Bayonne

A wander through a very beautiful and fashionable city, a baguette at the side of the river, encounter with my first Spanish pilgrims (I almost understood them!), a kindly welcome in a private pilgrims' hostel and my first pilgrimage stamp. A nap, and then the very welcome email confirmation that my rucsac had reached the airport. A galette de sarasin in the evening sun at the ocean, with a glass of Breton cider. Happy adventuring!

Jürgen, retried orthopaedic doctor from Köln, camino frances. Veronique, my host ('le basque est stupide! Est-ce que on parle latin en Italie?!': a political tirade. My french is pretty good, it seems, to understand all that!). Tatiana and Serghei, not yet so lucky with their missing luggage from Canada/Moldova, camino frances. Camille, French pèlerine at the Refuge des Pèlerins, camino del norte.
Carmelite nun, 'vous pouvez entrer l'eglise pour prier'.
Silence, warmth, depth. I lie on the stone floor in tears, no clear reason why, except 'everything'; the sense of embrace, peace. I breathe ... Relief.

I have such a 'story': it seems to be complex and wonderful and awful; but so does every single person I meet. And so does every tree, every flower! What a wonder.

There's welcome for me from so many directions.Read more