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  • Writer's pictureWill Piferrer

12. Stones of Sorrow

Updated: Apr 21, 2023

Where most cities rise up in the distance to meet you, you have to look down to find the town of Portomarin as you approach. The first stage out of Sarria is a 25km walk over 7 to 8 hours, mostly uphill, until you reach the valley that houses this beautiful medieval town. The city center is full of newish cafes and chic apartments, neatly sitting in the foreground against old fortress ruins and brick facades. I booked a bunk in a private hostel to avoid competition for a bed on a bad knee, and I walked in to find it nearly completely empty, with only 3 other occupants. We spread out our belongings, and we enjoyed a few peaceful hours with the windows open and the usual hospital-grade lights turned off. Exhausted from the day's walk, I dozed off for about an hour or so before waking up and realizing it was time to head down to the cathedral for the evening pilgrim's service.


The Church of San Juan of Portomarin is an singular, imposing structure, moved to its current location from the old town of Portomarin brick by brick in the 1960's when the Miño River was dammed to create a new reservoir. It exists as a temple-fortress of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, more commonly known as the Knights of St. John, or the Knights Hospitalier. The Knights of St. John incidentally, have a fantastic history worth an in depth read if you're curious. They were founded in 1099 during the crusades, and they're still around today as the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, maintaining diplomatic relations with 107 nations, despite having no formal nation-state boundaries.


The Romanesque temple was originally constructed as a protective effort of the order to protect pilgrims on the Camino traveling to the tomb of St. James the Apostle. Trying to find your way inside is a bit difficult, with a large and heavy wooden door granting access through the center of the right side of the building. I wandered in and sat near the front, and quietly waited for the service to begin. It had been years since I'd been to a Catholic mass, and the Spaniards, well, they do the church thing pretty well. There was that whole Reconquista and inquisition stuff, but I digress.


The service was beautiful, accentuated by the way the sound and the light carried through the old Roman walls. The highlight of the evening came when pilgrims on their way to Santiago were asked to come forward, state their names and countries of origin, and their intentions for the Camino. We came from all continents, and we spoke in all languages - a heartwarming reminder that despite the miles between us, there's something in all of us that seeks a greater meaning, a greater purpose. The service ended with a prayer for protection and a solemn dismissal that saw everyone file back through the heavy door on the side of the church, which closed with a loud thud behind us.



 

Solemnity is in plentiful supply along the Camino. One need look no further than the markers that indicate the direction of the path, and the remaining distance to Santiago de Compostela, to find indications of the wounds people have come here to heal. Stones of Sorrow, they're called, are placed atop these markers as part of a long-held tradition of shedding one's grief and burdens along The Way. Pilgrims will pick up a stone, or bring one from home and pray, placing their burdens in the stone, and carry them along the Camino until they are free from the burden or sadness the burden imposes. When they're ready, they leave their stones on the markers, and walk on. The heavier the stone, the heavier the burden, and some of the markers are makeshift works of art. No one is allowed to bear their burdens alone, so tradition holds that pilgrims who see a solitary stone atop a marker should stop, pray, and add a stone to accompany those that sit in solitude atop the monuments.


I brought a stone with me from our home in Kyle, and I had intended to leave it at the Cruz de Ferro in Foncebadon, before I had to re-draw my walking plans to account for my knee injury. Waiting for the right moment to place my own stone atop the monuments as I approached my goal, the moment struck, and I said a prayer for my family 20km from Santiago, as the day came to an end.



 

I wrote about symbols a week ago, and they are no less present or powerful a full two weeks into the journey, than they were at the beginning. We each carry our own burdens, and we carry them differently. Here, symbolically, pilgrims from all over the world, in different languages and of different creeds, are laying down their burdens and leaning on one another for support and fellowship as they walk ahead towards the end of the Camino. Seeing these markers, covered in stones for kilometers on end, made me stop and reflect, and reflect upon my own burdens. The quiet and contemplative walk gave me the time I needed to figure out how to lay them down and move forward in a productive and healthy way.


What are you holding onto? Find a place to lay down your stone, and let your spirit soar.


Will




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