Camino del Norte Day 35: Rest Day in Abadín
May 24, 2025 | Rest day
Morning coffee in the window nook
Albergue O’Xistral
Selah
With only my travel purse and my phone, I wandered back up the Camino the way I had come. I had no other agenda than to spend time with God and maybe paint something. I passed a few pilgrims coming down the trail who informed me I was going the wrong way. Some of them I knew; others I did not. Either way, I appreciated their concern. As soon as the path split, I veered off the Camino and onto backroads and quiet country trails I had scouted out yesterday.
Walking through a cathedral of trees
Selah
A place to be
Mystery Music
Painting to the Rhythm
Meeting Julius
As I was sitting beside the trail painting, another young pilgrim came along.
“¡Hola!” he said in a German accent. “Do you know where the music is coming from?”
“I have looked and looked, but I finally concluded that it must coming from the trees themselves,” I said.
His merry eyes danced.
“You’re painting,” he said, noticing the palette and drying watercolor painting beside me.
“Yes, I stop and paint whenever I can. To appreciate the view.”
“Are you hiking the Camino?” he asked in surprise.
I had forgotten that I was now in civilian wear.
“Yes, but today is my rest day,” I said.
We chatted for a few minutes more, and then he was off.
“¡Venga!” he called to the band, wherever it was.
Legless lizard
On the walk back, I found a legless lizard (above), spoke to my friends the horses again, and made it back to the albergue well before dinnertime.
My friends the horses
The table prepared for dinner at Albergue O’Xistral
This evening, the host prepared a wonderful dinner for us. I ate with a Spaniard, Italian, and a German, but English was still the common language.
The upstairs bunks at Albergue O’Xistral
Ultreia
After dinner Julius and I played a game of chess at a picnic table outside. I lost, badly, but it was a fun way to spend the cool evening hours.
“There is no hope for you in this game,” said Julius sadly. “But I know a hopeful song about the Camino. I will sing it for you to give you hope. It is called Ultreïa.”
In a quiet, fair voice, Julius began to sing. The song was in French and Latin, but some part of it touched me to the very heart. The haunting, minor melody carried something indescribable that has stayed with me since then.
“Tous les matins nous prenons le chemin,
Tous les matins nous allons plus loin.
Jour après jour, St Jacques nous appelle,
C’est la voix de Compostelle.
Ultreïa! Ultreïa! E sus eia Deus adjuva nos!”
When he stopped singing, there was silence as the first stars began to appear in the sky.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“I’m not sure; it’s in French. But it basically it means, ‘Onwards, keep going.’”
I later learned that the song “Ultreïa” is a French pilgrimage chant that comes from the Latin words “Ultreia et Susia,” meaning “onward and upward” or “let’s go further.” The term is found in the 12th-century Codex Calixtinus, an ancient guide to the Camino de Santiago. The word ultreia comes from the Latin words ultra (beyond) and eia (go). When two pilgrims met, one would say “Ultreia,” (onward) and the other would say “et Susia” (higher). The term can be used as a greeting and encouragement among pilgrims, a symbol of physical and spiritual perseverance, and a joyful exclamation, akin “Hallelujah,” upon reaching Santiago.
