Back from the peace and reflection

It's been a week since I last blogged on my El Camino pages.

Obviously my initial promise to keep you all updated never worked out. On my last post, I explained why. I felt so totally consumed with love for God, and my faith, and for once, I wasn't willing to share it with people, except those with whom were also on a true pilgrimage. I'd never felt such true happiness as this before - it was so complete, and so overwhelming that I would become overly emotional and burst into tears with such gratitude and love. It was all strange for me, as it was the first (but hopefully not the last) time I experienced such feelings as this. I eagerly look forward to the day that I will encounter this wholeness of love for God again, because I am certain that it was returned back to me...

I was truly blessed on my pilgrimage. So often, I felt filled, and surrounded by God's love. It's one of the only explanations I can give for my ability to walk all the way to Santiago de Compostela - especially after my knees and feet had been so bad during my first week and a bit. Friend's and Family's prayers back home for me truly worked, and I'm so grateful to them for those.


What was it like?
It was truly amazing! I already miss getting up at 06:00 in order to get out of the doors by 06:45-07:00. I miss seeing the sunrise whilst breathing in the clean, unpolluted air of the paths and trailways of rural Spain! I miss the famous 'mixed salad', which was the only thing I ate for dinner for about a week! I miss having my backpack and guitar on my back, along with the travel pouch that became an extra limb! Mostly, I miss that closeness with God - a closeness which I feel one can only really experience if they are isolated from the material world of people, opportunity and information. I miss heading for the Parroquial (Parish) albergues, where I was graced with that element of community and faith. I miss randomly encountering my pilgrimage friends at a cafe, or at the albergue (the pilgrim hostels) or even along the way.

I didn't really like how many Spanish people (who were referred to as 'false pilgrims' by an ex-monk that I'd met at a Pulperiain Melide) joined on or just before the last 100km to gain the Compostela. I even heard many of them plan to take the bus, but stop off at various villages just to get stamps on their credencial in order to 'qualify' for the compostela. Of course, at the last stages of the Camino, most people who had been walking for over 2 weeks were needing more rest, but people failed to respect that, and were even sometimes selfish.

Great people I encountered
I encountered some fantastic and inspirational people whilst on my pilgrimage:

Cayte, physically the strongest woman I met on the pilgrimage, despite carrying over 12kg in her backpack! She also had a tenderness that I suspect she's not used to revealing, but I felt her genuine care when I was at my worst physically. We now keep in touch via facebook (the only pilgrim friend I have on facebook, actually!). I met her at Eunate on my third day.

Marie-Rose was the albergue Hospitalera at Eunate. Her genuine care of each and every pilgrim was felt down to the very core of me. Her gentleness was beautiful to see, and this was my first real experience of the love of Jesus as very much alive along El Camino.

Eduardo was a Spanish guy I met for one evening at Eunate. He wasn't walking El Camino - he was was actually walking to Rome!I remember asking him what he does, and he smiled at me and said that he doesn't have a job - he's a full time pilgrim. This being only my third day in, I secretly scoffed at the idea of being a 'full time pilgrim', and thought he was a little bit crazy. Only... once I'd been walking for a week on El Camino, I saw exactly what he meant. I now wish I'd exchanged details with him so that we could keep in contact and share our pilgrim experiences!

Walter: The Italian whom I could never communicate with very well because of my lack of any language he spoke. We had actually taken the same flight out from Stanstead, and we'd met on the bus from the airport in France to Bayonne station. I encountered him throughout the whole of El Camino - he was even there at Santiago de Compostela, where I last saw him. I will remember him for helping the Church, because on the first night after the first stage of my walk, he had helped the collection at Mass in Roncesvalles.

Bridgitte was someone I'd met at Estella, at the Parroquial albergue there. At first, I found her declarations of faith to be too in my face - I don't usually like the whole 'faith in your face' thing. I find evangelism more suitable for me, if it's lived out in everyday life, rather than through words. But I later learned that she lived in a Convent for 8 years. The most prominent meetings I had with her were at Reliegos, where we enjoyed dinner together at a 'hippy-like' vegetarian café (vegetarianism hasn't taken off in Northern Spain yet!). I think she was trying to fend off:

American Ron... otherwise known as Ron Lawson, the American. He really was... American. Patriotic as. I'd first met him en route with Marcell, when Hannah, and Cayte were trying to fix Cayte's shoe (ov course we were in the middle of nowhere). My most prominent time with Ron were on two occasions: 1) When we were both staying at Sahagun Benedictine Convent. 2) When we walked together for about a day around Foncebadon. Ron was quite eager to learn a little bit of Spanish, French and German so that he could better communicate with more people along El Camino! I shared with him my relationship problems, and I remember him telling me how sorry he was about the situation. He was very interested to know how I manage to base my love and sex life on the foundations of my faith.

Hannah was a lovely girl... the youngest pilgrim I encountered on El Camino. She was 16, and highly independent. She, like Ron, was also interested to know how I base my love and sex life on my faith. I remember her saying how she liked how I don't shove my faith down people's throats. I never saw her after the Austrian albergue.

Marcell was the German joker! I encountered him more in the latter stages of El Camino, for example at Monte del Gozo (the day before reaching Santiago de Compostela), when I was able to join him and his German friend for dinner. Outside, he was as macho as one would find in a super hero, but I sensed at one point that he wasn't averse to opening up, and even describing some of his dreams to me!

Jose-Luis was the Hospitalero at Tosantos... one of the best albergues I stayed at. One of his friends took the pilgrims staying there to a mountain about 0.5km away that had a hidden chapel within it - an absolutely beautiful experience. There was also a chapel on the loft of the albergue itself, and I guess that everyday, he got willing pilgrims to write thoughts and prayers onto pieces of paper, to be read out loud by future pilgrims passing through his doors. At the end of the prayer and reflection session, we sang salve regina. He was such a man of God, that I appreciated staying at this albergue more so, than many others.

Victoria at Sanbol was also a wonderful person - giving back to El Camino after she'd been a pilgrim herself. I will always remember her together with the albergue she was the hospitalera to - a place of healing. Sanbol was a place of healing water. At this point of the pilgrimage, I was about 3 days into healing... so my knees were still quite sore. So I dipped both my legs into the cold healing waters. That's not as bad as Christopher that day, who dived into the little freezing pool! Victoria shared wise words with us - slow down; don't 'run' on El Camino, otherwise you might miss something. These words lived with me during the Camino, and I made it a special point to avoid rushing as much as possible. This included commencing my walk for the day before natural sunlight!

I met someone who regretted rushing her Camino, and leaving before natural sunlight. That was Carole - who was such a fun person, with lots of energy. She'd admitted that for the first 24 or so days of her Camino, she was keen to keep up with her pilgrimage friends, who woke up at 04:30 and began walking by 05:00 getting to an albergue about 2 hours before it even opened. I met her at Foncebadon, not long after she'd decided to begin taking El Camino the way it was intended - walked in daylight, and without rushing! "All my life I'm rushing, but I don't want to do that anymore!" she'd said.

Vicky was one of the Canadians I'd met on El Camino. She was a very bubbly character, but think she was just one seriously fast-paced woman. She was very in touch with her intuition... whenever a village didn't seem like it had a lot of positive energy, she would walk through it onto the next village. I remember talking to her whilst walking once, about my faith, because as every body usually is, one is naturally interested in why another is walking El Camino. At Ventosa, she had told me that I inspired her to talk to God again... and this is one of the greatest blessings I was graced with during my Camino.

Justin and Jennifer the Canadians who I couldn't decipher were in a relationship or not! They were so lovely to offer to pay for a dinner for me when I told them I was running out of dough! I wasn't really in need, so I refused their offer, although I often questioned whether it was right to reject their charity! I suppose I knew I had a little cash left, so I didn't consider myself a charity at that point! Jennifer had bad knees around the same time as me, and I last encountered her at Villafranca around the 26th day. Justin and Jennifer were with me at the healing albergue in Sanbol, and I remember her knees were in their healing stages, but between there and Villafranca must have gotten worse, as she was literally in crutches when I saw her last. I hoped and prayed that she and Justin would make it all the way to Santiago, because they were such lovely people. I will always remember Justin for being one of the calmest people I've ever met, and Jennifer for being the complete opposite - energetic and open!

Steve was the first Brit I met on the Camino. He claimed to be walking El Camino because he was 'walking the dog' - his dog's name was Molly! He quit at Leon, because Molly wasn't doing so well, and Spain's rural people don't treat dogs the way we do in Britain!

Pete was from Reading, about an hour away from where I live. He was really interesting, and he was also equally interested in the Camino and the people you encounter. I think I got on with him one of the most. He had a great sense of humour, and I'm naturally drawn to people with a great sense of humour.

Mario was the Italian who lives in London - and he did El Camino with a donkey name Quicho! I think the donkey took to me really well, and seemed to like walking with me! Mario was a professional photographer who loved to take landscape photography, but his own business involved him taking photography for Art pieces. He was a great person who had walked El Camino more than once before, and he fears that the commercialism of El Camino will soon take over the spirit of the Camino, which is one of giving and sharing. On the night of Spain winning the world cup, I was at an albergue with Mario and:

Francisca the German lady who loved to spend her sleeping time as much outdoors as possible. She struggled at the Benedictine Convent in Leon, and said she left it to sleep outside because it was so claustrophobic. When Mario and I had cooked dinner at Mazarife (just before the World Cup Final match started), she said that I was a really caring person, and I was surprised that someone would pick up on that just by making dinner! I think she had a lot of inner strength, and was one of those people that has strong faith and prefers to keep that internal.

At Molinaseca, I met an Hospitalero that said I was a genuinely nice person, and that there are few people like me in the world. His name was Matthias. He was involved in an accident that completely ruined his knee - so he didn't walk very well at all, yet I first saw him when he was changing the bedsheets of the top bunk bed mattresses in an albergue with quite a lot of steps! I told him that I was thinking of returning back to help at an albergue, and that I would be interested in coming back to this one, where he could also teach me Spanish. He could tell that I was an eager student, and he was very generous to offer me the use of his centri-fugal machine to help dry my clothes quicker! He was a lovely man who may have been viewed as a handicap by some, but to me, was probably a lot stronger mentally, physically and spiritually, than most other people who were walking El Camino.

Sergio was a Spaniard who really struggled with his feet due to blisters for most of the Camino. I can't remember the first time I encountered him, but the first time I noticed that he'd been staying at most of the same albergues as myself was at Castrojeriz. I normally understand Spanish ok, but for some reason, I couldn't understand his a lot of the time. I asked him if he is speaking Castellano, and he said yes! So I don't know... I just couldn't seem to communicate with him as much as I'd wanted to. It was through him I met:

Carmenchu! She was a lovely lady, who I think must have been such a stunner when she was younger. She had long grey hair that she plaited everyday. She always called me cariño! And she was always so concerned for my health. Around day 27, I'd developed blisters that needed popping, and so she was so lovely to lend me some of her solutions, along with Sergio. They walked together a bit, as they were supporting each other - and this was just so lovely to see. Everytime I bumped into them, I was invited to join them, but felt that I wanted to walk as much of my Camino alone, and not become too reliant on companionship with any groups. She had such a generous heart - one which really reflected the selflessness of Jesus.

Xavier was the French man with one of his EIGHT children with him on the Camino. His son's name was Constantine. I felt a holiness in this man, that I don't feel in very many people. He was very strong in his Catholic faith, and I could tell he loved his wife and children very much. I see Xavier as an example of how I'd like the father of my children to be... firmly loyal to his family. Not sure about the eight kids thing for me though - I guess I'll have as many as God wills me to have! In him, I found inspiration for my future relationships, and am now more inclined to say I'd want a Catholic husband. He called me a good friend, but I honestly felt that it was I who was graced with meeting him and Constantine, who attends a special school for children. I think Constantine has a mental problem, but I am not clear on what. All of his children have Marie in their names - I absolutely loved this. I will never forget this Father and Son, who made me wonder and pray even more fervently about the future of my own family to come.

Father Andrew was the Polish Priest I encountered during the final walks of my Camino - in fact, it was the penultimate day. This is one of the most special moments for me. It was about 07:45 when I began praying my first Rosary of the day. He obviously saw the Rosary in my hand, and for the first time on my Camino, someone asked to join me in prayer. I was at first shocked, because God was answering my prayer right then and there, and replied "of course", but that I'd already started and that I'm still on my first decade. After the decade had passed, he asked me my name, and then told me he was a Priest. He certainly didn't look like a Priest! After he said thank you, I saw him stop at a rememberance stand, where clearly someone had died in previous years. At every place of rememberance, I always stopped, and prayed for their soul, but I couldn't this time as I was getting emotional! I was filled with that all-consuming love for God once again, and I remember the feel of undiluted happiness. The whole of that moment was a true blessing, for it was the answer to a question I had been seeking then and there. I later encountered him outside the Church at Monte del Gozo, where as I asked him to pray for the soul of my Grandad. The last time I saw him, was when we'd both arrived at Stanstead airport on the same flight. I gave him my details - because I have no doubt that this man truly was a man of God, and that for those very strange yet fulfilling moments, he was an answer given to me by God.