This fluffy creature greeted me this morning at the charming Hotel Ramuntcho, as I walked down the stair to the breakfast room. Well she indulged me with a pet but she is very French so I felt somewhat privileged and didn’t push. Today is my last rest day before I embark on the Camino Frances tomorrow with a 15.5 mile trek across the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles. The steepest part of the Camino de Santiago. You can laugh –yes I’m already “resting” and I haven’t even started. But it is a schlepp from Santa Fe, NM to St. Jean Pied de Port just north of the Spanish border. Basque country. I landed in Pamplona 3 days ago, took a bus to SJPdP and will walk (approx) 365 miles to Villafranca del Bierzo, repeating Day 1 of 2017 (Ponferrada to Villafranca) to come full circle on the Camino Frances.
As many of you know last October I walked the last 200km from Ponferrada to Santiago. Life changing and filled with lightness and joy. This year has brought much loss and my heart has grown heavy. This Pilgrimage takes on a true spiritual significance:
- in setting intention
- in being present
- in surrender
I told my sister I am learning to trust and relax. It takes a lot of effort. So much inner dialogue. Wondering if I am overly indulgent? Why didn’t I begin today? Will it rain tomorrow? Do I have the stamina to walk through the Pyrenees? I never doubted my ability until I arrived, after that winding bus ride. I’ve been walking of course but not “up hill” –though perhaps on some level I’ve been training for this moment all my life. If anything, these past few months have taught me to trust my intuition. I resist of course but am learning to surrender to the art of faith and patience.
God bless the angels.
Last night I lit my first candle in a church, ever, in the beautiful Eglise Notre Dame at the end of the cobblestone street. It was glorious. I no longer feel a struggle to define or defend my religiosity. I do not cross myself with the holy water. I do not know the rules. I am not Catholic. I don’t consider myself “Christian” –for the same reasons I do not call myself “Patriotic” –it comes too heavily defined and steeped in perceptions that do not apply. To me. It just is. I am shedding some of my long held fears and self-limiting beliefs. Slowly.
Today my goal was to organize for tomorrow and to enjoy a proper French lunch at the best Cafe in town. And so I did. Cafe Ttipia. I know no French beyond your basic bonjour, merci, au revoir and oui. And on my tongue it feels completely unnatural. Still when in France one must eat. I made my way. It was lovely. Outside by the river. People watching. Families gather after church. A few pilgrims wander. Tourists on a Sunday drive. A kir aperitif and the special sole with gambas served with a side of mushrooms and other vegetables in cream. A glass of rose. Bread. An espresso to finish. I was too full to try the Basque cake.
No I do not know the language. Nor the ritual.
Truly that is one of the most difficult things for me to do –even in Santa Fe — eat alone in a restaurant. This introvert’s dilemma. The downside of solo travel. Well that and the single supplement. Still I am here. Happily. Placing myself into unknown and solitary situations.
I point and smile a lot. The wine is cheap.
I look forward to the community the Camino offers/provides.
You are welcome to follow me on my journey. Buen Camino!