This morning at 7:30am in the small town of Trabadelo I staggered around, in desperate need of a bathroom.
Yes, we’re starting there.
Luckily the views up to that point were immaculate. Here is a sunrise picture of Villafranco de Bierzos I took this morning.
Eventually I heard someone tuning a piano, which led to the discovery of an ajar door, which I entered and very desperately asked to use the restroom. I think the lady could see the terror on my face and was kind enough to say sure.
Crisis averted.
Afterward, I stayed around a bit longer just to hear the guy tune the piano - I’ll admit I had no idea how it was done, and I wanted to ask but I also didn’t want to be too much of a burden.
Listening to the chords being played brought me all the way back to one of my original motivations for the trip - to busk with my oboe. I was inspired by a travel blog by this guy named Alastair Humphreys. In this article, he recounts walking across Spain with no money in his pocket, and just a plan to busk with the violin (which he had only been learning for a few months, which I promise means it sounded BAD and extremely out of tune) in order to make ends meet: https://alastairhumphreys.com/my-motivations-for-busking-through-spain/.
It just seemed so daring and so adventurous - reading his thoughts was captivating.
Humphreys mentions as his anecdote playing in a “sleepy Galician town.” It is fitting, then, that I write about this during my first day in Galicia, Spain.
The sign confirming our entrance into Galicia.
I am so glad I did not have the space to bring my oboe, as to not even have the temptation to busk. The experience has reframed my inspiration as exploitation.
My experience is that many of the towns that the Camino passes through are not of very high income - the relationship between locals and pilgrims is, as such, complicated. The Camino provides much of the revenue of these towns, and actually a lot of these towns only exist because of the Camino. If you want to read more about this you can here: https://www.mercurynews.com/2022/06/20/camino-pilgrims-help-keep-rural-spanish-towns-alive/amp/.
There are plenty of ethical nuances to this relationship (that in some cases is just dependence), but I’ll focus on one part of this: it quickly became obvious to me that the exact worst thing to do when visiting and inhabiting these towns is to ask locals for money. Ideally you are doing the opposite, and only the opposite - investing money into these towns that provide food and shelter for tired pilgrims after a long day of walking.
I realized that when I originally read Humphrey’s story I was inspired by just how ridiculous it was, but I conveniently left out in my mind why it was ridiculous, which is that it was borderline exploitative. And honestly I am a bit disappointed I didn’t seriously consider this earlier, and it may just have to do with how obsessed I am with music and how pure I always think it is.
Here’s why I think “exploitative” isn’t too overheated an adjective. Humphreys uses the story of his violin busking to plug his book. We have here the portrait of someone who, instead of using his privilege to invest into community, justifies under the guise of “adventure” making a ruckus in various small towns across Spain, begging his way into getting money, and then using the idea as fodder to sell a book where likely none of the profits go back to these towns. In the article he doesn’t even mention the name of a single town - “Galician” is as specific as it gets.
Now to qualify this a bit - I really don’t mean to bash this guy. Clearly he loves adventures and traveling and taking risks and has been lucky enough to make a living out of it, and that takes a lot of gall. But you can kind of alter the angle at which you see this situation and come away with a completely different takeaway, which is what has happened for me here.
I have trouble all the time asking myself about the limitations of spreading the beliefs that you believe very deeply. You could argue that the Crusades were justified out of a very deep belief in spreading a set of faiths and practices that would benefit all to inhabit. You could argue that the more people learn about traveling adventurously, the happier we all will be as a species. You could argue any of your most deeply held political values and beliefs under the guise of spreading that which has been transformational for your journey, and framed this way, you could sound reasonable.
For myself personally, my original inspiration for this journey is no longer the inspiration. I didn’t intend to write a substack piece every day and it has become my ritual because it has been just that meaningful. And I am happy to share and spread an experience that I already believe has been transformational for my journey through life - and Humphreys would agree. So much so that he wrote a book.
Before 7:30am I recall worrying a bit that I was running out of things to talk about, that I wouldn’t be able to post every day the next week and feel proud of each and every one.
Lucky me that my stomach told me otherwise.