63
Part 2
My walking stick is a foot shorter in disinterested in conversing. A merry
length, I am 2 stones lighter in weight French guy named Patrick says he’s
& my bag is now half the weight due departing from St Jean and hasn’t yet
to my recent obsession with leaving started walking. There is warmth in his
things behind. I am full of hope for the smile but I notice sadness in his eyes.
way ahead & I have never been so clear Then there is Laura from Valencia with
about which direction to take in my life. a smile as wide as an ocean. She has
On arrival to St Jean Pied De Port walked from Switzerland along the
I head straight for the Confraternity of St ancient route.
James building on Rue De La Citadelle Laura and I sit outside together for
to register my pilgrimage & pick up quite some time. She is very happy to
my official pilgrims passport. This is a meet someone who resonates with
document all pilgrims must carry as a her understanding of life. Robert is a
way of being able to sleep in the many devout Christian & they have been
cheap pilgrim hostels along the way. walking together for quite some time. I
As I arrive at the building I approach say to her, “There are no books written
a very welcoming looking room. The that can communicate your truth, only
door is wide open and inside I can see you can do that”. She smiles. I say “It
many other pilgrims loitering around is amazing isn’t it? As we walk towards
looking at maps. It suddenly feels very Santiago day by day, moment by
strange to be surrounded by people all moment the world provides us with
walking to Santiago after being almost whatever we need, it is all a matter of
completely alone in my journey for 2 listening. As we listen more intently
months. I boldly march up to one of the to the earth, our surroundings & the
desks & announce that I have come for people around us, our prayers are
a passport. A kindly old French man answered & we are never left wanting.
wearing spectacles smiles warmly and The world takes care of us!” I tell her of
points towards the chair in front of his some of my experiences. “Like in France
desk. He asks me where I came from when I was hungry & needed food, the
& I tell him that I started in London. He moment my need for food arose I turned
stares at me with a smiling sparkle in his around to find a French man offering
eye & says quietly but with fervour, ‘Bon me free bread. Or when one day I had
Courage’. a headache and wished I had some
As I sit outside the auberge (hostel) Paracetamol, a few minutes later a car
that has been allocated to me, I feel a drove past at speed. I saw them throw
slight pang of anxiety as I hear other something from the window, curiously
pilgrims talking inside. I would like to I ran over and I picked up the small box
introduce myself but I decide to take a that had been thrown out. It was an
moment to relax with myself. Sitting on unopened box of Paracetamol!” She tells
the medieval cobble stoned street, I look me several similar stories about needing
at the clear night sky and say thank you things and then those things magically
to the stars for guiding me this far. appearing as if sent by a divine force. We
Later, I enter the building & with bask joyfully in our shared experiences.
great energy introduce myself to The following day is a gruelling
the three pilgrims who now stand in 27km hike over what Europeans would
front of me. Robert, an East German, call a mountain (Tibetans might call it a
nonchalantly explains that he has in mound). After another night on the red
fact walked all way from East Germany! wine, I charge my way up the mountain
He seems somewhat preoccupied & sweat dripping from my brow, legs solid
avantoure
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adrenaline rainbow
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