One Million Steps To Freedom: The Camino To Santiago

 

March 2011

“Leave your country, your family and your father’s house and go to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1)

I’m kneeling in the sanctuary of Thurles Cathedral and the above line of Scripture comes back to me – God calling Abram, sending him to an unknown place. In this sanctuary I was ordained 31 years ago. In this Cathedral I sat waiting for Confession in the warm half-light of Saturday nights as a student.

God has used Thurles in the past to call, to draw me to Himself. And I feel He is doing it now, again on this March evening 2011. It’s as if my boat has already been launched from this familiar shore and is moving in the direction of a new horizon that is unknown to me. 

“Leave…and go…” – the call of Abram has always enthralled me, found deep resonance in that nomadic part of my spirit. The mystery of the unknown that seduces the wanderer. My mother often called me Siddhartha after the character in the novel by Herman Hesse. She saw in me the searcher, the wanderer.

 At the age of 56 I am coming to the end of something and have absolutely no idea what the future holds for me. It is almost as if I have no future, only a present, this present time.

For 21 years I have served on the Provincial Council of the Irish (Mother of Divine Love) Province of the Pallottines and for the past 6 years I have been Provincial with responsibility for the Pallottines in Ireland, UK, Rome, Argentina, USA, Tanzania and Kenya. It is a mission that has indulged my love for flying, long distance flying. More importantly, it is a mission that has forged connections between others lives and mine, connections of heart and mind, connections that I dearly cherish. It has been a labour of love, a messy labour and a beautiful one. And it is coming to an end on April 30.

God is telling me to leave and go in faith to the place of His choosing, a place that will be revealed to me by my successor. In this there is opportunity and freedom.

I have MY plan and it involves a sabbatical year and I hope it will be allowed. First I want to go home to rest and get ready. I also want to make the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostella in Spain, a 500 mile walk and in doing it I want to learn again how to travel light, how to walk in a relaxed manner into the life God has prepared, along that path of delight that He will show me (Psalm 16).

In departure I will decide what to leave behind and what to take with me. There is dust to be shaken from my feet, an abundance of rich experiences as well as my compromises and failures to be left behind. Only what is essential will come with me.

This might be my last big chance to live life as it should be lived – positively and without compromising who I am meant to be; the man, Pallottine, priest that God created me to be.

 October 29-30, 2011

The changing of the clock to winter time has left me confused and I’m at the Galway coach station two hours too early.

Today is Laura’s first birthday, Michael D Higgins has been elected President of Ireland and I’m moving towards the Camino. It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, taking a step into the unknown mystery of the future. In confession this morning the priest told me not to look back but to move forward in the Spirit. Apt advice for this journey.

So here goes! People have poured a host of negative questions on this trip - will I be able for it, it’s a terrible time of the year, the weather will be awful and I will be isolated. Of course I listened and had my doubts but the greater power is in the call to this pilgrimage.

“...when I think I have lost my foothold, your mercy Lord holds me up” - a psalm from todays Mass and from St. James himself “...the testing of your faith gives you the power of going on in hope”

No doubt my foothold will be lost many times, my faith and my very being will be tested but  I will go and I will trust.

In Santiago they will ask me my reason for doing the Camino. On a conscious, deliberate level, I am walking for repentance, conversion and reparation - in the Refiner's Fire. To learn to travel light again. But mostly I am following and unspoken calling, the pull of the Spirit that is akin to the call of the sea. 

The TGV train from Paris to Bayonne is a thrill that has awaited me a long time and now it’s mine for 8 hours or so. The fields are tranquil, some harvested, some ploughed and shades of autumn that I haven’t see for years. Ancient trees almost flame - red, yellow, rust - forests of them. Haze. There’s a stillness in France. Water a perfect mirror of sun, sky, trees - a lake, a river. The colour cast by sunlight is glorious. Nothing moves. Only the speeding train.

“To return to the moment of radical innocence” - from the book I’m reading. “Songs of Innocence and Of Experience” is the title of the book being read by the young man next to me. Innocence! Like the Camino, innocence calls me. Not a return to an earlier innocence that I’ve lost but there is a new radical innocence to be arrived at, revealed. Innocence understands very simply that its soul is beautiful and that it is loved.

October 31, 2011

"...life must pass through difficulty in order to achieve any modicum of beauty”

(Let The Great World Spin)

There were eight of us on the train up the mountains from Bayonne. One woman was obviously a pilgrim, being dressed much like me and carrying a backpack. The train stopped and after a delay the conductor came down to announce something that made the woman pilgrim puff and roll her  eyes. Were we stuck? Everyone went up to the door of the driver’s cab and through his window we could see a flare burning bright at the entrance to a tunnel. There was the fear that rocks had fallen in the tunnel and the driver walked into the tunnel to check it out.

While he was gone everyone talked - happily. The eyes of a woman met mine so I asked “Parlez vous englais?” She did. And very well. Marlies and her daughter Monik are from Belgium. Marlies lives in St. Jean. Monik is visiting.

The driver returned, the journey resumed and when we got to St. Jean the two Belgians decided to walk with me to my hostel - Auberge du Pelerin - to make sure I got in. It was now 11.15 p.m. My knocks on the door and ringing of the bell brought no response from within. Marlies gave me her phone for me to call the woman of the house who came down and welcomed me into the dark silence.

I was talking like it was midday. She told me to be quiet because “people are asleep”. Hostels have lights out at 10.00 p.m. Opening the door into the dormitory she pointed to the top bunk inside the door. “This is yours” she said and then withdrew, leaving me to the darkness and the sounds of men sleeping. It was not the time to go rooting in my bag for anything so I threw it onto the bunk, climbed up and went to bed fully clothed. There was a blanket. 

The morning revealed a small dormitory with just three bunks and  two elderly men going about their ablutions. The guy beneath me was still sleeping. He was younger than the rest of us.

At breakfast the woman of the house, Daniela, was chatting with a young female pilgrim who had a rosary wrapped around her wrist. They both gave me a warm welcome. The two older men from my dorm were at the end of their Camino - a Frenchman who sadly had to abandon his walk because of severe back pain and a German who does not believe in talking to God because he does not believe in God. He was planning to get the train to Lourdes that day. I said “maybe God is talking to you” and told him how peaceful the Grotto is, especially at night.

The third roommate arrived and sat quietly at a distance. He is Julien, a computer scientist from Paris and he’s here to help Daniela clean up and close up. A nice man. I’m the last pilgrim of the season.

St. Jean is a beautiful place and it’s a beautiful day. There was some discussion at breakfast as to whether I should begin today or not because there is concern about the weather. But having been up all night travelling I decide to rest before beginning. Daniela agrees and says it will be alright.

When I asked Daniela where she comes from she replied, "I'm a citizen of the world. I allow no country to claim me." During the winter months she goes off backpacking somewhere around the world. She plans to do archery in India!

  

November 2, 2011

Alfred walks across the floor with the poise of a dancer, a gymnast to his trampoline. At the end of the first day of the Camino we share the same small cubicle, along with two others, in Roncesvalles. He’s Brighton born but grew up in Scotland which he claims as his native place. He was to become my first companion on the Camino.

We had just been to Mass in the monastery chapel where I participated as a member of the congregation with the other pilgrims. Before holy communion one of the celebrating priests announced that communion is only for Catholics but that others could come for a blessing. My immediate reaction was to ask myself what it must be like for a non-Catholic to be told this.

I got my answer from Alfred back in our cubicle where he was pacing. When I asked “how are you?” he blurted out his hurt and anger at the exclusion he had just experienced which he saw as an exercise of power on the part of the Church. I listened, let him rant. He apologised for loading this on me and kept talking. I said it was ok. He needed to say it.

When it came to dinner time I hoped I might sit with Alfred because he was the only one I knew but he was with some others and their table was full. Walking into a dining room full of strangers is a bit awkward. Where do I sit? 

I sat with three Italians, two women and a man named Mauro who had passed me earlier in the day when I was walking through the forest. It turned out that the women were driving his luggage from one place to another and they were covering a lot of ground. Lovely people.

There was bread and yogurt left over when we had finished eating and Mauro said I should take it with me for the day to come.

Next morning I headed off at about 7.30 leaving Alfred gathering his belongings which were spread around the floor. My expectation was that he would walk with Pierre with whom he arrived the previous evening. However Pierre and another pilgrim passed me by shortly after I had begun and Alfred was not with them.

It was a lovely morning after the rain of the day before. Along the way I was passed by a man who was running the Camino. He shouted “hello” to me and was the picture of freedom as he ran along dressed in the blue and yellow that I came to associate with the Camino. A lot of the signs were in these colours.

Hanz from Germany also passed me by when I had stopped to draw my breath. I was actually gasping and he so cool sauntering along. He’s been walking since August.

In the late morning I stopped for coffee at a bar in a little village. Smiling I asked the woman behind the counter for a café Americano. Her face remained impassive as stone while she got me my coffee and when I smiled and said “grazias” she did not smile. It’s Navarra and she might be Basque.

I sat outside and was soon joined by Alfred who was protesting against the set route that we had to follow, protesting against being seen as a tourist. And he insisted that the woman behind the bar had such a face on her because she’s fed up with pilgrim tourists.

For me the set external route liberates me to pay attention to the internal pilgrimage and I don’t have to worry much about finding my way. “The lot marked out for me is my delight...you will show me the path of life” (Psalm 16). But his rebellion against the route led him to places and experiences beneath the stars that remained unknown to me.

It began to rain so we covered up and moved on, spending the rest of the day together talking non stop.  He’s 27, very bright, sharp minded and a bit of a prophet in that he stands and thinks outside of the culture in which he finds himself. He questions everything. There is also a dynamic in him that seems to seek rejection even while he is seeking intimacy and this will always keep him on the edge and on the move - internally and externally.

We go back to the conversation of the previous evening about his exclusion from communion. It turns out that he is not baptized but he believes that Christianity has moulded his culture. He asks what communion IS. I explained its sacredness and that it is the Body and Blood of Jesus. There are times - including yesterday - when he feels drawn by Catholic liturgy and he even trembles in its presence. I said it’s the Holy Spirit drawing him, Love seducing him but he does not want to be seduced.

He questioned the right of the Church to go to other cultures and impose its religion. I said that from the Irish perspective there are a few important aspects to our missionary movement. The first is that we are not an imperial people and have never gone to impose ourselves on others in the way Britain, Spain, France etc have. There is also the fact that we have an impulse to go out of ourselves to other unknown places - like the monks of old getting into a boat not knowing where it would take them. The missionary movement is also best seen in the apostle Andrew after his first meeting with Jesus when he was so touched by the person of Jesus that he couldn’t contain himself and went running to tell his brother. Our mission is basically being so affected by Jesus that we cannot help but share it. Ultimately we go because Jesus has told us to.

We got to the small village of Larrasoana at about 5.00 p.m. Alfred was for going on a further 10km but I had enough and he decided to stay as well. The municipal albergue was small, smelly and unattended, with just one other pilgrim - an older Frenchman with a long grey ponytail. There was something homely about the three of us being there together.

Finding food in the little place was a problem but we eventually found a shop tucked away in an obscure corner. A ham roll, coke and chocolate was my dinner. And lovely it was!

When we lay down to sleep in our bunks Alfred turned out the light and said to me “thank you for today.”  I close my eyes and listen to the song I want to die to - What A Friend I've Found by Delirious?

In the morning we had to be out of the hostel by 7. Alfred moved on alone, hoping to walk tracks that were not part of the set route. We were already that close from one day together that I felt lonely parting and I expected that we would not meet again. But we were to meet again and part a few more times!

Not wanting to walk in the dark I stopped under a street light on the bridge to pray to the sound of cockcrow, running water and the wind. Later in the morning I went into a field to say Mass under a tree because it seemed there was no guarantee of finding an open church. 

November 3-4, 2011

On the third day I walked alone the 29km from Larrasoana to Zariquiegui via Pamplona and ended up being the only pilgrim in a private hostel in the tiny village. While walking through  the beautiful city of Pamplona I became aware of how at ease I am in an urban setting. I love the sea, the country, solitude but at the end of the day I am urban! During the Camino I came to a heightened awareness of the sacredness of the city - the humanity of it, the presence of God in it.

While praying in the Cathedral in Pamplona I read John's Gospel chapter 2 - the Wedding At Cana and the Cleansing of the Temple. What Jesus offers now - the new wine -  is better than what went before and in the cleansing of the temple he is also offering us something better than we have known. The question is will we, will I, allow Jesus to give what he is offering? Am I willing to go through the kind of cleansing that is necessary in order to experience the new?

"Those who have never been told about him will see him, and those who have never heard about him will understand." (Romans 15:21)

I left Zariquiegui on Friday November 4th at 8.00 a.m. The rain was pouring down, the ascent of the alto de Perdon muddy and slippery, the fog thick and the air filled with the eerie sound of a hundred barely visible wind turbines.

Being Friday I decided to pray the Stations of the Cross internally, arriving at the top of the hill for the crucifixion. The monument is familiar from the movie ‘The Way’. On my way down the other side at the placing of Christ in the tomb my mind was instantly back at Calvary in Jerusalem 1999 a month after Maura’s death. At that time I placed her in the tomb and cried and cried a torrent. Now in this place I not only placed Maura but Mam & Dad and my own past with is failure, its pain.

And the tears flowed again! And though I was totally alone, miles away from anywhere, I tried to hide my tears at first because they embarrassed me. But I dropped my hands and my guard and let go, crying all the way down.

There is a hint of resurrection. The last breath of the old life is the beginning of an alleluia that comes to my lips but it is a song that will not be sung until it encounters the alleluia of the Holy Spirit. Then life will ignite in me. The opening ceremony of the Barcelona Olympics comes to mind and I think of myself as the flaming arrow shot forth by the archer to light the Olympic flame. That is the journey, the Camino.

The weather cleared, the sun shone and I sang other songs.

It was one of the most significant moments of my Camino and I walked 38km that day to reach Estella, a day ahead of schedule, arriving in the hostel where Mark, Becky and Brend were staying, though I wasn't to get to know them yet. 

Mark and i met briefly on the stairs, introduced ourselves and he with his great smile said, "I look forward to getting to know you." Right then I wasn't fit to get  to know anyone

The place was buzzing with happiness and I shared a dormitory with Harold who is 80 years old, and the 6 members of the Viveros Guzman family.

It seems to me that Divine Province intended me to meet these very people who became major blessings in my whole experience.

Estella was also the most friendly town so far. It had a working class, happy atmosphere, and I went out in the evening to have the lovliest burger and chips ever. And I got lost and was rescued by a lovely couple - Miguel & Conti - who walked me a long way back to the hostel, none of us having a language in common!

November 5, 2011

Grief still lingers in me and I have a strong feeling of needing the embrace of the Church, something I have never felt before. And I need the comfort, the consolation of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. It’s comforting to know that there is Mass in the parish church this evening.

On Saturday I headed off for whatever destination I could make. Not  far from Estella I saw a figure coming down the hill to the left of the track I was following but I didn’t recognise Alfred until he caught up with me. Together again! He had slept out on top of the hill in his coffin tent and got to gaze into the eyes of the sky, an experience that few of us had the privilege of experiencing - or the courage.

The ground was heavy mud and the going tough and my energy was low after yesterday’s long walk. We got to Los Arcos in the rain at around noon and went for a coffee. In the bar we smiled at a lone female pilgrim who would enter our path later. She is Kathrin from Germany.

True to his nature Alfred went further but I booked into the Austrian Albergue where I was welcomed with a cup of soup and was told “this is your home while you are here”.

In the dormitory in the bed next to me on my right was a lady from Korea and on my left was Christine from Switzerland. Michael from Germany was in the bunk near the door. Then came in a young man dressed in white and beige, wearing a wide brimmed hat and sporting a long pony tail. He shook hands with me and introduced himself as Brend from Holland.

It was a very homely place with a lovely old living room that had a stove burning. After a rest and shower I went to sit there with my book. Brend was playing guitar, Mark was going in and out making phone calls to home. Others were sitting at the big tables doing various things and some were on internet.

Harold arrived and told me that the Spanish Viveros family were cooking dinner and if I would like to join I could pay €2 and he brought me to meet them announcing that I was a missionary from Tanzania.

Twenty of us sat down to that meal around a square table and I was squeezed between Mark and Brend who asked if he could put his meat on my plate because he is vegetarian. Becky (Mark’s wife) was very respectful of me as a priest and asked if I thought that the place where we find ourselves on the Camino is where we are meant to be. I said yes, not realizing that my being with them was meant to be and  a very significant part of my journey.

Pedro the policeman couldn’t understand why I would not take wine and he said “you cannot be a pilgrim without drinking wine.”  I smiled! Becky asked if I would say a prayer at the end of the meal to bless our night and the day to come. Harold, who says he has no faith, translated and was surprised by the familiarity we used in speaking to God. He expected it to be more formal.

This was one of the loveliest evenings of the Camino and after dinner I suggested that we who had not cooked should do the dishes. A twenty year old German Marcus joined me and some others.

Sunday November 6, 2011

Last night I went to Mass in the parish church after waiting a long time for the doors to open. It was nice and friendly once we got inside.

This morning it was a treat to be able to have breakfast in the albergue before setting off alone on the journey to Logroño. On the way I caught up with Michael who was limping with a swollen ankle. We got into stride with each other and he seemed to have a great capacity to ignore his pain. I liked his company. During the morning we moved in and out of the Guzman. I asked about the photo which was pinned to Julian's backpack. They were his & Rosie's parents. The mother had died in July and telling me this made Rosie cry a little. It's fresh grief and it connected me to her in a special way.

Sunday is hunting day and we came across lots of men with guns and dogs. We also met the only horse-riding pilgrim who came from France and was doing the Camino in reverse which struck me as odd. He looked like an Argentinian gaucho. We asked was it difficult to find a place for the horse at night. He said finding a place for the dog was what was difficult because he wasn't welcome in the albergue's.

At Vania we decided to take a break. I saw an open church where Mass was to be celebrated at noon so Michael and I parted. There was a large congregation and the singing was beautiful. The whole town was thronged with families.

It was late afternoon when I got to the albergue in Logroño. In my section of the dormitory there were three young Korean women who giggled a lot and two other men who didn't communicate. Michael & I decided we would go for something to eat after a shower and rest.

Brend arrived and took the bunk above me and while I was tuned into my headphones he hung his head down to ask what I was doing. At that moment I was listening to Pope John Paul II's "Abba Pater" where JP II is speaking in Italian about the relationship between God the Father and Jesus - it leads into the singing of the Pater Noster - so I got out of my bed to give Brend a listen and translated it for him. "Interesting" he said in his quirky way. 

We began chatting with Michael about our reasons for doing the Camino. Mine were clearly religious & spiritual. Michael, who is Catholic, said he was doing it for cultural and sporting reasons. He and Brend got into a discussion on work and money. 

Brend said that he wanted to do something for people and went on to talk about his religious experience/study which had led him to believe that all religions are good, that one is not better than another. And then, placing his hand on his chest he said "but in here I have a special feeling for Jesus". The gesture, the tone, the expression on his face were beautiful. Look after that feeling I said.

On the other side of the dormitory they got to singing the national anthems of their respective countries and I duly obliged by singing the Irish one.

Michael, Brend and I went out to eat and were soon joined by Alfred, Pierre (PY) and Christine - all of them much younger than me, a fact that made me smile to myself. A very happy gathering.

November 7, 2011

I went to Mass in the parish church this evening, a mostly old congregation who offered up the most heavenly singing. When I got back to the hostel they had kept dinner for me. Michael, Alfred and Pierre were the cooks and I'm really touched by the thoughtfulness of these 20-something young men. There's a great feeling of family and community and a lot of fun going on. Becky offers me her remaining internet credit so I get to go online for a while.

This morning I set off alone from the hostel in Logrono while it was still dark, following the yellow arrows along the footpath & enjoying the early morning feel of the city. Until I lost the arrows and felt lost. I stood still and said a prayer, then looked to my right to see the Viveros Guzman family having breakfast in a café. They would show me the way. So I went in and got myself a coffee, waiting until they were leaving and I told them I needed to follow them, walk with them. They were delighted and welcomed me into their lives.

Venancio is married to Rosie and he drives a tourist bus in Mallorca, so he has some English. They have no children Rosie told me, making a decisive gesture with her two hands, saying God had left her "seca"! There is no complaint in this. They are a very happy couple.

The other four are Julian (Rosie's brother), his wife Paci and their two sons Julio and Sergio, aged 27 & 26. Julio is a taxi driver and Sergio is a teacher and both are very fit. Julian, who is a socialist, talks to me about how the Church hierarchy in Spain is so distant from the people, favouring the rich over the working class, though he said it's different with local priests. The others agreed.

In Navarette we took a break to buy some food and it was there that I drank my first and only Red Bull, feeling the need of an energy boost.

In the dark silence of the church there I stood in front of the altar, gazing at the tabernacle and had some moments of total & sheer silence, without thought or feeling, aware only that a communication was taking place between God and me. Only the Holy Spirit knows what that communication was. All I know is that it was extraordinarily beautiful and profound.

Along the way we came by a shrine to the Virgin Mary where we stopped to pray and I was struck by the devotion, the sincerity I witnessed in my companions faces. Rosie told me that the Virgin is very important in Spain.

In the hostel you take the bunk allocated to you. Mine is a bottom one but it's right next to the one beside me - not an inch separating the two - so that I'm virtually sleeping with Christine. A little bit awkward! Later when Becky found out she not impressed and said that if she had known we could have made other arrangements. In any event both Christine and I slept well and didn't cause each other any hassle in the night. I think!

I never announce that I'm a priest because I don't want any fuss but some of my companions would make it known in the hostel. In private conversation I always said that I'm a priest, had no problem revealing this and was pleased at how no one ever reacted negatively to me. There was always on the Camino a sincere openness and respect for the other. And we all became talking points in the conversations of others so that it became known along the Way that there was an Irish priest doing the Camino. Often in meeting someone for the first time and after saying my name people would respond "oh you're the Irish priest. I've heard about you!"

November 8, 2011

Innocence knows that its soul is beautiful, that it is loved and loveable. 

I am innocent now!

This was the first full day of sunshine. I opted for solitude, feeling a little low in myself. The ritual of getting up in the dark frazzles my mind. It starts around 6.00 am with the first few pilgrims stirring, trying not to make noise & failing. It gradually builds up to what feels like a frenzy of movement back and forth to the showers and toilets - trying to get everything together, sleeping bag rolled up, getting stuff packed into backpacks. I can never find my torch and, unlike Christine on my left, I don't have the sense to just stay in bed and let them all go before me.

I went to Mass at 8.00 am in one of the monasteries, a lovely simple chapel with a beautiful life-like statue of St. Francis. There was a small, older congregation who were very friendly. After Mass they each came up to me in my seat to wish me "buen camino" - I obviously stand out as a pilgrim. This is balm to my brooding soul and I feel refreshed, ready for the day ahead - one step at a time. It's important to remain in the present, in each footstep - otherwise the thought of the distance becomes oppressive.

It was a gentle journey. Not far from Najera and going round a bend there was the astonishing sight of snow covered mountains in sunlight. This too lifts the soul as well as one's gaze.

At noon, feeling tired, hot and overdressed I went into a field where a massive haystack offered support and shelter. I answered a call of nature and changed my clothes. Just when I was putting on my boots Mark,  Becky & Brend arrived, followed by Alfred and Christine so we decided to pause there. The younger, more agile ones climbed onto the haystack and Alfred pulled me up. It brought us to talking about the scene in the movie 'The Way' when the mad Irishman was introduced to the story. We couldn't NOT take a picture. For our lunch there we shared bread, chocolate and cheese. It was a happy, childlike moment.

I returned to walking alone. You can do that so easily on this journey - have great moments of companionship and then, without offending anyone, move away again into solitude. My first big juicy blister appeared! And at reception in the albergue I could not find my credencial (pilgrim passport) which you need in order to stay. It was one of those flustered moments when clarity is impossible and I was pulling my bits out of my bag and making no headway. The man at the desk told me to relax or something like that and then I found it.

Santa Domingo is another lovely, ancient town. I spent a long time in the laundrette with Rosie & Venancio washing and drying clothes and talking in our broken languages. Later I prayed in the beautiful Hermitage chapel. I would love to have gone into the cathedral but refused to pay to go in and the woman at the desk was not nice at all. Walked around the town for a bit with Brend and bought throat lozenges for Attilio who had a sore throat. Mark & Becky had cooked omelette and as always were eager to share it. And we sat around, a whole crowd of us chatting, writing in the guest book and exchanging email addresses. It was in that way that some of us decided that we would like to remain in contact with each other.

November 9, 2011

The notice said there would be Mass at 8.30 a.m. in the Church of the Cistercian nuns. The front door was open but the church itself was closed. However I could sit in the porch and look throught he glass door inside which was the tabernacle only a few feet away from me, so I prayed there. Two French women I met in the hostel also arrived looking for Mass. By 8.30 there was no sign of action so I left for the 23k walk to Bolerado. A beautiful day. 

As I was walking along I was thinking of Brend and his birthday which was coming up on Nov 27 and prayed some of Psalm 139 for him - "I thank you Lord for the wonder of my being" . Then turning a bend on the track who did I see up ahead but Brend himself. When I caught up with him I asked if he ever reads the Bible. "Not really" he said "but I was thinking of asking you what is the right Bible to read!" Convergence! Providence! I recommended the New Jerusalem Study edition. He prefers to read in English. He has excellent English. I also suggested that he pray to the Holy Spirit before reading the Bible because "there are two levels". He replied "I think there must be much more than two levels." Of course he's right.

We caught up with Rebecca (Becky) and Mark. At that stage of the journey she was still Rebecca to me! After visiting the church in Granon I invited them for a coffee and Mark said he would like to hear the story of my vocation.

I went on alone again, coming across Claudine along the way. She was the pilgrim I met on the train from Bayonne to St. Jean - I think of her as independent and generous. She was planning on staying in a hotel in Bolerado because she wanted to soak in a bath.

In a small unremembered village I met a Spanish woman pilgrim whom I had not seen before. She was lazily viewing flowers in a window box. "Buen Camino" I called out to her as we do on this Way. "Igualmente" she smiled back.

In the village square I sat to rest and when she caught up with me I asked "do you speak English?" Wrong question! Wrong language! She turned fierce cross and spat out a response that I clearly understood to be "it's not for me to speak English, it's for you to speak Spanish!" I was stung and replied in Italian! - "I know". And I drifted away from her. 

It was the first real negative I encountered and I was tempted to chew on it as I walked but I said no, I'm not keeping this inside me, I don't have to carry this feeling. So I somehow had the grace to let it go.

At the albergue in Bolerado we literally bumped into each other at the foot of my bunk. I smiled and asked in Spanish "how are you?" Later we met again in the town square and she asked me if I was Italian. "You spoke Italian" she said!!! She fished in her bag and brought out a small English guide book which she handed to me!

Pedro the policeman brought me for a coffee and he told me it's his fourth time doing the Camino & he said that I will do again too. He started life as a teacher but found the four walls of the classroom too confined, so he became a policeman so he could be out in the open streets with the people. But he's back teaching again - as a  policeman helping troubled young people.

In the evening I waited in the cold outside the church for it to open...! It did...and there was a lovely Mass celebrated by a young priest with a broken arm. The Gospel reading was the cleansing of the Temple in John 2 - a recurring theme on this journey.

Two new pilgrims - Hanz from Switzerland who has been walking for six weeks and Geraldo from Spain who sat beside me at Mass and asked me to bless his St. Benedict crucifix.

"...my house will be called a house of prayer for all the peoples..." (Isaiah)

We had a lovely meal back at the albergue. My Spanish lady was at the head of the table right next to me and conversation with her was difficult enough. Thankfully Mark was on my left and we spoke about prayer...maybe even St. John of the Cross. I feel Mark has a real contemplative soul.

November 10, 2011

We left in a thick fog this morning, walking in it for about an hour. I say "we" though I am alone but we are all in it at the same time. Hanz passed me by, walking like the speed of light. He's been walking for six weeks and can easily do 40k in a day. I'm in awe. Pedro came my way as I was resting by a fountain in the emerging sun.

I have stopped in a really posh hotel in Villa Franca, having done 12km. Now at an altitude of 2,700ft, Pedro informed me that the next 12km will be a difficult walk up to 3,100ft. So the decision to stop for a coffee before the ordeal. There was no bar at this end of the village so I entered the gleaming foyer and asked sheepishly if I could have a coffee, feeling utterly underdressed for the place. No problem!

My lungs gasp for air; my soul gasps for a fuller inbreathing of the Holy Spirit. Breathe on me, breathe in me breath of God! I misunderstood Pedro. The steep part lasted only for about 1km and then it levelled off for a two-hour walk through pine forrest. What a pleasure. 

Last night I slept for nearly 10 hours, a group of about 30 filling the dormitory. We've come on new pilgrims.

Coming near San Juan De Ortega I caught up with Brend who was walking at a much faster than usual pace. Frustration & a bit of anger made him walk like that - anger with Jesus and Christianity because there is such an emphasis on the helplessness of humanity who need to be saved without any effort of their own. I suggested he look at Christianity as a relationship with Jesus, that he would find this in John's Gospel which reflects the great love that exists between Jesus and the beloved disciple.

  

We spent some time in the lovely church in San Juan and then on a bench outside. Everything in the village was closed so there was no chance of buying anything, except a can of Coke from a vending machine. If you didn't carry much food (like me) then it was essential to get to a village before midday, at which time everything shuts down and doesn't open again until six or seven in the evening. Brend shared his bread and chocolate with me and then we walked the last few km to Ages where we were staying the night. 

At the albergue in Ages we caught up again with Pierre (PY) who told me that Michael had gone on ahead and that we won't see him again but he gave PY his email address to share with the rest of us. The way of the Camino, as Mark would say - we meet, get close for a while, we part and we have to let go. Not easy as it sounds!

An old lady of the village gave some of us a tour of the local ancient church and at sunset I strolled beneath the stunning sky before having dinner with Brend & PY and then another sound sleep. The Camino is a great cure for insomnia!

November 11, 2011 St. Martin Of Tour 

"It was those who were poor according to the world that God chose to be rich in faith and heirs to the kingdom" (Letter of St. James 2:5)

After breakfast in the albergue we left in a group - Mark, Becky, Brend, Atilio & some others including Claudine who had stayed in a different place. Everyone is so happy. 

I'm singing to myself & Mark comes to ask what it is - it's Hillsong's "He Is Lord" - and I try singing it for him but am a bit awkward when I know someone's listening and all the words don't come. Funny that - when I walk alone I sing this song out loud and uninhibited. "He is Lord, He is Lord...and He lives, yes He lives and I'm alive cause Jesus lives..." From then it has become Mark's song for me whenever I hear or sing it. Songs have a way of connecting us.

The first three hours were through countryside up and down hills (mountains?) and as we went we scattered & straggled out so that Mark, Becky, Brend & I are together as was to become our habit for most of the remainder of the Camino. Becky & I had a good bit of time together and I found myself pouring out my experience on the Alto De Perdon to this good and loving Christian woman who is nearly half my age! Becky is outgoing, a leader who gets things done, got us moving when moving was necessary. She is the daughter of Christian "hippy" missionaries and spent her first 13 years in Pakistan. She and Mark are very committed to their faith. 

We stopped in a village to eat oranges and when it came to the main road I opted to go with it alone while Mark & Becky went through the country by a river. Brend, I think, also took the road some way behind me. It took about another three hours to get to Burgos. 

At noon and feeling hot and tired I stopped for a break in what looked like a truckers stop. Had coffee & some kind of cake (of course!) Phoned Stephen in Evergreen Florists at home in Galway to order flowers for Rosaleen's birthday on Sunday. Nice guy, chatty - delighted to be getting a call straight from the Camino. He told me that the inauguration of Ireland's new President Michael D Higgins was about to begin & he was watching it on tv. The ceremony was billed to coinside with Armistice Day - taking place at 11 on the 11-11-11. I love the number 11. Later in the day Rose sent me a text to say it was a beautiful ceremony.

Michael D went to Mount Mellary for a few days to prepare his inauguration speech and one of the chief guests was the Abbot of Glenstal. And one of the songs sung at the ceremony was 'I Arise Today' sung by Rita Connolly and composed by Sean Davey. Well worth a listen. I arise today through the strength of Heaven....

I arose from that place to continue on to Burgos, soon coming to the industrial area that leads into the beautiful. At a moment when I was uncertain about the direction to take, who did I see crossing the road by the Viveros Guzman family accompanied by Claudine & Atilio. So I tagged along. This is their last day of two weeks walking and I will miss them because they have touched my life in a really lovely way - all six of them. 

I love the city and it gets more beautiful the further in we go. The albergue is right beside the magnificent cathedral and Brend and I are given a bunk on its own in a little cubicle. He sleeps above me as is becoming the custom.

After a shower I went to the Cathedral to pray. What a magnificent building. They have worked out a wonderful balance between tourism and prayer, having a section reserved exclusively for prayer. There is adoration at 5pm and Mass at 7.00.

While strolling the streets before Mass I found Mark, Becky & Brend in a Kebab fast food place and went to join them. Later in the evening after Mass we all went to a pub for a farewell gathering for the family. We spent a lovely time in the buzzing night-life of Burgos.

And then to bed for a quiet (?) night and a perfect ending to the day.

November 12, 2011

There must be something about Saturdays! Walking 20k feels as hard as if it were 30! After saying goodbye and hugging all the family I left the albergue alone at 7.30 am and went for breakfast in a bar near the cathedral where I went for some quiet prayer before Mass. Another beautiful day!

I opted for the shorter route which seemed & felt largely like wilderness, though much of it is ploughed and ready for the seed.

Got a text from Patrick Winkle who said that "Christ Be beside Me" would be an apt prayer for the journey. Interesting that this is an older version of "I Arise Today" which I touched on yesterday. I make it my prayer: 

Christ be beside me, Christ be before me,
Christ be behind me, King of my heart.
Christ be within me, Christ be below me,
Christ be above me, never to part.

Christ on my right hand, Christ on my left hand,

Christ all around me, shield in the strife.

Christ in my sleeping, Christ in my sitting,

Christ in my rising, light of my heart.

Christ be in all hearts thinking about me,

Christ be on all tongues telling of me.

Christ be the vision in eyes that see me,

In ears that hear me Christ ever be.

(James Quinn, adapt. from St. Patrick's Breastplate, 8th cent. Another version of St. Patrick's Breastplate)

In the middle of the day I came to a village, delighted to spot Mark & Becky who were just coming out of a shop and they recommended some things that I might like, so I indulged in the pleasure and then went to the bar next door where I got coffee and a sandwich. An odd atmosphere, something loud and rough. Of course they were working themselves up to Saturday afternoon football and some of the old fellas were downing their port in preparation. I've noticed a lot of people drinking what looks like port in the early part of the day. 

It's roasting hot and a couple of hours further on I sit in an exhausted heap on the side of the track, my head feeling heavy.

At last I got to the deserted village. There's no one in charge of the hostel and the beds in the dormitory that's open are all taken up. 

We laze about outside in the sun and when the lady in charge arrives she makes a right song and dance about everything, exercising her power with great commitment. There were conditions on everything, especially the stamping of our credencials and we all sat dutifully waiting our turn.  

Aelfred turned up briefly to get his credencial stamped and then he took off to sleep beneath the stars.

But to be fair to her she loaded up the stove and left us with a roaring fire for the evening and she also opened the only store (owned by herself of course) so that we could buy some food, most of which consisted of large frozen loaves of bread. I left the buying of bread to others while I bought chocolate!

As the sun was going down I went to the edge of the village to pray, sitting on a rock, looking at the hills and the ploughed fields. 

Back at the albergue we had one of the loveliest meals from the point of view of sharing - a kind of miracle of loaves. At our table Brend had a tin of vegetables, Claudine a tin of meatballs, Mark had soup - all of which was cooked up, served and shared to our delight. I had a piece of spanish omelette, with oranges and chocolate for desert.

New pilgrims on my path are Jacquie from Scotland with her friends Judith - a Hungarian Catholic - & Matan who is Jewish and from Israel. They seem to be a couple. Matan meditates crosslegged on his top bunk and he might become a soul-mate for Brend who practises Yoga. There is also Bilal, the very tall young German of Lebanese origin. When I introduced myself as Eamonn he replied "Oh you're the Irish priest. Aelfred told me all about you!"

Got a text from Rose to  tell me the flowers for her birthday had arrived and that Stephen from Evergreen even sang "Happy Birthday" to her! Nice!

I went to bed early while those who drink wine had a great night. I tuned into my own music and slept well.

November 13, 2011 Rosaleen's Birthday

Got up at 6.30. It's Sunday so I go outside to find a quiet space where I can celebrate Mass. A cool breeze blows in the pre dawn darkness. The door of the albergue self-locks behind me and a needy cat simply would not leave me alone. There's no chance of doing anything with this creature crawling all over me so I wait for the first pilgrim to emerge through the door so I can get back in. The cat has the same idea and sprints through the door as soon as it opens and disappears among the bunks. It's not long before there's a bit of fuss and people are up trying to catch the cat who succeeds in walking on most of the bread that we might have for breakfast. We seduce it out the window with a bit of meat.

I left at around 9.00, still with a desire to find a place for Mass and an inner voice suggested "the Lord will provide!" It's the word that came to Abraham when young Isaac wondered where they would find a sacrifice - the Lord will provide was Abraham's reply. He did! So I trust!

Along the way I stopped to watch the morning sky and prayed the rosary sitting on a rock. It was beautiful. Further on up the hill I came on Becky & Mark who were sitting eating oranges which they shared with me. Then came Bilal with his long stride. His name means "clear water" and he's doing the Camino on a shoe-string which might not last as far as Santiago. If he runs out of money he will have to give up. I said to him "God will provide!"

In the village of Hontanas at 11.30 the people were emerging from the church after the 11 Mass and I thought I've just missed my chance because they lock the churches immediately after Mass. But a bold streak came into me and I walked up to the sacristy where the priest was preparing to leave and when I asked if I could celebrate Mass he said "of course". A very welcoming, kind man who had great respect for the pilgrim. It meant he had to tell the sacristan to keep the church open which in turn meant she would be late getting home.

She was calm enough until I explained that there were other pilgrims behind me that I would like to be present. I was particularly keen that Mark & Becky would have the opportunity to worship on Sunday since they are committed Christians.

Bilal was standing at the back of the church and asked if he could stay. He explained that he was neither Christian nor Catholic and I said he was welcome but asked him to go back up the road to call the others. I sat to wait and the sacristan sat behind me. I remained calm.

When the group arrived we made an interesting congregation - a Moslem, a Jew, two Anglicans, two or three Catholics, a Scotswoman, Hungarian, American, Israeli, Dutch, Irish. A nice mix of humanity! We tried some singing and Mark read a reading which I think was about the faithful wife - totally unplanned! It was their first time seeing me robed as a priest! And it was a simple but wonderful moment on this journey, a sense of being blessed. "Fortuitous!" Jacquie said afterwards. 

Bilal told me later that, while he was waiting outside the church for the others, a woman came up to him and gave him bread and he thought of "God will provide!" He is searching, maybe not knowing what to believe. I told him about Charles De Foucould, a Christian mystic who lived among Muslims in the desert. At a critical time in his life Charles said to God "If you exist, show me!" Sometimes we have to be that direct, even blunt with God. Bilal has a lovely heart and I pray that it will find its way.

In Castrojeriz Mark & Becky have taken time for themselves, away from the rest of us, and I think it's a very good idea for a married couple to do this. Bilal, Brend, Jacquie, Matan, Judith and myself are in the same albergue which smells faintly of incense and is very bright. Brend is pleased! 

Sayoko the Japanese woman is here. She fascinates us all walking the Way with tiny little steps, wearing a kimono and pulling and pushing her belongings in a little trolley. 

We pool together the food we have - a tin of fish, soup, chocolate, oranges - and have another special meal! The experience of the people I'm sharing the Camino with reminds me of the love and excitement I felt when I first came to experience Pallottine community life in Thurles. This sharing of food reminds me of the simplicity of life which we experienced in Tanzania.

There's a monastery of St. Clara down in the valley and I make my way there as evening falls. It's a perfect oasis for a while and it is open to the public all day from early morning.

Dark of winter enters into me always at this time of year. Now in the approach of night I feel it creeping into me, taste its gloom, the threat of birth. Resistance! Even in the midst of this loveliness. Only God can know its reason & its purpose. And only God can know the pain that walks within these boots of mine! But I'm fine! All will be well!

November 14, 2011

"Jesus Son of David have pity on me!" (Mark 10:47). Have mercy! Have compassion! The bold urgency, the desperation of the blind man in today's Gospel reading. I don't feel that urgency personally but I make the cry for those I carry within me, for those who are desperate. I also find myself praying with gratitude for my companions on the Camino, praying for their needs. They are precious gifts to me - especially now Aelfred, Brend, Becky, Mark & Bilal.

Jesus asked the blind man "what do you want me to do for you?"; he asks the same question of me.What do I want of him now. Lord that I  may SEE what I am really about, SEE the path marked out for me by God, BE the kind of man & priest that I am meant to be.

As I was waiting outside the monastery of Santa Clara this morning I read some of John's Gospel chapter 6. In the face of the hunger of the people, in the face of their need "Jesus KNEW exactly what he was going to do" and, after the miracle, when they tried to  force him to be king, he fled to the hills KNOWING that he was not meant to king in that way.

I want not to be distracted by what is false, to know like Jesus who & what I am meant and NOT meant to be.

The convent gate opened shortly before 8.00 am. In the public part of the church there was a local woman and myself. The nuns, being enclosed, were behind a large  gate or grille. The altar is in the public part of the church with the priest facing the nuns. The priest is African and when he entered the church he came to greet me, asking what language I speak and he said "we will do our best for you." To my amazement he celebrated some of the Mass in English for my benefit. After the blessing he called me to the microphone to greet the nuns and when I mentioned to them that I am a pilgrim priest he asked why I didn't say that before Mass. I could have con-celebrated he said. But I was conscious that my boots were dirty. He was really warm and hugged me. He is Patrick from Benin and I feel like I've met him before.

Santa Clara gave me one of my loveliest spiritual experiences on the Camino - it fed my monastic, contemplative need in a beautiful way. A Tabor moment - right down to the heaviness of sleep. And I wanted to stay there forever! Before setting out on the Camino I prayed to St. Francis & Santa Clara to accompany me. It seems to have been.answered!

My morning was spent walking alone. I stopped in a small village at around 1.00 pm  and came on Sayoko walking the Camino in her kimono! We had lunch in the same bar but not together. At around 2.30 I passed by Jacquie, Judit & Matan who seem to be having a lovely time together - really laid back.

The last 6k were along the banks of a canal with the wind rustling in the rushes, the dominant colours being yellow and rust. Before I know it I'm in Fromista where Becky, Mark and Brend have already arrived.

"...you will hear this voice behind you saying 'this is the way, follow it...'" (Isaiah 30)

There is a way marked out for me, a way that calls me, draws me forward, onward. No detour, no turning back. The past has no claim on me now. The present is blessed. The future is...... in God's hands! I am truly at peace. A tramp! There is innocence, poverty, purity here!

"...the more the soul sees of the greatness & sensitivity of Jesus Christ...and the sharper its vision of him, the more it is transformed into him through love." 
(Blessed Angela of Foligno)

November 15, 2011
St. Albert the Great

"For you who fear my name the Sun of Righteousness will shine out with healing in its rays; you will leap like calves going out to pasture." (Malachi 3:20)

Walking the away from Fromista  to Carrion I'm aware that the only burden I bear right now is the bag on my back and it's a great place to be. There's a pain on my shoulder which keeps me mindful of the hidden wound of Christ, the hidden unspoken wounds of many people. This is my prayer for today.

It was hard to sleep last night because of the incredible snoring of the man in the bunk next to me but I felt myself enveloped in such a smile that I was not disturbed. Nobody slept much. The man in the bunk above him made all sorts of dramatic efforts to stop the guy's noises.

Despite the rain we had a lovely evening in Fromista, firstly gathered around the stove in the dining room that had no facilities other than tables and chairs. Some of us hung our clothes around the stove to dry. I sat a while with an Englishman who is walking 40k a day. He's driving himself hard because he has issues to deal with and is not interested in lingering.

Mark took a beautiful photo of the Church of St. Martin and it looks like it is standing in a clear water lake. We went out for something to eat (MBB & me) and were joined by a new Dutchman and a young Dutchwoman. I'm pleased for Brend.

There was a certain meanness about this hostel. I asked if I could get hot water for coffee this morning and was refused in a tone that suggested such a request was outrageous! Bless him anyway!

As we grow closer I'm trying to be careful not to invade the space of Mark & Becky. For a married couple it must be difficult at time not to have their own private sleeping place. They too are very respectful of my need for solitude. On the Camino it is quite easy to form attachments with some people but you also know that we are only passing through each others lives, even if we live in each other for a while. There's the great freedom of being able to say "I need to walk alone now" without fear of giving offence. We will have to do it in the end anyway!

I have arrived in the Espirito Santo albergue in Carrion after a short walk of 19k but the going felt hard and my feet are very sore. Jacquie and I walked the last 6k together. Her friends Judit & Matan got up this morning and decided to go to India instead of staying on the Camino. Such freedom! 

Jacquie is from Scotland and has worked in tourism there. She has the perfect personality - bright, open and a great smile. A good walker too! We talked about relationships and the single life.

This is a lovely albergue run by nuns who received us very warmly. There are no bunks, just nice single beds. Jacquie shared her food with me. No sign of MB&B. They might have gone on further. See - I'm already missing them!

There's a French person here - I can't say whether man or woman - who moves around with an uncertain air - and when I've decided he's a man, she goes to the women's shower! They have separate showers here for women and men. I feel compassion because this is the kind of person who will be talked about.

The way I classify people reminds me of the man in the Mervue Take-away. When I asked him where he comes from he said "guess!" India, I said. "No! Guess again!" Pakistan? Yes, he said with delight. I asked does he mind when people make that mistake. He said no "because God made us human first before anything else." We are all human. The person is a person.

I'm tired, sore and easily frazzled! The young Dutchwoman hogs the public computer which I would love to get my hands on for a little distraction. I go for a walk in the town and end up in the church of St. Julian hoping for a time of quiet prayer before Mass. But nothing goes my way! Someone is working on the organ and making a terrible lot of noise! Offer it up.

"Let nothing remain which could come between your soul and God, that you may be able to pass surely and directly from the wounds of the sacred humanity to the brightness of the divinity." (St. Albert the Great)

November 16, 2011

I had  a lovely quiet time and Mass in another Santa Clara monastery before setting out for the journey to Carrion de Los condes. It was a really enjoyable day - good weather, feet in good shape and energy high. Caught up with Mark and Becky and walked with them for a couple of hours which was very enjoyable. We  came on Brend and the young Dutch woman, spending a nice while on a break with them.

Here in Carrion de Los Condes I share a room with a mouse and three men who are new to me  - Samuel from Germany, Cornel from Switzerland and Andreu from Spain who is near enough my own age I would say. The other two are probably in their 20's. Cornel is very friendly but is miserably sick and thinks it's food poisoning. I mother him a bit.

"Guard me as the apple of your eye" (Psalm 17)

November 17, 2011

The woman of the house has given me a stick to help me walking. It's an incredibly beautiful morning. A lot of the walk is along the highway, a long walk. Miguel reckons it was 33k and I feel every bit of it. The albergue in El Burgo where we're staying has the feel of a hostel for the homeless but it has a nice stove where I sit for a while.

Lorna and Miguel are going to cook for all of us. Lorna is from England and is a friend of Jacquie and Judit - they met picking apples in Italy. She has travelled a lot of the world. Brend arrives a little later while Becky & Mark have taken the old Roman route and are staying in another town.

Hostel life is a really wonderful experience - the variety of people, the conversations, the table. It doesn't matter who or what you are. You belong. I belong! The meal tonight was beautiful, though I can't say what it was.

"Perhaps when we look past the error (in others) we will witness our own innocence" (John Brierly)

In the liturgy today the theme of poverty emerges again - "if you wish to be perfect, go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor..." (Matthew 19:21)

It brings me face to face with my house and to be  honest I am not yet ready to give it up but when I am able I will let it go. Its value to me is not financial but its whole meaning as part of my life history. Plus the fact that it was Mam's dying wish that I have it.

Psalm 16 - the theme I chose for my life as a priest - has also come up today. "O Lord it is You who are my portion and cup!" You are my inheritance O Lord. The only inheritance I need.

"Happy are you who are poor..." (Luke 6) All of us on this journey are living a simple poverty, none of us need more than we have. Mark & Becky live this better than most in an inspiring way.

"A person's life is not made secure by what he/she owns..."

November 18, 2011

Puente Villarente 

I was so tired this morning and didn't think I'd get too far. Brend and I together left the village of El Burgo with a beautiful sunrise behind us. We get on well - Brend and I. There is something very pure and beautiful about him. It's not for nothing that other pilgrims refer to him as Jesus.

By lunchtime I had gained energy and had little difficulty making the rest of the journey. Around midday we spent a little time in the church in Mansilla and met up with Jacquie outside where we had a little lunch. Samuel passed us as we walked across the bridge - Puenta Villarente. Lorna had arrived ahead of us in the lovely hostel in  which I twisted my right foot on a step - ouch! 

Brend had been talking about his journey home at the end of the Camino. He was planning to go all the way to Holland by bus. I suggested that it would be easier, quicker and maybe even cheaper to go by plane. He had never flown and didn't know the mechanics of booking on-line. So at the hostel I looked up Ryanair flights and discovered he could get home with them via Madrid for a fraction of the cost of the bus. We booked his first flight and I felt excited by it!

Yesterday I met a Catholic man from Korea who had great praise for the work done by the Irish Columban Missionaries. Nice to hear that!

The gospel for today is the Cleansing of the Temple (yet again!) and the hymn for evening prayer is "Christ Be Beside Me!" - Christ beside me, before me, behind me - in all hearts thinking about me, in all tongues telling of me, Christ be the vision in eyes that see me....Amen!

November 19, 2011 It's raining!

Dream: I was walking down the street of a village where people were talking about twin babies born to a woman. One of the babies died and I turned to ask a man what the dead baby's name was, even though I already knew it was Margaret. As I walk along a black car drew up beside me and from within a woman called "is that Fr. Monson?" She got out and was very small with a hump and was wearing a purple coat. I put my arm around her and she cried.

"Sing a song of praise, blessing the Lord for all his works" (Sirach 39)

"You must worship the Lord your God and serve him alone" (Luke 4:8)

"...follow Christ by loving as he loved you, giving himself up as a fragrant offering..." (Ephesians 5)

November 19, 2011

It was a short walk of 13k from Villarente to Leon, Brend and I travelling together. Ramon from Spain walked with us into Leon and showed us the way to the Benedictine Monastery where we were staying. It's Ramon's fourth time doing the Camino. A nice man who doesn't believe in politics and will not vote in tomorrow's general election.

At the albergue we are greeted very warmly by Aelfred who looks really well after three days rest here. The place is run by Benedictine nuns and Miguel informs the sister at reception that I'm a priest. She gives me information about Mass.

There's a great atmosphere here with a lot of young people, including Bilal who also has rested here for three days. It's a beautiful city to take time out in - even if it's raining. But I've no desire yet to take time out. I have my first meeting with Daniela from Switzerland who has a great smile and is very welcoming. You get the feeling that everyone is gathered around her.

Mark and Becky arrive looking very tired and I'm delighted to see them. 

I went to check out the church situation and found the lovely San Isodoro where there is adoration. At 6pm I went to Mass in the Cathedral. It's the vigil of Christ the King. The singing of the congregation is haunting, uplifting.

This feast marks the end of the liturgical year, a time when I like to look back on the spiritual year of my life, though I don't really, can't divide up my life into compartments. I am what I am. What assessment can I make?

I remember very little of the period between last Advent and May. There was a retreat I gave to Ceili Community before Christmas - a real experience of joy and the vibrant movement of the Holy Spirit. My sabbatical began in May, the end of my six years as Provincial, a lot of letting go of hurt, people, experience, failures. There has been the struggle to forgive and I have arrived at a peaceful place in that regard, something I am grateful for.

I use that word "grateful" but it doesn't fully express what I feel before God. There is no word in existence that says what it is that I want to offer to God. There is a word in the Holy Spirit, in the prayer of the Spirit in me - the "new song" that waits to be sung but I don't know it yet.

On the way back to the albergue I dropped into the restaurant where Mark, Becky & Brend were eating. They gave me the gift of a hat which they had bought for me because I lost my other one yesterday. I'm really touched by this gesture, the thoughtfulness of it.

Together we went to vespers in the monastery and then to a nearby bar for a drink. I am old enough to be their father, yet we are totally happy and at ease with each other. I might be much younger. I feel much younger!

We are about 20 sleeping in the dormitory where the incredible snorer of a few night's ago is back! Two bunks away from me! Nobody gets much sleep. Eve sent me a text to say that Annie Smyth is not well so I pray the rosary for her.

November 20, 2011 Sunday 

I got up at 6am so I could go to Mass in San Isodoro. The nun preparing breakfast gave me coffee before leaving. Aelfred, Lorna & Miguel were also up. Bilal emerged looking frail. I urged him to eat properly because he's a big guy who needs plenty of nourishment.

Leaving the albergue at the same time were Christine and Walter whom I had met for the first time yesterday. I thought they were a couple but they are mother and son, she being Korean born who moved to San Francisco where Walter was born. I guided them to the way out of the city and then went to Mass which was very beautiful.

It was still dark and raining when I came out from Mass and it was hard to see the yellow arrows of the Camino, so I went for coffee and waited for the light.

Later when I came on Christine & Walter she asked if I'm a priest and when I asked how she knew she said "you have an aura!" Mmmm?

Around midday when I paused for a rest I heard the voices of Mark, Becky & Brend coming from the distance behind, a sound that brought a smile to my face - it was like the sound of the Beloved! They remind me of the three divine visitors who appeared to Abraham in Genesis 18.

And when they caught up we shared some food and walked together for the rest of the afternoon, pausing again for a while under a tree. We talked about our reasons for doing the Camino.

We are now is San Antonio Hostel in Mazarife, a lovely cosy place. Mark & Becky are given a special room for couples. Brend and I are in a dormitory all to ourselves. Walter & Christine are in another dormitory.

It's election day but you'd never guess - there's very little sign of voting going on.

Sergio the owner of this albergue cooked us a wonderful dinner - giving us a choice of three starters, three main courses and three deserts. Lovely conversation, lovely people.

"The Lord appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day.  Abraham looked up and saw three ... standing nearby. When he saw them, he hurried from the entrance of his tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground.

He said, 'If I have found favor in your eyes...do not pass your servant by'." (Genesis 18:1-3)

November 21, 2011 

Every day there are lovely moments of thoughtfulness and kindness. This morning before I left the albergue Brend came to give me chocolate, a bun and an orange for my journey. At breakfast Mark gave me a high-five and a hug. Sergio treated us to a really nice breakfast to set us on our way.

The first three hours were spent alone. There wasn't a stir in the air, except for the birds in the corn fields. The colours are brown, beige and a grey sky. Met Jose Miguel for the first time and stopped in a market town for a coffee. Jose always looks happy! 

My backpack is causing some concern - not so much for me because it isn't that heavy but my companions think it could be more comfortable, would be more comfortable if I had something to balance it around my waist. There's a gang of them up ahead of me as walking by wheat fields on the right and a railway track on the left. Jaqcuie emerges from a field with her belt in hand, saying it might help my situation and it certainly did. She tells me to keep it. That's how good she is, how thoughtful people are out here.

Puente de Órbigo is the longest bridge on the Camino and it is very long. We were in a very happy mood. Brend, Jacquie and I had lunch together on a bench before I took off for some solitude, stopping under a tree at about three to celebrate Mass out of sight. What peace I felt there. The gospel reading was the widow's mite - the woman who gave two small coins, all she had to live on. This has for many years been a significant symbol of my life - the little I have to offer is my all and nothing more is required, there is nothing more to give.

I passed by three old farmers and their dogs sitting by a cross and further on one of the most interesting people on the way - David from Barcelona who gave up all to be here. He lives in a little shack, at the front of which he has drinks and some food for passing pilgrims. I stopped there for a short while. He reminds me of a sketch I drew a couple of years ago of King David the Shepherd. Just like him in my eyes. This is a place where I would like to remain. Before leaving he hugged me and when I wished him well with his mission he replied "it is not a mission; I am simply present!" Amen to that!

Brend and I meet up on the descent to Astorga - a lot of miles - on a beautiful evening. He also is taken by David, the simplicity of his life, his generosity. It can happen after meeting someone who inspires us that we feel somewhat diminished, feel our own littleness. But I reminded Brend that he himself is also very special, not to forget this when he looks at other inspiring people.

We talked a lot about birth, death, sleep and sadness. And the inner chaos that we experience. I told Brend that when I struggle with my own chaos I go back to the beginning of the Book of Genesis when the Spirit hovered over the original chaos bringing order and light out of the darkness. In times like that I put myself under the Holy Spirit so that peace, order, harmony, light might take over. Not instant or magical but gradual, effective if I persist. It is lovely now to be in a time and space without chaos.

Oh how weary my legs when we arrive at the city and still we have an awful steep hill to climb before getting to the albergue. Everyone else is there ahead of us. I share a tiny little dormitory with Kathrin from Germany and Aelfred.

It's a beautiful city and I need new socks! Lorna and others are cooking dinner and I buy some chocolate for desert. A noisy, lovely, happy dinner with everyone talking at the same time! Beatriz and Joan (a man's name) and his father are there, the two men looking like free spirited hippies. Beatriz is very glamorous and doesn't seem to fit the bill but she and Joan are great friends who are really happy in each other's company.

November 22, 2011 St. Cecilia 

We've been telling Brend that he should watch 'Brother Sun, Sister Moon' because he is a Francis-like person and this morning I greeted him "good morning Brother Son" to which he replied immediately "good morning Sister Moon". We laughed and he said "well such a greeting needed a response!"

He, Jacquie, Aelfred and Kathrin have gone off to Manjarin to live the simple life in an albergue which is basically a hut run by a man who claims to be the last descendant of the Knights Templars. The place has no running water, toilets or electricity. They asked me to go but it's a bit too far for me now and anyway I've done the simple living experience in Tanzania when I stayed in the homes of parishioners in the villages.

I've arrived in the tiny village of Foncebadon at an altitude of 1,400 metres, a quaint, almost ruined place. It was a steady, demanding climb to get here. With Brend gone ahead the chances are that we will not walk together again. Becky & Mark are in a village 6k behind but they will probably catch up with me. I'm slowing down. My right foot  is causing me a lot of pain. But it's a pilgrimage, not a holiday camp!

Ramon arrived just ahead of me and I got a warm, welcoming hug from Lorna. PY is here as are Jose Miguel, Joan & Bea. There's a definite New Age hippie feel to the place. Javier Sierra is a friend of Jose and has just arrived to join him for the remainder of the Camino. A really nice man. They both worked in TV but have lost their jobs because of the recession. Javier says he is happy. He looks it. There are others I haven't met before. 

As we sit down to eat at a long table I feel a little bit out of the group and miss the three who have kind of adopted me as father. But it goes well. I'm sitting between PY & Lorna. Daniela & Ramon are opposite me. The man serving the food is really kind and gentle, as is the food itself - payella. The talk is loud and happy, the wine flows and I suspect it will go on for a long time!  

The Spanish elections have come and gone. The Socialists were defeated. I'm drawn to Socialism but I'm at odds with its exclusion of God and its unwillingness to speak for & protect the most voiceless of all - the unborn. I would like Socialism with God in it. The kind that Julius Nyerere had in Tanzania.

Back in Astorga there was some time for prayer and quiet in the Cathedral which opened at 9.00 a.m. Kathrin was there for a while before going to her simple living in Manjarin. I spent the rest of the day alone.

Before coming on the Camino, Pat Lynch invited me to join Ceili Community for a few years. I love what they do, the way that they do it and the fact that they are a mix of priests, nuns and lay people. I would love to join them for a while but I have been given my appointment to Shankill and I don't see myself going back on that. Pat says I will suffocate there, that my gifts will not have enough space. So I told him I would think about it on the Camino and pray for guidance. I'm on the lookout for a sign and if something clear isn't given then I will go my Pallottine Appointment. It's the life of obedience to which I'm committed and which I believe is the best way to go.

"From me, from me comes a song for the Lord" (Judges 5:3)

I escape to bed early. The notice says breakfast will be between 7 & 9 and we are asked NOT to get up before 6.45 am! Nice one!

November 23, 2011 St. Columban

"This day God sends me strength as my steersman, 

Might to uphold me, wisdom as guide,

Your eyes are watchful, your ears are listening,

Your lips are speaking, friend at my side.

God's way is my way, God's shield is round me

God's host defends me, saving from ill.

Angels of heaven drive from me always

All that would harm me. Stand by me still"

We sang this hymn as students in the '70's to the air of 'Morning Has Broken'. It's another expression of St. Patrick's Breastplate which is appropriate for the feast of St. Columban who was one of the great Irish missionary monks.

It's 7.30 a.m. and I'm alone in the living/dining area of the albergue in Foncebadon. It's old world with a large stone fireplace, long wooden tables, stone floor and a shop. It could be my Granny's house in Raford or a place in Aran.

The hospitalero has just come in and is cleaning out the fireplace. My foot is sore but I'm content. Lots of little red itchy bites on my body which are, I think, the work of bed bugs! Never experienced them before coming on the Camino and they are different from the fleas we used to have long ago!

I think of Mark, Becky & Brend and pray for them. We are in different places but I still hold the hope of arriving with them in Santiago. Yet I can't cling to such a hope.

"God goes with us, guards us today with...protective love" (from Magnificat Morning Prayer)

The following text has been recurring in my mind and heart over the course of the Camino and it is given again today for Morning Prayer: "whether you turn to right or left, your ears will hear these words behind you, 'This is the way, follow it!'" (Isaiah 30:21)

And "He who is your teacher will hide no longer and you will see your teacher with your own eyes" (Isaiah 30)

Plus this line from a psalm which expresses something of me "I am like a growing olive tree in the House of God!"

Molinaseca 4.30 p.m. 

Today I intended going as far as Ponferrada where the Pallottines are but my foot forced me to give up here in Molinaseca.

It has been as absolutely stunning day. The breakfast in Foncebadon was the best yet of the Camino and when I left the albergue the tip of a red rising sun was emerging on a clear horizon. There was frost on the ground.

I did not realize setting out that today I would arrive at the Cruz de Fero and the highest point of the Camino at about 5,000 feet. On the mound of thousands of pilgrims I put down a white stone and pinned my brown scapular to the cross - the scapular that belonged to my mother. We lay down our lives at the foot of the cross. Everyone does it.

It's very interesting to see along the way how people are drawn to the cross - the ones that are part of the route and those made by pilgrim hands in bits of wood and stone. Is there something of the cross in each of us that reaches out to the cross of Christ? An instinctive connection? There is such sincerity in each person who walks this way, such tremendous desire in all of us!

I sat a while in the amazing landscape, in sunlight looking down on the clouds across to the higher mountains that reach above the clouds. 

Daniela came on me and offered to take my photo. "You look so happy" she said "it would be a pity not to take a photo!"

"Thus speaks the Most High...'I live in a high and holy place but I am also with the contrite and humbled spirit...'" (Isaiah 57:15). It is easy to get a sense of God's presence in this high, holy and beautiful place.

Earlier today when so many things were converging I had a feeling that I would "see" God in some way and it struck me in the splendour and height of the mountains that my "seeing" of him would take place in a lower place. You never quite know how or where God will show his face.

Arriving in Molinaseca I still hadn't "seen" and I found the albergue at the other end of the town. It looks Japanese! I was the only resident but there was a man was cooking dinner for his dog. They were staying in an outside building. I went to town to get pain killers and went to Mass in the lovely old church of Santa Marina. 

When I got back to the albergue it was such a relief, a joy to see Mark and Becky and I thought that they were surely the face of God for me! They were sitting by the fire so I joined them and the dog of the man joined me - very friendly, paws on my lap, licking my face. I'm not the dog kind of person but I was flattered that he was so taken by me! Mark asked me later if I realized that the dog is a pit-bull!!! The master's name is Gabriel - "angel Gabriel" he smiled when he introduced himself. Well.....I wasn't so sure about the smile or the angel bit!

I went up to my bunk to get ready to go out. Since it was the eve of Thanksgiving I decided to treat Mark & Becky to dinner. After a while Becky arrived up to say she had taken the liberty of inviting Gabriel to join us because he had lost his credit card, had no money and was trying to get to Rome to his parents. Becky is salt of the earth goodness of the gospel but I thought to myself "I don't believe this man", though I said nothing and really had no problem with him joining us.

Mark got the honour of walking the dog as we made our way back into town. Gabriel showed him that it was necessary NOT to be so gentle with the creature! At dinner the four of us sat - Mark & Becky opposite Gabriel and me. 

My mind wanders and I wonder again in what way will God show himself. The day is coming to a close and I still hadn't "seen". Looking across at Becky & Mark I thought "surely they are the face of God to me..." but something suggested that I look to my right at Gabriel, that here is the face of God for me today. I protested within myself - no no no, not this chancer! And the suggestion continued yes yes yes, this chancer!

The man annoyed me. He doesn't believe in God, has nothing good to say about the Church and on it went...But of course I had to surrender to the old Word that "God does not see as man sees..." and I looked at Gabriel and chose to acknowledge the revelation of God in him.

Funny thing, when I did that my feelings towards him softened and my horizon widened. We even ate food off each other's plate and hugged each other in the end. "Your teacher will hide himself no longer and you will see your teacher with your own eyes!" 

I don't know how I got talking to Mark about how I dealt with the awful reality of child sexual abuse during my time as Provincial and he suggested that during the Camino I could be praying for the healing of my own experience of having to deal with it.

We spent some time sharing on the things we are grateful for and what remains with me is Mark & Becky's gratitude for the gift of each other. Amen! 

November 25, 2011

"We trust the holy signature inscribed upon our temples" 

(Magnificat Morning Prayer)

I was up early and had some quiet time wrapped in a blanket down in the living area and managed to get a small fire going. The only other pilgrim apart from the three of us was a Jorge who is from Spain and I think he is in the army.

Mark, Becky and I set off from Molinaseca in the fog, singing every so often along the way, stopping a little while in a church in Ponferrada and later when the sun shone we sat in a park to have a little Thanksgiving picnic. There we shared again on the things we are grateful for. The immediate gratitude in me is that I am here and now living the Camino and all that it entails - the journey itself, the people, the solitude, the pain. I miss my family and close friends and am grateful for them in a huge way, grateful for this sabbatical.

When we got to Villafranca and were settling down in our lovely dormitory - single beds with duvets - Brend, Aelfred and Kathrin arrived to our great surprise and delight with the dramatic telling of their night of simplicity in Manjarin.

They had had a lovely evening there and went to sleep upstairs on their mattresses on the floor. At about 1.00 a.m. it turned into a nightmare - Aelfred jumped up suddenly aware that there were bugs crawling all over him and his belongings. It was the same for the others and when Brend woke and realized the situation he simply said "I am leaving". So all four gathered their belongings and made their escape into the beautiful night, walking until they arrived in Ponferrada in the morning. There they tried unsuccessfully to get into an albergue so they booked into a hotel where they began the process of fumigating everything and liberating themselves from the bugs that were still with them in large quantities. Jacquie stayed behind in Ponferrada.

Sitting up in bed Kathrin called across from the opposite side of the dorm "Eamonn, will you say a prayer for us!" I told her I would and intended doing it in the silence of my heart when she said "I want it now, out loud!" It was not demanding as it might sound. Direct, a clear desire! So I closed my eyes and made a spontaneous prayer for all of us there that the night would bring rest, that the day ahead would be blessed and safe. I was surprised by the request because, I thought at the time that,  though she is baptized a Christian, she was not part of a church and wasn't expecting her to turn to me for prayer. But she loved it! So did I. It drew me out of my shyness.

My prayer for rest didn't work for everyone. Becky couldn't sleep and, while I slept soundly, I snored and Mark had to get out of bed a couple of times to stop me. He said he only had to move my arm and I would stop. But still...

Now Advent is approaching and so is the last week of the Camino. I give myself totally to God, to waiting for that fullness of grace that awaits me. Let it be done!

November 26, 2011 

The church in Ocebreiro (Photo by Mark Teiwes)

"I will betroth you to myself for ever, betroth you with integrity and justice, with tenderness and love; I will betroth you to myself in faithfulness and you will come to know the Lord." (Hosea 2:21-22)

We had 30k walk today, with about 10k up a steady hill. My foot survived it with the help of Mark's stick and a lot of ibuprofen.  Brend likes happy music and so some Abba songs were sung. What a wonderful day - weather, mountains, colours, animals and arriving here just after dark singing 'Jingle Bells'. We were Mark, Becky, Brend, Kathrin and me. It was during the 10k climb that Brend looked at me with such concern and said "if you are not able to walk, we will carry you!" 

The Franciscan church was open so we went in to hear the sound of 'Bless The Lord My Soul' being played. Mark started to sing it and we all joined in. Beautiful. In front of a side altar where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved there are several bibles open in various languages - Word and Sacrament together. In the English bible my eyes fell on this text  "Jesus took a child, set it in front of them and said 'whoever welcomes a little child welcomes me...'" 

During the walk today I had been meditating on childlike innocence, so it was an appropriate text at the end of the day. Innocence is a child that remains through the development of the ages of life. Innocence is the child. God is the child. I am the child

I had fallen behind the group I was with in Foncebadon and when I arrived in the albergue in O'Cebreiro I heard a female screech of delight calling my name! It was Daniela first and then Lorna who said they were worried about me and wondered was I alright. I was really surprised by the delight I saw in them and touched by their concern. All the Foncebadon group gathered and there was a lot of hugging.

Brend is back sleeping in the bunk above me. Andreu and Daniela have become very close and I think of their laughter echoing in the hills.

In the dining room Lorna is putting a hair extension (I think that's what it's called) in Joan's hair. I tell him he looks like Jesus and he smiles humbly saying that a lot of people say that to him.

Mark is weary and in need of space while the rest of us go out for something to eat. I want to take the weariness from him but I also know I can't, and I know too well the need for space.

The feast of the Presentation of Mary which we had a few days ago is when I usually do the True Devotion To Mary in preparation for Christmas and the renewal of my consecration to God. There are set prayers and readings for this period but since I'm travelling light I put everything in the phrase of Louis De Montfort - "I am all yours my Queen and my Mother in Jesus your Beloved Son."

'Jesus! All for Jesus!' is the song I sing in my heart because He is the object of my devotion and all others through Him.

"He obeyed her because he could trust her, because she had never resisted the Holy Spirit by whom she had conceived him, because she was passionately devoted to the will of God, because she loved the world. That which had been the secret of her strength from the beginning was the secret of the communion between them now." (Caryl Houselander, English Mystic)

November 27, 2011 Sarria 

"...we basically remain without shelter, under way and open until the final encounter, with all the humble blessedness and painful pleasure of this openness" (Fr. Alfred Delp SJ)

Yesterday was spent alone and it had an extraordinary level of silence, beginning with another beautiful dawn and the sun shone the whole day as I walked through mountains, valleys and small farming villages.

Alone, except for breakfast in a little village with Brend. As far back as Logrono I had said I would be with him for his birthday but with the pain in my foot I knew I wouldn't make it as far as Samos where he was headed. So I invited him for breakfast as a birthday treat. It was lovely but it had a certain loneliness in it because it was like we were saying goodbye. He looked directly at me and said in a wistful way "will you not come with me to Samos?" and I wished to God I could but knew I wouldn't be able for that distance. Maybe if I had pushed myself....

While walking I was singing 'Bring Him Home' from Les Miserables which reminds me of Cosmas who is "...like the son I might have known if God had granted me a son." More than that! Fatherhood has grown in me since Katie's birth, since meeting Cosmas. It is in me now for my young companions on this Camino. Fatherhood!

Saturday. I'm not a runner, not running but I'm imagining what it must be like in a long-distance race - taking a turn into the final lap, not knowing what might happen.

'Bring Him Home' sings itself in me and I'm thinking about the homeless, those exiled from themselves - the worst kind of homelessness. I'm praying for those who have been sexually abused by priests; praying about my own involvement in dealing with allegations made against some of our priests.

I have always felt diminished as a man when I hear about a woman being raped by another man; I feel diminished as a priest when I hear about the abuse of a child by a priest; I am somehow contaminated & wounded by my encounters with child abusers.

Praying for the abused I'm singing 'bring her home...bring him home...bring them home' and I become aware of the wounded child within myself whose wounds have been broken open by my recent involvement with the issue of abuse. And I can no longer simply pray for him or her or them - the prayer is for us, for me, for all the children.

Bring us home to the state and place where we belong, bring us home to ourselves, give us peace, give us joy. BRING HIM HOME - Sung by Colm Wilkinson

Into all of this an old woman arrived. It was in a small village. She was coming down a little lane with her dog, carrying firewood. When she saw me she ran and asked me to wait while she went into her house. A few minutes later she emerged with a plate of hot pancakes. It was as though she came to feed and comfort the wounded child and I accepted it as such because this is what I needed. When I had eaten she asked for a donation which I gladly gave. Later, other pilgrims complained about her because she was somehow on the make! But I needed her. And the comfort of her pancakes!

Afterwards I sat in the grass on the edge of the village where I met Pablo and Isodoro - father and son travelling together. Pablo is 31 years old,  an environmental scientist who is doing the Camino simply to look after his Dad who is doing it for spiritual reasons. Pablo is not doing the Camino for spiritual reasons but I said that what he was doing for his father is highly spiritual, the most noble of reasons for embarking on this journey.

We met again later in a bar near to Triacastella. Isodoro is VERY Catholic and enthusiastic about meeting a priest on the journey. I'm not quite as enthusiastic myself. My foot hurt so I sat outside on the ground with my boots and socks off, hoping for relief. Ramon came along, insisting that I take his stick which is fine and sturdy.

In the albergue I shared a cubicle with Jose Miguel and Javier and it is here in Triacastella I had the experience with the parish priest who didn't come for Mass and who wouldn't give me the keys until Isodoro demanded them. I have an idea Isodoro was a policeman!

Mark, Becky and I went out to eat and then I sat alone on my bunk while Jose & Javier were still out on the town. I was reflecting on the gospel of John 12:3 - "Mary, taking a pound of perfumed oil of great value, put it on the feet of Jesus...." It is always my desire to anoint the weary feet of Jesus, to pour out a perfumed anointing on the weariness of other's lives. What I give tonight is my own feet. I find myself saying to God, "take my feet and use them as your own...even to be crucified." A foolish enough prayer for one with an already sore foot!

Today is Brend's 26th birthday. Over breakfast yesterday I wrote the line of Psalm 139 on his guidebook - "I thank you Lord for the wonder of my being!" This evening I will light a candle for him in a church. It's Sunday - there's bound to be an open church!

It was an incredibly beautiful Sunday with a frost and fog that lingered well into the late morning. When I found the church in Triacastella closed I went to a bar for coffee and was joined by Daniela and Andreu. They have become an item along the way and look so young in their love.

I walked alone until 1pm, finding that silence has deepened in me, ecstasy heightened and a joy that can barely be contained. Stopped in a bar for lunch where Jose & Javier were just finishing and then Mark and Becky arrived. I love their company.

In the albergue I'm in a dormitory full of women I don't know. It's very cramped and much too warm.

November 28, 2011 

I slept badly because the dorm was too hot and the snoring too loud. Some extraordinary sounds! They are somewhat blocked out by putting on my earphones and listening to music from my phone. Hallelujah by Michael W Smith always succeeds in both uplifting and soothing my spirit.

It's 5.00 a.m. and I'm downstairs in the reception area where I will disturb no one. The first birds are singing.

Though my foot is in a lot of pain I feel in me the freshness that I had at 17, the excitement of a new community. Also the power of solitude and the importance of loving without a clinging attachment.

Nothing so far has become clear about the question of going to work with Ceili community but the daydreams I have are of Shankill and I suspect that this is where God is leading me.

Back upstairs I quietly drag my belongings out of the dorm and into the shower room. Getting my bag to close is proving difficult and the tall,  young Korean lady says "let me do it. I'm strong." She is. Her name is Yesouk and she is also having foot trouble.

It was 7 when I left the albergue in search of coffee. It was 8 and still dark when I set out on the day's walk in thick fog - feeling very sluggish - through a lot of forest. The first half of the day was tough, requiring many breaks to take off my boots and socks. The weather again was wonderful and most of the other pilgrims I met were new to me - except for Daniela and Andreu and also the Korean singer.

The Camino is an alternative way of life, even for someone like me. In this time and space we do not belong to the norm and there is a really great sense of mutual acceptance and respect. We all care for each other. Here I know I am loved! This life has the innocence of an encounter with a baby - with each of the pilgrims I have no history, no hurt, no baggage. Our relationships are uncluttered and surprisingly intimate, sometimes intense but always free.

Some seem to spend a lot of their lives walking - a few months on the road, then a few months working. Many have left or lost jobs and are looking for direction.

Yesterday I gave my feet to Jesus, even to be crucified and it seems He took me at my word. I can't believe how awful the pain is and I think it must have a purpose.

The number of pilgrims on this last stage of the Camino is steadily increasing. We are down to the last 90k which is quite amazing!

I came upon a Cross today which is completely decorated with articles of clothing - people shedding excess - even underwear which looked odd. I added one of my socks as a way of offering my feet, all our feet wherever we may walk in life.

Entering into Portomarin I had to cross an incredibly high bridge which challenged my fear of heights but it was beautiful. At the albergue Lorna is having a happy reunion with her Korean friends Yesouk and Jin. Their happiness is a delight to behold.

In the evening Mark, Becky and I went out to eat. We seem to get closer as the days go by and we hope now to enter Santiago together. I attended Mass in the local church and lit another candle for Brend. The Advent Liturgy is beautiful - "O Child of Promise come! O come Emmanuel!"

Back at the albergue a group of loudly happy Spaniards arrive, accompanied by a Korean man who doesn't seem to know where to lay himself down. I welcome him as if the place were my own - pointing to the empty bunk above me. We shake hands, tell each others name and make a connection. He is Sanghan Kim

"The Lord said to me, 'you are my son. It is I who have begotten you this day'." (Psalm 2). I lay down to sleep in the most perfect awareness that I am a son of God - with the Benedictus of Karl Jenkins repeating in my ears.

November 29, 2011

"I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the glory that is to be revealed in Christ Jesus." (Romans 8)

My foot is getting worse but at times at least I'm able to outsing the pain and in spite of it I feel an overwhelming happiness! Today my refrain is Walk A Mile In My Shoes - it motivates, keeps me going.

This morning Yesouk said she was meeting the "old" Spanish guy Jose to go with him by taxi. He's probably the same age as me and I said to her that he would not be flattered to be referred to as "old". With that Mark called out to me saying "you are the young Irish priest!".

Later someone commented on how I get up so early in the mornings. It gives the impression that I'm a morning person but I had to confess that this is not usually the case and that I need time and silence in the morning before I get going. Mark said he's the same and I said it's the artistic streak in us - to which Becky replied " oh yea, when we have kids I'll tell them not to disturb their father in the mornings because he's an artist!" Sounds funny when said like that.

I think it was in O'Cebreiro and Astorga that Lorna and I encountered each other early in the morning - both of us needing this kind of private space and being able to give it to each other, both of us sitting there in silence drinking coffee.

"Whoever listens to me may live secure, he will have quiet..." (Proverbs 1:33)

The walk through Galicia is very like Ireland, the music is also very similar but the people are not a bit friendly.

Sanghan passes me by but later I find him sitting at a roadside bench drinking tea. It's a bitterly cold day and he gives me tea from his own cup, something I find very intimate. Of itself it binds us together. I remember as a child the feeling of intimacy I got from drinking tea from my Mam's cup. It tasted like no other. It was an experience I missed out on with an Egyptian friend in Rome because I didn't understand when he asked if he could drink wine from my glass. This intimacy we had in Tanzania. I've rediscovered it here on the Camino - we have eaten food from each other's spoons and plates, drunk from each other's cup.

Sanghan has moved on and we may not meet again but he says he has me in his camera. Beautiful camera!

The call to childhood comes to me again. Jesus saying "I bless you Father...for revealing the mysteries to mere children...Blessed are the eyes that see what you see..." - words that I read to Mam during Mass, minutes before she died.

"Julian of Norwich maintains that, in this life, we can have no other stature than childhood...The inmost heart of Jesus was always that of a child." ( Ruth Burrows). The child of God is not preoccupied with what he can do for God but with receiving what God is giving - this is what is happening to me now!

Tonight Becky approached me saying she did not know if it was appropriate but was offering to massage my foot. First time ever I had a massage of any kind and it brought great relief.

"Grant us Lord in this our day the ancient dream of peace" (from Morning Prayer)

November 30, 2011

6.00 a.m. Alone in the kitchen of the albergue in Palas and it's raining heavily. As it was in the beginning! Have a long time of silence before moving on. Federico the young Italian comes in. He doesn't speak. Mark, Becky pray with me for my foot. They do this spontaneously from time to time and on one occasion Mark bent down to touch and bless my foot. I really appreciate this.

Before leaving we have breakfast in the nearby restaurant. We meet a couple from Sweden who have to return home and cannot complete the Camino this time. That has to be very hard. I couldn't bear the idea of not being able to finish at this stage. And yet, if that were to happen it would be the real Camino - giving up when you don't want to! I've met a few people along the way who had to abandon their own plan and I think of Christine who had to return home because her mother is ill.

2.15 p.m. A restaurant in Melide. My foot is in uproar! Progress is very slow and I've another 10k to go which will take me about three hours. I've just seen an octopus being lifted out of a pot, all red and being cut up. Everyone here is eating it - pulpo. Except me! I'm having chips and a Coke!

December 1. A bar somewhere. It was 7.00 p.m. when I got to Arzua yesterday after 10 hours walking. Fit to collapse. On the way I met two cyclists from the USA - Alex and Juan Carlos. We arrived at an open church at the same time to get our credencials stamped. When I finally got to Arzua they were in a restaurant with Becky & Mark. My foot was a subject for discussion. Mark suggested that it might be a hairline fracture and Juan Carlos, who is a doctor, tended to agree. Athletes get this all the time and the only cure is rest which is not possible yet so he suggested I tape my together until I get home. It has helped.

Back at the albergue Michel - the very nice Frenchman - sat on the edge of my bunk and said I should take the bus tomorrow and I was inclined to agree but when the morning came again my only thought was to walk!

Federico has got his long hair cropped leaving just one long tail. He now looks like a budding hippie. This morning he is friendly and gives me a hug before I leave. I'm touched by the amount of affection I experience from the younger people.

This bar where I am resting from the pain and the rain is a hippie-ish kind of place, with a mix of the Ages - New Age and Christian. The music is Gallic, the language similar to Irish and there are some Irish CD's on sale, including Clannad. The woman at the bar is the happiest I've seen in all of Galicia. Her stamp for our credencial is done by hand in gold. It's really beautiful and unique.

Mark and Becky have gone on ahead to Arca which is about 8k away, having walked with me the whole morning. We had a wonderful time. I asked them to pray for my discernment about my future - whether I should work with Ceili or go to Shankill as planned. Mark said why don't we do it now. So we stopped in the middle of the track we were walking on and we prayed. I left it in God's hands then and trust that the right thing will happen.

Arca 5.25 p.m. We're staying in a very nice private albergue which costs €10 for the night - double what we normally pay. But it's worth it. The hospitalero is very fond of Irish music.

Another new pilgrim is Olivier from France who is very preoccupied with beautiful women and keeps talking to me about them. He has a boyish innocence.

We're now only 20k from Santiago. I cannot believe it!!!

There's a song from the movie 'The Way' - it's 'Thank You' by Alanis Morrisette and it's in my heart now. The mood of it!

December 2, 2011 

I got up at 4.00 a.m.while all others were sleeping, had coffee and chocolate from the machine and set out on the final leg of the journey. The reason for leaving so early was to give myself a head start in the hope of reaching Santiago Cathedral for the pilgrim Mass at noon. The others would follow and catch up.

The first few  hours were mainly through woodland and darkness. The occasional clearing in the woods, the parting of the clouds revealed the magnificent starry sky before dawn but otherwise it rained heavily and the going was tough enough with the handicap of my limping foot. The guiding yellow arrows were hard to see and I had to pause often and gaze intently before catching sight of the right direction.

Travelling like that alone through the dark woods was a unique experience. There's more than a Small Measure of Peace in a haunting kind of way. Mark gave me his headlight, without which the early part of the journey would have been impossible. I looked like a miner or a Martian! It was wonderful when passing near the airport to experience a jet coming in to land just above the tree tops - the sight of it and the roar! I love it! Though I'm not fond of noise at any time, I love the sound of an air-plane.

At 8.00 a.m. I stopped in a posh hotel to get coffee! I was beyond caring about the fact that I was totally under-dressed for such a place! Vanity had gone completely out the window by now!

Around 10.00 a.m. Michel from France caught up with me, delighted to see me on me feet! He is 75 years old and extremely fit and a very devout Catholic. He gave me a big hug and walked with me to the Mount of Joy. Today he said I should con-celebrate at the Mass in the Cathedral. There would be no problem.

At about 11.15 I hobbled into the city, meeting a Swiss pilgrim who lives in Cork! Small world. He has travelled here by train, boat and walking of course. He thinks flying - especially with Ryanair - is inappropriate for a pilgrim. I had toyed with the idea of returning to England by boat but had run out of time. Next time!

Arriving in Santiago I felt strangely empty and out of sorts and the echoing sound of pipes being played under an archway did not help. I didn't want to be alone at this point and there was still no sign of the others, so I went into a cafe to wait. Mark, Becky and Lorna arrived about half an hour later, with enough time to have a coffee before going to the Cathedral.

Inside the Cathedral we all hugged each other and as it was five minutes to twelve I took off in search of the sacristy. The others didn't know where I'd gone. When I got to the sacristy the priest welcomed me warmly and asked if I would say my part of the Eucharistic Prayer in English. The sacristan put an alb and vestments on me and when I pointed down to my dirty boots he said "you are a pilgrim" And so I went straight from the Camino to the altar as a pilgrim priest wearing my pilgrim boots! 

The sight of me brought tears to the eyes of some my fellow pilgrims and though most might not be Catholics or believers they were proud of this moment and of our belonging to each other. The priest up there was not a stranger, I was theirs. As well as Becky, Mark and Lorna there were Kathrin, Michel, Jose (the older), Andreu, Daniela and Olivier.

One thing I ask of the LORD;

this I seek:

To dwell in the house of the LORD

all the days of my life,

That I may gaze on the loveliness of the LORD

and contemplate his temple.

(Psalm 27 from the Mass)

At communion time they all came up in a line to me - some to receive, others to be blessed. They were beaming and I felt like a proud father. It was an incredible moment, the memory of which still brings a huge surge of emotion and tears. Mark crossed his arms over his chest indicating he wanted a blessing. He was beaming and later said that this moment was the completion of the Camino for him.

After Communion came the famous Botafumeiro - the giant thurible which hangs from the ceiling of the Cathedral and is swung up the length of the church. Not the most significant moment but a thrill all the same because I got to put the incense into it - two soup ladles full - producing a great cloud of smoke. The smoke of incense represents the prayers of the people. Our group were delighted that I got to do this bit. 

We were all excited when Mass finished, a childlike joy in which we kissed and hugged each other and there was such delight that I had participated in the Mass. We prayed at the tomb of St. James, embraced the statue and got our Camino Certs in the office.

There was lunch afterwards in a restaurant and even though we are not leaving Santiago for another couple of days, there's a palpable sense of ending and parting not being far away. There is a love between us that has surprised me and this can never be taken from us.

On that day the deaf shall hear
the words of a book;
And out of gloom and darkness,
the eyes of the blind shall see.
The lowly will ever find joy in the LORD,
and the poor rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.

(Isaiah 29)

In the afternoon I went out looking in vain for information about the bus to Muxia - the place where the movie 'The Way' ends. In an internet cafe I printed out my boarding pass for Monday's flight and when I checked my email there was a message from Mark giving me the bus times for Muxia. Nice one.

On my way back to the albergue I ran into Olivier who was ecstatic about the Mass and thanked me for bringing Jesus to him. As we were talking, Cornel arrived - our first meeting since he was sick in the albergue a couple of weeks ago. 

December 3, 2011 

Had a great sleep. After breakfast I headed to the bus station for the trip to Muxia, half hoping that Becky & Mark might turn up. Their plan is to go to Finistera and maybe connect with Brend...but what do you know they turn up for the bus to Muxia becasue the other trip would be too long. They assure me that they would not invade my solitude but I'm really glad to be with them, not wanting too much solitude after the emotion and excitement of yesterday.

We had a beautiful day together and Muxia did not disappoint - the church on the edge of the sea, the waves. Wonderful. 

When I got back there was a note on my door from Aelfred who had hoped to see me before he moved on. "I can't or shan't forget those early days of the Camino and our time of walking..." he wrote. It was memorable for me too.

December 4, 2011 Santiago Cathedral 8.45 a.m.

"Even as you Father are in me and I am in you, so let them be in us...that it may become clear to all...that they are loved by you as I am loved by you" (John 17:21, 23)

I have the Cathedral to myself. Beautifully quiet, peaceful, complete. After all the locked doors of the churches of the Camino, here on the last day I am experiencing that embrace that I so desired in the first week. Here I am at home, at one and I am full of gratitude.

A question in the guide book is "have I changed?" as a result of the Camino. Will it make any difference to the way I live my life? Possibly not in any dramatic or visible way. But I have done it - 500 miles over 32 days - alone and in communion with others. There is a new silence, new light, new joy inside me.  

Cathedral 6.15 p.m.

There was a great, happy gathering at the noon Mass. As well as Kathrin, Mark & Becky there were Bilal, Cornel and Harold, plus some new faces. Hugs, laughter, tears - the two Koreans Yesouk and Jinsun Jo cried when they saw me. Yesouk said I always make her cry!!! Lorna has bravely gone on to Finistera.

Eight of us went for lunch. I sent Brend a text to see where he was, telling him we really wanted to see him. He had just arrived in Santiago, so we all met up. Great! 

9.15 p.m. 

The goodbyes are said and the feelings strong. 19 of us went out together for the evening and to my delight Aelfred turned up again. I told him how much I valued our time together in those early days. He was disappointed that he had missed seeing me at the Mass in Santiago on Friday. It still amazes me how much that mattered to those who were there and how word of it spread. Aelfred and Marika have hit it off and I hope it will be good for both of them. I was glad to see him one more time. PY was also with us and he will continue a Camino lifestyle until next May. Good for him.

I never saw Jacquie again after she left to go to Manjarin but I have her belt - a souvenir of her support! There are others too that I lost along the way - Claudine, Jose Miguel, Javier, Michael Lacombe, Pedrp, Joan & Bea - and would love to see again but it's the way of the Camino....

The younger ones were staying out for longer. It was time for me to move on. Bilal came and said "give me another hug. I have no words." He told me during the evening that he will never forget the Mass we celebrated on that Sunday in Hontanas a few weeks ago.

December 5, 2011 Santiago Bus Station 8.30 a.m. 

The Cathedral was open early so I had a quiet time there before breakfast. It's certainly a place of prayer. Went again to the tomb of St. James to say a prayer of thanks and to ask that God's will be done in me.

Harold asked me last night if the Camino made me more tolerant. I said I think I'm fairly tolerant anyway but yes, it has made me more tolerant, more at home with all of the differences I encountered. Maybe too I came closer to Mother Theresa's desire to love others rather than try to convert them; to St. Francis' wish to preach by silence. Harold said I'm the finest priest he ever met. I told him he's full of blarney. He said he means it and I accept that he does. He himself is greatly to be admired for completing the same route as the rest of us - at 80 years of age. An inspiration.

When I told Brend that I would like to keep in touch he looked at me silently, even lovingly with those amazing eyes and said "that would please me very much." 

Becky gave me a doll for my niece Katie and was quite emotional. She and Mark are in a very special way companions of my heart and soul, we are companions in love and faith. We are part of different Christian Churches and I have never been good at Ecumenism but we have shared the best kind of Ecumenism possible. I was, am, the adopted father of the three of them and I have no hesitation in saying how much I love each of them. Nor do I doubt how much they love me.

All of us who walked this Way together are companions even if we never meet again. We belong to each other because we have shared something that no one else in our lives will have shared. We belong, and in belonging it is necessary to let go...

Jin gave me a yellow arrow of the Camino - a little pin that I have attached to my jacket. It points in the direction of my heart which is the path that I will follow on my journey from here. 

"...you will s how me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence,

at you right hand happiness forever." (Psalm 16)