I wondered why so many blog entries from overseas are badly spelt - and have disovered that the keyboards differ - I have just tapped away happily without looking at the screen for ten minutes and then discovered that it was basic gobbledygook, so have started again, slowly and painfully.
Lourdes has been an extraordinary experience and a good start to this journey. From the meeting at the airport with fellow travellers, where I was given a prayer book with reflections on the meaning of pilgrimage, it has been a time of entering into the Camino. I attended mass with some of the able-bodied tour members (others were at a different location) but apart from that, have walked by myself. The first day, I walked around the town and 'The Domain', which is where the Grotto, the basilicas, the chapels etc are found. These places are milling with people from all over the world. 2008 is a Jubilee Year (those who know me well know how much I love the idea of Jubilee!) - so there are all kinds of special pilgrimages at present (this weekend is for Tamils) and a Jubilee Walk to four of the particularly special locations in Bernadette's life. It's difficult to describe the impact of the Grotto - theoretically, there is complete silence in the Domain but there is a constant muttering from stout women grasping rosary beads, candles,prayerbooks and containers which vary from dainty glass bottles to 10 litre plastic jerrycans. Some have set themselves an agenda where they do everything - drink the water which is easily accessible from a row of taps on the Grotto wall), touch the Grotto walls, bath in the waters, visit the sites, buy the souvenirs - while others sit quietly in one place, perhaps by the river Gave which flows by. You see the best face of Catholicism - the ordinarinessand diversity of people, the simple efforts to meet God in the everyday, in their stories of loss and hope, and in the company of others, and you definitely see the worst side of Catholicism. I spoke at length with the retired priest from Southwark who acts as Chaplain to the group, and he agreed with me that when you see some of the pushing and shoving to get to the statues, repeat prayers and do duties to earn indulgences, while clerics swan around in their dresses accompanied by earnest ladies, you definitely question whether you really want to spend eternity with this lot! (That's a joke; for anyone who isn't Catholic...)
A torchlight procession takes place every night at 9:00pm. There are literally thousands of people following the Blessed Sacrament, lead by groups of the sick in row on row of speciqlly designed wheelchqirs and buggies pushed by volunteers, the females of whom wear a short veil like nuns, followed by the banners of the various groups who have come together (including a group from Waterford, but they weren't Edmund Rice associated), and finally the individual pilgrims. In the darkness, everyone recites the rosary in many languages and sings hymns together, raising their candles on the 'Ave'. I found this bit very very hard - most of the sick are very old, but there was one man on a stretcher who looked just like Mark and it was too hard. Mark would definitely have hated all of this and it's not that I would have wanted him here or would even associate this place with him - I think it was just that there was a visible reminder of a journey to death and all those who share that journey. For the first time too, and I was shocked by this, I felt really really angry about Mark's death. Up to now, I've been feeling a deep sadness and could accept that we all die - now there was just a deep deep anger that such a good man had died so young and that our time together had been so bloody short. But if somebody quotes those flaming stages of grief to me, I will tell them where to get off.
Yesterday morning, went to Mass and the priest used the story of the Prodigal Son for the Gospel (not the Gospel of the day). Mark talked about this Gospel and the character of the older brother - he sometimes identified with the brother who felt he had done his best, had always done the right thing, but had never had the party thrown for him. Afterwards had a long talk with the priest - who, thank goodness, was not an idiot. I don't think I could have stood any platitudes or simple responses. Especially not the 'time heals' stuff. On his advice, I got out of Lourdes and took the bus to St Pe de Bigorres, about 20 minutes drive away. A beautiful ancient town where there is a 12th century Abbey Church which was an important stopping place for pilgrims on the Camino to Santiago de Compostella in the Middle Ages. There is a doorway called The Door of Lions above which is the inscription 'est domus dei, hic dominivia coeli, spes pelegrini' (God's home, Way to Heaven, Pilgrim's Hope). Apart from visiting the Church, I walked for a couple of hours through the foothills - didn't see another soul APART from a group of young people launching kayaks and rafts into the river - the town is a location for water sports!!!!! So I think Mark was happy with that bit!
Decided to walk back to Lourdes from St Pe rather than wait for a bus - a bit hair-raising in places (there are no verges and at times I had to leap into a ditch of water to avoid being hit by French drivers - exactly the kind of thing I would tell my children never to do!). Have discovered a French radio station called 'Paradis' - religious broadcasts, music, the mass etc. listened to a very good interview with an Assumptionist priest who has just written a book on pilgrimage, and some very peaceful choral music.
So, today I am buying a ticket to Irun for tomorrow morning. I am very scared but excited - it's been an easy run so far because I speak French, I've been staying in a hotel where I have a shower and space to myself - from now on, I'm not sure what happens. And my Spanish is woeful, let alone my Basque - or lack of! The weather is warming up and I've noticed that my feet swell enormously after a day's walking. Such is life.
Thinking of you all - these days in Lourdes were especially for Reg, Des, John M, Maureen and the families of those who have died recently. Lynne, I lit a candle for Don too! Am noz going to try to upload photographs.
