The Pilgrim’s Life: Part One

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Le Puy

Leaving for Amsterdam today and the start of my next pilgrim adventure: Le Chemin De Puy. This will be a 740Kilomter trek from Le Puy En Velay to Saint Jean de Port, a beautiful town on the French side of the Pyrenees.

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St Jean Pied de Port

Before I get into it I thought that I would introduce readers to the Pilgrim Life. Here is part one:

Qu'est ce qu'un pélerin

Qu'est ce qu'un pélerinQu'est ce qu'un pélerin

 

¡ACTORES DE EUROPA! : Le Pèlerin

A Pilgrim’s Life

¡ACTORES DE EUROPA! : Le Pèlerin

Pilgrims can be anybody. They come from all occupations. Judges; retired Naval Officers; mad French mathematicians; flying Dutchmen; crazy Germans; and others. Pilgrims show up en masse at Pilgrim starting places like Vezelay France or St Jean Pied de Port. Pilgrims are not allowed to swear; they are not allowed to have money, although most of them arrive via first class air or high-speed trains. No, no, no. Pilgrims can only suffer.

Because Pilgrims have no money, they have no alarm clocks with them. No matter, as most Pilgrim hostels are beside churches. And churches have church bells that go off at 6 am every morning. Precise. It is God’s clock, so they must be. The first time I experienced this it was frightening. You see, I had broken the second and third major Pilgrim rule in that I was having fun the night before at a singsong with some wine. You see, Pilgrims are not allowed to have fun (2nd rule) nor are they allowed to drink (3rd rule). No, Pilgrims are only allowed to suffer. So, you can imagine how distraught I was when those bells went off. I jumped out of bed and thought my head was exploding. Alas it was only the bells and not my head. Then again, a severe red wine hangover would fit right in with the Pilgrim’s code of conduct…major pain.

At that moment all the Pilgrims have one thing on their mind…toilet. And you thought those walking sticks were for walking. No, no, no. They are for fending off the other pilgrims while running to the toilet to be the first one in there.

Then the Pilgrim goes and has breakfast. Gruel because the 4 the rule of a Pilgrim is that you cannot enjoy food. You must suffer so our gruel has the texture and look of Metamucil, or…well, you get the disgusting picture. After gruel and cold stale coffee, the Pilgrim has a choice. He can start his daily walking grind or he / she can attend Pilgrim classes. There is: “How to be a Pilgrim 101;” Lessons in Self Flagellation;” The Pilgrim’s Handshake” and of course one of my favourites in “How to meet and greet other Pilgrims – the secret code word.” And for this one time only I am going to tell you what it is:” Buen Compestele.” But if you forget it, you can always say: “Pass the Pasta.” That will work as well. Which reminds me of the Pilgrim cookbook – an absolute must for the proper, discerning Pilgrim – “100 ways to cook pasta” also known as, and I love this part, “Pasta and the Pilgrim’s Life.” I know, I know, a real classic best seller.

So, what does a Pilgrim wear. Anything really. Modern or traditional. The traditional Pilgrims have those earth tone-coloured robes made of homespun wool. Itchy as hell…ooops sorry for swearing…They have these long hemp belts for a tight- or loose-fitting fit. Now you never want to be behind one of these pilgrims as they tend to roll up the hems to their waist as they are going up a steep hill such that…like a true Scott…their bare asses are staring right back at you. Not a pretty site. Oh, and those long hemp belts? Well, one tine I saw one of these Pilgrims cut a small piece of hemp and then roll it up in paper and smoke it. Bad, sacrilegious, blasphemy and a cardinal rule of the Pilgrim.  You must…. you must pass it around.

Off the Pilgrims go en masse: quickly, silently, aggressively with their tick, tick, tick walking sticks. Of course, in the minds of all the Pilgrims is to be the first Pilgrim at the first stop in order to get the best accommodations, and in that best of brotherly love and Pilgrim spirit…. screw you buddy, I am the first to go. So, in that raptured state of mind and spirit we fly away pumped and focused.

Tomorrow? Part Two

Day 40: Orthez to Sauterre de Bearn

Today,s walk is dedicated to my nephew Gerry. He is a cancer survivor and hopefully remains cancer free.

Tough walk today. Some major hills. The Pyrenees are getting closer and closer so our terrain is becoming more and more like foothills. The countryside is absolutely breathtaking. The French are so lucky to be living in such a paradise. I often felt that if God were to live again on earth he would live in Oregon. And while I still believe that to be true I have to admit that France would be a close second:

Went out for dinner last night in Orthez. Finally some life on a Saturday night. It was fun. The two ladies with us are Pilgrim volunteers. They are both from Paris, speak absoultely no English but are real sweathearts. Both lost their husbands. The other guy is Philippe, an engineer from Luxumburg, who has been walking with me for the past few days. Speaks excellent English.

Then there is Arek, from Poland, who is walking in search of something. It is funny but all of the younger pilgrims I have met all seem to be searching for something. Hoping to find what they are looking for, whatever that may be, whereas us old farts have found it and are now trying to get rid of it…weird!

The two women you see there had to quit due to an injury to one of their knees.

And then there is Marcus.  An Austrian who is doing this pilgrimmage with his dog. Now I do not know if his dog is dying or what as I did not want to ask but Marcus is pushing his dog in a carriage all the way to Santiago. If that  isn,t a true bond I don,t know what is.

Another young Dutchman from Belgium showed up but like all of the other young dudes was totally into some parallel universe. I thought all of that hippy stuff disappeared with the onslaught of disco and bell bottoms. I guess I was wrong. But we all thought this Dutchman was a Pilgrim fraud. And why anyone in their right mind would want to pretend to be a pilgrim is beyond my comprehension. But then again I must have a screw loose as well to come to France ( they said) and walk 900 kilometers.

” Hey honey”

” Yes dear”

” I was thinking of going to France this summer and walking 900 kilometers in 34 C  heat. What do you think of that?”

” Fine dear, now take out the trash please.”

Milestone today: day 40 in my pilgrimage and I have walked 852 kilometers. And I saw a sign today that indicated directions to St Jean Pied de Port…wow!

Two more walks.

Great song for driving and a great song for walking. “Jessica.” He wrote this for his young daughter. This was a big hit when I lived in Hawaii in 1973/74. The double lead makes it unique:

https://youtu.be/yRDivUb5EeA