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.
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:
A Pilgrim’s Life
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