“There is a contemplative in every one of us nearly extinguished by the noise of the day but still holding on in hope of relief...aching to touch the sacred silence that makes us whole.”
Dear HS Friends,
It is not Thanksgiving in Spain, but it is always good to be Thankful. We found all of these things on the trail today. Can you figure out what everything is? Sincerely, Flat S The ebb and flow of the Camino often switches up your Pilgrim group. You will walk with one group for a while and then they either fall back or move forward and along comes a new set of fellow travellers. One German fellow calls these our “five minute friends”. Because the travel is difficult and the Albergues are tight you quickly develop an odd sort of intimacy. In real life how many people would say to a virtual stranger, “Can I borrow your scissors to cut the dead skin off of my feet?” (Actually overheard this!)
Our current group is a lot of fun: us, two UK rugby enthusiasts (who give your Dad a hard time re Arsenal), a couple from New Orleans that ooze Southern hospitality, and a single woman walker from Nova Scotia the knows everyone’s name. Last night we stayed in a tiny town with no restaurant and a mid-sized convenience store. Fortunately your Dad had olives, rice, and tomatoes—New Orleans had a giant chocolate bar and roasted peppers—your Uncle had a jar of jam, orange juice and Cola Cao—Rugby knew where to find a corkscrew—and Nova Scotia was easily talked into ice cream from the convenience store. We feasted both dinner and breakfast. After breakfast we began with a step ascent. I thought I was the only one struggling until I reached the top. My five minute friends were there! They were ready for a rest too and had already found a bar serving coffee looking over the valley. So with the local sheep dog at our feet and two chickens and a rooster circling the table we began a challenging day together. We walked up and down (although more down than up) on acorns, chestnuts, and cow poop. Sweet chestnuts are abundant in Galacia. Although the magostas (chestnut roasting festivals) aren’t until November they are already tumbling from the trees. Many times today what we thought were falling leaves turned out to be a narrow miss with a chestnut dropping to the path. Loving the bit cooler temperatures. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. With the exception of the full moon we were in almost complete darkness. We knew the day promised to be strenuous so we started earlier than usual. The first five kilometres were deceptively cool and the descent gradual. Then we happened on Pilgrims hiring horses to take them up to O'Cebreiro. For future reference, if Pilgrims consider an ascent by horse or mule the hike is likely to be a challenge.
So, we shared the paths with other pilgrims, horses, farm equipment and herds of cattle. One foot in front of the other over and over and over again. It was after two before we reached the highest point at 1364 m. Another hour through the mountains before our Albergue. The view points were spectacular. One pilgrim, about my age, was asked if she was enjoying it. I loved her answer, "Enjoy is the wrong word...I feel on the verge of tears with every step...but I still feel so incredibly happy". The day didn't turn out quite as glorious for a couple of Pilgrims. At least two Pilgrims were removed from the hill by ambulance--one on IV for dehydration. The Pilgrim pipeline says they are doing fine. When I was wondering if I was crazy to be attempting this today I was reminded of a pilgrim story from a couple of days ago: • In 2016 Michael Curator was sixteen years old. He was from Wales. How exciting to be on a school cycling pilgrimage with twenty of his mates. They were averaging 80+ km a day. Near the end of the trip Michael collapsed. To the shock of his parents and community he didn't make it. If that were the end of the message we would only have tragedy. However, his memorial stone erected in the Irago Mountains sends only encouragement to live fully: "The boat is safer anchored at the port, but that is not the aim of boats" We are in Galicia now. Celtic music, thatched roofs, and a bit of a different dialect. Of course we haven't mastered "regular" Spanish yet; so it probably doesn't make that much difference. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. The morning was cool breezes, vineyards, mountains, our fine feathered friends calling out there greetings from the side of the road, and cafe con leche in the shade of yet another castle. The afternoon was intensely hot, roadside paved trails, cement barriers, and lunch beneath the shade of a highway overpass. It was definitely all a grand adventure. A few of my Pilgrim friends having been having some adventures of their own:
• As soon as she speaks you know she is 100% Newfoundlander. After two weeks her daughter went home to The Rock. She wanted to go with her--she wasn't sure she could do this on her own. Frankly, she is killing it! Meet her once she is your friend forever. A couple of days ago she decided she wanted to change her hair to match her new confidence. She walked into a random small town salon, pointed to a colour, and said "Go For It!" She looks fabulous. She thinks she sent a picture to her daughter, but admits technology is not quite her thing either--she thinks it might still be sending😄 She even ventured on to booking.com. Turned out she booked 7km away instead of 17km. When we left her she had found a cafe that sold toast, eggs, bacon, and fresh orange juice. "May as well enjoy my day--after all I only have to walk 7 km", she said with a huge smile on her face. You Go Girl! • Paige is a young American. She walks fast. She leaves early. So early that is was still dark when two Germans and a South African spy her passport on the trail. The Camino has a pipeline. When there is a problem we pass the message up the trail. We all take a picture of the passport-finders. Are you Paige? Do you know Paige? Tell Paige these people have her passport. Someone passes the info to a young Brazilian with fresh and fast legs--he knows Paige. He catches her 7 km later in VillaFranca. Paige hadn't yet realized her loss. We see them up ahead. The heroes arrive just behind us. Paige and Passport are reunited--a happy ending. Big "hill" tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. We arrived at Castillo de los Templarios just as it opened. Three pilgrims in a Templar castle which covers approximately 16,000 square meters. What a hoot--up the spiral stairs of the turrets--across the bridges--peeking through the artillery windows--climbing the walls--checking out the catapult. I have decided that you are never to old to let your imagination run wild in a gigantic castle. Then of course more walking....
I apologize in advance that my pilgrim story for today will be a bit of a rant. I have been holding this one in for a couple of days and just need to get it out. Ironically, I want to address pilgrim-judging and in doing so am about to judge another pilgrim😕 He is from South Africa. He is retired. He spends considerable time showing our Belgium host pictures on his iPhone of basically what her white-privilege could buy her in South Africa. Then he starts in on his fellow pilgrims. His friend/partner volunteers for the confraternity of St James in Santiago. "Boy, I could tell you stories", he says. REAL Pilgrims don't use bag transport. REAL Pilgrims don't use public transportation. REAL Pilgrims only stay in Pilgrim hostels. I sat quietly, and a bit guilty, as he outlined the Pilgrim "sins", but after a few days of churning about this I would like to add my own Rule--REAL Pilgrims don't judge other Pilgrims. I've now walked every step of over 600km, but if for some reason one foot couldn't place itself in front of the other--I would take a bus. Also, this REAL Pilgrim stayed in a B&B the other night--that's right--with my own bathroom and towels. Oh, and after four days of being on electrolytes and pro-biotics I shipped my bag today in the 31C heat! Oh, oh, ....that's not even the first time...that is the fifth time I've had to ship my bag. I can't be a REFLECTIVE and HEALTHY Pilgrim if Im being a DUMB Pilgrim. Everyone has a story--we need to be willing to listen.....judgement free. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom (REAL Pilgrim). Last night we had probably the best pilgrim's dinner yet. Great vegetarian paella and delightful company. Our group of six had Canadians (us), a Spanish brother and sister, a German and a Brazilian. We all had one thing in common (besides the Camino)--we had all seen Tina Turner live in concert! On a more serious note our discussion did turn to the Cruz de Ferro as we knew we would be visiting early today. Our German friend has walked the Camino many times before. She says she brings many stones and drops them along the way for people who have "done wrong to her". I asked if she forgives them when she drops the stones. "Some--not yet---some stones I have dropped many times already". For her forgiveness is a process. I carried a crystal and two pebbles to the cross. Here is the story of my stones:
Your Dad adjusts his headlamp as we leave the Albergue. It is early--before dawn--the sun rises as we walk. When we approach the hill there is still a tinge of pink on the horizon, but the sun has fully lit the sky. It is surprisingly simple--a wooden pole with an iron cross placed at the very top. I climb the pile of rocks carrying my stones. First the crystal. A friend, and mentor, gifted this to me the first month of my principalship. It was a good role for me, but a role I found harsh. It is my fourth year of retirement and I when I look back I can still feel the stresses. Today I leave this stone forever at the bottom of the cross. I will not pick it up again. I promise to spend my life living fully. Today and Tomorrow--not yesterdays. The second are my Phil and Bernie pebbles. I wedge them right into a crack in the wood of the base. Your struggles are great, but you are strong--I want you completely covered in the cross. These tiny rocks come from the abandoned well at Lakelet. We missed the Corps gathering this year as we were already on The Way. I take this moment to pray for our Church family. You have seen so much grief. There is no power in the Cruz de Ferro, but I believe there is power in the intention of our heart. I missed my stones as I walked away. My pocket felt empty without them. There was a temptation to run back up the hill and take those stones back under my control. So like human nature. I left them there. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. |
Details
Ray & Diane HomewoodSharing the Blessing of Travel Archives
January 2018
Categories |