I met Mathias a day or so before Pamplona. He looked very strange with his dreadlocks, small rucksack and guitar. He almost had the homeless look about him, but he was young, perhaps mid-twenties.
I found out he was German, but had not lived there for several years. He had left, moving to Spain to work in a tourist resort, something that he ended up hating. So he became a hermit – that was the short story that I got, I am sure there was more.
He lived in a cave, coming down from the hills at the weekend, busking to make enough money to buy food. Then he went back to his hills and cave, preferring to be alone. I don’t know how he heard about the Camino de Santiago, however he though, like most of us, that this would be a long quiet walk across northern Spain, pilgrimage they called it, but walk or trek for the non-religious.
He met a girl, a Polish girl. It ruined his plans. His plan on the Camino was to walk for a few days then stop and busk, make enough money to carry on for a few days and work his way to Santiago doing this all down the Camino Francis. But he fell dead in love. We reached a town that he said he was going to stop at he didn’t, next morning he was off walking and talking with the Polish girl.
I don’t know how he survived. I last saw the two of them in Leon. I don’t know what the end of the story is. I know that he changed from someone who was determined to spend most of his time on his own, to someone who became part of a loose group that met every night for the two weeks or so that I knew him.
I had stood back and watch all this happen, an observer. But I could have been more involved. I wanted to see what would happen. Later I thought “why did I not give him some money?” He was poor and it was causing him problems, I could have easily, not a lot, but twenty or thirty Euros would not have made any difference to my life or time on the Camino de Santiago.
I hope he is well.