This is my closing blog of what has been a life-enhancing journey. So much said and so much not. I have struggled with knowing what to include and what is too personal, not just for myself but for others as well. Wisdom indeed has been needed and finding that line between being real and honest about difficulties and not being too 'in the face'.
I laughed at myself yesterday as I was walking behind 2 young men, one of whom had his trousers half way down his legs so I stared at his underpants the whole time I walked behind him. All very fashionable in the city but a little inappropriate for The Camino perhaps. Anyway I hate this fashion- always have done. I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR PANTS (or skid marks!!) Is this my last test of 'go with the flow'? Anyway I eventually pass him and say a cheery ' Lovely red underpants you have on today'. He smiles sheepishly. Then today walking into Santiago I see him again. Amazingly he has learnt how to do his belt up.
I actually arrived yeaterday as I wanted to finish my own Camino before I meet Steve to walk to Finisterre tomorrow. We shall attend the Pilgrim Mass together in the Cathedral which I have not yet been in. Most Pilgrims go straight there but for me God is not primarily in that building but in the cafes and bars and streets outside it. I mostly feel a certain amount of discomfort in churches and if I was the Archbishop of Canterbury I would sell off the buildings to the Conservationists- they can have them and spend all their resources maintaining bricks and mortar, instead of hearts.Just as well there is not much chance of that happening then!
A film crew were filming outside the mighty Seminario Menor when I arrived. This is described in my book as a soul- less Alburgue. It is a magnificent building and I enjoyed the anonymity it afforded me.The Seminario was shut when I arrived so I spent 1/2 hr watching the film crew do their stuff. How utterly BANAL it all seemed in comparison to the journey that these pilgrims were finishing. Take after take after take of the same scene with the make up and hair artists dashing in between shots to adjust a hair or apply a little powder to the actors. It was utterly DULL. So much attention to so little.
I feel so strengthened by my journey- at least inwardly. Outwardly I have a streaming cold and as I crossed the motorway into Santigo my nose was streaming, my eyes were streaming, my throat feels like a rasp has been taken down it and my chest hurts. An onlooker would have thought it was a highly emotional moment for me and in some ways it was. The roar of the traffic I found frightening but inwardly I thought 'YES I have walked 800km across Spain on my own' and with that came a feeling of elation.
Eugene Peterson writes, in The Message, at the introduction to Job
'Real faith cannot be reduced to spiritual bromides and merchandised in success stories. It is refined in the fires and the storms of pain'. This is so true. I have dwelt in Romans 8:18-28 and for me these passages are not about ecology at all but about growing in grace ourselves- being pregnant and enlarging so our capacity to recieve from God is increased and our capacity to enter into a suffering world and bring the light of Christ is also increased. How many people I have met who are so lost and deeply hurting and do not know the deep love of God and HOPE that He brings. Their stories are not over and can indeed be transformed. I finish with some scripture that is so dear to me because I have found it to be true at every level of my life. I have lived this not just on a spiritual plane but a very concrete one too:
The Spirit of God, the Master is on me, because God anointed me. He sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the broken hearted, Announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners. .....and to comfort all who mourn, To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them boquets of roses instead of ashes, Messages of joy instead of news of doom, a praising heart instead of a languid spirit. Rename them 'Oaks of Righteousness' planted by God to display his glory.
God has bound up my broken heart not as some meta physical concept but as a living reality. I love Him so much.
Katex
Friday, 3 June 2011
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Letting Go
Letting go of things starts on day 2 on The Camino. Backpacks are scrutinised and ALL surplus stuff is dumped. Shops and materialism hold no allure as you have to carry whatever you buy, so you don't even bother going there!
Letting go of yellow arrows which are the markers for the route takes a little longer particularly when passing through cities- if you let one go you may not find another one but you cannot move forward unless you do. They are much harder to spot in the cities as so many other things contend with them.
Then there is the leting go of people, some of whom you walk with for a few days and many who you walk with briefly. People invariably form into groups and these groups eat together in the evenings, even if they walk alone during the day. This works well for many but I opted out as I wanted the freedom to choose on the spur of the moment. Eventually you have to let go of the people as well as we are all returning to other lives, even if these will now involve reunions at a later date.
Then there are the deeper 'lettings go' of ways of thinking or bad habits; Snoring drove me demented to begin with but now it doesn't bother me a bit and this is very releasing for me! Likewise I have beautiful nails, nearly as beautiful as Liz's although they keep splitting after 40 yrs of chewing!
Then there are the deeper things again, like lack of forgiveness. My inbox has now been cleared and not by my own effort but by a reliance on the very practical help of the Holy Spirit. One day I had an amazing 'seeing', an insight of things. The small picture of the reality in which I live was expanded to see a much much greater reality of what actually IS. This reality is full of LIFE and LOVE. It is teeming out from a never ending life source and it is SO big that all the pain and suffering of all creation through all times is so infinitesimally small in comparison that it is swallowed up. No I have not been taking e tablets or any other drug! Those of you who are in pain at the moment I know it doesn't FEEL like this could be the truth but there it was. Not an experience of the mind primarily but one of the heart- a knowing, a seeing of what IS. This has answered for me 2 deep theological questions I have struggled with; why did God create man knowing all the pain and suffering that was going to result?- in other words the shadow side and secondly, what about the relativity of sin, meaning that some sins seem so much worse than others so how can sin be all the same? In the true reality both questions were answered, the second being 'a stain is a stain'.
Perhaps for me, the most special moment on the Camino was when the veil between this world and the next was momentarily drawn back and I was in the presence of Bethan. I have been at peace about her death for years, knowing from the beginning that Christ wept with me over the loss of this baby and that she is safe in the arms of God. But a shimmering in the wind and a movement of the wheat field with a quiet whisper and there we were together and for a long moment our spirits gently touched, each knowing the other. She is well and happy. As I write this I well up with tears because it was an incredible moment but the loss will always be just that- a terrible loss and at one level that pain never goes away. Nor should it. It was never meant to be in the true sense and written on all our hearts is the knowledge of all those things that were never meant to be- pre the fall.
This was so important for me because I was under the belief that if you truly forgive then the wound inflicted will not hurt anymore. This is not true. Our hearts know and long for what we lost so long ago and all those things that happen that are against life and love 'jar' causing deep unrest and dischord. Healing for sure can occur but forgiving IS NOT forgetting and I think pain will always remain. This I have found liberating. It is ok for it to still hurt. It does not indicate a lack of peace and acceptance.
Much Love, Kate
Letting go of yellow arrows which are the markers for the route takes a little longer particularly when passing through cities- if you let one go you may not find another one but you cannot move forward unless you do. They are much harder to spot in the cities as so many other things contend with them.
Then there is the leting go of people, some of whom you walk with for a few days and many who you walk with briefly. People invariably form into groups and these groups eat together in the evenings, even if they walk alone during the day. This works well for many but I opted out as I wanted the freedom to choose on the spur of the moment. Eventually you have to let go of the people as well as we are all returning to other lives, even if these will now involve reunions at a later date.
Then there are the deeper 'lettings go' of ways of thinking or bad habits; Snoring drove me demented to begin with but now it doesn't bother me a bit and this is very releasing for me! Likewise I have beautiful nails, nearly as beautiful as Liz's although they keep splitting after 40 yrs of chewing!
Then there are the deeper things again, like lack of forgiveness. My inbox has now been cleared and not by my own effort but by a reliance on the very practical help of the Holy Spirit. One day I had an amazing 'seeing', an insight of things. The small picture of the reality in which I live was expanded to see a much much greater reality of what actually IS. This reality is full of LIFE and LOVE. It is teeming out from a never ending life source and it is SO big that all the pain and suffering of all creation through all times is so infinitesimally small in comparison that it is swallowed up. No I have not been taking e tablets or any other drug! Those of you who are in pain at the moment I know it doesn't FEEL like this could be the truth but there it was. Not an experience of the mind primarily but one of the heart- a knowing, a seeing of what IS. This has answered for me 2 deep theological questions I have struggled with; why did God create man knowing all the pain and suffering that was going to result?- in other words the shadow side and secondly, what about the relativity of sin, meaning that some sins seem so much worse than others so how can sin be all the same? In the true reality both questions were answered, the second being 'a stain is a stain'.
Perhaps for me, the most special moment on the Camino was when the veil between this world and the next was momentarily drawn back and I was in the presence of Bethan. I have been at peace about her death for years, knowing from the beginning that Christ wept with me over the loss of this baby and that she is safe in the arms of God. But a shimmering in the wind and a movement of the wheat field with a quiet whisper and there we were together and for a long moment our spirits gently touched, each knowing the other. She is well and happy. As I write this I well up with tears because it was an incredible moment but the loss will always be just that- a terrible loss and at one level that pain never goes away. Nor should it. It was never meant to be in the true sense and written on all our hearts is the knowledge of all those things that were never meant to be- pre the fall.
This was so important for me because I was under the belief that if you truly forgive then the wound inflicted will not hurt anymore. This is not true. Our hearts know and long for what we lost so long ago and all those things that happen that are against life and love 'jar' causing deep unrest and dischord. Healing for sure can occur but forgiving IS NOT forgetting and I think pain will always remain. This I have found liberating. It is ok for it to still hurt. It does not indicate a lack of peace and acceptance.
Much Love, Kate
Glorious Galicia and Gratitude
Galicia is wet and windy and very green- very much like home really. It is full of happy farm animals that wander around freely, including on The Camino! The farmers and their wives look beautiful, like gnarled and aged old trees full of years. They wear peasant clothing and offer endless smiles and 'Buen Camino' as they herd their sheep and cows from one side of The Camino to the other. Ah and the smell! I love the smell of haylage and cow pooh. It is so earthy, so organic, so life giving. I have even seen happy pigs here snortling around in grass, then, as if standing for any length of time is just too much effort they flop and their whole enormous weight gives a gratifying solid thud sound as they hit the ground. They will stand for a deep scratch or two from a passing pelegrino but just as quickly grunt as if to say 'enough' and move away. I could happily live here particularly as the local wine in the restaurants is only 2.5 euros a BOTTLE! (have I told you this numerous times ?!) Sadly at lunch yesterday I actually had to leave half a bottle as even I cannot walk after a whole bottle. Actually I think its alcoholic content is much lower than what I drink at home because I have never felt even slightly tipsy after imbibing the stuff.
Gratitude for what I have come to understand about my own journey through listening to Francessca, who I left 3 days ago. I needed to finish my Camino alone. I have struggled with understanding how people can lie so deeply and still live with themselves. In one simple sentence Francessca tells me that she learnt to lie from her mum, who hid things from her despotic father. Her mum wanted to give her children good things and they were very poor so she gave them behind his back and told her children not to tell him. From this Francessca learnt that it was fine to lie to your partner- afterall it was in a good cause and still she struggles with this behaviour today. She has not told her husband who she is separated from that she is having an affair. The rational, the justification for this is that she 'doesn't want to hurt him' I suggest its more to do with self-protection and she agrees and says that when you lie, the person you lie to first and foremost all the time is yourself. Her affair is understandable in human terms- her husband has grown up in an emotionally cold home and lacks emotional processing skills, particularly re negative feelings. He is addicted to porn- an oh so ready resource of 'comfort'. She has no problem with porn per se but she does have a problem with the sexual acts he wants to do that she does not- and he never stops asking and hoping. She has agreed on occasion but each time it has caused her so much distress that she has completely stopped initiating any love-making, dreading what may be requested. This has slowly 'killed' her love for her husband. Her desperate need to be loved has been met in the arms of an Italian, who, incidentally, she is also lying to. I am truly SO SO grateful that I know the love of God. I am so truly grateful that if we follow in His ways they are life giving- even when we don't feel like it. I am truly grateful that 'there by the GRACE of God go I'. Francessca puts our different paths down to the fact that I am a strong person and she is not but I suggest that we have the same God and all that is available to me is also available to her- if she truly seeks she WILL find.
Lucas suggests that having children makes all the difference and this I agree does make a difference. Poor Francessca is in such a pickle as she has been with her husband since she was 17- a long history to let go but she cannot bear the status quo, even less so now she has found another man. Her husband is wealthy and succesful and independent to the point that he needs no help. Her lover is poor. What should she do? She has been in counselling for 2 years and still cannot decide, vacillating daily with stress levels sky high. I hope she finds her answer.
Much love, Kate
Gratitude for what I have come to understand about my own journey through listening to Francessca, who I left 3 days ago. I needed to finish my Camino alone. I have struggled with understanding how people can lie so deeply and still live with themselves. In one simple sentence Francessca tells me that she learnt to lie from her mum, who hid things from her despotic father. Her mum wanted to give her children good things and they were very poor so she gave them behind his back and told her children not to tell him. From this Francessca learnt that it was fine to lie to your partner- afterall it was in a good cause and still she struggles with this behaviour today. She has not told her husband who she is separated from that she is having an affair. The rational, the justification for this is that she 'doesn't want to hurt him' I suggest its more to do with self-protection and she agrees and says that when you lie, the person you lie to first and foremost all the time is yourself. Her affair is understandable in human terms- her husband has grown up in an emotionally cold home and lacks emotional processing skills, particularly re negative feelings. He is addicted to porn- an oh so ready resource of 'comfort'. She has no problem with porn per se but she does have a problem with the sexual acts he wants to do that she does not- and he never stops asking and hoping. She has agreed on occasion but each time it has caused her so much distress that she has completely stopped initiating any love-making, dreading what may be requested. This has slowly 'killed' her love for her husband. Her desperate need to be loved has been met in the arms of an Italian, who, incidentally, she is also lying to. I am truly SO SO grateful that I know the love of God. I am so truly grateful that if we follow in His ways they are life giving- even when we don't feel like it. I am truly grateful that 'there by the GRACE of God go I'. Francessca puts our different paths down to the fact that I am a strong person and she is not but I suggest that we have the same God and all that is available to me is also available to her- if she truly seeks she WILL find.
Lucas suggests that having children makes all the difference and this I agree does make a difference. Poor Francessca is in such a pickle as she has been with her husband since she was 17- a long history to let go but she cannot bear the status quo, even less so now she has found another man. Her husband is wealthy and succesful and independent to the point that he needs no help. Her lover is poor. What should she do? She has been in counselling for 2 years and still cannot decide, vacillating daily with stress levels sky high. I hope she finds her answer.
Much love, Kate
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Famished and Feminine
I have walked 48km today, I am 'wiped out' and oh so happy! I am so happy because no longer do I have a negative response to so many minor things in life that once upon a time would have evoked such stuff, such as snoring or no 'room at the Inn'. I just think 'oh well, may as well smile and carry on because the situation isn't going to change'. I can only change my response. This is so liberating. So little 'Pollyanna' here is becoming unfazed by more or less anything (reminds me of our retired vicar!)
I arrived at an Albergue out in the sticks at 3pm to be informed that they had no food and we had to cook ourselves. My shoulders are so painful that I do not carry any excess weight and food is definitely excess- I eat out all the time, because Spain is so cheap compared to home and feeding 1 is nothing compared to feeding 6. Actually, last night, Ray, who I met on arrival at St Jean, is in a group of 4 people. They have all cooked together and eaten, but he is keen to 'give' and off he goes to re-heat their left overs and fill my glass with wine. It was a pure gift to recieve so much from him and his friends- he even did my washing up for me! (this is no mean feat for a single 32yr old)
So I walk to Melide. The Alburgue is a municipal affair which means low cost, low customer service, but that is ok with me. It is, after all, only 5euros for a bed and a shower. I have not eaten since 11am, when I had a croissant and I can barely function. I try phoning Steve but have nothing left and realise that my body really needs some attention, namely calories.
So, showered and re-clothed I wander off to find the restaurant recommended by John Brierly- the guru of the Camino, called 'Exequiel'. This specialises in octopus. Not knowing a language is not a problem,I have found, if you smile at people and ask them slowly, using lots of sign language, where something is. Many people laugh at my pronunciation, or maybe me, but I laugh too, so that is ok. So much so that many Spaniards have walked way out of their way to show me the route, including what looked like a 90 yr old lady yesterday, up a steep pathway.
On entering the restaurant I spot George and Julia from Hungary, who I had seen, many times pre food poisoning. I ask if I can join them and order the 'pelegrino menu', which does not include octopus but which the restauranters will let us have if we do not have 'postre' (pudding). I also order another bottle of wine, since I know my own glugability of the stuff is great. I am famished and knock back the 'Caledo Gallega' (veg soup), with massive hunks of bread and ask for more- with a smile! Then comes the octopus, which is exotic, entertaining and tasteless, but there is loads of it straight from a steaming pot, covered in salt, paprika and olive oil, all washed down with glass after glass of good Spanish wine. Still my body wants more so I ask a lovely young man for the 'queso con membranillo', which is basically cheese and potted sweet fruit (like quince or mulberry) and he gives me so much that there is enough for 3, so we all tuck in eagerly until it is all gone. My Hungarian friends are worried as they say desert is not included, but I ressure them that I will pay for what I have eaten and in any case it is much better to ask the men than the women, as they are so kind. The women are 'much harder'.
So I ask for my bill and just like the winery the bill does not depend on what you have eaten but what gender you are and if you smile. My bill, including a desert and an extra bottle of wine comes to less than the set pelegrino menu- a miracle indeed, or maybe just a lesson on when to look up and smile at the person who is 'in charge' and deciding what to charge you!!
The world is certainly not a fair place- sorry chaps.
Learning about Hungary was also a real joy- an emerging 1st world country with a huge past and history. It all takes time, to heal, to change, to be ready to be a democracy.
Much love, Katex
I arrived at an Albergue out in the sticks at 3pm to be informed that they had no food and we had to cook ourselves. My shoulders are so painful that I do not carry any excess weight and food is definitely excess- I eat out all the time, because Spain is so cheap compared to home and feeding 1 is nothing compared to feeding 6. Actually, last night, Ray, who I met on arrival at St Jean, is in a group of 4 people. They have all cooked together and eaten, but he is keen to 'give' and off he goes to re-heat their left overs and fill my glass with wine. It was a pure gift to recieve so much from him and his friends- he even did my washing up for me! (this is no mean feat for a single 32yr old)
So I walk to Melide. The Alburgue is a municipal affair which means low cost, low customer service, but that is ok with me. It is, after all, only 5euros for a bed and a shower. I have not eaten since 11am, when I had a croissant and I can barely function. I try phoning Steve but have nothing left and realise that my body really needs some attention, namely calories.
So, showered and re-clothed I wander off to find the restaurant recommended by John Brierly- the guru of the Camino, called 'Exequiel'. This specialises in octopus. Not knowing a language is not a problem,I have found, if you smile at people and ask them slowly, using lots of sign language, where something is. Many people laugh at my pronunciation, or maybe me, but I laugh too, so that is ok. So much so that many Spaniards have walked way out of their way to show me the route, including what looked like a 90 yr old lady yesterday, up a steep pathway.
On entering the restaurant I spot George and Julia from Hungary, who I had seen, many times pre food poisoning. I ask if I can join them and order the 'pelegrino menu', which does not include octopus but which the restauranters will let us have if we do not have 'postre' (pudding). I also order another bottle of wine, since I know my own glugability of the stuff is great. I am famished and knock back the 'Caledo Gallega' (veg soup), with massive hunks of bread and ask for more- with a smile! Then comes the octopus, which is exotic, entertaining and tasteless, but there is loads of it straight from a steaming pot, covered in salt, paprika and olive oil, all washed down with glass after glass of good Spanish wine. Still my body wants more so I ask a lovely young man for the 'queso con membranillo', which is basically cheese and potted sweet fruit (like quince or mulberry) and he gives me so much that there is enough for 3, so we all tuck in eagerly until it is all gone. My Hungarian friends are worried as they say desert is not included, but I ressure them that I will pay for what I have eaten and in any case it is much better to ask the men than the women, as they are so kind. The women are 'much harder'.
So I ask for my bill and just like the winery the bill does not depend on what you have eaten but what gender you are and if you smile. My bill, including a desert and an extra bottle of wine comes to less than the set pelegrino menu- a miracle indeed, or maybe just a lesson on when to look up and smile at the person who is 'in charge' and deciding what to charge you!!
The world is certainly not a fair place- sorry chaps.
Learning about Hungary was also a real joy- an emerging 1st world country with a huge past and history. It all takes time, to heal, to change, to be ready to be a democracy.
Much love, Katex
Monday, 30 May 2011
Spanish Signorita
There I am sitting at the bar in O'Cerbreiro, waitjing for the overworked and underpaid (and it is FAR too early for any self-respecting Spaniard to be out of bed) bar tender to serve me. I have nothing on her when it comes to early morning blues- she is SO GRUMPY. All the used plates get banged around, the dishwasher is flung open, loaded and slammed shut and she totally ignores whoever is waiting at the bar for the paltry 'cafe con leche and tostada'. Hence this is repeated 3x and all the crockery and cutlery is sparkly clean as she hasn't actually given anyone a drink in a long while. The whole shenanigan reminds of the electric bus service in Zermatt where the point of the bus service is not to transport people at all- oh no, it is to be ON TIME! So if the bus is running late it just drives past all the queueing people until it catches up with its time schedule when it will deign to actually stop again and pick a passenger up!
She has ignored us all for so long that there is an enormous queue to pay 3 euros for a piece of toast and a coffee. The pelegrinos, who are normally so good tempered are also fed up waiting and the general atmosphere is a little tense. This is the only bar open at 6.30am.
Eventually it is my turn so I put in my order only to be requested by a friend to order for 2 other people as well. That is a step too far for this signorita so in return I recieve a mouthful in Spanish, which , blissfully, I understand not a word.
There I sit with 3 coffees, two of them doubles and a cafe con leche. At first I expect said friends to arrive any moment, after a while I cover the cups with the saucers and then, after a pointed finger and another mouthful of myrthful Spanish from our signorita, I start to drink all the coffee.This pleases the signorita no end especially as having downed all 3 coffees my friends arrive and she can go through the whole delaying process all over again. The problem is I am actually buzzing by now, so much so that I do not stop for another coffee all morning,-which is how I get to meet John.
John is from Melbourne, Australia and has been travelling as a life occupation for the last 5 years since he decided to retire early. He is married but is pragmatic as to this saying he would not BE married today if he was required to stay at home. He spends many months living in other countries across the world and he is rather reluctant to disclose how all this works with family and married life generally. As usual on The Camino we get talking about the deeper things of life quickly and without needing to know anything about him I am urged onto a conversation about affairs and adultery.
He talks in the 3rd person, he discusses 'friends' and their problems and their different takes on such matters and he keeps it all at arms length whilst apparently discussing this topic. I share my own story briefly and he seems very intense in his listening. He wants to know what the living reality of 'the grace of Christ' means to me, which is surprising as he believes in 'nada, nothing'. He is not perturbed by the thought of death. He never thinks or dwells on the spiritual. He does not believe in a Creator of any kind. None of it concerns him. Neither of us argues or disputes any point of the other and after a short while he says he is going to stop for a while so I go on.
Later, whilst I am eating my squid and salad John walks by. I think nothing of it until 10 mins later he re-appears and says 'Kate, that conversation- it was really something else. Thank you. Goodbye!'
I have no idea what it meant to him and I don't need to. It was a 'passing in the night' to me.
Much love, Kate
She has ignored us all for so long that there is an enormous queue to pay 3 euros for a piece of toast and a coffee. The pelegrinos, who are normally so good tempered are also fed up waiting and the general atmosphere is a little tense. This is the only bar open at 6.30am.
Eventually it is my turn so I put in my order only to be requested by a friend to order for 2 other people as well. That is a step too far for this signorita so in return I recieve a mouthful in Spanish, which , blissfully, I understand not a word.
There I sit with 3 coffees, two of them doubles and a cafe con leche. At first I expect said friends to arrive any moment, after a while I cover the cups with the saucers and then, after a pointed finger and another mouthful of myrthful Spanish from our signorita, I start to drink all the coffee.This pleases the signorita no end especially as having downed all 3 coffees my friends arrive and she can go through the whole delaying process all over again. The problem is I am actually buzzing by now, so much so that I do not stop for another coffee all morning,-which is how I get to meet John.
John is from Melbourne, Australia and has been travelling as a life occupation for the last 5 years since he decided to retire early. He is married but is pragmatic as to this saying he would not BE married today if he was required to stay at home. He spends many months living in other countries across the world and he is rather reluctant to disclose how all this works with family and married life generally. As usual on The Camino we get talking about the deeper things of life quickly and without needing to know anything about him I am urged onto a conversation about affairs and adultery.
He talks in the 3rd person, he discusses 'friends' and their problems and their different takes on such matters and he keeps it all at arms length whilst apparently discussing this topic. I share my own story briefly and he seems very intense in his listening. He wants to know what the living reality of 'the grace of Christ' means to me, which is surprising as he believes in 'nada, nothing'. He is not perturbed by the thought of death. He never thinks or dwells on the spiritual. He does not believe in a Creator of any kind. None of it concerns him. Neither of us argues or disputes any point of the other and after a short while he says he is going to stop for a while so I go on.
Later, whilst I am eating my squid and salad John walks by. I think nothing of it until 10 mins later he re-appears and says 'Kate, that conversation- it was really something else. Thank you. Goodbye!'
I have no idea what it meant to him and I don't need to. It was a 'passing in the night' to me.
Much love, Kate
Wineries and Waifs
The countryside in the juntas of Castilla and Galicia are full of vineyards and so one day, just past Ponteferrada we decide to stop at a winery- after all it is free tasting plus a guided tour for the sum total of 1 euro.
Ricardo starts the tour by informing us that his wine factory was set up in 1963 to which I reply that this is my birth year. He refutes that this cannot be and says to me very slowly '1963'. I say 'Si-1963', upon which he whips out his i-phone and demands to know the name of the cosmetics brand that I use because whatever I use works- 'how marketable they would be if I would appear on their adverts' he says. Unfortunately I do not use any on a daily basis and only wash my face with soap and water- much cheaper. He then asks me from where do I get my 'glow' then and not to miss an oppertunity I tell him that that probably comes from being loved by God. He is not at all happy with this response and tells me in no uncertain terms that 'being loved by God is not marketable, not at all and shoves his iphone back in his pocket. He gives us a great tour, followed by an 'emparchada' (spanish pie) and some lovely wine. He informs us that mostly, expensive wine is an utter con. The price is set not by how it tastes or how difficult it is to produce but by a board meeting in which the 'bigwigs' decide what they can get away with! He finishes the tour with a request that 'the glowing lady from England' will do a house swap with him and his family. He repeats this 3x and presses his card on me but he is offering a small flat in Ponteferrada that sleeps only 4, so I say I am doubtful, which he takes in such good humour by offering us all another glass of wine.
I met Lance the following day having a 'roll up' outside a bar, along the Camino. I laughed and said 'You need food not a fag, Lance' to which Francessca retorted 'And have you cleaned your teeth today Lance, mummy Kate wants to know'. So that put me in my place, but I am seriously concerned for this young man. He is emaciated, he has no money and the little he has he spends on fags. He is in such emotional pain from a broken relationship with a woman that he doesn't care if he dies early, he tells me. Later I am having squid and salad at lunchtime in a bar and he is standing at the doorway as it pours down. I invite him in to join me and share my meal but he won't. I leave some squid and tell him that its a shame that it will just be binned. He is not sure if he believes me or not but eventually takes it. I have NOT talked to Lance at all about God- he has been to a big name bible college in America and has a degree in Philosophy. He has had many 'words' about fundamental Christianity (most of which I would probably disagree) but he is just hurting too much and what he needs is food not talk. Whilst I am in the loo I get a prompt from God to 'love him' by giving him money and so begins a conversation with Lance in which I try and give him money for food.
'No No' he says, 'I have chosen this. I have chosen to walk The Camino on nothing. I have chosen to be here like this'. I agree with him but try and tell him that this is not from me but God, who loves him very much. He refuses and I apologise that he must do as he wishes and it is so wrong of me to try and force a gift on him. A gift is just that- a gift and he has a choice so I will leave it on his backpack and if he still chooses to not accept it please could he pass it onto someone who needs some money for food.
I walk away with the words shouted behind me 'I hate you - no I don't, what I mean is God Bless you Kate' I raise my sticks in reply and go on my way.
Much Love, Kate
Ricardo starts the tour by informing us that his wine factory was set up in 1963 to which I reply that this is my birth year. He refutes that this cannot be and says to me very slowly '1963'. I say 'Si-1963', upon which he whips out his i-phone and demands to know the name of the cosmetics brand that I use because whatever I use works- 'how marketable they would be if I would appear on their adverts' he says. Unfortunately I do not use any on a daily basis and only wash my face with soap and water- much cheaper. He then asks me from where do I get my 'glow' then and not to miss an oppertunity I tell him that that probably comes from being loved by God. He is not at all happy with this response and tells me in no uncertain terms that 'being loved by God is not marketable, not at all and shoves his iphone back in his pocket. He gives us a great tour, followed by an 'emparchada' (spanish pie) and some lovely wine. He informs us that mostly, expensive wine is an utter con. The price is set not by how it tastes or how difficult it is to produce but by a board meeting in which the 'bigwigs' decide what they can get away with! He finishes the tour with a request that 'the glowing lady from England' will do a house swap with him and his family. He repeats this 3x and presses his card on me but he is offering a small flat in Ponteferrada that sleeps only 4, so I say I am doubtful, which he takes in such good humour by offering us all another glass of wine.
I met Lance the following day having a 'roll up' outside a bar, along the Camino. I laughed and said 'You need food not a fag, Lance' to which Francessca retorted 'And have you cleaned your teeth today Lance, mummy Kate wants to know'. So that put me in my place, but I am seriously concerned for this young man. He is emaciated, he has no money and the little he has he spends on fags. He is in such emotional pain from a broken relationship with a woman that he doesn't care if he dies early, he tells me. Later I am having squid and salad at lunchtime in a bar and he is standing at the doorway as it pours down. I invite him in to join me and share my meal but he won't. I leave some squid and tell him that its a shame that it will just be binned. He is not sure if he believes me or not but eventually takes it. I have NOT talked to Lance at all about God- he has been to a big name bible college in America and has a degree in Philosophy. He has had many 'words' about fundamental Christianity (most of which I would probably disagree) but he is just hurting too much and what he needs is food not talk. Whilst I am in the loo I get a prompt from God to 'love him' by giving him money and so begins a conversation with Lance in which I try and give him money for food.
'No No' he says, 'I have chosen this. I have chosen to walk The Camino on nothing. I have chosen to be here like this'. I agree with him but try and tell him that this is not from me but God, who loves him very much. He refuses and I apologise that he must do as he wishes and it is so wrong of me to try and force a gift on him. A gift is just that- a gift and he has a choice so I will leave it on his backpack and if he still chooses to not accept it please could he pass it onto someone who needs some money for food.
I walk away with the words shouted behind me 'I hate you - no I don't, what I mean is God Bless you Kate' I raise my sticks in reply and go on my way.
Much Love, Kate
Crazy Coot Kate
The walk from Villafranca to O'Cebreiro had 3 options- the easy road way, the going into the woods way and the 'path less travelled way', which I am re-naming the 'complete insanity route'. But ignorance and high spirits are bliss. The night before I am mustering support for 'the road less travelled' and peoples response is 'Oh Kate isn't 800km enough without making life even harder?'. The Camino is not a difficult path to walk as walking goes. Certainly not compared to the walks I have undertaken in Britain, so I think I am up for a bit of a challenge, so am a little disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm by my fellow pelegrinos, but 3 of us decide to 'go for it'. Little did I know!
All starts well but with a steep ascent albeit along a country road. It doesn't take long before we have to get out a compass and start triangulating but at this point the walking path is reasonably clear. 1 hr into the walk we need a scythe each and in a couple of weeks this way would be completely impassable. But that is not all. There are no waymarkers and the 'route' is up 3 mountains and down 4 valleys. When I say 'up' I mean it. My legs are torn to shreds and the patches that are not, are stung by copious nettles. By 12.30 pm I am knackered- we have been walking for 6 hrs and have only covered a third of our journey for that day. We have ascended and descended 1100 metres and there is still a climb of 600m at the very end of this walk. Dan, bless him, has offered to carry my food and water and paclite jacket but I am on an 'independent Kate day' so I refuse. Lance is a 27yr old bean pole from America, who has bought with him precisely 1 breadroll for this mega-hike. The bread roll is just that- nothing in it, just bread. I have bought nuts and cereal bars and Dan has bought 'the supermarket'.
I start having grumpy thoughts about Lance such as ' I cannot eat what I have bought, whilst he just eats a piece of bread. I really resent this feeling of responsibility towards this completely inadequately prepared MAN- he is 27 yrs old, why should I bail him out? Gnas gnash, nark, nark' Then the other side of the argument gets a voice- 'you are in this together Kate' and I think of the memories that have flooded my mind all morning of my sons, my own biological sons and the fun we have had around the world, camping, hiking, playing football etc. Then the oh small whisper comes- 'This is your son for today. Treat him as you would if he were Josh' Well I would lay down my life for any of my children, so this completely changes my attitude towards Lance. Really it happened just like that and it felt so good, so liberating. Mean-mindedness is so life sucking. So at lunchtime we spread a 'table' by a fountain and had a feast of cheese and fresh bread (an artisan panneria van turned up at this moment!) and fruit and nuts and cereal bars and we all had our fill and it was like Jesus with the loaves and fishes that feed an entire crowd.
We still had a hell of a walk to complete and were so grateful to hit The Camino again, knowing that in comparison to what we had just walked it would be easy. Lance was desperate not to miss the Barca vs Man Utd match so took off as soon as we reached civilisation, but Dan was bushed so at 2km outside our destination he asks if I will bail out with him as the Alburgue owner here will let us stay up and watch the entire match (Alburgue lights out are normally at 10pm).
So it is with great delight that evening that I find myself in a bar in a remote country area of Castilla, watching the match with not only the local farmers, but a representation of men from across Europe (other pelegrinos), a few gnarled and aged Spanish grandparents and a handful of Spanish children. Outside the door a herd of beautiful bovines pass, leaving a lovely country aroma. All these Spanish people want Man United to win as they hate the Catalans! This English Pelegrino wants Barca to win because she nominally supports Liverpool and so we all laugh together because the Spaniards are chanting Man U and I am chanting Barca and you know it was just as 'HOLY' a moment as the service for pelegrinos that I had shared in a week ago.
Much love, Kate
All starts well but with a steep ascent albeit along a country road. It doesn't take long before we have to get out a compass and start triangulating but at this point the walking path is reasonably clear. 1 hr into the walk we need a scythe each and in a couple of weeks this way would be completely impassable. But that is not all. There are no waymarkers and the 'route' is up 3 mountains and down 4 valleys. When I say 'up' I mean it. My legs are torn to shreds and the patches that are not, are stung by copious nettles. By 12.30 pm I am knackered- we have been walking for 6 hrs and have only covered a third of our journey for that day. We have ascended and descended 1100 metres and there is still a climb of 600m at the very end of this walk. Dan, bless him, has offered to carry my food and water and paclite jacket but I am on an 'independent Kate day' so I refuse. Lance is a 27yr old bean pole from America, who has bought with him precisely 1 breadroll for this mega-hike. The bread roll is just that- nothing in it, just bread. I have bought nuts and cereal bars and Dan has bought 'the supermarket'.
I start having grumpy thoughts about Lance such as ' I cannot eat what I have bought, whilst he just eats a piece of bread. I really resent this feeling of responsibility towards this completely inadequately prepared MAN- he is 27 yrs old, why should I bail him out? Gnas gnash, nark, nark' Then the other side of the argument gets a voice- 'you are in this together Kate' and I think of the memories that have flooded my mind all morning of my sons, my own biological sons and the fun we have had around the world, camping, hiking, playing football etc. Then the oh small whisper comes- 'This is your son for today. Treat him as you would if he were Josh' Well I would lay down my life for any of my children, so this completely changes my attitude towards Lance. Really it happened just like that and it felt so good, so liberating. Mean-mindedness is so life sucking. So at lunchtime we spread a 'table' by a fountain and had a feast of cheese and fresh bread (an artisan panneria van turned up at this moment!) and fruit and nuts and cereal bars and we all had our fill and it was like Jesus with the loaves and fishes that feed an entire crowd.
We still had a hell of a walk to complete and were so grateful to hit The Camino again, knowing that in comparison to what we had just walked it would be easy. Lance was desperate not to miss the Barca vs Man Utd match so took off as soon as we reached civilisation, but Dan was bushed so at 2km outside our destination he asks if I will bail out with him as the Alburgue owner here will let us stay up and watch the entire match (Alburgue lights out are normally at 10pm).
So it is with great delight that evening that I find myself in a bar in a remote country area of Castilla, watching the match with not only the local farmers, but a representation of men from across Europe (other pelegrinos), a few gnarled and aged Spanish grandparents and a handful of Spanish children. Outside the door a herd of beautiful bovines pass, leaving a lovely country aroma. All these Spanish people want Man United to win as they hate the Catalans! This English Pelegrino wants Barca to win because she nominally supports Liverpool and so we all laugh together because the Spaniards are chanting Man U and I am chanting Barca and you know it was just as 'HOLY' a moment as the service for pelegrinos that I had shared in a week ago.
Much love, Kate
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