gregorian Chant bouncing around the acoustics of the empty Cathedral remains one of my greatest memories of the pilgrimage.
By now we were less than 200 miles from our destination and stopped at Astorga to visit its Cathedral and Bishop's palace. The Cathedral was a total mix-and-match mess but the palace is extraordinary. It is one of only three buildings that Gaudi designed outside of Barcelona and has the outside appearance of a fairy-tale castle with an inside that displays Gaudi's genius for shapes and arches that look as if they should not be able to stand.
By now we were really hitting the Camino and there were regular sightings of the true pilgrims walking along the road. After another day's travel and Mass in a tiny 9th century church set among mountains shrouded in mist, we were in sight of our goal.
As the feast of St James (25 July) fell on a Sunday this year, which makes it a special 'Holy Year' for Santiago, I expected it to be busy. When we arrived, we were told that the King and Queen were to be there for Saturday evening and Sunday, so for 'busy' read 'insane'. It did mean that is was a very exciting time to be there. The place was crowded and packed with bands playing, folk dancers dancing and then there was a huge and spectacular firework display over the Cathedral to mark midnight and the start of the Saint's Day. I decided that discretion was the better part of valour the next morning and stayed in my air-conditioned hotel room to watch the Mass attended by the King on the telly.
I was very fortunate in that a distinguished early music group called "Organum" was in Santiago to sing for the Feast Day. I was able to attend their Lauds (morning prayer) in the Cathedral and also a concert reconstruction of a Pilgrim's Mass from the 12th century. The latter was particularly interesting and impressive as the choir roared out the mediaeval pilgrim's hymn to end the Mass, complete with early harmonies and droning basses.
The modern "Pilgrim's Hymn" is rather less thrilling, rather more sentimental and, alas, is sung in Spanish rather than Latin. But it does accompany the unique experience of Santiago: the swinging of the "Botafumeiro" at the end of the Pilgrim's Mass. This giant thurible (incense burner) hangs at the crossing between the nave and the transept and is the size of a small dustbin. Suspended on a single rope, it is first lowered to be filled with incense by the officiating bishop; then it is set gently swinging. As a group of men pull on ropes to lift it, the speed of its swing increases until it is soaring across the whole width of the cathedral, reaching almost up the roof. After my pampered and air-conditioned journey, I found this a stirring moment. I suspect that if you had been walking for six weeks and this was the climax of your pilgrimage, the experience would be overwhelming.
Here is the account of it that I wrote at the time.
Santiago de Compostela, the resting place of the relics of the apostle St James in the northwest corner of Spain, was (along with Rome and the Holy Land) one of the three great Christian pilgrimage sites of mediaeval times. In terms of numbers, it has now been overtaken by more modern shrines such as Lourdes and Fatima but it remains probably the greatest proper 'pilgrimage', with great significance attached to the journey, not just the fact of visiting the city itself.
I would love to be able to report that I had taken up my pilgrim's staff, filled my gourd with water, slung a scallop shell around my neck and walked the pilgrim's way or "Camino". Sadly (but you may think not surprisingly) I have to report that my pilgrimage was accomplished with the assistance of an air-conditioned coach and four-star hotels.
Our group of twenty-two, led by a flamboyant Irishwoman, and including pilgrims from Trinidad, Australia and Hong Kong, started off from Bilbao in which we only had time to view the outside of the famous Guggenheim museum
Our first stop on the Camino proper was at Burgos, which has a cathedral regarded as one of Spain's three finest examples of Gothic architecture. I was not quite as enthralled by this as I thought I ought to be: too much had been added on over the centuries leaving a rather 'mix-and-match' feel to it.
Leon, our next overnight stop, impressed me much more. The Cathedral is a truly magnificent example of Gothic architecture in the French style, filled with superb stained glass windows. We were fortunate to be shown around by a guide who did not just tell us the history of the place but explained the symbolism of many of the statues and, particularly the windows. They are laid out so that, first thing in the morning, in the north aisle, scenes from the Old Testament are illustrated. Then, as the day wears on and the sun becomes stronger, it is New Testament images that are highlighted. Having a priest in our party, we were able to have our own early morning Mass at the High Altar, at which I was invited to sing. That Mass, with the morning sun just starting to break through the fabulous stained glass and with Gregorian Chant bouncing around the acoustics of the empty Cathedral remains one of my greatest memories of the pilgrimage.
By now we were less than 200 miles from our destination and stopped at Astorga to visit its Cathedral and Bishop's palace. The Cathedral was a total mix-and-match mess but the palace is extraordinary. It is one of only three buildings that Gaudi designed outside of Barcelona and has the outside appearance of a fairy-tale castle with an inside that displays Gaudi's genius for shapes and arches that look as if they should not be able to stand.
By now we were really hitting the Camino and there were regular sightings of the true pilgrims walking along the road. After another day's travel and Mass in a tiny 9th century church set among mountains shrouded in mist, we were in sight of our goal.
As the feast of St James (25 July) fell on a Sunday this year, which makes it a special 'Holy Year' for Santiago, I expected it to be busy. When we arrived, we were told that the King and Queen were to be there for Saturday evening and Sunday, so for 'busy' read 'insane'. It did mean that is was a very exciting time to be there. The place was crowded and packed with bands playing, folk dancers dancing and then there was a huge and spectacular firework display over the Cathedral to mark midnight and the start of the Saint's Day. I decided that discretion was the better part of valour the next morning and stayed in my air-conditioned hotel room to watch the Mass attended by the King on the telly.
I was very fortunate in that a distinguished early music group called "Organum" was in Santiago to sing for the Feast Day. I was able to attend their Lauds (morning prayer) in the Cathedral and also a concert reconstruction of a Pilgrim's Mass from the 12th century. The latter was particularly interesting and impressive as the choir roared out the mediaeval pilgrim's hymn to end the Mass, complete with early harmonies and droning basses.
The modern "Pilgrim's Hymn" is rather less thrilling, rather more sentimental and, alas, is sung in Spanish rather than Latin. But it does accompany the unique experience of Santiago: the swinging of the "Botafumeiro" at the end of the Pilgrim's Mass. This giant thurible (incense burner) hangs at the crossing between the nave and the transept and is the size of a small dustbin. Suspended on a single rope, it is first lowered to be filled with incense by the officiating bishop; then it is set gently swinging. As a group of men pull on ropes to lift it, the speed of its swing increases until it is soaring across the whole width of the cathedral, reaching almost up the roof. After my pampered and air-conditioned journey, I found this a stirring moment. I suspect that if you had been walking for six weeks and this was the climax of your pilgrimage, the experience would be overwhelming.
posted by Alnwickian at 1:00 pm
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