The Barefoot Killer

Here is my favorite part of the day in photograph form. The first hour of walking. My legs feel fresh, my pack magically lighter than yesterday. The air is crisp like fall in New England. I walk toward the setting moon, behind me the rising sun, and above me a deep blue sky still speckled with stars. The dogs haven´t started barking yet. The air is still and my mind almost quiet.

Tonight I sleep in the city of Lugo - the capital of Galicia, the "old city" is entirely surrounded by a 3rd century Roman wall of 8-12 meters in height. A mere 103 km separate me from Santiago now. So perhaps it is time to ask who or what is Santiago anyway? And why on earth am I walking towards it as if this alone is what I were born to do? A few days ago I went to the public library in Grandas de Salime to learn more about Santiago and to use the internet for free. I learned quite a bit about the man we call St. James, but because the internet is obviously way more interesting than history, there remain a few gaps in my knowledge, which I will fill with pure speculation. Fortunately, this is a blog, not a dissertation.

James - son of Zebedee and brother of John - was a fisherman until he met Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus said something that caused James to re-evaluate his priorities. James realized that catching fish with a net was not, in fact, his calling in life. James and John became disciples of Jesus. After Jesus´well-documented death, the apostles brought the Gospel to the world. James, who had always kind of wanted to travel anyway, decided that he would walk to the end of the world (the northwestern corner of the Iberian Peninsula). It took him a few years, but James brought Christianity all the way to "Spain". He liked the area so much that he chose it as his burial site, which he would soon occupy. After walking all the way back home, James was beheaded.

Many centuries later, a blinding light alerted the local population to the presence of a corpse of supernatural powers. Then king, Alfonso II, became the first pilgrim around the year 800. Others followed - presumably because Alfonso needed help cooking and bathing and dressing - and a great tradition was born. Here comes my favorite part. You were probably thinking this story couldn´t possibly get any better, right? Well, it does. This is the part where Santiago, the man who walked - supposedly barefoot - across Europe preaching love, becomes Santiago Matamoros - "The Moor Killer". In the 10th century, with the Iberian Peninsula occupied by infiedels from northern Africa, Christian soldiers began to report Santiago sightings during victorious battles. Radiant white light eminated from Santiago, who rode a horse and carried a staff or lance or lightsaber. The soldiers repeatedly invoked the name of "Santiago Matamoros" and slowly but surely drove the Moors from the peninsula. This legend helped to inspire the later creation of "los caballeros de Santiago" - the knights of St. James - a religious military order dedicated to killing people for Jesus and protecting pilgrims enroute to Santiago de Compostela.

So if you´ve been worried for my safety as I travel in foreign lands, fear not! I have an order of knights watching my back. Hmmm... I better amend my last blog entry where I said I´m not a devout Christian.

Thank you so much for all of your "comentarios". They make me smile and laugh. To answer a few questions. Yes, I did mount the antlers of the ATM when I eventually caught it. No, my blog will not soon be released in book-on-CD format (anyone know a good agent?). And yes, I did decide to bring my camera with me on this trip and I think that was a good choice.