fr. daly's camino diary
TRANSCRIPT
Camino Diary
September 13 – November 6, 2016
Father Peter Daly
September 13 at 3:03am · At Dulles airport off to France and Spain. Pray I can make it. Tore the
ligaments in my right knee. Painful to walk but I ' m off. Love to all.
Peter
September 14 at 9:17pm · Valcarlos, Spain ·
Arrived in France yesterday after a very nice but long trip on Air
France --- Washington, Paris, and finally to Biarritz, the sea side
resort that Gigi and other wealthy Parisian used to summer in. Lots of
beautiful people on the bus from Biarritz airport to the train station in
Bayonne. At the train station began to see many
pilgrims for the Camino as we waited for the train to St Jean pied Port
(St John at the foot of the door--- to Spain.
We had to walk about a mile from the train station to the pilgrim
office and then to the albergue (hostile) were we slept on ink beds.
The 2 mile walk almost killed me because of my 25 lb pack. I threw
away or gave away about 5 lbs.
Today we walked about 8 miles up hill along a road from St Jean to a
place called Valcarlos. It is not the main route but easier walking. My
right leg is killing me with torn ligaments I got from tripping over my
cat Russel. Marty is still recovering From a broken ankle. We are
quite the crippled old men. Marty is much faster.
Now we are at Valcarlos were Charlemagne's army was slaughtered
be the locals who were angry at him for attacking nearbyPamplona.
The are still prickly bunch --- all Basques. I was wearing my
"Espana" baseball cap that Joe Garcia gave me. I stopped to buy
water. The shop owner told me I should not wear the cap because the Royal crest was a symbol of thefascist
government of Franco. Picky picking.Tomorrow I wear my Santa Fe cap.
I sent me pack on ahead by taxi. No way I could carry it up the mountains. Marty carried his pack for
remission of his sins. (Very Spanish). I am now completely exhausted.
Tomorrow a much tougher climb through spectacular sceneryloke the photo below.
I am main lining Aleve and Tylenol.Poor Russell, he didn't mean it.
I'm praying more here and cursing more here as the cars almost run us off the road.
September 16 at 9:35pm · Erro, Spain ·at La Posada Nueva.
This was a really tough day. My knee and right leg are killing me.
Thank God for the brace Dr Cirrillo gave me. Also thank God for the
hiking poles Dr Brooks gave me.
Once today I nearly fell trying to navigate some awkward and uneven
steps on the Camino. I twisted my leg and let out a huge tell that
frightened the other pilgrims.
People keep passing me and saying words of encouragement. I am
clearly the slowest man on the Camino. One nice Italian boy offered
me some Tylenol. Another young man from Syracusa in Sicilian said
to me in Italian "I have great respect for you a handicapped old man
doing the Camino." I told him I am doing it for my sins.
This is an International group. We have met people from most
countries in Western Europe, especially the Dutch, Irish, Germans and
Italians. We have also met plenty of Canadians, Americans,
Columbians, and Mexicans.
Even a few from China and Japan and Australia.
Mostly it is young people between jobs or school and retirees. You
cannot be poor and do the Camino because you need 45 to 60 days.
Yesterday we hiked about 15 or 16 miles uphill all the way except for
the last 1/2 mile which was steep downhill. Poor Marty, my high school
classmate had to keep waiting for me. He walks ahead and I catch up.
We walked fro Valcarlos to Roncesvalles on the route that
Charlemagne took when retreating from Spain. In the mountains all
around St John Vianney hid out for two years when he deserted from
Napoleon's army.
Our walk was uphill from about 200 meters to about 1050 meters, a
climb of 2600 feet. It was freezing cold at the top.
Each day I am sending my big pack, over 20 lbs ahead on a baggage
van. Only 6 or 7 Euros, worth every penny.
Roncesvalles has a huge hostile in an old monastery. About 200 people
start the Camino from there each day, mostly Spanish. I as the slowest
one.
We went to mass in the old abbey church, crowded with pilgrims. They
blessed us at the end of mass and then we all sang the Salve Regina in
Latin, just as pilgrims did 1000 years ago. I was overcome with
emotion thinking of the long line of spiritual pilgrims.
Today we passed Burgete, where Hemingway used to come to hunt and
fish from 1923 to 1959.
Tonight we are in a tiny town of 800 people called Viscarreta. We
stopped in a nice Casa Rural, bed and breakfast with some Dutch and
Canadian pilgrims.
Tomorrow onward toward Pamplona.
If you are pledging for this walk we have walked about 31 miles. Me
limping and Marty powering on like a Navy black shoe. He carries
water but doesn't drink it. He has walking poles but doesn't use them.
He won't send his bag in a van. He is hard as they come at age 66.
If you are in the parish, tell Mike to get on Facebook so she can
download some of this either parish. Maybe they could put up a map of
Spain.
Maureen, if you read this maybe you could share it with mom.
Love to all.
Peter
September 18 at 4:02pm · Pamplona, Spain ·
The big adventure of the day was that I saved a drowning cat.
On the fourth leg of the Camino we were walking from a small town,
Larrasoana (pop 800) to a big city Pamplona ( pop 250,000+) (where they
run the Bulls through the streets in July). The walk was 15 miles +- mostly
along the banks of the river Arga.
About a mile out side of Larrasoana I was limping along all by myself.
(Everyone is faster than me.)
I heard two little kittens meowing at the top of their lungs on the opposite side
of the fast flowing river. One was an orange tabby, the other Calico.
They were both dangerously close the water so I called out to the ( in Italian
because I assume all cats speak Italian after my years in Rome.) I told them to
go home.
But one little kitty went way out on a branch by the water and fell into the fast
water. It swam very well leaving its sibling crying out. But when she reached
my side of the river she couldn't climb the steep bank. She grabbed onto a root
or branch and would have been swept away.
I slid down the bank on my butt and used Dr Brooks walking stick to lasso the
kitten in the handle strap. I got her head and front legs and lifted her out of the river.
She was shivering cold and nearly dead. I put her in the fisherman's sun hat my sister Dee gave me and held
her close to me for warmth.
Some passing Swedish pilgrim ladies stopped (4 or 5) and fussed over the
kitty. Nobody knew what to do. The brother was one the other side crying. We
had no where to take the kitty.
One lady said "Let's pray and the leave her. She will find her way home."
They folded their hands and bowed their heads and said a prayer in Swedish,
of which I only understood one word -- amen.
Then I put the little cat down. We were all upset. The leader of the prayer said
"Don't look back because it will follow." The walked on. I limped after on my
sticks.
About 300 or 400 meters I came to a bridge over the river. The was a snack
bar by the river were Marty was waiting doing his emails on the WIFI. I
bought breakfast.
There was a little commotion outside in the patio. I went out to see the little
kitty. She had followed me. Soon her brother showed up. I guess the
communicated by meow. I went inside and bought milk and put it down for
them. They were ok for now.
When I hobbled on the were sitting on the sun, contented kitties. We called
the tabby "Santiago" and the calico "Camino."
Marty said, "I didn't know I'd be walking the Camino with St Francis.
The rest of the day was pure hell -- the Battan death march. Up and down
hills, in mud, rocks, brambles. I fell once.
Marty walked ahead and waited for me two hours. He fell asleep and I
passed him by. We eventually met up at the hotel--- totally spent. We are the
1 nights in Pamplona at the Hotel Castillo de Javier, near the main square
were Hemingway hung out and wrote The Sun Also Rises."
To bed now.
I am grateful for all your prayers. Ian also grateful to Eduardo Braham for the rain jacket he lent me. Grateful
to Dr Weigel for his advice on icing the leg. Grateful again to Dr Brooks for his pole that saved the cat and
me sister Dee for the hat for the cat on the hat.
Marty said today was enough to make a Navy black shoe quit.
But like we say in Cursillo --- Ultreia. (Onward).
Photos below.
September 20
Leaving Pamplona. I could easily retire here. Beautiful medieval
town, great views, wonderful restaurants, and a beautiful university.
What's not to like?
The walk into Pamplona was totally exhausting. Marty waited for me
on a park bench near town. He fell asleep on the bench and I trudged
right on by. So he waited, figuring I was still in via. We get to our
little hotel at the same time. Completely spent, like everyday.
To all the Cursillistas we saw a tribute to the founder... of Cursillo in
the Cathedral in Pamplona. Evidently he was from Pamplona.
So far we have hiked 87 KM. ONLY 700 to go! About the distance
from Prince Frederick to Cleveland OH. Tell Jim Gerber that the
next time he goes home he should walk.
We walked from Pamplona to a tiny little place called Uterga.We
had to hike up a mountain (700 meters ascent) to the Alto del Perdon
( Mt of Pardon) In the Middle Ages people hiked it to have their sins
forgiven. WAY easier to go to confession.
Each day I am asking pardon for my sins as I walk. So far I have
done:
Anger
Pride
Lust
Greed
Gluttony
I don't think I will run out of sins.
Met lots of interesting people.
Dimittri, an Iron and steel worker from Siberia and Bremer Haven in
Germany. He is bigger than Alex Stack (6'5") and strong as a bull. He
wants a new job.
Hiyahito, a 19 yr old college student from Kyoto Japan. Hiking for
fun.
Elizabeth from Hungary and Ohio who is walking the Camino a
second time.
Alessio from Rome who also has s bad knee. He is bored with his job
as a software programmer and is hiking to find out what else God
wants of him.
Lots more to tell but Marty wants lights out. Aye aye Captain! All
lights out!
September 22
Video 9-22-16
September 29
I am a mess. Until recently my right leg was a problem with its torn
ligaments. But now, after more than 100 miles of strenuous walking
that seems to be healed.
Now my left leg has given out.
We started out walking two days ago in Ventosa where we had stayed
in the most elegant place we been to yet.
(Marty has decreed that he is no longer a midshipman and does not
want to sleep on bunk bed in dorms with a dozen strangers and use the
communal bathroom. So far we have been only 50% successful with his
resolution. One night we slept on the floor at a hostel. The fancy place
was ok but anything would have been fine. )
Anyway we left Ventoza to walk to Azofra about 12 miles through
endless vineyards in rural Rioja province (the wine province of Spain.)
The morning was ok. I fell behind Marty as per usual. Everybody
passes me. My experience of the Camino is mostly silence. I sing
church hymns when alone. I always sing the servant song with the second
verse, "We are pilgrims on a journey, we are travelers on the road, we are
here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load."
We got to Najera were the knight Roland killed the Syrian giant. A lot of
the history of Rioja seems to center around the expulsion of the Moors
(i.e. Muslims). That is why there is so much tension and graffiti about
immigrants from Muslim countries.
After we left Najera and the monastery of Santa Maria Real, I was
limping badly.
I descended a long hill into endless vineyards of ripe purple grapes.
The pain in my left knee was now compounded by clouds of flies that
swarmed around me. I did a St. Vitus dance trying to wave them away.
Useless.
Just before I reached Azofra I was going crazy with flies and pain. I had a
fantasy that I saw my high school pal Charlie Connor, in his Cadillac DTS
stopping to give me a ride. Actually it was only a farmer in a tiny Opel.
Buen Camino.
Finally in the tiny town of Azofra (pop 500), I went into a the only
Farmacia.
I tried explaining to the pharmacist what was wrong with my knee. I
pointed to a life size cardboard cut out display of Rafael Nadal, the
Spanish tennis star, who was advertising Mueller knee and elbow braces. I
already had the knee brace but I wanted to show her what was wrong with
me. She sold me a tube of anti inflammatory cream. I sat down on a bench
in the store to put it in my bag.
I struggled to stand up from the bench and as I started to limp out of the
store I collapsed right in front of cardboard Rafael Nadal, who seemed
unmoved. The parmacist ran out from behind her counter to help me. She
announced that she would drive me the 2 blocks to the hostile. "You
don't walk tomorrow," she said. "Descanse."
She drove me about two blocks to the Albergue. People helped me in and
up to the 2 my floor where Marty had already showered and was lying on
his bunk. He said, "hello shipmate, We have to decide about dinner." I
just collapsed on my bunk. Not now.
The albergue in Azofra was pretty basic. Common showers, tiny cubicles
etc. we struggled over to the local cafe for dinner. I sat outside and put
salve on my knees.
I've discovered that when you are sick on the Camino, everybody thinks
they are a Doctor. People came by and told me how to hold the ice, where
to put it, etc.
Next day I shuffled over to the public health clinic in town.Dr was late so
we passed the time chatting with old ladies in the waiting room.
The doctor arrived 40 min late. When he came in I hardly could get out of
the chair. First thing he did was demand my health card. We explained
we were Americans. I showed him my knee. He gave me a prescription
for another cream., and said, "No walking for two days."
We could not stay there in Azofra. The hostile puts you out after one
night. So I took a bus to Santo Domingo de Calzada, the next big town. I
fell asleep in the bus but Santo Domingo was the end of the line. Marty
walked the 17 km (10 miles) into town.
So I violated my pledge to walk all the way. Those of you sponsoring me
by the mile for the food pantry you get to take 10 miles off your pledge.
There is one advantage to being the slowest person on the Camino. --- silence. Just me and my thoughts.
A lot of people come to mind. So I have started a pattern of thinking of people who have died and praying
for them by name.
We stayed 2 nights in Santo Domingo.
I saw another Dr in Santo Domingo. She said same thing--- no walking
for 2 days.
Tonight we have walked on 8 miles to Gainonon the border of Rioja and
Castille Leon. I violated the Dr order.
I concelebrated mass with the local priest in a 1000 year old church. Tell
Mike that they have parish records going back 1000 years. All the
sacramental records are in a vault at their diocese. The priests (my age) has four parishes. He said some
priests in the diocese of Logrono/Santo Domingo have 10 parishes. Every night he feeds and houses 40
pilgrims all by donation only. Good man. I this him we would pray for him and his parish that it continue
another 1000 years.
To bed. Tomorrow I hobble 17 km (10 miles).
Love to all. Peter
September 30
Video 9-30-16
October 1
Better day today. I walked with a young man (39)from Brazil who lives
in London and works in finance. He wants out. He injured his feet so he
too was slow. He is a devout Catholic and a real inspiration. He said he
is learning from the Camino:
To accept pain
To accept help from strangers
To make simple plans & let God do the rest
To want less and carry nothing.
...
He said his father needs hope and should do the Camino. But he said
"My father is old."
"How old?" I asked.
"65," he said.
I am 66 I told him. Excellent he said My father must do this.
I am meeting wonderful people on this Camino. The nicest people
ever.
Food and wine are great too.
We walk from about 8 am (daylight) to 4 pm.
Tell TP that the French make a truck called TePee.
Love to all.
October 4, 2016 Burgos, Spain
Glorious day. Sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Norte y Londres
(north & London) in central Burgos, Castille y Leon.
We are taking a two day rest here. I reminded Marty that it is a law
of God that we should rest every 7th day. The Camino has a way
of making God's law come alive.
Yesterday was a long slog from Atapuerca to Burgos 22 km (13 miles). First half of the day was very hard
climbing over small mountain which was very rocky. No breakfast.
Second half of the day was hot flat land.
Been meeting wonderful people. Two days ago on another 22km
day a very gregarious Englishman (retired from British army)
walked with me and carried my day pack. He could see I was
absolutely done with 2 km still to go. He bought me an energy
drink and pulled me back up on my feet. He has 2 huge sons ages
23 and 25, both British army. They were great encouragement.
After they found out I was a priest they kept calling me Father
Peter. When we got to Atapuerca I bought all of us dinner and a few
rounds of beers. I sat up with the dad talking about his family and
prayed for one of the sons who feels a terrible depression or
oppression. They asked me about exorcism. They are Church of
England but don't practice. But on the Camino they are stopping in
churches and praying. He said his resolution on the Camino is to draw
closer to his wife.
BTW --- Atapuercais is where the oldest human remains have been
found in Europe.
Outside of Atapuerca there was a house with a huge dinosaur skeleton
made of some form of plastic. I asked why. Just for fun, I was told. The
Spanish are very strange people.
Yesterday as we drew close to Burgos it was very hot. I was walking
alone around the perimeter fence of the Burgos airport. I started singing
"This day God gives me" an Irish hymn based on the prayer of St
Patrick. A man came up behind and introduced himself in an Irish
accent --- David from Kerry. He asked if he could carry my pack and
what was wrong with my leg. I told him I had torn ligaments in my left
knee. He made me stop right there and he prayed over my knee. Then
he asked me what I did. "I'm a Catholic priest in a parish in Maryland."
He turned out to be an Evangelical minister on his 4th Camino with his
stepchildren. We prayed together at the end of the runway of the
airport. I ran into him 2 times more.
Today my leg is better, so prayer worked. Nice thing about the Camino is people really talk about their lives
and their spiritual lives, doubts and fears.
Now we are in Burgos --- fabulous medieval city. We are taking 3 nights here. This morning we went to the
Cathedral. I assumed we would be there a few minutes but we stayed 4 hours. It is absolutely fabulous--- a
gothic Disneyland absolutely full of art history and wonder but not a great worship space. Paula Muth's
ancestor St/king Fernando is buried there. So is El Cid , the great Spanish knight and hero.
At lunch we met a nice couple who rang a group the German friends of the Camino. They don't walk it
anymore . They promote improving the Camino. They told us that more than 250,000 people walked the
Camino last year. Fifty thousand began in France where we started.
Burgos is a city I have always wanted to see. In the Spanish colonial Era it was the great academic center.
Francisco de Vitoria, one of my great legal heroes taught here. He is considered the father of international
law. He wrote the first law of warfare -- trying to limit violence. He also opposed slavery and the oppression
of the Indigenous people of the Americas. His famous essay "By what right does Spain make war in the
Indies?" Was a real challenge to Spain . He did succeed in limiting slavery in regard to Spanish colonies but
he did not stop the importation of slaves from Africa. It is important to remember that there were good role
of conscience in every age. Tomorrow I will take flower to his statue --- if I can find it. There is a memorial
to him at the International Court at The Hague. He was also a priest, so I have a double reason to be proud of
him --- lawyer and priest.
Thanks for all your prayers. I often wish you could be here. Mom would love the art. I think Peggy's prayer
to send an angel was answered in Enrique.
Thanks to Reid Godbolt for his advice on duct tape. It works. No blisters. Also he was right about wear trail
runners instead of boots. They are much lighter. I bought a pair in Santo Domingo and gave the boots to
Catholic charities of Burgos.
One more thing. Thanks to Nancy Smith on her advice of sending my big 20 lb pack by van. The service,
called "Jaco trans" (St James transport). God bless Jacotrans.
Photos below.
Love to all.
Video 10-4-16
October 5 Burgos, Spain
October 8 Castrojeriz, Spain
Feeling very discouraged today.
Yesterday was the most difficult day yet. We walked from
Burgos to a tiny little spot on the Camino called Hornillos del
Camino. A distance of 22 kilometers, about 14 miles including
a couple of detours.
The day started out pretty well. After 3 nights at the Hotel
Norte y Londra in Burgos I was pretty well rested and very
well fed.
Walking through Burgos was full of interesting things to see.
We passed the fabulous Cathedral again and then slipped out
of town through a long park. Near the park we made a slight
detour to see two things that were high in my list. Marty
honored me but I could tell he was anxious to get on the road
and get to our objective.
Our first stop was the Cistercian abbey at Las Huelgas. It is nearly
perfectly preserved from the Middle Ages. It is the burying place of
many royalty of early Castille. It was closed when we got there so we
walked around the outside. The second place we stopped was the
Faculty of Law at the University of Burgos. The facade is Middle
Ages but the buildings behind are new. We took a photo at the law
school gate where Francisco de Vitoria taught law and wrote his
famous essays.
Then we walked and walked and walked some 20 k.
In the morning it was cold and cloudy.
In the afternoon it was hot and very sunny.
As the day wore on I was in more and more pain. My balance was
terrible and my pace was so slow it added to the pain.
I climbed up and up the mesetta (high plains) past endless wheat
fields and giant hay stacks.
There was no shade, nowhere to sit down and no water.
The day wore on five, six then finally seven o'clock. The sun was
beginning to set and I was completely alone in the midst of
nowhere. For the first time on the Camino I was really concerned.
After another 2 or 3 painful km I got to the top of the hill which
descended into the village Hornillos del Camino (pop 200). I
looked down the hill with some fear. When your knee is bad,
going down is worse than up. I sat down on a rock. Just then an
angel appeared in the form of a Swedish girl named Kay. (Kay
was short for Kayko. A Japanese name. Her father is Japanese
and immigrated to Sweden, where he met her mother. She
reminded me of Danielle Rodgers.)
The name of the hill is the Matamulos--- the mule killer. It is
steep! Like looking down a roller coaster.
I inched down the hill. Part way down I texted Marty and told
him if I wasn't at the hotel by 7:45 pm to send out a car.
Marty walked out to meet me and carried my pack into town. He
was great. After a couple more km, we got to the Casa Rural
where I climbed to the 3rd floor and collapsed on the bed. I
couldn't go anywhere so Marty went out and got pizza from the
bar and lemon crumb cake. We ate it at a table in the hallway. Best meal yet.
Next morning we consulted the young hotel owner, Samuel. He said a flat tire does not get better by driving
on it. He arranged for me to ride to the next town with Pedro the van driver. Pedro was a talkative type. Told
me all about the area. He also drove me to the doctor (third one)
who told me what the other two had said --- rest.
I left the clinic and bought a banana and peach for lunch. As I was
eating them in the town square a man about 40 yrs old sat down on
a bench near by. He was on crutches. I said to him in Spanish---
"we are twins," pointing to my knee and walking poles. Turns out
he was from California. Name is Chad. Nice guy. Had torn the
ligaments in his knee and had been staying in that little town (
Castrojariz) for two weeks! He was giving up on the Camino and
talking a bus to Santiago.This is his second time on the Camino, so
he was not disappointed. He is a Unitarian, but says he finds a
spirituality on the Camino.
Tonight Marty and I have rented a nice room at a campground. We
had dinner with a nice Dutch couple recently retired. They travel
in their trailer. We spoke of our election. They said it dominates
the Dutch newspapers. They are very afraid of Trump. Everyone we talk to about our election is in disbelief
that Trump is a serious contender for President. He frightens them.
I heard yesterday that Fr. Bill Stickle died at age 93. He was my friend and mentor since 1968 when I met
him as our pastor at U Va. A man of courage, compassion, kindness, and joy. I will miss him. He asked that I
preach at his funeral. We will postpone it until after Christmas.
Say a prayer for him, not that he needs it. If Bill is not in heaven, nobody is and I don't want to go.
Say a prayer that I can walk soon.
Love to all. Photos follow.
October 10 Carrión de los Condes, Spain ·
Quiet day. Got a ride with Pedro the van driver for "Caminofacil"
the baggage service. It was my third ride with Pedro. Resting my
leg and waiting for the knee to heal.
Tonight we are in a small town that has been hosting pilgrims for
800 years, Carrion de los Condes in Castille Spain. Lovely town
and nice people. Once had no less than 14 pilgrim hospitals.
People have been getting sick and dying on the Camino for a long
time.
We are staying with the poor Claire nuns. They are cloistered so
we only see their porter Ignacio. He is Shakespearean character.
Will stay here two days. Then take the bus onward or hobble on if
better.
Mass tonight at the parish church. Met the priest and seminarian who
is on his pastoral year. Signs of hope. Lit candles for Mom, family
and parish at the shrine of Our Lady of the Camino. Also got the
prayer Our Lady Untier of Knots. Mary Dwan knows the prayer.
I heard Fr David Mudd died. We were the same age. RIP
Photos of Carrion follow
Adoration at the Poor Claires Monastery in
Carrion des Condes in Spain where I am staying
for a couple of days to rest my knee.
October 11 Carrión de los Condes, Spain ·
Good day today resting in the small town of Carrion de los Codes.
Stayed in bed most of the day at the Albergue run by the Poor
Claires.
Leg is much better but still weak. I've decided to stay another day
here to get better. It is much cheaper than other places and the
parish church and its pastor Padre Julio Gomez, are very
welcoming. I concelebrated Mass tonight with him and helped
bless the pilgrims. He says every year 30,000 pilgrims visit his church. Tonight there were about 150.
Fr Julio is a sign of hope. He is maybe 45, vigorous, intelligent and thoughtful. His homilies are excellent
and he preaches every day. He has Mass twice everyday. He spent a year working at St Catherine's parish in
Charlestown MA so he could learn English and speak to the pilgrims here. He really enjoys meeting all the
people and stamping their credentials. He prays over each of them individually each night. I really like this
place. Most pilgrims consider this the most boring part of the Camino.
The church here is 13th century (1200s). Every night they sing the Salve Regina in front of the statue of Our
Lady of the Camino. Fr Gomez points out that this
blessing and song have continued for 800 years in this
parish. During the Mass my mind wandered as I tried to
picture what it was like in all those different centuries
and all the many pilgrims passing through.
It is said that St Francis of Assisi stayed in the monastery
where I am staying but it certainly has been rebuilt many
times since.
I'm just resting. Not walking for now.
Love to all.
Spanish flag next to altar for feast of Our Lady
of Pilar, patroness of Spain.
October 12 Carrión de los Condes, Spain
Interesting day and it's only 2: 40 pm. Today is the feast day of
the Virgin of the Pilar. Mary appeared to Santiago with the baby
Jesus resting on a Pilar. Saint James was very discouraged,
according to Fr Gomez here in Carrion. As he told the crowd at
Mass today James was discouraged because the Spanish are a
hard-headed people. She told him not to give up. Whether he
listened or not is not clear because he went back to Jerusalem
where he was martyred.
Anyhow today is the national day for Spain. It is their national
holiday so everything is closed. Only restaurants and churches are
open.
I'm still in Carrion so I went to the parish church to sit and pray and
write. Fr Gomez was there and invited me to concelebrate. It is a big
deal Mass with the mayor and chief of police and the whole Guardia
Civil local barracks present (the national police).
While I waited the sacristan (maintenance guy) was setting up. He
was angry and talking out loud to himself. Sounded like TP 's lament
at home. "Jose unlock the door. Jose
sweep the floor. Jose replace the candles. Always Jose. Always Jose."
Just like TP says, Someone will a sweepy."
Two little girls showed up to serve mass. Fr Gomez told me that girls
serving on the altar is "revolutionary " in Spain. Fr. Gomez told me
that the parish in Carrion was staffed by Opus Dei for 40 years before
he arrived. He told me "Believe me, I am no liberal but in comparison
with what came before me I am a revolutionary. Fifty years after the
second Vatican Council and you would hardly know it had happened
here in Carrion."
The 2 little girls seemed pleased to serve. One of them took a
picture of Fr Gomez and I.
Mass was crowded. Just before Mass there were fireworks and a
canon was fired, which scared all the pilgrims.
At Mass Padre said to me in English, "Don't forget the Guardia
Civil." So I added them into the prayer for the dead.
At the consecration the town band played the national anthem
which Padre Gomez says he considers strange but nothing he can
do about it.
After Mass lots of photos for the police in front of the altar and
flag of Spain.
This day (October 12) is also celebrated in the new world as
Columbus Day. Fr Gomez mentioned the K of C and made a
gesture to me of the hats with the feathers.
I went to lunch at a local cafe which was very crowded. I shared a
table with an 88 year old man named Manuel, who seems to know
everyone in town. They all came over to say hello to him .
On the Camino even the curses are blessings. My bad left knee has
made me stay in this little town and helped me to know the people.
More fun than walking in the rain.
Just a little on the geography and history. We have now been in
three regions of Spain: Navarra, Rioja, and now Castille y Leon
(two kingdoms merged into one).
Navarra is mountainous and green. It is Basque Country and all the
signs in Navarra are in both languages. The Basques want independence from Spain. Sometimes they set off
bombs, but not lately. It is a rich province but it would be a poor country.
The Basques are not really Spanish. They look Irish or Scottish and their music and dancing remind me of
Irish step dancing. Very friendly but don't like Madrid much.
The second region was Rioja, more classic Spanish. Lots of vineyards. Wine everywhere. Not so
mountainous as Navarra. Still beautiful. It was the northern outpost of the Moors.
Now we are in Castile y Leon, halfway through the Camino.
Castile is classic Spain. It is their language which we call Spanish. They are very conservative, support the
King and monarchy, and are proud of Spain. They speak beautifully and clearly.
They would not be ashamed of the national flag. Here I wear Joe Garcias' "Espana" hat.
They have big farms here and grow lots of grain. This was the breadbasket of the Roman Empire. The last
town back was called Fromista, from the Latin "Fermin" for grain. (We get our word fermented from that
root.) There was a canal to bring grain to the sea and to Rome.
The atmosphere here is like any small rural community: warm, clannish but still welcoming in limits. Lots of
pilgrims pass through but nobody spends three days here, like I did. People even recognize me and nod at me
on the street and say Padre. Nice.
Tomorrow, if Gods wills, I take the bus to Leon. Leon was a Roman garrison town--- A place for the Roman
legions--- hence Leon. There were dozens like it around the empire, such as Lyon in France --- all garrison
towns.
Tired now. Feet and knee are better but still not up to the Camino. Everybody must walk their own Camino
and learn what it teaches. I'm learning patience and resignation. It was a blessing to stop here and come to
know Ignacio, Padre Gomez, and Manuel.
Photos to follow.
October 14 Carrión de los Condes, Spain ·
Leaving Carrion for Leon by bus. Will have missed a total of
7 days walking about 80 miles. Leg is better but left knee still
weak.
Said Goodbye to Ignacio in Carrion. He is the nearsighted
porter at the Monastery of the Poor Claires. Nicest guy but
could not get my name so he called me Menez, Marty's last
name, since that was the name used in our registration.
October 15 · León, Spain ·
All day today in Leon the big city of Castille y Leon. (pop about
250,000). Took bus yesterday from Carrion. I was surprised at
how many pilgrims were on the bus. All injured in some way.
As I waited for the bus in Carrion I called Mario Riano's uncle Dr
Zambrano (brother of Guillermo Zambrano who was at Calvert
Memorial in radiology for many years.) He is an Orthopedic
surgeon. Nicest fellow. He asked me to send x-rays, which I don't
have. He encouraged me to come to his hospital in the Pyrenees
Mts. But that would be going back 200 miles. He encouraged me to
stay off the leg.
Caught bus to Leon. Met two interesting people, both injured
pilgrims, both men in late 30s or early 40s. First one was a
Spanish artist and designer who had worked all round the world,
most recently in Italy for the design house Benetton. They are a
very creative bunch.
Other man was named Aaron, born in Germany of Eritrean descent.
We hobbled into Leon together. I was carrying two packs, the big
one and the day pack strapped together. He was very surprised that I
could guess that he was from Eritrean descent. I knew because he
looked like Fr Baraki who I lived with at St Gabriel's who is from
Tigray, Eritrea.
If life gives you the chance, visit Leon. It is absolutely beautiful,
ancient, and full of wonderful places to eat. The Cathedral is the
Leon Cathedral in mist. They
ordained 3 people there last week, 1
from Costa Rica, 1 from Poland, 1
from El Salvador. No Spaniards.
jewel of the city. Built in just 50 years, it is a Gothic masterpiece. It is
lace work in stone with huge huge stained glass windows to let in
maximum light. It was finished toward the end of 1200s. Many ways
this was the southern most outpost of Christianity at the time.
The building is gigantic. Even more amazing when you consider that it
was built at a time when Leon had only 5,000 inhabitants. Everyone
must have devoted everything to building that church.
Also went to St Isidore's, patron of farmers. Lovely mediaeval church.
Took tourist train ride round town. Great fun and little kids all waved
hello.
I'm getting better each day but still slow. Marty is getting worse. He
had terrible pain in his left leg. He is thinking of going home. We are
praying on it over the weekend and will decide on Monday. I think I
will continue in some fashion on foot or by bus.
Thinking of Brigid today. This is the final week in the house at
Dover Plains. She is in my prayers.
Love to all.
City hall. House of Guzman family, Lords of Leon.
Fountain in St. Dominic Plaza
Interior of Leon Cathedral choir
area. A latter Renaissance addition.
Wrong place, if you ask me.
Obscured altar.
Me with Peggy Sue, where we had a hamburger in perfect
reproduction of 1950s diner. Marty knew every song on jukebox.
Palace of Knights of Santiago
Palace of Knights of Santiago. Now a luxury Parador
(hotel). This is the hotel Martin Sheen and company stayed
in the movie The Way.
October 18 Leon
Two old guys hobbling through Spain. Marty and I met each
other a half century ago at St Ignatius HS in Chicago. We have a
hard time remembering that we are not 18 yrs old anymore.
I've got torn ligaments in my left knee. He has tendinitis which
gives him stabbing pain in his left leg. We can't get anywhere
quickly. We watch the street acrobats with envy. Hell, we watch
ordinary people climb stairs with envy.
So today we are at the hospital of Leon, a gleaming new medical
palace on the edge of Leon. Very modern and efficient. Looks
and smells like any new hospital in the US.
Got interrupted and some how it posted in my pocket.
The Camino is an individual thing. Everybody walks their own.
For some it is a hike, they relish the physical challenge. They don't
see much, the goal is to get there, walking 500 miles.
For some (very few I think) it is one long pub crawl.
For others it is an encounter with people from all around the
world.
Everybody walks their own. For me it is a combination spiritual
pilgrimage and adventure.
But, it is hard. Marty is the ultimate Navy black shoe. If there is an
easy way and a hard way, he takes the hard way. I sent my pack
ahead in the van. He carried his.
But we are not 18. So here we are at the hospital. I'm not seeing
anyone. After 4 doctors there is nothing to learn. Just rest like the
medieval pilgrims. There is a reason why every town had a
pilgrim hospital. Mostly what they did was rest.
Even the pause is a pilgrimage in the right spirit. Marty is more
goal oriented than I am. But we are both resigned to the physical
facts.
Thus hospital is divided into two wings: Virgin Blanca and Princess Sophia. I asked the lady which way we
were going. "The virgin," she indicated. "Good" I said, "rather go with the Virgin than the princess."
At breakfast this am got panhandled in the restaurant by a gypsy boy. He said he was hungry. I said no
money but I'll buy you food. The lady at the coffee bar was clearly irritated. He was clearly disappointed.
Photos in bullfighters bar across
from our hotel. They are the most
arrogant and handsome men..
Photos of matadors.
But that's the deal.
This is our 5th day here in Leon. Today or tomorrow we will decide what
to do--- suspend or carry on.
I'll be ok either way. I hope we can finish but if not that's ok too.
Yesterday we went to St Isidore's church near our hotel to sit, pray and
rest. For 8 centuries people doing the same. Like any city church.
African man behind me sound asleep and snoring. Probably homeless.
Boy up front praying and silently crying. Probably a broken heart or
failed exam or lost job.
Several old ladies with canes resting their bones and saying their
rosary.
A man who stood for a while just stopping for a visit.
Steady string of pilgrims.
For all its faults and history the church still provides a refuge and
rest to needy souls.
St. Isidore’s, 12th
C church one street from out hotel. Good place
to sit and pray.
Our Hospital on right. Our room on 2nd
floor. Very nice people.
Gave us ice for our legs and soup for our stomachs.
Column from a Roman temple
commemorating Marcus Aurelius
commander of 7th
legion once HQ in
Leon (hence the city name --- legion
--- Leon).
Plaza in front of Hotal San Martin. Our home in Leon.
Hospital of Leon where Marty went for examination. I
hobbled aqlong. Talked to Dr. Zambrano again. He said stay
off the leg.
October 20 Valverde de la Virgen, Spain ·
We started walking again today, only 8 miles today.
Fifteen tomorrow.Left Leon. We are now more that
half way through the Camino. I missed total of 8 days
of walking, about 100 miles or 170 km.
I will have walked about 400 miles.
Knee OK, but not 100%.
October 21 Villadangos del Páramo, Spain ·
Still walking. In Villadangos, a nothing much town in Leon
province. We are sending our packs ahead. Downstairs in our
little hotel old men playing cards and drinking beer. One old
lady walking by talking to herself saying, "This town is "mierda,
mierda, mierda." (Look it up.) Couldn't tell if she was unhappy
with the town or the old men. Maybe both.
Two thoughts. First on Camino stuff. Second on Spain itself and
the Church here in particular.
The Camino---
Everybody brings too much stuff on the Camino. From the first
day you start off loading and adjusting. First day in France I saw
a woman putting on eye makeup. Haven't seen that since. She
probably pitched her make up case.
First day I gave away my shower shoes and tossed my cotton
underwear. Second day I tossed the deodorant, aftershaves, the
missalette and all unnecessary paper. Got rid of my day pack in
Leon. Gave my alb and stoles to Fr Gomez. Etc etc now down to a
20lb pack and what I have in my pockets and hanging from my
belt.
Also have lost weight which Dr Weigel will be stunned to hear.
Haven't weighed myself but the love handles are gone and much of my
beer belly. I pull my belt three more notches. Maybe docs should
prescribe the Camino for weight loss. Nothing like walking 10 to 20
miles per day. I bet I'm 15 pounds lighter.
Day begins at 6 or 6:30. My alarm has Dominican nuns singing "Come
Holy Ghost." While Marty is in the shower I say my prayers. Breakfast
at a local coffee bar --- cafe con leche, bread and juice. Don't ask for
butter. Start walking between 8 and 8:30. It is dark in Spain until about
8:30am. Hard to walk in the country in the dark. Spain sticks way out
into the Atlantic Ocean but still on same time as Rome or Berlin.
We walk until we get to our objective. I'm good for four hours but start
flagging by noon. Marty never stops for rest. One day I walked 12
hours. Nearly killed me. That was the day I really crashed.
End of the day I have beer. Marty has a sip of my beer. We eat the pilgrim menu which always has fried
potatoes in the second course and always has flan or ice cream for dessert.
Pilgrim statue on way to
Villadangos.
Pilgrim cross in field.
We are in bed by 9 or 9:30 pm, exhausted. Sleep the sleep of the
dead. If there is a evenings Mass, we go. Sometimes I
concelebrate.
That's it. Except for the days we have stayed longer in a town to
rest. Stayed in four places more than one night --- Pamplona,
Burgos, Carrion, and Leon. I think I will have apartments in all
four in retirement.
About Spain---
If it is poor, it does not look it. The Spanish, especially women,
dress well. They drive nice cars, Audi, Mercedes, Seat, Volvo, etc.
Their houses look nice. The restaurants, bars, and shops are
crowded.
Fernando, our host in Leon, said this is all an illusion. Retired
pensioners, university students, government employees and
tourists spend money. Everybody else is tightening their belts. We
see a few beggars in big cities. Poverty is more prevalent in big
cities, like Madrid. We have not been in big urban areas.
Some country towns appear to be dying just a block off the
Camino. Many houses and apartments for sale in some towns.
Fernando says you can rent. Huge apartment in the old city of
Leon for $1500 a month. Problem is it is 200 to 300 years old, no
AC, elevator or modern kitchen. On the other hand it has high
ceilings, big windows and balconies and a view of some plaza.
Sounds lovely. Modern apartments in Leon are less, $800 to
$1000.
If you are poor, Spain is a good place. Healthcare is good and
covered by your health card. Food is cheap and plentiful. Lots of
social service and tight knit families and communities.
The young people, especially young families are stressed. Youth
unemployment is nearly 50%. When they finish school many go
to Germany or Low Countries for jobs. Some to UK, but that
will end with Brexit.
Spanish Catholicism is living in the legacy of the past. Few young
people in church. Fewer vocations than even the States. Priests
have multiple parishes. Sisters all old. But movements like Cursillo
and Opus Die started here. Seems like this whole huge structure is
living in the past.
Bell tower with three birds’ nests.
at Hostal Liberatad in Villadangos
Del Paramo
Museum of Leon, former palace.
at Hostal Liberatad in Villadangos
Del Paramo
Museum of Leon, former4 palace.
at Hostal Liberatad in Villadangos
Del Paramo
These are all superficial observations, probably half wrong. Spain is like Italy. As Luigi Bardzini said in The
Italians, "When people have been here two weeks they think they understand everything. When people have
been here two years , they know they understand nothing."
Photos to follow. Love to all.
Apartment house by Antoni Gaudi, famous architect from
Barcelona. Now Bank of Spain. At Hostal Liberatad in
Villadangos Del Paramo
Lights on Saint Dominic plaza. St. Dominic Guzman, founder of
Dominicans is big here. At Hostal Liberatad in Villadangos Del
Paramo
October 24 Rabanal del Camino
We are in Rabanal del Camino. So far Marty has walked 547 km.
(321 miles).
I have walked about 425 km. (250 miles)
We are 2/3 done with the Camino.
Rabanal would not exist without the Camino and the Church. The
Camino fills its 3 or 4 Albergues and coffee bars. But the church
gives the town a soul.
There is a tiny Benedictine monastery in Rabanal. Only 16 years old. There are three monks. The abbot is
German. The other two are Korean and Spanish. The Korean monk is new. He will minister to the many
Koreans who walk the Camino. He is currently off doing the Camino himself.
The three monks are priests. They take care of four parishes in the area, for which the bishop pays them.
They took over an old house and abandoned church which they use for their monastery chapel.
Marty and I went to evening prayer. The chapel was full with pilgrims. The two monks chanted in Latin
and prayers and readings were offered in Spanish, French, English and German.
I was proud and touched by the power of the church prayer to reach so many non- believers and seekers.
After the prayer we spoke to the abbot. He looked at me with concern and asked in English, "Are you
walking the Camino." I must look bad. I told him I have torn ligaments and arthritis. He said "I have
something that will help you." He went off to his room and came back with a small bottle of St John's Wort.
He bottled it himself. "Rub this on your arthritis and ligaments
twice each day."
After Evening prayer we went back to the Hostal garden and bar.
Marty did his emails. I talked with two guys next to us on the
bench. One was a graphic designer from Berlin (Philip) and the
other was a artist from Seoul (Tinwah).
We had a great time talking. For me the Fun part of the Camino
is the conversation.
Once they found out that I was a priest the conversation turned
to religion and faith. Marty went off to our room and we sat up
late talking. Maybe conversations like that are what the Camino
is really about. That and prayer like we had at the monastery.
October 25 Acebo
Did a 17 km walk today (10 miles).
Easy for others, hell for me. Actually a little more because of
detours.
We walked through mountains that remind me of the beautiful
hills of West Virginia.
All morning we walked in fog and rain to the highest point on
the Camino (1550 meters --- about 4000 feet. Beautiful but
very rough.
We passed the the iron cross (Cruz ferro). We threw our stones
on the big pile and said a prayer.
"May the weight of this stone and the sufferings endured on this
Camino be weighed in the balance when at last I come to be
judged by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. And may the Mountains of Leon near Acebo
Garden where I sat up late talking to
Philip and Tinwah
merits of the passion of Our Lord bring us to everlasting life."
I was all choked up. But we had to move along because other
people wanted photos.
Now we are in Acebo, pretty little town that lives entirely off the
Camino. The last four km were steep down hill over very rough
gullies filled with stone. Every step was an agony with my
ligaments. I put braces on both knees. We went from 1500 meters
to 1100 meters or so.
I literally had to will myself down the mountain. Everybody passed
me. Two Brazilian boys mocked my pace. I would have slugged
them if I could have caught them.
After a late lunch early dinner I went straight to bed at 4:30 pm.
We are in a cute hotel with only 3 rooms. The owner was walking
the Camino 15 years ago and bought this place and stayed.
Ask Betty Hodges if this does remind her of W Va.
Can't do another day like this one.
Photos to follow: Love to all.
Monastery at
Rabanal
Cahhedral at Astoga. Doesn’t the church have some great
real estate?
Laundry at Rabani
Me in rain gear.
Roof of our Hostel at Villadangos.
BilBo Baggins could live here.
Gaudi designed museum of the Camino
with Cathedral of Astorga behind.
Astorga was a Roman trading hub named
Austurius Augustus – the renowned
emperor Augustus. Shortened to
Astorga.
Bridge at Obrogo where a knight defended his honor by killing 200
knights after being jilted by a lady. He should have just moved on
from that relationship.
Marty under his sign.
A saint for putting up with me.
Kitties at Rabanai.
Kitties follow me.
Bar at Hostal in Rabanai.
Monastery church at Rabanai.
Marti and I at Cruz ferro after prayer.
October 28 Vega de Valcarce, Spain ·
In a tiny little slice of heaven called Villafranca del Bierzo in the
vineyards and mountains of Leon.
Came here after 25 km walk from Ponferda in Leon. Ponderosa
(iron bridge in Latin). Big city --- (79,000 people). Nice town.
Settled by the Knights Templar who built a big castle here.
Knights were a crusading order of men who were assigned to
protect pilgrims on the Camino from raids by bandits and
Moslems. The Knights were suppressed by the pope at pressure
from European kings on Friday 13th in 1178 (I think). That's why
Friday the 13th is unlucky.
We walked into town from Acebo in the mountains to Ponferda
down in the low lands. VERY HARD WALK FROM ACEBO.
Through gullies and dry river beds. Anyone who says the Camino
is easy does not know what they are talking about.
Passed through the most charming town called Molinaseca --- dry
mill. Like a mountain town in Bavaria or Switzerland. Had a
pizza there.
Walk, walk, walk to Ponferda. Hotel San Martin owner very
gregarious. Saw my limp and brought me a bag of ice personally
to put on my leg. Nice people everywhere in the world.
Today we walked walked walked 23 or 25 km to this town ----
Villafranca.
Staying at Hotel Puerta del Perdon (Door of Forgiveness).
I carried my big pack 25 lbs, for first time. Almost passed out
from walk up and down steep hills. Really hard walk.
Got to Hotel here exhausted. But better now. Lady here at Hotel
did my laundry. Young man here, waiter in dining room and desk
clerk was very nice. Marty and I went out to dinner and ran into a
church group and priest from St Theresa of Avila in Lincoln Park
area of Chicago.
Young man in our hotel (Christian) and lady from Madrid sat
with Marty and I and talked for a long time. Marty really
impressed them with his elegant and correct Spanish.
Path down to Acebo
Hotel owner (Jaime) in Acebo.
Mts of Leon. Much higher than
anything we had seen..
Christian was an extra in the movie "The Way." It was partly
filmed here.
Christian confirmed that it was at the Roman Bridge that Martin
Sheen lost his back pack..
Christian was an extra in the gypsie scene where a boy steals
Sheen's back pack.
We had the best time talking about the Camino and Spain. I asked
why Spanish people don't move out of Spain. He said because life
is good here. Lady from Madrid agreed.
We are now 75% done with Camino. Despite my pains it is the
most fun ever.
Praying for everyone at home. Marty and I say rosary as we walk
in AM.
BTW we make it a practice to remember everyone at home.
Tomorrow we cross the hardest mountain pass. Hope my feet and
left leg hold out.
Tonight we had dinner with a lovely Swedish lady. Very devout
Lutheran. She is excited that the Pope is visiting her home village
in Sweden to mark the 500th anniversary of the Reformation.
Love to all. Photos follow.
Roman bridge.
Nearly abandoned street near Molinaseca. Some little towns
are nearly abandoned thought Molinaseca seems pretty good.
Gullies outside of Molinaseca
Church and park at Molinaseca
Knights Templar Castle in Pontfersda.
Bridge over river CUA. That is not Catholic University
of America. It is the Cua River
Bridge at Cacabelos. Nice town with unfortunate name.
Hotel porta del Perdon.Beautiful little hotel in Villafranca
de Bierzo. The young man who managed the little hotel
was an extra in The Way.
Street in Villafranca
Cafe on Plaza Mayor where we ran into a group from St
Theresa of Avila parish in Lincoln Park Chicago.
House in Villafranca which was probably once
occupied be Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor of the
Spanish Inquisition. People may have been tortured
nearby.
Kitty in window
559 down. Only 190 km to go.
Autopistas flying over valley near O Cebrero.
Highway more than 200 feet in the air.
Sign at Brigid project, named after Irish goddess not the
Irish Abbess. But he did spell it the Irish way.
House called the Brigid project. A multi faith house started
by someone named Richard Kaplan from Chicago. He was
hiking the Camino, bought a house and stayed.
October 30 Sarria, Spain ·
Today I have been walking in heaven. That doesn't mean that it
was easy but it has been heavenly beautiful.
We are now in Galicia, our fourth region of Spain and the last on
our Camino. Tomorrow we will pass through Sarria, the place
where lots more people join the Camino since we will be close to
the 100 km mark. To earn a certificate one must walk a minimum
of 100 km.
For the last two days we have been walking in the mountains of Leon and
Galicia. Yesterday we climbed O Cebrerio, more than 600 meters
practically straight up to the top of the mountain. Reid Godbolt would this
place --- trout streams everywhere and a trail up the mountain. Many
pilgrims forego the climbing and ride a rented horse to the top. We decided
to walk but sent our packs on ahead by the van.
It was exhausting but exhilarating. The wild mountains with gorgeous
green pastures for mountain goats. I walked the last bit of the climb with a
24 year old French girl named Mickie. She was as beautiful as the
countryside around us. Very devout Catholic. She lives near Lyon
in France, very near Ars. Of course she knew about St John
Pilgrim statue. 559 km to
Roncesvalles (where we started) and
only 190 km to Santiago.
Vianney.
She heard Marty and I praying the rosary. I asked her to say the
prayers in French. Sounded like music.
Near the top I stopped at the cafe where Marty was waiting but
she was walking on. She and I had been talking about all the
priests and nuns killed in various revolutions, French Spanish and
Mexican . I got choked up just talking about it.
She stopped by the cafe and asked me to give her a blessing.
Several people watching. She was moved too. Moments like that
make me happy to be a priest. One English lady came up later and told
me it was very moving.
At the top of the mountain is an 800 year old church where they still
have pilgrims masses every night. How many hundreds of thousands
(millions) of souls have sat there and prayed.
At lunch I met two young men, one from Germany (Philip) and another
(Luca) from Rome --- both engineers. I kidded Luca about speaking
Romanach (the dialect of Rome). I used my few phrases of dialect. He
was so surprised to hear an American speaking in Roman slang. For the
last day or so we keep seeing them on the trail and Luca greets me with
the Roman, "Ma O --- ragatz --- do va."
Sort of like "Hey boy--- where you going?"
We stayed last night in a tiny Casa Rural (hotel). Had dinner with
an English business man who has recently gone through a divorce.
Very intelligent man.
Our tiny hotel (four rooms) was rural Galicia --- right next to a cow
barn.. The meal was the traditional bean soup. The lady of the house
was entertaining. Told us about the local culture.Their language is
very close to Portuguese. She said they have easier time
understanding Portuguese and Brazilians than the Spanish. The
locals here are very country --- unpretentious people who seem to
laugh a lot. All agriculture and hunting.
Today we walked 21 km. --- beautiful but hard walking. For
about 10 km there was nowhere to sit down or pause. I finally
found a hippie Buddhist sort of place. I got a drink of water and a
banana and a cookie for free. They had the cutest orange kittens
Mickie (Michelle) the French girl I
met on the way up O Cebrerio.
Rocky path up the mountain..
Stepping from Leon to Galicia. Their
music is Gaelic and their language is
Portuguese..
that the lady there tried to give me.
Now in a tiny hotel in the middle of a field. Only 4 rooms. They
have a leg massage machine. I'm going to try it. Remember when
motels had beds with magic fingers. The most fun a celibate can
have and only 2€.
I shall be profoundly sorry when this Camino is over. Despite the
pain. We have nice people, beautiful scenery, good food, cheap
places to stay. It is heaven with tendinitis and torn ligaments to
keep you grounded. Otherwise no one would come off the Camino.
Love to all.
Photos to follow.
Km marker --- Santiago is less than a week away
Chickens in the road
Our 'hotel' in the barnyard at Fonfria.
Rush hour in Fonfria.
800 year old church at top of O
Cebrerio.
The hills around us.
The valley below.
The road ahead.
Three kitties in a basket.
Little Russells.
Hippies rest stop where I got a banana
and a glass of water. Nice people.
November 2 Mellid, Spain ·
It's hard to describe what is happening now. We have entered the
spiritual part of the Camino. We are 3 or 4 days from Santiago and
reflection is even more intense.
I wrote a wonderful post off line this morning but lost it when I got
interrupted and failed to save it correctly.
Anyhow, despite continuous aches and pains I feel a sort of
"lightness of being." Happiness I guess.
Marty and I have even accommodated to each other. He is the
"manager" and I am the spiritual director. He is Felix and I am
Oscar (the Odd Couple) .
This morning after the rosary (feast of All Souls). Marty sped
ahead and I limped along. It was an exceptional morning: clear,
warm, and bright --- washed clean by rain the night before. It was
like that scene in the Disney movie where the guy sings "Zippedy
do da, zippediae, my oh my what a wonderful day."
All around me were green meadows with big fat brown cows.
There were birds and shade trees along the Camino.
I looked up at the heavens. I was all alone on the country lane.
Somehow I felt moved to cry out Psalm 8:
"O Lord our God , how great is your name in all the earth. When I
see the heavens, the work of your hands, the moon and the stars
which you have arranged, what is man that you should keep him
in mind, mortal man that you should care for him?"
For the first time I played music on my I Phone --- first the
Dominican nuns who wake us up every morning with "Come Holy
Ghost."
When their chant was done I played the "Buena Vista Social Club".
The first song was "Dos Gardenias Para Ti" (2 gardenias for you)
and then "El Camino Verdadero" (the true way).
It is impossible to listen to Cuban music and not dance. So I started
dancing my "crippled white boy" dance down the country lane ---
my walking poles swinging all around me and my jacket flying. I
was like Tevyah in Fiddler on the Roof." Dancing and singing
Cow with her calf.
Which way - Contradicting signs.
'I am the way, and the truth and the
life' at a pilgrim fountain.
along with the Buena Vista Social Club. If there were Camino
police they might have arrested me, but nobody witnessed the
whole thing except some big eyed cows and a couple of farm
dogs.
After a while I sat down on a wall near a cafe that had the two
oddest statues of giant ants (insects) with signs that said "do not
sit" on the ants. The Spanish are certifiably odd people. I have
seen a field full of mannequin heads, statues of dinosaurs and
now giant ants in a cafe court yard.
I sat down to write. But lost the text when a Canadian lady from
Calgary showed up --- Mary Louise. We talked and walked a
while. She is the only person on the Camino my slow speed. We
have been running into each other for the last 100 miles or so.
Other sights and sounds and sensations today.
We saw a cow who had just given birth to a calf. She was
cleaning it off. Still had the umbilical cord.
We saw dozens of barn yard cats and dogs. One cat came out
and brushed against my leg until I picked it up.
We saw old barns made of stone and slate, probably hundreds of
years old.
Galicia is perhaps the most beautiful country we have seen. It is
the first hills the winds off the Atlantic hit as they blow east and
where they drop their moisture. So it is green like the west of
Ireland. The sun makes it warm here during the day.
We stopped in a church. Sacristan there looked at me hobbling
and said, "The Camino is not a race --- it is a time of reflection
and peace."
I feel somewhat more spontaneous here, freer. Maybe that is the
effect of the Camino. It cuts you down to the essentials, makes
you open to strangers and dependent on them, and ready to
dance alone on a country road with only the cows and God to
witness. I hope I can do this back home. Dos Gardenias Para Ti.
Photos to follow. Love to all.
Prayers for our country as the elections approach.
Fountain next to sign
My audience at the dance.
Giant ants
Giant ants
Giant ant with Mary Louise, the Canadian lady.
Sign to heaven on the Camino with yellow arrow. Glad to
know which direction it is.
City where we had lunch paladin de Rei --- palace
of the king --- told that Philip II had a house near.
My poor left foot. Sorry. Ankle swollen too.
Getting a leg and foot massage in Pintin Galicia.
Most fun a celibate can have for two Euro..
Stone with my initials. I did not put them there.
Working on the Camino.
Cat who followed me.
Terrible picture I can't erase.
Orange wood on Halloween..
Our Hostal night before last.
18 priest from monastery in Sariah who were shot in
Spanish Civil war. 7000 priests and nuns were executed.
Raver entrance on Camino. We won't die of thirst.
November 4 Albergue O Burgo.
Yesterday I saw a Korean boy on a unicycle, making the
Camino. He moved very fast.
I swear it's true.
You see the darnedest things on the Camino.
For example, just yesterday, I saw a donkey tending his
own "sello" (seal or stamp) for Camino credentials. He
didn't say much. His master was nowhere around.
I saw a lady with a bright pink SEAT car (pronounced say-at, like FIAT)
selling raspberries and nuts and coffee. She grew them herself.
I've seen a transvestite man carrying a stuffed tiger and wearing a floppy
hat appropriate for the Ascot races.
I saw two boys in Navarra with giant stuffed panda bears on their
shoulders bringing smiles to pilgrims they said.
I saw a series of pumpkins carved with the Camino arrow (flecha).
I saw people with their dogs and people with babies walking the
Camino.
I asked the Korean boy why he was traveling the Camino on a
unicycle. He said my father asked me to do this. (Imagine --- some
American youth won't even take out the garbage when their parents ask
them.)
His English and Spanish were limited. My Korean was nonexistent. So we
had a lot of gestures. I told him, "You are the most awesome person I
have met on the Camino. He blushed and bowed like the Koreans do. As
Seinfeld would say, "It was a moment."
I have met the nicest people on the Camino, especially young people.
Think about it. Young people who do this are doers, not couch potatoes.
They have some Spiritual and religious imagination, and a desire for
adventure. They also tend to be healthy, well educated, and have the time
and money to take a month or two off. All the way along they call
out blessings "Buen Camino" as they pass. They go to church, even
when they don't have faith. They laugh a lot. They get up early and
walk. They smile and talk to old people like me. They have helped me
up and down hills and over streams and rocks. We have never been
afraid of attack or robbery from anyone on the Camino. Five hundred
miles of friendliness. Buen Camino!
Tomorrow the Camino comes to an end when we reach the Cathedral at
Santiago (20 km 12 miles from here) and visit the relics of St James
found in a field under the stars (hence Campo-Stella, field of stars) in
the 9th century. We will go to the pilgrim Mass at 7:30pm and I
will concelebrate if they let me. We will make all the ancient
rituals of pilgrims for a 1000 years.
Korean unicycle rider. I called him
Andy. Nicest kid. 21 years old.
Andy packing up.
Pumpkin Camino sign.
This Saint James whose relics are said to be there in Santiago
was the brother of John the beloved disciple and one of the two
"sons of thunder". He was recorded as executed by Herod
(grandson of Herod the Great) about the year 45 AD. Some
considerable confusion on this. Legend has it that between the
Resurrection of Jesus (roughly 33 AD and 45 AD) James went
out to the Roman province of Iberica and evangelized the
natives, went back to Jerusalem and was executed there. (He is
not the James who wrote the epistle.) He was beheaded by
Herod according to the Acts of the Apostles.
Anyhow, the legend has it that 2 of his disciples from Galicia
(this province of modern Spain) took his headless body down
the hill from Jerusalem to Cesaria Maritima on the coast of
Palestine, and somehow got it on a ship. (Hey what are you
guys carrying in there? Oh nothing but a headless body. OK,
come aboard. nothing unusual about that.)
Then they sailed across the Mediterranean Sea, through the
straights of Gibraltar, and up the coast to Muxia. They carried
the body inland over several small mountains about 80 km (50
miles) and buried it in a field under the stars.
Then the grave was lost until 9 centuries later when a peasant
found the bones and the local bishop pronounced them to be the
bones of St James. So far so good.
In the defense of the legend, St Jerome (400s) says t hat the
apostles were to be buried where they evangelized. Most are.
Thomas for example is said to be in India, Peter in Rome. But
they died there.
The Spanish needed a patron saint so they adopted St James. In
Hebrew his name is Jacob. In Latin St James is Sant Iago ( no J
in Latin alphabet --- that's why there is no J street in DC cause
they used the Latin alphabet for the streets. But I digress.)
The Latin name Sant Iago became Santiago or sometimes
rendered San Diego.
Anyhow St. James became the patron of Spain. They invoked
him in all things, especially in driving out the Moors
(Moslems) over a 500 year effort. James became The Killer of
Moors or got the title "Matamoros." (The Moor killer). They
Donkey
Fruit Lady with her pink SEAT.
Donkeys seal stand.
seemed to win the battles when they invoked James.
Lots of times he is depicted as a knight on horse back with a
sword. In Mexico I once saw a life sized horse with a
Conquistador in armor on its back and a sign that said
"Santiago." I'm sure the Indians realized that these Spanish
mean business if that was their saint. Scary. But enough
history.
In the next post I will tell you about our visit to the Cathedral
which became the pilgrimage sight of the western world.
(There were four great pilgrimages: Jerusalem, Canterbury,
Rome, and Santiago. I've made all 4.)
Hundreds of thousands, millions, of pilgrims have walked this
path over the last 900 to 1000 years. Why? Penance, to
show love for God, to ask a favor or seek a cure, to find
their faith or to lose themselves. Take your pick.
Me? Why did I do this?
To rekindle my faith in God and the Church. It has done
that.
Also to seek guidance from the Holy Spirit for my next step
in life. Every painful step that was my prayer --- show me
the next step.
So now Marty has walked the full 800 km. I have walked
about 630 km, not counting all our asking around towns.
I'm tired. Tomorrow to Santiago to see the Apostle and get
his blessing and say good bye to our fellow pilgrims.
I am happy. I am sad. From now on I'm walking
everywhere. From now on I'm walking nowhere.
Photos to follow. Love to all.
Horse who came to the fence to say
hello to the slow guy. Wanted an
apple probably.
Medieval bridge at town called Puenta where
we went to mass. The young priest said
mass in 15 minutes. Marty thought it was
efficient. I hated it. He did was very
clearly, but fast.
Blue house. They like color here..
Cafe where I wrote some of this post
Side view of Roman bridge.
November 6 Santiago de Compostela, Spain ·
We are in Santiago. It is Sunday afternoon. We arrived
yesterday afternoon about 4 pm. Or 16:00 as Marty would
say.
The Camino is done. But really the Camino is never done.
There is always another step in this life or the next.
Arriving in Santiago was a relief and sad. The goal
accomplished but an empty feeling. What now?
The last 3 days of walking were intense, at least for me.
We went from O Coto to Arzua to Pedrouso to Santiago. Each
"etapa" (stage or leg) of the journey was about 20 to 23 km (12
to 14 miles). Exhausting for me but pretty easy for Marty who
was nearly always an hour or two ahead of me. My left foot
was swollen and in pain from arthritis. But I managed to walk
the last three or four days without a brace on either knee, a sign
that my ligaments are healed. Capt. Menez (Marty) on the last day
of the Camino.
The November rains have begun. We are told that they get
more than 200 days of rain here in Galicia. Wet and green. It
rained some of the time for the last three days of walking.
When Marty and I get separated I often wind up walking with
strangers who are slow movers. On Thursday I walked for a
while with a Spanish gentleman who was moving slowly
because he kept stopping to take pictures. His name is Eugenio,
(Eugene), 40 years old, married, 2 kids, banker, doing the
Camino in stages, and amateur photographer. We were both
bundled up in ponchos, so I could only see his face. But he was
handsome as a Mexican telenovela star, with a big mop of dark
hair. He seemed like a very happy person.
Of course my asking about him leads to him asking about me.
Once you tell someone you are a priest it gets one of three
reactions usually: hostility, flattery, or a blank stare like they just
met an extraterrestrial. He was not typical. Respectful of religion
and curious about my life and willing to talk about his own life.
I mention the conversation because for me this is what the Camino
is most about --- encuentro --- encounter. Meeting people is a kind
of spiritual communion.
When we pushed the last few km into Santiago, I found myself
getting more emotional. At Mt de Gozo --- Mount of Joy --- we
got our first glimpse of Santiago and the spire of the Cathedral.
The medieval pilgrims wrote about how filled with joy they were.
Some of them had walked for 3 or 4 years from as far away as
Scandinavia and Poland. Some would never go back.
On Mt de Gozo is a monument commemorating the visit of Pope
John Paul II. That was the time when he pleaded with Europe to
turn and rediscover itself and its roots in the faith. In many
ways the Camino made Europe. Pilgrims were granted safe
passage across borders. International efforts were made to
house and feed them, and the faith united them all across
culture and language.
When I got to the Plaza in front of the Cathedral I was
overcome with emotion. I knelt down on the pavement.
Couldn't speak. Marty came over and knelt next to me, put his
arm around me and said, "Well shipmate, we did it. We're
here." I could only nod.
Sign to Santiago.
Statue of Knight Templar guardian
of the Camino.
Seminary and Archbishop's palace
Santiago.
I stood up and start to walk across the plaza. Eugenio appeared out
of nowhere, gave me a hug and told us where to get credentials, our
Campostela, the certificate that we completed the pilgrimage.
We headed down to the pilgrim office and stood in line. They have
an efficient system with an electronic board telling you which
numbered station is open. They do interviews in 8 languages. Two
friendly guys helped Marty and I. No interrogation. They looked at
our credentials with all the many "sellos" (stamps or seals). I had
heard horror stories about how they question you. They just asked,
"Where did you start?" Sant Jean pied a port, we told them. "When
did you start?" September 14. "Why so long?" Because I am slow.
Then we explained about my ligaments and Marty's tendonitis, and
my blisters and arthritis. They waved their hands. Heard it all before.
All pilgrims come in limping.
When they gave me the two certificates with my name and
distance walked in Latin I burst into tears. I could not even say
thanks. I just shook the man's hand for an awkwardly long time
and waved goodbye.
Then we went to the Cathedral to visit the tomb of St James and
climb the stairs behind the high altar and embrace (from the rear)
the broad shoulders of the silver statue of James that looks down
on the altar and people in the Cathedral. Custom has it that you
make your requests to God through the saint. I put my forehead on
James's shoulder and prayed for the reconciliation of all in my
family and then said: " Show me the next step."
That night at 7:30 was a pilgrims' Mass. We visited
the huge sacristy and I got permission to
concelebrate. I was the only visiting priest. The
priest who celebrated was wonderfully friendly.
Spoke good English, told me he had worked in a
parish in New Rochelle, NY.
There was a deacon, Jose Martinez, who also spoke
perfect English. He is a native of Bogarde, Columbia
but had worked in NYC and has family in the states.
Next year he will be ordained a priest for the
Archdiocese of Santiago. We talked vocations. No
ordinations in Santiago last year. Only him next
year. They have 1200 parishes and only 500 priests.
Worse still the median age of priests in Santiago is 72.
Front of Cathedral under restoration. Marty
and I knelt down in the square there.
Eugenio and I in a selfie.
Me about to enter the door of pardon like
millions before me.
(In the US it is about 60). He said to pray for them --- the
church is in crisis. Spanish families are small. They don't
practice the faith. Vocations are not encouraged.
What a privilege to concelebrate from the high altar. The
priest introduced me. I read part of the Eucharistic prayer
in English. I helped with Communion.
Marty came up in my line which was nice. Just about the
last person in line, I looked up and there was Eugenio. I
smiled and said, "Eugenio, el cuerpo de Cristo." He said
amen, put the host in his mouth and then put his hand on
my shoulder and neck and gave me a squeeze. When we
processed out he was by the rope line taking photos. I
waved but didn't see him again. On the Camino people
come and go instantly.
As I was sitting in the sanctuary I thought of all the
millions of pilgrims who had come to that church in a
thousand years. The Knights who protected it. King
Ferdinand and Queen Isabela. St Bridget of Sweden.
Perhaps Columbus. Kings and Queens, nuns and friars
and millions of poor people. All coming to seek the face
of God in a hard journey and in their fellow pilgrims, to
do penance for sin, or seek forgiveness. They had all
done what we did---entered the Puerto del Perdon (door
of pardon), embraced the statue of James, and prayed at
his tomb.
Many had also seen the unique ritual of the
"butafimiero", the giant incense burner ( thurible) that
swings from the ceiling. It takes seven men to swing it
the length of the transept as the choir sings a prayer of
thanks to God. So they only do it on Sundays and feast
days. VIDEO - SWINGING THE BUTAFUMIERO
It is said it started because of the stench of the pilgrims.
The incense covered the smell of the pilgrims.
Tomorrow we go to Finisterre by bus. Cold and rain
here. No more hiking. Our tour guide around the square
this morning said that all the Americans go to Finisterre
because of the movie "The Way." She pointed out that
Martin Sheen's real name is Estevez and that his
grandfather was from this region of Galicia. Sort of a
Side entrance to The Cathedral.
About to swing the Butafumiero. See six guys
with ropes to the left.
tribute to his roots.
Don't know what to do next. Will be home by December 13.
Maybe earlier. Must stop now. Hands are freezing. Sitting in
an congested hallway tapping this out.
I remembered all family and friends and parishioners at Mass
and at the tomb of James the Apostle.
Love to all. Photos to follow.
Side view of the Cathedral from our hotel.
Our tour guide at Cathedral. All in Spanish.
Me in sacristy at Santiago
before Mass.