Third and final call

Sometimes life is like a theater stage. Before the play starts there are three bell calls.

The third call to the Camino rung very long time after the second bell. And it proved to be the final. 

Fate had its way to reconnect me with my long lost love, the big love of my life.  It was a period that gave us both happiness and pain.The happiness needs no further explanations. The pain came from the fact that a husband, a child that was in need of my attention and the whole Atlantic Ocean standing between us, became serious obstacles to our sublime love. A series of unfortunate events gave the final blow that broke our relationship and my heart. 

What was I to do? The pain, the despair, the devastation are beyond description. All I wanted to do was get out in the streets and start running away. 

Walking the Camino was definitely how I was going to deal with my grief. 
I was aware that it is not something that I should dive into without preparation. 

So I crossed the Atlantic, returned at my home and started asking around if anyone new any pilgrim. And there she was, a friend of a friend who had a friend who had walked the Camino. 
I picked up the phone and made a cold phone call. The pilgrim on the other side was willing to share her knowledge and wisdom about her experience. Finally We met, spent a couple of hours together and it all started looking promising and feasible. 

Like Ariadne who had helped Theseus to go in and out the Labyrinth, the good pilgrim gave me the beginning of the thread that would help me to find my way to Santiago de Compostela.

First and foremost she advised me to join a couple of groups on fb. American Pilgrims on the Camino and Camigas~a Body System for Women on the Camino.

(To be continued)

Second call

The second time I heard El Camino calling me, was in Saintes-Maries-de-la-mere, in Camargue. My husband and I went to the South of France to visit a friend. On  a day trip we stopped at the little town of Saintes Maries de la mere, a small place where the french culture mingles with the Spanish, and the Gypsy. We went to visit the main church, Notre Dame de la Mer. A sanctuary that is one of most important departure points for Pelegrins who start from there their Camino to Santiago de Compostela. 
We visited the roof of Church, a real accomplishment for me, since I do not like climbing on roofs. My husband suggested I take my shoes off, so I could have better controll and balance. He was right. 
When we came down we saw at the church  courtyard a very beautiful piece of artwork, a big stain glass installation inspired by the Camino. On its surface it was written: l’amour est fort comme la mort. Love is as strong as Death! 
And somewhere near by there were photographs and information about the two thousand year old pilgrimage to Santiago. 
After I had conquered my fear of heights I felt drown to the challenge of walking from that very spot to Santiago de Compostela.
I asked my husband to accompany me. He was not that interested.
But I felt inside my heart the call to become a pilgrim. I knew that some day I was going to do what seemed almost impossible. Walk across Spain, walk towards a goal.

(to be continued)

Taking a walk to the end of the world.

Almost two years have past since my last elzevir entry.

Long months of skin change, a painful yet valuable phase.

Part of the new experience was a solo long walk of 30 days in Spain, following the path of El Camino Frances. 

As a young child I had read about El Camino, the over 2000 year old pilgrimage to Finisterra, that at the early years of the Christian era became a pilgrimage to the sacred remains of Apostle Jacob, in Santiago de Compostela, Spain. I was marveled and appalled by the long walkabout that seemed impossible to walk mile after mile, with the bare necessities carried on the pilgrim's back. I was in awe and fear of the strange figure of the bearded man with the tall walking stick, the long coat with the extra protection on the shoulders, and the wide brimmed hat with the big sea shell in the middle.

Little I knew, that was the first time the Camino called me.

(to be continued)