The Caminoman

 

Join our brave protagonist on a 900-kilometer pilgrimage from Vezelay to St Jean Pied de Port, traversing the stunning landscapes of central and south-western France. Inspired by real-life events, The Caminoman is a gripping tale of adventure, self-discovery, and transformation.

As you follow the footsteps of our protagonist, you’ll encounter a diverse cast of characters in unforgettable settings, and uncover the true essence of the Camino. With its breathtaking backdrop and poignant storytelling, this riveting tale will resonate with fans of adventure and self-discovery.

Get ready to be inspired by this unforgettable journey. Buy The Caminoman now and discover the transformative power of the Camino for yourself.

Available on Amazon.ca or Amazon.com

An excerpt:

“Crossing an old arched bridge over a small river I took a right
and walked down a narrow country road. I stopped to look back
toward Vézelay from where I came. The sight before me was surreal.
The abbey that was perched high on the hill dominated the entire
countryside. It was covered above its belfry by black low-lying
clouds. The odd pane of whitish yellow lightning could be seen
intermittently followed by the sound of low rolling thunder. There
was something unearthly about the scene as the clouds seemed
to roll down the hill covering the buildings of Vézelay itself. They
disappeared for the moment. Perhaps a localized squall unleashed
a downpour or perhaps it was because of the transparency of the
clouds themselves? It reminded me of a scene out of Mary Shelley’s
Dr Frankenstein…I presume?

The surrounding countryside was very subdued in the early
morning light and made all the more threatening by the ghostly white
color of some of the lower storm clouds, which were predominantly
black at the higher altitude. The ground took on a dull greyish hue.
I felt the first raindrop, then a second and then many. ‘Time to get
out the poncho Jim…and now.’ Hurriedly, I dropped the rucksack
on the ground, found the zipper to the pack’s bottom compartment
and pulled out my poncho and then tried to put it on as the rain
started pelting down. I say tried for when I attempted to get the
thing over my head and my arms through the arm holes the damn
thing ripped. As the wind increased the rips blew out until my
poncho resembled torn tissue paper. Useless! I am going to get
soaked. But it did not happen for as quickly as the rain started, it
stopped, but my poncho was ruined.”


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