Monasterio San Antón
I was in the first group in Australia who trained as hospitaleros in January 2015 under the excellent tutelage of Julie.
In March that same year I saw a request for volunteers at the ruins of the Monasterio San Antón, a few kilometres before Castrojeriz on the Camino Francés. I had very strong memories of the year before of walking through its archways and wanting to see more of it. Here was my opportunity.
I responded to Rebekah Scott, the hospitalero co-ordinator and, miraculously, was accepted for the last week in September. Even more miraculously, I was granted the extended time off work. If I am on the Camino, for whatever reason, I am going to walk to Santiago de Compostela so it was time to research a different route.
I arrived in Castrojeriz after an uneventful journey, jet-lagged and sleep deprived. I slept soundly in the Hotel Iacobus, coincidently owned by Ovidio Campo who also manages San Anton.
Carrying extra items to leave at San Anton I was in need of transport and was easily able to find a cab to take me the short distance to San Antón. Upon arrival, I was very warmly greeted by the two outgoing hospitaleros and the hospitalera with whom I would be serving.
On the first day on the job, I was instructed by my co-hospitalera to take a huge pot of scalding water outside and pour the water into the wash bowl which was filled with sheets. I questioned the safety of this activity however my query was brushed aside and I was told that we had to do this to check for bedbugs and that the boiling water would kill the bedbugs if there were any. I could see the value of bedbug prevention but was still not happy about carrying a hot pan with boiling water however I could not see any way around this dilemma.
I picked up the pan and promptly spilled scalding, still bubbling, water over my right forearm and wrist. There was no initial pain - not a good sign. The pain did kick in and, on a scale of 1-10, it was a 10. Thankfully the water in the tap was blessedly cold (some might even say freezing), perfect for my current situation. Half an hour of freezing water, a dressing, a Panadol and a prayer and I was back hand washing sheets. I put the brain back into gear and worked out a safer way of doing the task and had no more mishaps during my stay. A few days later we had two delightful Irish burn specialist nurses to stay and they very kindly gave me some fresh dressings to tide me over until I could buy more.
Injuries under control, I continued to wash 12 sheets by hand each day and I was very happy at the increasing strength in my arms from wringing them out. Occasionally a passing pilgrim would stop to help me wring some sheets but, by the end of the first week, my wringing had become so efficient that even with the assistance of a pilgrim we could not squeeze another drop out of the sheets.
Before I turn everyone off volunteering at San Antón I must stress that the washing of the sheets was not usually done at the refuge but, rather, they were picked up by Ovidio a couple of times a week and taken away to be washed. We just happened to be there when Ovidio was on holiday and the gentleman who took over at the Hotel Iacobus was not offering the same support. I am also happy to report that there were no bedbugs to be found during this period.
Ovidio also usually did the shopping for us. We would ring or give him a list when we went to the hotel for our shower and he would deliver the shopping to us on his way home. While he was on holiday, one of us would go into Castrojeriz to shop. I had a small, light backpack that I would take into town and bring back as much as would fit in the bag. We did this daily to keep the load reasonable. For the last week we were joined by Angela, a beautiful Spanish lady. Angela volunteers in Castrojeriz for one week every year and was a wealth of knowledge and a load of fun.
Now we were three which proved to be much better in distributing the workload. As San Antón is open from dawn to dusk and we welcome all who pass over the threshold, we can be kept quite busy. Quite a number of pilgrims who had not planned on stopping so early felt drawn to stay the night and we found that we were full most nights. It was only during the last week when we were drawing close to October and the nights were chilly that the crowds were slowing down and we had some empty beds.
I will take you through a typical day (if such a thing exists) at San Anton.
The alarm goes off at 5:00am and it's time to dive out of bed, dress quickly, hike to the bathroom for a quick ablution and use of the sole toilet before unlocking the kitchen/dining room/common area. Only a dividing wall separates this area from the sleeping quarters so it is necessary to work quietly.
Light the candles, light the butane stove, start a couple of pots of water and prepare the coffee percolator. Set the table, slice the left-over bread for toast, take the milk, butter, jam and Vegemite (yes, I took a jar) out of the small butane-run fridge and start boiling the eggs. We found that eggs were cheap and we placed a hardboiled egg on each plate every morning. Most of the pilgrims ate the egg for breakfast but some took theirs for consuming on the way. We also cooked extra eggs to add to the evening salad.
About 5:45am we put the first percolator on the stove and as the smell was wafting over the wall our pilgrims started to arrive for breakfast. Breakfast was typically quite swift with some pilgrims staying to wash or dry the dishes.
After Angela joined us, we started to attend Mass at the Santa Clara Convent, about 3km walk through the farmland toward Castrojeriz. Many a morning we would be accompanied by a few pilgrims. It was a wonderful way to say "Buen Camino" to our new-found friends. The Poor Clare nuns also loved having the pilgrims attend their Mass. It was a great privilege to be welcomed so fully into their lives however so briefly.
After Mass, it was into Castrojeriz for a quick shower, a coffee and a bite to eat. We were usually too busy at breakfast to eat. Of course, if I hadn't been planning on going to Mass then there was time to eat. Using the list prepared the night before, we did the shopping and then walked "home".
Back at San Antón it was housekeeping, washing, cleaning and greeting. I took a homemade fruit cake over with me and served it when I made a cup of tea in the afternoon. We usually had few pilgrims booked in by then although, in the first week, we were full by midday.
Around the middle of the day the pan (bread) van would arrive. We used the money from the donation jar at the gate to buy our bread. These were donations left by tourists or pilgrims just stopping to look or rest. The pan man also sold the freshest eggs I have ever bought.
We had a small vegetable garden. It was late autumn so there was not a great deal left but sometimes we could find some vegetables or herbs to use in the evening. Using any left-over water to pour over the vegetable garden helped with our supply. We would also organise a blackberry picking party made up of one hospitalera and a couple of pilgrims. On return, someone would be put to work washing the blackberries and somebody else would mash them with a fork. The plumpest berries were kept for decoration and the mashed ones were mixed with natural yoghurt - DELICIOUS.
Late afternoon we would start preparations for the evening meal. This was the most social part of the day. There were plenty of helpers to hand and, as my background is in nursing, I am very good at allocating tasks. One day a lovely young lad asked if he could cook the evening meal for us. I replied that I would love for him to help to which he replied "no, I want to cook, you can help me if you want to". I cannot remember what he said his job was but he was a great cook and I learned a few things from him.
Every night the evening meal was amazing. I am not talking about the food although I must say that the food always went down well. It was the whole experience and of course that would change with each fresh group of pilgrims. The meal usually comprised of either pasta or rice and a vegetarian tomato based sauce which was greatly appreciated by our vegetable starved pilgrims. We always made an ensalada mixta and tried to serve some sort of dessert, even if it was just my fruit cake, pastries from Santa Clara Convent or our specialty, "blackberry delight".
We started with Grace. We would ask if anyone would like to say something but it was usually left to me. We would all eat together and the spirit was convivial. After the meal we would ask everyone to "sing for their supper" even though they had already eaten. The talent we had there during the two weeks that I was serving was amazing. We had a group of Irish men whose singing blew us away and a group of German ladies who sang matins in the evening and then lauds in the morning. One young lady told us that she could not sing so she did a belly dance instead - she drew great applause! Every night was different. One night we had a lovely man turn up to entertain us with his singing and guitar playing and we included him in the meal. He had earned it.
After our meal it was all hands on deck and everything was cleared, washed, dried and put away in no time. If it was a clear night we would be outside marvelling at the sky with stars so thick you could not put a pin between them.
While working at San Antón was challenging at first, I was able to remind myself of my reason for being there. I also realised that serving as a hospitalera was another aspect of my pilgrimage and that I had to accept the lessons that I was being taught if I wanted to grow.
Life as a hospitalera at San Antón is full of love, hugs and appreciation. There are many special people who I will not forget and I look forward to serving there again. Hopefully many times.
Kristine, April 2016
I was in the first group in Australia who trained as hospitaleros in January 2015 under the excellent tutelage of Julie.
In March that same year I saw a request for volunteers at the ruins of the Monasterio San Antón, a few kilometres before Castrojeriz on the Camino Francés. I had very strong memories of the year before of walking through its archways and wanting to see more of it. Here was my opportunity.
I responded to Rebekah Scott, the hospitalero co-ordinator and, miraculously, was accepted for the last week in September. Even more miraculously, I was granted the extended time off work. If I am on the Camino, for whatever reason, I am going to walk to Santiago de Compostela so it was time to research a different route.
I arrived in Castrojeriz after an uneventful journey, jet-lagged and sleep deprived. I slept soundly in the Hotel Iacobus, coincidently owned by Ovidio Campo who also manages San Anton.
Carrying extra items to leave at San Anton I was in need of transport and was easily able to find a cab to take me the short distance to San Antón. Upon arrival, I was very warmly greeted by the two outgoing hospitaleros and the hospitalera with whom I would be serving.
On the first day on the job, I was instructed by my co-hospitalera to take a huge pot of scalding water outside and pour the water into the wash bowl which was filled with sheets. I questioned the safety of this activity however my query was brushed aside and I was told that we had to do this to check for bedbugs and that the boiling water would kill the bedbugs if there were any. I could see the value of bedbug prevention but was still not happy about carrying a hot pan with boiling water however I could not see any way around this dilemma.
I picked up the pan and promptly spilled scalding, still bubbling, water over my right forearm and wrist. There was no initial pain - not a good sign. The pain did kick in and, on a scale of 1-10, it was a 10. Thankfully the water in the tap was blessedly cold (some might even say freezing), perfect for my current situation. Half an hour of freezing water, a dressing, a Panadol and a prayer and I was back hand washing sheets. I put the brain back into gear and worked out a safer way of doing the task and had no more mishaps during my stay. A few days later we had two delightful Irish burn specialist nurses to stay and they very kindly gave me some fresh dressings to tide me over until I could buy more.
Injuries under control, I continued to wash 12 sheets by hand each day and I was very happy at the increasing strength in my arms from wringing them out. Occasionally a passing pilgrim would stop to help me wring some sheets but, by the end of the first week, my wringing had become so efficient that even with the assistance of a pilgrim we could not squeeze another drop out of the sheets.
Before I turn everyone off volunteering at San Antón I must stress that the washing of the sheets was not usually done at the refuge but, rather, they were picked up by Ovidio a couple of times a week and taken away to be washed. We just happened to be there when Ovidio was on holiday and the gentleman who took over at the Hotel Iacobus was not offering the same support. I am also happy to report that there were no bedbugs to be found during this period.
Ovidio also usually did the shopping for us. We would ring or give him a list when we went to the hotel for our shower and he would deliver the shopping to us on his way home. While he was on holiday, one of us would go into Castrojeriz to shop. I had a small, light backpack that I would take into town and bring back as much as would fit in the bag. We did this daily to keep the load reasonable. For the last week we were joined by Angela, a beautiful Spanish lady. Angela volunteers in Castrojeriz for one week every year and was a wealth of knowledge and a load of fun.
Now we were three which proved to be much better in distributing the workload. As San Antón is open from dawn to dusk and we welcome all who pass over the threshold, we can be kept quite busy. Quite a number of pilgrims who had not planned on stopping so early felt drawn to stay the night and we found that we were full most nights. It was only during the last week when we were drawing close to October and the nights were chilly that the crowds were slowing down and we had some empty beds.
I will take you through a typical day (if such a thing exists) at San Anton.
The alarm goes off at 5:00am and it's time to dive out of bed, dress quickly, hike to the bathroom for a quick ablution and use of the sole toilet before unlocking the kitchen/dining room/common area. Only a dividing wall separates this area from the sleeping quarters so it is necessary to work quietly.
Light the candles, light the butane stove, start a couple of pots of water and prepare the coffee percolator. Set the table, slice the left-over bread for toast, take the milk, butter, jam and Vegemite (yes, I took a jar) out of the small butane-run fridge and start boiling the eggs. We found that eggs were cheap and we placed a hardboiled egg on each plate every morning. Most of the pilgrims ate the egg for breakfast but some took theirs for consuming on the way. We also cooked extra eggs to add to the evening salad.
About 5:45am we put the first percolator on the stove and as the smell was wafting over the wall our pilgrims started to arrive for breakfast. Breakfast was typically quite swift with some pilgrims staying to wash or dry the dishes.
After Angela joined us, we started to attend Mass at the Santa Clara Convent, about 3km walk through the farmland toward Castrojeriz. Many a morning we would be accompanied by a few pilgrims. It was a wonderful way to say "Buen Camino" to our new-found friends. The Poor Clare nuns also loved having the pilgrims attend their Mass. It was a great privilege to be welcomed so fully into their lives however so briefly.
After Mass, it was into Castrojeriz for a quick shower, a coffee and a bite to eat. We were usually too busy at breakfast to eat. Of course, if I hadn't been planning on going to Mass then there was time to eat. Using the list prepared the night before, we did the shopping and then walked "home".
Back at San Antón it was housekeeping, washing, cleaning and greeting. I took a homemade fruit cake over with me and served it when I made a cup of tea in the afternoon. We usually had few pilgrims booked in by then although, in the first week, we were full by midday.
Around the middle of the day the pan (bread) van would arrive. We used the money from the donation jar at the gate to buy our bread. These were donations left by tourists or pilgrims just stopping to look or rest. The pan man also sold the freshest eggs I have ever bought.
We had a small vegetable garden. It was late autumn so there was not a great deal left but sometimes we could find some vegetables or herbs to use in the evening. Using any left-over water to pour over the vegetable garden helped with our supply. We would also organise a blackberry picking party made up of one hospitalera and a couple of pilgrims. On return, someone would be put to work washing the blackberries and somebody else would mash them with a fork. The plumpest berries were kept for decoration and the mashed ones were mixed with natural yoghurt - DELICIOUS.
Late afternoon we would start preparations for the evening meal. This was the most social part of the day. There were plenty of helpers to hand and, as my background is in nursing, I am very good at allocating tasks. One day a lovely young lad asked if he could cook the evening meal for us. I replied that I would love for him to help to which he replied "no, I want to cook, you can help me if you want to". I cannot remember what he said his job was but he was a great cook and I learned a few things from him.
Every night the evening meal was amazing. I am not talking about the food although I must say that the food always went down well. It was the whole experience and of course that would change with each fresh group of pilgrims. The meal usually comprised of either pasta or rice and a vegetarian tomato based sauce which was greatly appreciated by our vegetable starved pilgrims. We always made an ensalada mixta and tried to serve some sort of dessert, even if it was just my fruit cake, pastries from Santa Clara Convent or our specialty, "blackberry delight".
We started with Grace. We would ask if anyone would like to say something but it was usually left to me. We would all eat together and the spirit was convivial. After the meal we would ask everyone to "sing for their supper" even though they had already eaten. The talent we had there during the two weeks that I was serving was amazing. We had a group of Irish men whose singing blew us away and a group of German ladies who sang matins in the evening and then lauds in the morning. One young lady told us that she could not sing so she did a belly dance instead - she drew great applause! Every night was different. One night we had a lovely man turn up to entertain us with his singing and guitar playing and we included him in the meal. He had earned it.
After our meal it was all hands on deck and everything was cleared, washed, dried and put away in no time. If it was a clear night we would be outside marvelling at the sky with stars so thick you could not put a pin between them.
While working at San Antón was challenging at first, I was able to remind myself of my reason for being there. I also realised that serving as a hospitalera was another aspect of my pilgrimage and that I had to accept the lessons that I was being taught if I wanted to grow.
Life as a hospitalera at San Antón is full of love, hugs and appreciation. There are many special people who I will not forget and I look forward to serving there again. Hopefully many times.
Kristine, April 2016
