Portomarin to Palas de Rei, 21 miles
Twenty-one miles today. Whew! This post is going to be a bit of a rambler so hang on!
I noticed early on today that it’s actually my gaze that directs my steps. Looking down at my feet may help me with my footing, but if you don’t look up and onward, you have no idea where you’re going. Be careful where your gaze rests. It determines our direction in life also. Proverbs 4:25-27 says this, “Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil.” And, then, there’s this from Ephesians 5:15-17, “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” Speak, Lord, I’m listening!
I slept 10 hours last night, and it must have done me some good because I got up feeling bold. I took several diversions today. Apparently, after 22.2 km yesterday, 24 km on paper didn’t look like it was going to be enough. Ha! Diversion is important in life also. Diversion bears fruit. Because it is respite or because it’s a mistake from which we learn, makes no difference. If it is a respite, we are refreshed. If it is a mistake, we’ve learned something valuable. Today’s first diversion was a mistake. I took a wrong turn. That happens in life, too. However, in this case, I took another wrong turn, ironically, in my haste to get it right (insert eye rolling emoji). Don’t let a wrong turn lead to another wrong turn. Speak, Lord, I’m listening! The second diversion today worked out nicely. Don’t be afraid to try again!
The third diversion was a visit to Vilar de Donas, a 12th century church. Interestingly, this church represents a lot of Gaelic and Celtic influences that were present in Spain during that time period. The architect included clover and hissop and many Scottish and Irish saints and symbology. The former rector was there. Now, in his 80s, he gave a wonderful tour of the church entirely in Spanish. I probably picked up about 60% of what he said, but he was fascinating all the same, so knowledgeable about the church and its religious history. At one time, the church was used by both Catholic and Arabic monks. They shared the space and worshipped peacefully side by side. Now, there is a lesson for modern times! Inside, there was a fresco painted in the 15th century. One of the images was of St. Peter and St. Paul. My Paul was named after the biblical Paul. The biblical Paul was a man living a transformed life, from a hated tax collector to faithful servant, after an encounter with God. My Paul, like his namesake, also lived a transformed life. Before I left, the rector asked what brought me to the Camino. I told him about Paul passing away, and suddenly, in perfect English, he said, “He is here!”
The local people are all farmers of one sort or another. They all have a small garden with greens and root vegetables, fruit trees, or grape vines. I noticed, though, that a portion of their gardens is allowed to go to seed. I am from a farming family, and that is something we just don’t do. You don’t allow your crop to bolt, or go to seed. So, this seemed very peculiar to me. I think it’s also very American of me. These local farmers don’t buy their seed in bulk from giant seed companies like we so often do. They cultivate their own seed by allowing the very best of their harvest to go to seed so they can use it to plant a future harvest. Think of that….they give up the best of their crop, the largest, most beautiful, most nutritious, tastiest produce so that they can succeed in the future. Interesting.
It’s Palm Sunday, the celebration of the Lord’s triumphal entrance into Jerusalem and the traditional start of Holy Week leading up to Easter Sunday. It’s so fitting that I’m here during Holy Week, a time when we remember the full promise of salvation and resurrection. It brings me so much comfort in the face of so much loss.
Yesterday, I was guarding my painful feet and knees, and growing blisters. That did not serve me well. Today, I am rolling into the pain, and my gait is better. I feel better. I feel stronger. Stop guarding the pain. It doesn’t serve us well.
Compression socks are a miracle. Get you some!
John Brierley’s guidebook to the Camino is a master work. It is so comprehensive. If you’re even thinking a little bit about taking on the Camino, get the book.
Most of the walk today was through forest land. The birds in this area of Spain are different varieties, in particular, the cuckoo. I have to say that it is not very affirming to have a bird singing, “Cuckoo!” over your head while you are attempting an extraordinarily challenging task like the Camino and feeling every step of it. I need birds that sing, “Yay! You got this! Yay! You got this!”
My Spanish is still improving. “Yo soy caminando solo. Necessito el bano, por favor,” is another phrase I’ve got down pat. While many walkers can pop-a-squat as needed with a walking partner to watch out for them, I’m relegated to begging for bathroom privileges in villages and hamlets throughout Spain. Never a dull moment!
Finally, I have to say, y’all, this little, South Carolina Lowcountry, marsh walking, flatlander is suffering mightily from the altitude and steep inclines of the Pyrenees. The struggle is real!
But I persist, Malia