Day 42 & 43, resting

It was probably a mistake to think I’d be more coherent after 48 hours. I am much more rested but I’m still feeling quite emotional and quite confused.
Yesterday morning Fiona and I went to the English language mass at the Pilgrim’s Office where we were greeted by an elderly Irish volunteer called Joan. I told her how disappointed I was by what happened at the cathedral service the night before and she was very receptive and promised to pass a message on through the pilgrim office. The mass here was everything we could have hoped for. It was a much smaller affair and felt intimate because everyone was asked to introduce themselves at the start and invited to speak when it came to bidding prayers. Many did and revealed their reason for doing the Camino - one couple were praying for sick child, an older woman was praying for a family member with an addiction. The priest was thought-provoking, generous-spirited and inclusive. When it came to communion he specially invited non-Catholics for a blessing and took so long with Fiona (and the others, I think) that, for some time, the queue ground to a halt. Fiona was in tears again and said afterwards she really felt she was blessed.
In the afternoon I had a one-to one conversation with Joan, the older woman we’d met as we arrived. She’s a nun who works with refugees in Dublin and was in Santiago for a fortnight as a volunteer. I talked to her about my nascent spiritual awakening, if that’s what it is, and found her wise, generous and calming. It felt like a valuable hour.
In the evening we met up with Rachel who we’d last seen in Leon (about half way) and the three of us swopped our reflections of the Camino - all of us, I think, still processing things. Anna from Canada stopped by to say goodbye. She’s off to Finisterre and hopefully might see Fiona again before she flies to The Philippines to spend a month with her grandmother.
After dinner we went back to the Cathedral where Rachel directed a little photoshoot to ensure Fiona and I had some happier pictures then the ones we’d managed the day before. They are so much more joyful, perhaps it’s a pity we have already shared the pictures of our exhausted and discombobulated selves arriving yesterday. In a way both capture the churn of emotions - delight and sadness are both in the mix even days later.
This morning (Wednesday) Richard arrived before we’d even had breakfast. His flight from London left at 5.30am and he was remarkably good humour for one who had to get up at 2.30. We had breakfast, visited a Romanesque church, enjoyed a coffee at the Paradour and then did a tour of the cathedral roof. There was just time for a quick but delicious salad before I dashed back to the hotel to meet an American couple, Karen and John, with whom I was sharing a taxi to the airport. Only a couple of days ago we had walked past the airport on our way to Santiago - now it seemed too much to carry my rucksack a couple of kilometres to the bus station.
I am delighted for Fiona that Richard is with her now and they have another week which will include more wonderful walking. For myself, it feels a wrench to be leaving although I know my body needs a rest.
I will miss the simple rhythm of life on the Camino - getting up early, walking for an hour or two before breakfast, meeting fellow travellers on the way, hours without anything you have to think about, following the yellow arrows, eating your fill without worry, drinking beer and wine without guilt, visiting a new place every day, sleeping in a new bed every night and most nights, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow and waking up just before the alarm at 6am. Maybe the best thing of all was the time walking on your own without listening to a podcast or an audio book when your mind just drifts. It’s not that this has resulted in any great thoughts. It’s more then while your body was working, the rest of you was resting and that’s quite unusual in adult life. Right now I feel I’ve been refreshed by all that mental blankness.
I’m finishing this off on the plane with Northern Spain about to recede as we approach the coast. They say in Santiago that the real Camino begins when you get home. I have no idea what that means or how long the benefits I am feeling will last. But for now, at least, I too feel blessed.Lue lisää