Tag Archives: travel

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.

What to put in your backpack

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What would your ‘must haves’ be if you had to put your stuff into a pack and carry it on your back across the mountains for a few days?

It’s a question I was wrestling with last week in preparation for a rather long walk.

I’d taken out everything except the absolute essentials, but when I heaved the pack onto my back, I knew a few more ‘essentials’ would have to go.

It was the day before we set off on the first stage of the Camino Frances – the full journey is a 500 plus mile walk from France across the Pyrenees into northern Spain, ending at Santiago de Compostela. This time we would only be doing the first gruelling 45 miles or so from St Jean Pied de Port to the bull running Spanish town of Pamplona.

I’d been informed we would have to climb to more than the height of Ben Nevis in the first two days – this might have felt less daunting if it wasn’t for the pack.

So, what was in the bag? Annoyingly a sleeping bag, a travel towel, pants and socks and one extremely light weight change of clothes, flip flops, plus my toothbrush, hairbrush, suncream and that was practically it, apart from the water, oh, and a hat and a waterproof. Then there was the food! It all added up.

It’s been a long time since I walked with a backpack, and it took some time getting used to the weight on my hips and the pull on my shoulders. Still, it was surprising how quickly I adapted and focused less on the weight and more on the views around me and the path ahead.

There is a sense of freedom about stepping out with all you need on your back and heading towards your destination without looking back. We wouldn’t be returning to the cobbled streets of St Jean until we’d reached our destination and grabbed a lift back to the car, which we hoped would be where we’d parked it!

I’ve been wanting to walk the Camino for years, ever since I stumbled out of the cinema in Nottingham, eyes still moist with tears, after watching the film, ‘The Way’.  I remember saying to my companions at the time, “I want to do that!” 

Although I’ve been banging on about pilgrimages and the Camino for years, my husband has remained solidly indifferent to the idea. So, it is a little bit of a miracle that embarking on this four-day ‘mini Camino’ was his suggestion. It conveniently filled a gap in our holiday, when our friends were busy, and gave us a chance to try out our walking abilities in advance of a planned two-week Camino next year from Porto in Portugal to Santiago de Compostela.

What we hadn’t quite taken in was how tough the first few days would be as we hiked up the Napoleon route to a height of 1,400 metres. The good thing about being out of breath is that you’re forced to stop and take in the views – and these were some views. Walking ever upwards, sometimes we were passed by the fast-paced pilgrims and at other times we overtook people taking a break. At one point five of us leaned on a five-bar gate, catching our breath and staring down at where we’d come from. There we were – two Aussies, two Brits and an American – it sounds like a joke, but a few days later we were pilgrim buddies, sharing our day and our lives over coffees, beers and pintxos.

One of the greatest joys on this Camino turned our to be our fellow pilgrims. Sitting across the table on our first evening was an enthusiastic 78-year-old who was walking The Way with her daughter. If she could do it, surely we should be able to? 

The ‘pilgrim supper’ in the hostel, for almost 20 of us, included a delightful mix of nationalities from Japan to Canada and the Netherlands to Australia. Each one had a story to share about why they were walking the Camino and there was a common theme – they all hoped this journey would be one of self-discovery and for many spiritual enlightenment. There was an air of excitement and high emotion that evening, no one knew what lay ahead.

That night we settled down in our wood lined room, items of clothing drying all around us, we hoped we’d be up to the big climbs tomorrow and that the 7am breakfast and dawn start wouldn’t be too much of a shock.

The sea is our home

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Sailing voyages are completely different to anything else… perhaps with the exception of space travel.

We see the world from a new perspective. Surrounded by blue, I’m enjoying the wide open seas and broad horizons. When land emerges, the coast isn’t a beach or a sea front or even a harbour. It’s a line on the horizon. As we come closer we bob past tiny houses in a variety of colours clustering round a hilltop, the trees and bushes appearing like a miniature railway set.

Then eventually we step ashore and everything comes into perspective again. The houses zoom into focus and begin to assume normal proportions, the roads and streets emerge and we breathe in the smell of land.

Yesterday we braved the heat to call in on some of the family holidaying nearby. Following instructions we trudged up a narrow track from the harbour. I inhaled the scent of pine needles and enjoyed the sweet aroma of jasmine as we passed a garden.

Looking for a padlocked gate, we wound our way up an increasingly steep path, eventually coming to a dead end at a gate into a large house. We must have gone wrong… of course there was no phone signal to call and check. We were sure we were close and started to call out, before retracing our steps. Getting lost has been a favourite pastime of mine, but this time it wasn’t long before I heard a shout from lower down the track.

“You’ve gone too far!”

With a guide to follow we began a steep climb up the hillside, through the “unlocked” gate, plodding up a line of steps reaching as far as we could see.

“There’s a pool at the top,” our son encouraged us, as drops of sweat raced down my cheeks like rain.

“It’s not much further… honestly!”

I paused on one of the many terraces lined with olive trees – it was beautiful. Behind us I glimpsed the shimmering blue of the sea twinkling between the trees.

At the top the view was spectacular and there was iced coffee to enjoy. Through the gaps in the trees we looked down on a lone Pura Vida, bobbing happily in the bay. Perhaps she was enjoying the space from her passengers!

The climb up was worth its weight in gold, as we enjoyed a refreshing swim and great company in the setting of an authentic Italian villa, complete with a long table on the terrace overlooking the sea. It was strange to be on land for so long, but before we had time to get used to it, we were back on board ready for the next leg of the journey.

Departure was slightly delayed by a little engine trouble. A few hours was spent rolling in the bay, while oil was pumped out and then replaced… I’ll spare the technical details!

So, late afternoon we waved goodbye to familiar faces and the hillside villa to move around the next headline in search of a quiet bay, where we hoped for a peaceful night.

For now our world is on the sea again. Land, towns and villages seem like alien places. The sea and the waves are our windows and our garden. The wind is our road taking us on to the next destination and it’s our comfortable place.

Who’s afraid of alligators?

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An alligator encounter was on my mind when I set out on a canoe expedition on my second day in Florida.

Having been assured by the man handing out the life vests and paddles, that they were unlikely to bother us “as long as we didn’t go feeding them”, we set out down the river fairly confidently. The same man had told us that we wouldn’t need a map, as there was no chance of getting lost in the river… If his tips about navigation turned out to be as accurate as his alligator advice, we were in trouble!

My colleague and I had decided to take in the natural beauty of a riverside location before the start of a week of meetings. Paddling out on the tranquil, if rather brown looking river, seemed like the perfect way to get over jetlag and soak up the sights and sounds of Florida’s wildlife.

Apart from alligators, we’d been told we might see dolphins and manatees, so our eyes were peeled. I hadn’t done my homework on manatees and kept calling them Manta Rays. To be honest, I really wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, even if the water had been clear.

Paddling gently didn’t seem to require much effort as we glided with the outgoing tide leaving the lawns and riverside houses behind, the river widened out and the banks were filled with overhanging trees and thick roots mining their way into the shadowy water.

We’d set out first thing to avoid the midday heat and intended to spend a leisurely hour or two on the river. After spotting a few dolphins fishing just ahead of us, we also spend time looking at various big birds perched on trees beside the water. A couple of pink and white ones turned out to be spoonbills and we were certain we saw some kind of white headed eagle, there were also herons and egrets. It was very peaceful, with hardly any other boats in sight.

After less than an hour, we enjoyed a break from the sun under the shade of a road bridge, where we decided to turn back. We’d been paddling back upstream for some time, when we both thought the journey back seemed to be taking longer – surely we should be starting to see houses and lawns running down to the water again by now? The sun was getting stronger and our water supplies lower, I tugged my hat down and was thankful I’d put on sunscreen.

“I don’t remember this bit, do you?”

Something was wrong. We realised we must have taken a wrong turn and spotted a different stretch of water just across another bank. We wondered if it was the main river. We definitely hadn’t been this way before. We’d been out more than two hours at this point and decided to pull up the canoe – alligators or not – and see if we could work out where we were, even if it involved dragging the canoe across to the right part of the river. There were no boats about and no houses… no one to ask. So, we did the normal thing and got out a phone to check on google maps for our location. What a relief we’d taken a phone for photos!

It was however, a bit of a shock to realise we were a long way off course, down a parallel tributary and long way from where lunch was being served with the rest of our team!

The way back felt hard. The wind was against us, the tide was ebbing out and the heat had intensified. I wasn’t thinking alligators, I was just thinking, “Please let’s find the right route back!” 

We spotted a huge cross in the distance which we’d seen before and began heading towards it, only for it to disappear again. Distracted by dolphins, birds and boats speeding down parallel waterways, we continued to flounder and decided it was time to stick rigidly to google maps, checking every turn, so that we wouldn’t end up spending the night on the river. (Where are the RNLI when you need them?)

We were tiring too after more than three hours paddling in over 30 degrees. Steering became a bit of a problem and after being directed down yet another dead-end tributary by a couple sunbathing in their boat, our patience was beginning to fray. The canoe ploughed into more mangrove branches than I care to admit and at one point we had to shuffle through the shallows because we were too tired to get out and lift the canoe.

When we eventually turned the corner and saw the other canoes pulled up on the grass it was a huge relief to make land after more than four hours on the river. Thankfully there was a swimming pool to cool off in and plenty of astounded colleagues to hear our story and shake their heads… There seemed to be one common denominator in recent expedition errors and getting lost and that was me!

We heard a news report later that same day, about how a woman’s torso had been found in the mouth of an alligator not far from where we’d been paddling. That felt a little close for comfort.

A week or so later, I had second thoughts about borrowing paddleboards offered by the bed and breakfast place. They had wanted us to sign a disclaimer and said, “Be aware – the waters are murky, and you are not at the top of the food chain!” 

I did eventually spot a little alligator down in the Everglades – safely viewed from the seat of an airboat. That was quite enough alligators for one trip!

A taste of travel

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Are you a traveller at heart? Do your feet itch to take off on adventures? Do you follow the path of planes as they disappear into the blue, wishing you were flying off somewhere? Sometimes that’s me.. Almost two weeks … Continue reading →