May 1st

Wanted to reflect on the shift I experienced yesterday, after Güemes. It started so happily. Walking off alone but caught up by the four youngsters who loved my flute-ing, and fell into conversation with Fabio (Italy, Torino/ Nottingham PhD in atom physics/ San Sebastian, daughter Gaia), Daniel (Stuttgart/ grief over unborn child). I separated off when they took a long break to chat with an old friend; French older man (the translator in the pic) talked about Camino starting points in France and the Gîte/food experiences.
Glorious cliffs above thundering waves.
Long, long beach! Rain! Dry with my umbrella, and absolutely content, singing. Childhood songs. Glad that I live, am I. Morning has broken. Antonio, Antonio!
Lois, 30 today.
Boat to Santander, lovely Belgian couple with trolley for breathing apparatus.
Cathedral.
Soup.
I'm loved. Hold my heart open, holding courage to not shut down again. Luca. 31 years.
Tears. Thankyou, strong tree.
Valle verde de Peña. Rockface ... hard, yet crevices permit flowers to grow, and it feels like mutual gratitude. I support you, you adorn me. Sweet.
KyeSoo trudges past, we leapfrog each other; no chat, but our shared smiles encourage me.
Lonnnnng last section ... rather unfriendly reception. Nice rooms, only 5 beds. Stumbled on a step.
Video call with Luca. My husband. He's lonely at weekends. Yeah. I'm glad.
A bit bleak until the French trio comes in and it's all gladness.
Why didn't Jacques offer me wine?!

Pierre, in the dorm: "what does pilgrimage means to you?". He smiles at the question. “C’est spirituel, et c’est le moment present”. Talked little but both sensed the longing and searching as well as the not-like-most-people experience.
Some under-the-duvet tears, and sleep.Meer informatie