Tag Archives: challenge

Pentecost pilgrims

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It’s always the last mile that’s the hardest! You think you must be there and the end is just around the corner or over the next hill… then it isn’t!

Arriving in Santiago de Compostela was just like this – we’d seen the cathedral towers in the distance way back, the streets were getting narrower and the yellow arrows appeared to have given up. Which way now? Then I spotted a brass scallop shell in the pavement – this was the way. We must be close! The narrow cobbled streets were full of people and it was hard work negotiating a way through with a back pack and walking poles.

At last we were entering the huge piazza and the immense cathedral frontage loomed above us. We’d arrived at the same time as a couple of pilgrims from the Netherlands who we’d be sharing the last few days of the journey with off and on. We all laughed and hugged and said the inevitable congratulations to one another.

Each of us seemed somehow dazed and after taking a few photos we just dropped our rucksacks and sat on the ground looking up at the vast stone towers.

We’d made it. It felt good. All around the square there were groups of pilgrims taking photos, couples hugging, people cheering, while some just sat staring ahead as if they couldn’t believe it was over.

As I limped towards the Pilgrim’s Office to collect my certificate, I was still trying to work out what it was all about. It had been more than a physical challenge, something else was going on and for each of us that would be different.

An hour or two later as I sat in one of the plain wooden pews inside the cathedral gazing up at the huge silver thurible suspended over the altar, I was still wondering what this Camino meant for me.

I have loved being immersed in God’s creation walking through such beauty and variety, from the sandy coastal boardwalks to the steep stone and water trails, with twisting paths beside gushing streams carving a route between moss clad trees and huge boulders. Then being bathed in scented shade through forests of eucalyptus and pines.

I have also loved meeting pilgrims from all over the world – sharing stories, giving encouragement and re-meeting each another throughout the journey. One group of young people from New York, who we had shared a meal with in our very first hostel, were so happy to meet up with us again on that final path into Santiago. The connection with others along the road is a very important part of pilgrimage.

But one thing stands out for me in all this and that has been precious time to talk with God in an unhurried way as I walk. Walking alone surrounded by nature has opened up a window on prayer that has been invaluable. I have loved chatting with God, asking for help, guidance and healing for friends, for family, and for myself. I’ve had a chance to listen to his still small voice whispering through the grasses or reassuring me as I rest my palm against a mossy tree trunk. I’m so grateful for this time and for new perspectives, deeper calm and glimpses of a rhythm of grace I have been searching for.

As we journey back by bus from Santiago to Porto for our flight home, we are speeding past all the hills, valleys and towns we have trailed through these past 14 days. It brought home that it really was quite a long walk!

Yesterday we stood in awe during the Pentecost service in Santiago Cathedral, while the giant thurible flew through the air above us. It was an amazing sight as the cathedral team hauled on the ropes and the smoke from the incense filled the air around us. I’d never seen anything like it. The choral music added to the atmosphere, and with the cathedral packed with worshippers, there was a tangible sense of our prayers rising up to God on this very special Holy Spirit day.

My hope and prayer going home is that this pilgrimage experience will open up a new way of praying and of being – both on and off the Camino.

Camiño light

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There are two kinds of Camino – a fact I discovered quite soon after we began our pilgrimage. There is Camino “heavy” and then there is Camino “light”.

When we set out we decided we’d attempt to do Camino heavy. This means walking the way and carrying everything you will need in your back pack. However little you pack, it’s still too much and by the end of the day your shoulders and basically everything aches!

But there is also Camino light. Pilgrims taking this option will have a company which takes their main luggage on to the next stop and they are then free to just carry their essentials like water, money, a hat and maybe a jumper. These ‘light’ pilgrims have skipped past me on numerous occasions, speeding by in the overtaking lane while I plodded under a bit of a burden. But, it is my Camino and I could have chosen to send my baggage on… I had chosen to tough it out and feel noble.

There are many ways to be humbled. Mine came two days ago when I suffered an injury going down a steep path. No matter how much ice and painkillers I took, I was barely going to be able to walk, let alone carry a heavy pack.

Have you heard the phrase – two are better than one? Actually, it’s a Bible verse from Ecclesiastes 4: “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labour: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.”

Thankfully I am walking the Camino with someone who seems to like me quite a lot and does a good job of holding me up when I fall down. I didn’t send my backpack on via taxi, but I was able to offload most of my heavy stuff into my husband’s rucksack.

Suddenly, here I was walking Camino light!

Yesterday we set off on one of the toughest parts of this Camino called the Spiritual Variant. It takes you over the hills to the coast, then you go by boat following the route St James’ body was supposed to have travelled in a miraculous journey in a stone boat, guided by angels, which ended up in the city of Padron. This became the original starting point for the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

As we left the town of Pontevedra there were dozens of pilgrims flowing out of the town in the early morning. I’d never expected it to be so crowded. But as soon as we came to the junction where we turned off on the Spiritual Variant, we were almost alone and we breathed a sigh of relief as we headed into the hills. We were now a bit unbalanced – one of us was on Camino light and the other was on Camino very heavy!

We got through the never ending ups of yesterday and arrived at the monastery of Armenteira, high up in the hills of Galatia. We had made it – injured Camino light and stalwart Camino heavy!

I was hoping for more of the same today, but sadly the pain in my leg worsened. The only option was for the pack to go altogether. I hobbled on “pack less”, (Camino air?) while my military trained husband wore two packs!

Twenty four km later and with about 37,000 steps behind us we arrived at the coast. A swim in the sea was a must and now we are both in Camino ‘rehab’ with a glass of red wine.

There are just two more days of walking left until we reach Santiago… I am hoping the beautiful partnership of light and heavy Camino can stay the course!

now for something completely different

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As the Church of England and much of the media world are focused on the vote on women bishops today, I’m turning my attention to a different challenge.

I’ve put myself into training after rashly deciding to enter for the Bay2Bay swim in about 10 days time. It’s an open water swimming event of one nautical mile (1.9km) from one bay to another on the other side of the island. It happens very early in the morning and everyone wears hats, goggles, long legged serious costumes and lots of Vaseline. Last year I watched my son head into the water amidst the crowd, like a waddle of penguins (yes, that is the official group name), they rushed towards the water and soon became a blur of white water heading out to sea. It looked a bit like a mass shark attack – but that wouldn’t be a happy thought. At the time, I thought, I should do that next year – although it did look a slightly scary and a long way round the cliff lined bay to the next.

So, 12 months on I have been training – after finding myself committed late one night in the bar, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. But I’ve always enjoyed swimming and thought I was probably OK at it. That was before I joined a couple of mates at the pool. As I launched into the water attempting my very best breaststroke, I was a little put off to find them passing me on either side, heads bobbing up and down rhythmically at a speed I couldn’t hope to match. ‘Oh dear’, or words to that effect, I thought, maybe I shouldn’t be doing this…it will take me all day.

Back home in a smaller pool I attempted to perfect my breaststroke. Someone was on hand with lots of tips… my knees weren’t coming up tightly enough, I needed to push back with my feet flat against the water… kick harder, pull the water with your hands… I swear I got slower and more uncoordinated. There was even a video of someone doing breaststroke to watch. It didn’t help.

Next session, I tried to kick harder and wider and pull more with my arms. I ended up nearly disjointing my hips. I decided to risk it and try front crawl instead – the stroke most of the swimmers were ploughing up and down the pool with. After three or four strokes I almost drowned, I couldn’t breathe… so it was back to my tortoise-like breaststroke.

Last week I was pleased to be able to complete 50 lengths in 50 minutes – that was progress. My goggles had stopped leaking…someone pointed out I had them on upside down! There was a bit of a set back when we discovered the 64 lengths we had been aiming at had turned into 78… as a nautical mile is longer than an ordinary mile. The real test, we were told, would be trying to swim in the sea.

So on Saturday I set off as early as possible to a nearby bay, to see if I could go the distance in the waves. A line of marker buoys marked the route across – which was 400 metres – I would need to do this four and half times to cover the equivalent distance for the Bay2Bay. This time I had a hat, goggles and my secret weapon ‘natural buoyancy’…

Strangely enough, because I float so easily, swimming in the sea was easier. Apart from swallowing a lot of salt water and the waves pushing me in the wrong direction, I soon got into a rhythm. My spotter from the shore hardly recognized the white cap bobbing up and down as it moved across the bay – Michael Phelps eat your heart out. Although I don’t think his bottom was quite as high out of the water as mine. I did it. But that was just the practice.

The challenge now is to keep up the training and my nerve for the event next week.

In the meantime, I’m hoping and praying the CofE rises to its own challenge and finally agrees to allow women to become bishops. If it does, I’ll be tempted to marker pen a mitre on my swimming cap as a tribute next Friday.