Camino Odyssey Part 1...

Well, here I am in Santiago otra vez and what a week it has been. I should really have been blogging as things have happened but that hasn't been possible so here is a condensed version.

I couldn't shake off that nervous feeling when I left Marbella on the 6th, but as I moved north (and west) all that seemed to change despite the horrendous accident I witnessed involving a drunk driver (at 11:30 in the morning!) only a few kms inside the Portuguese "border". It served to remind me to drive very carefully.

I arrived late at Fernanda's pilgrim refuge on the Camino Portuguese, but that didn't matter. Within minutes I had a plate of good home cooked food in front of me and I was back with my Portuguese family once again. It was as though I had never left.

I have written extensively about Fernanda, Jacinto and their daughter Mariana, but it bears repeating: this woman opens her doors to all pilgrims and for every single one she treats them as though they are not only the first pilgrims to climb her steps but the most important guests ever to grace her table. This time I met also with Dominique from Belgium and the next day, Julianne from Australia arrived and between us all we shared pilgrim stories.

Soon we were joined by Benny from Denmark, and shy Horst from Germany. At dinner, Benny was aggressively cornering Dominque (rather dogmatically in my opinion) about her inability to speak Flemish. Dominique defended herself as best she could, and I added that perhaps for her it was less important than for Benny who felt that one should consider oneself a failure if one didn't speak five languages as he claimed to do. I would have traded her smile for his smugness any day.

It was the night of the football match between Germany and Spain, and to everyone's surprise, the Spanish "selecion" won the game. Horst who was sitting beside me throughout was most gracious in defeat. Perhaps for a pilgrim who had walked from his house it was not so important after all. I who hadn't walked here was, however, absolutely thrilled for Spain. Next day, I was reluctant to leave but I know that I always have a place in the heart of mi familia Portuguese.

The following day I drove directly (finally breaking down and using the toll roads) to Galicia. Along the way I stopped at several pilgrim albergues that would not open until five o'clock, leaving many tired pilgrims outside the doors in the 35 degree heat. I cannot figure this out. In Galicia these albergues are run by "paid workers" unlike most others elsewhere which invite volunteer hospitaleros from all over the world. The latter are open at reasonable hours: that is the sort of time one would expect to arrive when one has woken up before the sun rises and arrived after 25 - 35 kilometers in the Spanish heat hoping for a shower of any temperature and a bunk to bunk in. I don't understand the pedantic nature of the Gallego system.

In Tui I again met Maria Teresa who runs the hospice there. She repeated (as last year) that she had to be the most unpopular hospitalera in all of Galicia because she sticks by the rules: Foot pilgrims first, bicycle pilgrims later, and if you have arrived by bus intending to start the Camino Portuguese at the border of Galicia and Portugal, well, you are gonna have to wait. She said that she appears to be on the hit list of a German Forum and one pilgrim arived to find out if she was really as bad as she was painted! Left bookmarks, my sympathies and good wishes and continued on...

to Muxia. I had intended to walk from Santiago to Finisterre, finishing my Camino in Muxia this year - the last stages of 10 years of journey - but two cracked ribs this year have made that impossible. I stopped at a little shop to ask about rooms for rent and was subsequenjtly met by Begona (there appear to be a lot of Begonas in my life right now. My editor is one, and my publicist is another).

The room was small with shared bath but homely (so many little ornaments and lace tablecloths that I had no room to put anything down on tables!)and had a traditional glassed-in balcony overlooking the street, though not the sea unfortunately as we were one street in. Never mind. After 1200 kilometers I slept like a baby.

More tomorrow.
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Trubble at 'mill...

The trouble is we don't know whether Alfonso VI - the about to be ex-king - had suggested, sanctioned, or commanded the move. However, what was proposed was that Alfonso I of Aragon was marriage material for the unfortunate Urraca, who clearly had no say in the matter. She may not have liked it. We aren't advised one way or the other. She was a 12th century woman, princess or not. 12th century women did as they were told.

Urraca was told to marry or.., and the "union" took place.

The church certainly didn't like it. Urraca and Alfonso of Aragon were distantly related: they shared the same great-grandfather. (Look back at earlier posts if you are really interested but I am assuming you are not, so...)

The whole enterprise was on shaky ground from the first.

In 1109, Alfonso VI, by now the somewhat ineffectual monarch, died.

This left the question as to what role his new son-in-law (had Alfonso VI lived to comment - this is getting complicated...) would play. Was The Battler to be "King Consort" to Urraca's Queen?

Once again we don't know. What does become clear, and very quickly, is that Alfonso of Aragon wasn't likely to play second fiddle to anyone, least of all a "defenseless" woman. The succession was rushed through in the same hurry that the Aragonese marriage had been conceived.

In the end it raised far more problems than it solved.

Queen Urraca wasn't the pushover everyone expected and before long everyone would know it...

...including Bishop Diego Gelmirez in Santiago de Compostela who was having problems of his own.
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The Boy who would be King?

Alfonso VI, king of Leon and Castilla, was growing old, and there was still no successor to the throne. Garcia, his youngest brother had died in prison in 1090 and his other brother, Sancho, was ancient history. His only legitimate child, with Constance of Burgundy, was the Infanta Urraca who as we have seen was married to Constance's relative Raimundo. He certainly would have had his eye on the throne.

Alfonso also had two illegitimate daughters, Teresa and Jimena, both by his mistress Jimena Muñoz. Teresa had married Raimundo's cousin, Henry of Burgundy who was recognised as "Count of Portugal" and the French contingent was well established. With them had come the influence of the Abbey of Cluny. But there was still no son to succeed Alfonso. Queens were not considered a viable option.

Raimundo's expectations were not without foundation. Alfonso had more or less promised him the kingship of Leon and Castilla with his bethrothal to the young Infanta. In fact, the Historia Compostelana - partisan as always - has the following to say:

"King Alfonso had caused him to come from Burgundy to Spain and had promised him all of his kingdom with a sworn oath."

Urraca had been so young at her marriage that there was no question here of a love match. The union was purely political.

Way back in 1091 - while Diego Gelmirez could only dream of greatness; and you can be sure he was - the city of Córdoba had fallen to the might of the conquering Moorish forces of the Almoravides. The widow of the governor, Zaida, took refuge first in Sevilla, but presumably didn't feel safe with her own people. She fled north and took refuge at the court of Alfonso. We learn that "her beauty and her plight softened the heart of the king, Alfonso", and we cannot discount that the promise of certain fortresses at the southern region of his kingdom would have also moved him in a more practical way. What is certain is that the elderly Alfonso's other southern regions were far from softened because in 1093, she gave birth to a son. He was called "Sancho".

This development changed everything. Sancho became the beloved of Alfonso's old eyes. The young prince was even given Toledo, now the capital in terms of centricity and power; and perhaps even more importantly, it was the site of the treasury.

This, not surprisingly put Count Raimundo's aristocratic nose more than a little out of joint!

Raimundo resented Alfonso's ambitions and Sancho's claims and he turned for assistance to the House of Cluny and in particular, Hugh, its very influential abbot.

Now having established such a firm hold in northern Spain, Cluny was not about to give it up to the fruits of a questionable Moorish liaison. The expansion of the Almoravide influence had cut off a good part of the kingdom's wealth and no longer could the king rely on the "Taifas": the tribute from the Moorish rulers of ther various disputed territories which before had been paid directly to the king.

Coffers which had previously subsidised the building of the vast Abbey of Cluny in France were now drying up and the Cluniac bishop must have had his concerns. What would become of his ambitious building programme? What would happen to the kingdom of Leon and Castille after Alfonso died? Would he partition his kingdom between Sancho, Raimundo and Henry of Portugal? Political instability would have meant disaster. Hugh was forced to take sides. Not surprisingly he went with the French contingent.

Raimundo had to do something to reclaim what he considered his "inheritance". Remember in these days women had little to say and Urraca would have been subject to Raimundo's - and naturally her father's - influence.

A secret agreement was made between the Burgundian cousins, Raimundo and Henry. A letter was sent to Hugh of Cluny which said that in gratitude of Henry's support for Raimundo, Henry would receive Portugal AND a share of the treasury of Toledo (remember - Sancho had been given this by his father). Raimundo in this way was clearly buying Henry off. No need to encourage more claimants than was necessary - cooperation was the best policy and allies were the best friends.

By 1107 - by which time Sancho was but 14 - it was very clear to all that he was Alfonso's heir.

But in the interim, Urraca had done something to gain the upper hand that was all women could do in those days: in the castle at Caldas del Rey in Galicia she gave birth to a son. His name was Alfonso. There was now a clear legitimate heir to the throne of Leon and Castille.

Whether Alfonso VI and Sancho liked it, or not, because of a male child clearly directly in the line of succession, things had become much more complicated than before!

What now?
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