Spain Magazine - The UK's best guide to living in Spain

Pilgrim's Progress

The annual journey to one of Spain’s most sacred shrines is all about friends and fun and fuelled by unlimited supplies of wine and sherry.

It’s midday on a warm spring morning and the Spanish sun is sparkling off the waters of the Quema River as it runs south towards the marshes of the Doñana national park. The sound of wheels on a dirt track; moments later, a brightly-decorated wagon, decked out in flowers and multi-coloured sheets, trundles into view, drawn by a pair of frisky-looking mules.

The driver flicks his whip over the mules’ ears and they plunge into the water, to the sound of cheers and whoops from the back of the wagon. In its wake a couple of dozen men and women stride into the Quema - in reality little more than a stream - and, with a few splashes and shouts, reach the far bank.

The women, some holding babies and small children have, for the most part, kept their colourful flamenco dresses dry by hitching up the skirts; the men, dressed in wide-brimmed ‘bolero’ hats, short waistcoats, tight trousers and riding boots, disdain the water and trust the sun to dry them out.

The wagon pulls to a halt and women of all ages pile from under the cover, passing down pots, pans and provisions. Within minutes a fire is roaring alongside the river, water is bubbling in cauldrons supported by ancient iron stands and the smell of a cocido, or stew, fills the air.

Those excused cooking duty are stretched out on the bank or sitting around the fire passing jugs of wine, bottles of sherry and cans of beer back and forth while the children dash around the campsite, raising sprays of sand wherever they run.

Welcome to pilgrimage, Andalucian style. This is the trail which leads to the tiny settlement of El Rocío, deep in the Doñana park, a place where, for 51 weeks a year, you can stroll at will along the sandy streets.

But everything changes for Pentecost – or Whitsun, as we know it. This is when the whole of Spain turns its eyes to the far south-west of the country and the pilgrims make their way to the site where, almost 800 years ago, a stone image of the Virgin was found by a hunter.

The Virgen del Rocío (the Virgin of the Dew) apparently resisted all attempts to move her, so pious locals from the nearby town of Almonte enshrined her and El Rocío was founded.

Pilgrims, or romeros (so called because most pilgrimages were to Rome) have been paying their respects ever since, and for the last 200 years or so, members of almost 100 hermandades, or brotherhoods, have travelled from across Huelva and Seville provinces to venerate the Virgin – one of Spain’s most adored icons – at Pentecost.

Other groups come from further away – Cadiz, Cordoba, Granada, even Madrid. And there’s one hermandad which makes its way every year from abroad – well, from Gibraltar.

These brotherhoods all keep houses in a village which looks like the set of a spaghetti Western: Spanish colonial architecture, broad sand-covered streets and posts outside every bar for tying up horses.

Nowadays, up to a million pilgrims will make their way to El Rocío for the moment, on the Sunday night, when the Virgin is carried from the town’s church and paraded through the streets for hours in front of adoring crowds clamouring to touch the altarpiece on which the icon is mounted.

But all that is days in the future. For now, the emphasis is on the pilgrimage itself, and as much importance is attached to getting there as being there.

On foot, on horseback, in caravans and carts drawn by oxen or mules: these are the traditional methods of travel and until not so long ago, no motorised vehicles were permitted to take pilgrims into the park.

But with all those tractors across the region sitting idle things were bound to change, and nowadays the week before Pentecost sees slow-moving, mechanical beasts of burden choking the roads from Seville and Jerez de la Frontera.

The pilgrims have special dispensation to cross into the park using the ferry from Sanlucar de Barrameda, at the mouth of the Guadalquivir River. To reduce fire risks, the Spanish army polices the routes, cutting and piling timber for the campfires that bring a firefly glow to the evenings leading up to the weekend.

The Quema may be quiet early in the week, but by Thursday morning, hundreds of walkers, animals and vehicles will be heading this way every hour.

Progress is, at best, stately. The many stops are dictated by the need for meals and liquid refreshment and the sense is of a never-ending party as friends break free from their normal routine to trek through pine forests, across sand dunes and along marshy tracks.

Once they reach El Rocío, the pace becomes more frenetic and – Heaven forbid – it’s even been known for a little religious fervour to assert itself.

Still, that can all be sorted out on the return journey.

When

This year’s pilgrimage week runs from Tuesday, May 22 to Monday, May 28

Where

El Rocío is best reached by road from Seville. Take the A49-E01 Huelva motorway from the city and turn off at km48 for Almonte (A483). El Rocío is 15km further south.

How

Access to the area is restricted during the fiesta, though it’s easy enough to attach yourself to a hermandad – just turn up with a sleeping bag and ask if you can tag along. There are restaurants and bars in El Rocío but it’s advisable to take food and drink – water as well as something more fortifying.

< Prev		Next >