Puenta la Reina to Torres del Rio…

Needless to say my work at the parish is keeping me from being as timely on this as I would like. And with closing on our house tomorrow we see how I am able to keep up. 

10 June 2013                     Puenta la Reina to Villamayor de Monjardin.

This walk was one of the most beautiful of the entire Camino; rolling hills, orchards, vineyards, and wild flowers. Aoífe got separated from the others today and stayed at an albergue run by a group from the Netherlands. It was situated on the side of hill below St. Stephen’s Castle, which I came to find out later, they would have given me the keys had I just asked. Obviously it would have been the first time anyone gave me the keys to a castle. Today we also passed the Fuente de Vino, the wine fountain, it was a welcome treat. I took a drink from my scallop shell and mixed about half a jug of wine with water to fortify for the rest of the day.

11 June 2013                   Villamayor de Monjardin to Torres del Rio

On this day I spent most of the day walking alone, it was nice, I needed the day to reflect and daydream. My shins were killing me at this point. The albergue that Fee, Cezar, and I stayed at had a little pool which was ice cold and felt very good on my shins. The church in the town was modeled on the Church of Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, it was a beautiful spot for some quiet prayer and contemplation.

Pamplona to Puenta la Reina…

9 June 2013

This may have been one of my favorite days on the Camino. It rained and rained and rained. The rain this day combined with the rain the day before made for a rather muddy mess. Aoífe and I got a little turned around as we were leaving Pamplona, my guidebook was waterlogged for days. We finally met up with Keith, Matt, and Adam and waited outside of this little cafe waiting for it to open. In the process I swung my backpack into the call buttons and woke up half the apartment building.

At one point the path was about ten inches of water for a quarter of a mile. At another the rain was coming sideways. On our way up towards the iron pilgrims we were holding onto bushes and roots, because the side of the mountain was nothing but mud. I just remember laughing a lot because it was the kind of day that anyone with any sense would have stayed inside.

When we arrived in Puenta, that was when I realized that our little group had become a group. That was a pretty grand realization. At the hostel the brother who was in charge went and found newspaper for everyone’s boots to help them dry. Dinner was also rather hilarious. The waitress did not like Matt at all. And refused to give him a steak a knife. She then thanked me for ordering the piña dessert.

It was a wonderful wet day…

Larrasoaña to Pamplona…

8 June 2013

Rain. Rain. Rain.

Being a lover of Hemingway, I was really excited to see Pamplona and it did not disappoint. From the beautiful little cafes to the citadel the city was lovely. The Jesús y Maria albergue was in an old church that had been redone and it was wonderful. Despite my shin really bothering me I went on a three hour walk around the city.

Two of my favorite memories from that day was stopping for a hot café con leche at El Horno de Iroz, they had a huge woodfired oven and all the pilgrims were hundled under the tiny roof, and the cafe that we all piled into while waiting on the albergue to open, because I checked my email and found out that I had been made a candidate for holy orders.

Roncesvalles to Larrasoaña…

7 June 2013

As I look back through my journal I see a note that my shin was hurting a little at the end of this day. This was the beginning of the shin splints that almost made me quit.

The night in Larrassoaña was the first night that I met Keith, Adam, and Matt meeting them completed our little group that would become so close over the course of the next couple of weeks. The meal that night was fabulous, large communal table, it was my first time having the garlic soup. Garlic soup is just as amazing as it sounds. This night was also the night that we met the two friends from England whose names we debated on for the rest of the journey. The shopkeeper in town, it was the only shop, ran a shop that sold 2 euro fifty wine and that doubled as a bar. One of those two got so drunk that by dinner that he had to be taken back to his bunk.

Before beginning the Camino I had debated what I would tell people if they asked what I did. I was afraid that if I said that I was studying to be clergy that that might turn some people. In my journal entry for this day I noted that it actually opened up some good and interesting conversations.

Saint Jean Pied-de-Port

I knew with being away for a wedding this weekend that I would fall behind almost immediately….

5 June 2013

I travelled by train from Paris to Saint Jean where I would begin my pilgrimage. At the TGV station in Paris, I began to see my fellow pilgrims boarding the train; the backpacks and walking poles gave away a persons identity. The journey by train was fabulous, it was so lovely to sit by the window and watch the countryside.

Arriving in Saint Jean was stunning… it is a lovely region, the Pyrenees rising in the distance and a city streets older than America. I remember seeing the scallop shells marking the way. I stayed at a lovely little hostel “L’Esprit du Chemin”. There a was a lovely communal dinner. The sleeping was not so great though, probably both due to nerves and the guy in the room who snored constantly. Which was not an experience unique to that evening.

There was so much excitement and hope in the air, that it was difficult to resist the urge to just start walking.

Paris

So I will start by apologizing in advance… the next few days I am traveling from Pittsburgh to Chicago to Cincinnati and back to Pittsburgh; my chances to write may be limited but I will do my best to find a little time each day.

4 June 2013… Paris

I spent a day in Paris before taking the train to Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, what an amazing city. I was given a ring for good luck from the Gypsy Queen (that’s for you Aoífe!), had dinner at a wonderful little restaurant recommended by a friend, attended Vespers at Notre Dame, and sat by the Seine as a wrote in my journal. I walked all around Paris that day, it was weird to be away from my wife, but I was so anxious and excited to get on that train the next morning.

A journey back to the Camino…

A year ago today, I was at the airport in Austin, Texas waiting to board my flight to Paris; I had just found out that Annie and I were having a girl and I was contemplating what it was going to be like being away from my quite pregnant wife for such a long time.

Over the next few weeks my plan is to reflect upon each day of my journey towards Santiago de Compostela, both in words and with pictures posted from the journey. My journal while on pilgrimage was a Moleskine that was a gift from my Momma Jules with a map of the Lonely Mountain on the front.

I wrote this as I sat in the airport… “This journal is a gift from Momma Jules. My hope is that this journey will be as transformative as Bilbo’s, but perhaps with slightly fewer orcs and no dragons.”

I had no idea just how transformative it would be…

Tears…

The last few days have been really hard to put into words. My journal has been uncannily blank for a couple of days as well.

The arrival in Santiago de Compostela was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. When I walked through the tunnel, with the sounds of the Galician bagpipes in my ears, to enter the plaza on the west face of the Cathedral every emotion imaginable swelled up inside of me.

I laughed and cried at the same time. My body and my heart did not know what to feel. Eventually I collapsed onto the ground and cried for about 20 minutes, in awe of the journey that I had just undertaken. I was not surprised that I cried, because for almost the entire 39 kilometers walk, I would randomly feel the emotion welling up inside of me.

After collecting myself a bit, I made my way to the Officia de Peregrinos to show my credential and receive my Compostela. Aoífe, Fee, Cezar, Lucy, and Sara arrived a while after I did. Then we hugged and marveled that after 29 days there we stood. And I cried some more.

Friday the Pilgrim’s Mass, a mass at the Cathedral for the peregrinos who have just completed the pilgrimage, was very special. I sat with Aoífe and Lisa, and saw many pilgrims that I had walked with at some point over the course of the journey. And you have probably sorted out the theme here, so you already know that I cried again.

Saturday morning I left Santiago for Finisterre. It was a 3 day walk out there. It was ridiculously hot, but the sunset last night made it worth every step. There were four of us who were together almost every step of the Camino. We had a picnic and watched as the sun slowly dipped right into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There is no chance that I can do justice to the beauty of that miracle.

After staying out late and saying goodbye to Aoífe, Fee, and Cezar I made my way along to the coast to Muxía today. It is a beautiful and quiet seaside town, well as being another traditional spot to continue to after arriving at Santiago de Compostela.

The walk today was a little odd because I knew I was not going to see one of my close group for the first time in weeks. So it felt a bit like the start of something new. Tomorrow morning will be even weirder as I walk into the sunrise for the first time in 35 days.

Time to walk down to the point and see the remains of the stone boat that the Virgin Mary sailed here in when she same to help Saint James with his ministry.

And do not worry… I will probably cry some more before I leave Spain. But they are good tears, tears born of prayer, love, and wonderment.

On the road again…

Well after a hard earned rest day in Leon, I was back on the road again today. The day into Leon was quite a long day, I walked 43 kilometers which is a marathon. The walk was good except for the last three kilometers into the city that was a little rough.

The 40 kilometers before that were beautiful though. A lot of it was on an old Roman road, the longest stretch still in existence. It was a little daunting to think of the millions of feet that had walked across those same stones. I could almost hear those other footsteps as I made my way along the path.

Leon was an amazing city. It may be may favorite city and cathedral in Spain so far. I hope to have a chance to return some day to visit it more fully.

The timing was also very fortunate as there was a huge festival going on and yesterday was a bank holiday there. So live music and street performers were everywhere. Our gang came back together in Leon, minus Keith and Adam, and it was really great to hang out with everyone again. I enjoyed Leon so much that I decided a couple things for the daughters were in order. Which is saying something when you have two hundred plus miles to carry them still.

The town that I am stopped is not much, but this albergue is quite nice. Very clean, not always the case, not full, and the meal was freshly made and very tasty. There is also a giant lab that is *guarding* the door.

He is a little tough to see but he is sneaky like that.

After staying out till four Sunday night and my getting to bed before 11:30 last night, I am very much going to bed early tonight. Tomorrow will take me through Astorga, the last big town before Santiago de Compostela. I will also cross a bridge that a knight once held against all foes, until 300 lances had been broken, thus restoring his honor. It should be another great day on the Camino.

One more shot of the cathedral.

Halfway from nowhere, halfway there, halfway home… starting the second half.

Well today was kind of big day while walking through Sahagún we passed the halfway point of the Camino. We are a bit passed halfway but the Spanish only count from Roncesvalles, not from Saint Jean Pied-de-Port in France.

That is me standing in between the statues that mark the halfway point. It was a neat experience to physically stand there in the threshold of the next phase of the Camino.

And the pilgrimage feels like it is about halfway… It has been really great and challenging and wonderful and tiring. I have enjoyed it though. I have found myself being drawn to walking alone a bit more recently.

The time in silence is welcome. Seminary and life in general is so full of words. The Camino has provided a space to empty some of that out and to take a chance to jut listen for the song of creation and the voice of God. That has been one of my most favorite parts of this journey. Praying and waiting, watching and showing, and listening and speaking to the Creator.

**Now**

*Live for the present moment, which is where life is to be lived and God’s presence is to be known. The future – if indeed we are given a future – will come out of today. And we will need every moment of today to prepare us for the possibility of tomorrow.

-Br. Curtis Almquist*

This came in my email a day ago and it it really pertinent to this journey. It is important and fundamental to remember that today, the now, is the gift of pilgrimage. The arrival at Santiago de Compostela will be amazing but the real lessons of the pilgrimage will likely occur on some lonely rocky path, a café with friends, or in a church older than my country.

The image of the *tiger pilgrim* really jumped out at me today. My mom used to call me Tiger Joe when I was little, so it was a bit of a throwback to my childhood. Which fits in with one of my focus points for this pilgrimage.

In the last two days a lot of the scenery has looked like Benton County, the farmland where I was raised, right down to the John Deere tractors that were in the fields. It was quite powerful to have a whole day and a half almost of envisioning myself walking through the land where I was raised.

Switch out the fields of wheat for corn and soybeans and I would have been right at home. But those fields are also not where I belong, I had to keep walking no matter how familiar they felt.

Right before arriving in town today there there was a magical shady grove with a fountain of icy cold water. It was super welcome after having walked without much shade for the last two days.

The Camino, like life, is full of amazing little spots if you take the time to look for them. A lesson that I need to remind myself of everyday, perhaps more often. Because in the most unexpected spots you find amazing things, like the lentil soup made by a bar owner’s mother last night or a really delicious flan this afternoon.

I think it may be time for food.

Wishing you every blessing friends.