How appropriate this one for a Camino blog! Enjoy!!

The French Way

The title to this piece may be confusing, so let’s clear it up right now — I mean the Camino in France, and not the Camino Francès. And I mainly mean my own Camino from Lourdes to Somport than anything else.

About the Camino itself, the thing that has really struck me is how Catholic the Way from Lourdes to Somport actually is — I have never seen such a strong Catholic presence anywhere else along any Camino routes, and I do not mean just locally, but over this entire section of the Way.

This did not strike me simply as some sort of anthropological curiosity — No.

My passage from Lourdes to Spain has truly been a passage from the familiar to the foreign via the religious and via the spiritual that makes all of these disparate things, from whichever modern point of view of our minds, into the deeply religious Christian Worship of God as He provides us with such a simple Wealth.

I cannot help but be delighted that somewhere, at least, on this Camino, its Catholic Christian nature is openly celebrated, and not hidden away.

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As for the Somport Way in and for itself, in its non-religious aspects, there are around 1% of the Pilgrims at SJPP and &c. The GR version of this Way is even more annoying than usual, as the French Hiking Federation volunteers seem as keen as always to send their victims into sundry mud slides, up some uselessly difficult 5 km detours up whichever mountain madness, and to generally assume that all Santiago Pilgrims are lunatic masochists. Except no, some of us aren’t !!!

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My days seem to be gradually lessening in difficulty, though it’s a long slog — I am nevertheless very pleased to report that my knees appear not to be bothering me on this Camino too much …

So Far !!!

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I have feasted my departure from France as well as my arrival in Spain — these Borderlands may be spiritually nourishing, as suggested hereabove ; but they also mess up your normalcy !!!

I was on my walk the other morning and I heard someone calling out to me.

I turned to see that it was a lovely lady who lives nearby. My wife and I have known her for years, and the previous weekend she’d invited us to her house, along with some friends, for dinner.

The woman’s name is Lesley, she used to own one of the top wineries in the district, and  she’s a wonderful cook. As we walked into her beautiful house on the river in Mudgee, odours wafted through from the kitchen. She told us proudly that she’d been cooking two shoulders of organic lamb for the past six hours.

Pulled lamb, she called it. Because the flesh would pull away from the bone, due to the slow cooking.

I’ve been vegetarian ever since I got that very strange message while meditating at the Yogananda Self-Realization Temple in Pacific Palisades, Los Angeles. That was two months ago.

The message was clear and immediate: If you’re about to eat meat, look into the eyes of that animal and ask yourself if you feel comfortable killing it for food. 

I wrote a blog at the time. Here it is –

Epiphany of a meat-eater.

Ever since that message, I haven’t eaten meat. I’ve eaten seafood now and again, but I’ve had no meat, no chicken or poultry, and certainly no lamb.

I love lamb. There’s nothing more delicious than roast lamb, lamb cutlets, lamb korma curry, rack of lamb and slow-cooked pulled lamb.

But I also love baby lambs.

As I walk around Mudgee, I often see baby lambs frolicking in the paddocks. I couldn’t bring myself to kill one – whether it be for food or for any other reason. I just couldn’t kill a baby lamb.

We sat down for dinner, and I had the lamb. Didn’t say a word. And it was delicious. Lesley suggested I have seconds, and I didn’t say no.

So the other morning when she yelled out to me, I walked over and thanked her once again for the beautiful meal – and mentioned to her that it was the first time I’d eaten meat in two months.

She asked why, and I told her the story of the Yogananda Temple and the message I’d received. She was mortified. She began to apologise profusely.

“You should have told me,” she said. “I would have cooked you something vegetarian.”

I laughed and said it wasn’t a problem. “You’d spent a long time preparing that meal, you’d put a lot of thought and love into it, and I was a guest in your house. The least I could do was appreciate the meal you’d cooked for us all, without any fuss, and thank you gratefully.”

Still she was mortified.

I explained to her that refraining from eating meat was a decision I’d made after receiving that message, but I wasn’t going to be obsessive about it. The message wasn’t Don’t eat meat,” it simply told me to give consideration to the life of the creature that would be killed for my food.

I could argue that the lamb had already been killed for that dinner.

I could also argue that I love eating lamb.

I could also argue that I’m weak and a hypocrite.

But I could argue as well that I’d prefer to live in the real world, a world of moderation, and walk what the Buddhists call the Middle Path.

I haven’t eaten meat since that night. And I have no plans to do so. But if I was presented with a similar scenario, I’d eat what’s put in front of me – without complaint.

And I’d be grateful.

Word seems to have spread about the fun we had on the Portuguese Camino tour – because we are now fully booked for the Assisi Tour in April of next year.

If you’re interested, you can put your name down on a wait list in case anyone drops out.

We’re putting together another Portuguese Camino Tour in October, if anyone is interested. We’re already starting to fill that up.

Our beautiful and hilarious local liaison van driver / translator / parking in tow-away-zones lass, Catarina, will be on board again – subject though to us getting sufficient numbers.

After the Assisi Tour, we’re planning a Celtic Camino Tour possibly in the 2nd half of next year. That will involve a series of ancient pilgrimage walks around the West Coast of Ireland, which is a spectacularly beautiful part of the world.

But right at the moment we’re filling up the next Portuguese Camino, which will kick off out of Porto towards the end of October. So email me if you’re interested at –

billpgsblog@gmail.com

Bill Bennett.

LOURDES

The Camino this time is still continuing to be very nice with me, which is most encouraging !!

The hitch-hike from Saint-Gilles to Lourdes was lightning quick (well, apart from the bit where I managed to head the wrong way on foot LOL), and Oscar, who took me most of the way, to within 10 miles of Lourdes, is an Italian bike pilgrim who will have done his first Camino stage today.

I arrived in Lourdes at about 6 PM last night, then immediately found a place selling Chimay gold top, a beer I had been wishing to taste for roughly 20 years, but even that pleasure was unable to lessen the beautiful joy of the Lourdes Pilgrim Hostel, as it is simply, and hands down, the BEST I have ever stayed in.

The internal wooden architecture instantly tells you that this isn’t just any old Refugio — while you’re here, it’s Home. The wonderful Jean-Louis is keeping it mostly single-handed, on a Donativo basis, and he provides not just a wonderful breakfast and a superb home-cooking supper — but also his fatherly kindness and warmth, so that his stuff is your stuff, his kitchen your kitchen, and your Camino is his joy.

Last night I was the only Pilgrim in the main dormitory, and there was only one other pilgrim in the Hostel — tonight though there is a mix, seven of us, four starting still Lourdes, two having walked in from beyond, and the last being a foot pilgrim to Lourdes who has therefore just finished his hike.

Five of us are walking on out tomorrow, so I’ll see which I’ll be bumping into along the Way …

I attended a Traditional Latin Mass this evening, just down the road, which naturally turned out to be the Mass of the Transfiguration, which is one of the most important Saint James Masses of the year (among many other aspects of course hehehe).

Looking terribly forward to start the Camino in the morning.

Julian Lord has started his journey.

Julian first walked the Camino in 1992 – and then two years later. And then several times since. The Way when he first walked was vastly different to how it is today.

If there is such a thing as a “true” pilgrim, then Julian ticks all the boxes.

He will be posting regularly on this blog as he makes his way from Lourdes to Santiago, and then back again – or at least, part of the way back.

He’s an extraordinary fellow, and I feel very privileged to be able to host his writings here. So this is his first post from the road, on his way to Lourdes….

E Sus Eia At Last

Well — I’ve started !!!

First hike this morning was a short 4 km one from home to Monaco station, where I purchased my el cheapo ticket to Arles — which is where I’ll pick up my Credencial. Not sure how I’ll move on this evening towards Lourdes, though I am starting to think the wonderful Refugio in Saint Gilles might be a good place to make a night of it.

Feels a little strange today, as after all the anticipation and physical preparation and the various ups and downs over the past year since I decided to make this new Camino, somehow I hadn’t fully realised that this is my first pilgrimage since 1993 starting NOT from my front door !!!

I am of course pleased to bits right now, not least because this train I’m on has electrics and network (hence the blogging), and I am at last on my Way, but there’s still a part of my purist little self that thinks it’s cheating, whereas there’s another little part of me that’s thinking “Wow, I’ve just started my journey home…”

This time anyway, Santiago will be more than just the apex and half-way point symbolically, but also physically and geographically, as Marie-Dominique and I will be walking back to France from there. So this Camino, on my first day, is already its own beast, and is already unique in its own right.

So in fact it’s even a positive this time to start differently, and quite apart from any of the physical difficulties I’ll be facing, it’s good that the mental difficulties of the Camino should be a little less harsh this time.

Looming forward to Arles this afternoon, Lourdes tomorrow, to starting the walking Wednesday or Thursday, looking forward to hitting the Spanish Camino, and greatly looking forward to the rendez-vous and the walking together with Marie-Do.

I think this will be a buen Camino ;o)

Today’s stage is also full of personal memory for me, as this lovely el cheapo ticket requires travelling old style, from station to station, rather than just getting into a single train or plane and waking up on arrival.

I’m doing some food shopping and stuff along the line as I wait for the next train, and remembering how all train journeys were once like this, and revisiting many familiar sights and experiences. These memories are mixed with this day’s new experience as well as mixing with the memories of my Caminos past, and with that of our first arrival down here in the South of France at Saint Raphael station where I am typing these extra lines.

Of course, this Camino will not be always so nostalgic, but that’s most certainly how it is starting. It is as comfortable as it is full of hope for this Camino that I am only just starting to live.

I firmly believe that you don’t choose a book to read, the book chooses you.

If you let it.

When I go into a bookstore, I walk up to a shelf and I wait for the book to jump out into my hands. And it does. And by that I mean, the book yells out to me:

READ ME!

There are times when I’ve finished a book, and I’m considering what next to read, so I’ll go to my library and look at those books that I’ve bought but not yet read, and I ask what book shall I read? And the same thing happens: the book calls out to me.

With my Kindle, and also with my Audible (audiobooks) library, it’s the same deal – if I’m ready to take in what the book will give me, then it calls to me.

There are times in our lives when we meet someone, and we feel a connection, but we know we’re not ready for them. Or they’re not ready for us. Whether it’s a romantic relationship, or business, or simply a friendship – each person you meet, you learn from. But sometimes you’re not ready for the lessons they’ll give you – or you will give them.

And you sense that the relationship is destined for another lifetime.

It’s the same with books. Each book comes into your life for a purpose – whether it be just for amusement and entertainment, or knowledge, or wisdom. Or growth.

If you allow your PGS to guide you, you’ll be taken to the right books at the right time – for whatever purpose you might require from that book.

When I was seventeen, my parents took me to Tokyo. It was my first trip overseas, and we stayed in a fancy hotel. I remember opening up the drawer beside my bedside and finding a little black book – The Buddhist Bible. 

Curious, I read the book. It changed my life. It set me on a path of reading and study that would inform my young and pliable world view. That book chose me. I have no doubt.

I still have that book –

I’ve had a copy of Autobiography of a Yogi for years. I read it a long time ago, but in retrospect I wasn’t ready for it.

Now in preparation for my filming trip to India, I’m reading it again on my walks each morning, via my iPod and Audible.

I’m finding wisdom in the book that I wasn’t ready for before.

But now I am.

Why does life become more difficult as you get older?

Why don’t things fall your way anymore – like they used to when you were younger?

Why do you lack the courage to do things – things you once would have done without hesitation thirty or forty years ago?

Barnacles.

Yes, barnacles.

We’re like a ship, steaming through life’s waters. And as the years go by, barnacles begin to form on our hull, under the waterline.

Out of sight.

Barnacles and seaweed, which capture the flotsam and jetsam of our worldly experiences.

This debris of life clings to us.

It slows us down, makes us less manoeuvrable.

Less nimble.

It makes us cautious, hesitant, scared.

It tries to stop us going places we once went without a moment’s thought.

The barnacles finally get so thick we can’t move forward.

They burden us with their heaviness. We carry that heaviness with us as we struggle through our later years.

Finally, we give up.

But we can scrape those barnacles off.

We have to scrape them off, if we want to become nimble again.

If we want to be unafraid again.

We can do this, by walking the Camino.