October 20, 2022. At Santiago de Compostela, Spain.

Dear Christine. When is a plan a prison? When one allows it to be.

Tina from Germany did not use those exact words, But the meaning came through when she shared her decision to forgo continuing on to the coast in favor of returning to Germany. While I was fretting the thought of enduring days of miserable weather, she was nonchalant in her decision to redirect her path. I realized that I had allowed my plans to become a “prison“. Furthermore, I was my own jailer oblivious that I held the keys to my release.

I have again checked the weather and there is no improvement.

Therefore, I am escaping my plan in favor of another. This afternoon I canceled my November flight from Santiago to Barcelona and I also canceled my November Santiago hotel booking. These were reservations that came into play upon my return to Santiago from Finisterra and Muxia. Instead, today I booked a series of train tickets from Santiago to Leon, Leon to Burgos, Burgos to Madrid, Madrid to Valencia, and Valencia to Barcelona. The total cost for those 1st class train connections was slightly less than €300.

I have secured lodgings as follows: three nights in Lyons, three nights in Burgos, four nights in Madrid, and three nights in Valencia. The total cost for those 13 nights it’s slightly less than $1000. I weighed this against the cost savings of not walking to the coast, not staying additional days in Santiago, and not paying airfare. My “new plan” is slightly more expensive than the old one, but the relief from the thought of endless trudging through torrential rains is priceless.

I am at peace with this transition from pilgrim to tourist: “God Grant me the Serenity to accept the things that I cannot change (like rain!), The Courage to change those things that I can (like my plans!), and the Wisdom to know the difference (thank you Tina!).”

Becoming a tourist begins tomorrow. I plan to spend the next two days in Santiago visiting a number of its historical and religious sites. Today I returned to the cathedral for the noon pilgrims Mass and was again rewarded with the spectacle of the swinging Botafumeiro.

First I entered the cathedral through the Holy Door, which is only open during a Jubilee year which is when the feast of Saint James falls on a Sunday. That occurred in 2021, but because of Covid it has been extended through 2022. This is the first time that the door has been open in a non-Jubilee year since the Spanish revolution.

Tradition holds that a pilgrim entering the cathedral through the Holy Door receives a plenary indulgence, the forgiveness of all one’s past sins. Maybe tomorrow I will walk through the door backwards to see if my future sins are forgiven as well!

This time I brought my “real Camera“. I hope that the pictures prove it’s worth.

Here is a sequence of pictures of the swinging of the Botafumiero. I opted not to make a video as it would be too difficult for me to show you here. There are plenty of videos on YouTube:

After dark I returned to the square to appreciate that it is at night that this old city really shines.

Love, your Husband.

PS. During Mass there were invocations to pray for the Pilgrims, especially those who endured sickness and disability to reach the cathedral, prayers that they return home safely, and prayers that the journey aided all to embrace peace in their hearts.

To this I say, Amen.

October 16, 2022. At Caldas de Reis, Spain.

Dear Christine. I’m back from dinner. (BTW. The restaurants do not open for dinner until 8 PM and things do not really get rolling until at least 9 PM. Therefore, “back from dinner” means 11 PM) It had been my intention to get some much needed sleep, but then before my eyes closed I decided I wanted to share with you, while the day was fresh in my thoughts.

I had to get up very early this morning and have my bag ready for transport by 7 AM. This was because of a marathon that was to start in the vicinity of my hotel. The roads would be blocked which would prevent the baggage company from reaching the hotel. Kind of like Kansas City, right?

My backpack went out the door promptly at 7. Instead of returning to my room I decided to just head out on the Camino. This presented a really unusual experience since it does not become light until 8:30 AM. For the first hour and a half I walked out of town and into the countryside in darkness.

In Kansas City this would’ve been unthinkable, however here it was surreal. I had to be hyper vigilant in looking for the Camino waymarks. It would not have been good to get lost.

Complicating matters was the constant drizzle that sometime morphed into full-blown rain. I had a significant head start on most other pilgrims except for those who began their day further down the road from different locations. For the first hour and a half I walked alone.

Around 10 AM I happen to see a pilgrim trying to shelter under an awning. I reflexively call to her in English, “How is that working for you?“ To which she replied, “It’s not!“ She emerged from under the awning and we began walking together.

There were the usual introductions: “Where are you from… Where did you begin your Camino…”

Her name was Marianna and she was from the Netherlands. This struck me as curious. Last night Lynn and Tina spoke fondly of a Dutch pilgrim that they had separately met named Marianna. Was it possible that this was her? Yes! What’s more, she knew a bit about me having discussed with Tina our encounter.

After a bit, Marianna stopped for coffee but I continued on the way. We promised to try and get together for dinner.

For me it was a wet 21 km slog through forest paths and byways.

I chose to wear shorts thinking that skin dries faster than cloth. This is true, however it also means the chill goes deeper into the bone. By the time I reached town I was shivering. By the time I was in my room I was ready for a hot shower. A brief rest turned into an hour and a half of deep sleep.

I had text contact information for Lynn, Tina, and Mariana. I also had a recommendation for a wonderful local restaurant. A few text messages and arrangements were made with the four of us to meet for dinner at 8 PM.

At first we were denied a table, no reservation. Tina speaks excellent Spanish and convinced the proprietor to find us a table. Our table was made out of a millstone, which was appropriate since the restaurant was at one time a grain mill powered by the rushing waters from the river below.

The sound of the river was ever present (and pleasant) throughout the course of our meal.

Men do not share and communicate as women typically do. I count myself honored to have been included at table with these three good women. This evening was another gift from the Camino.

Please send me a text message with the final score of the Chiefs game.

Sweet dreams! Love, Me.

October 16, 2022. At Pontevedra, Spain.

Dear Christine. Whatever today lacked in pictures it more than made up for in emotional connections. Before I explore the depths of those matters, here’s the business of the day:

I decided to spend an extra day in Pontevedra to arrange lodgings between here and Santiago, baggage transfers to that point, bag storage to lighten my pack for my hike to the Atlantic coast, and final accommodations before I fly to meet you in Barcelona.

With just a few “hiccups“ all of that was successfully arranged. I then set off in search of breakfast and took a stroll through this wonderful old town.

I visited the main cathedral where it was obvious that preparation’s were being made for a wedding.

For lunch I found a pizza-by-the-slice shop which did honor to that centuries-old tradition, and later one of your favorites, Peppers Padron.

While I sat watching life evolve around me it occurred to me that the Camino is like a tidal river: In the morning the pilgrims leave for their day’s journey, much is tidal waters recede. In the afternoon a flow of new pilgrims arrive, again like the surge of an incoming tide.

When I am walking the Camino, I am part of, and belong to that flow. However, by staying behind an extra day I left the stream. I left Ken and Bambi, acquiring in their place a sense of loss. We hold hope to rejoin for dinner this coming Wednesday evening in Santiago.

Pizza and peppers consumed, I began walking the narrow streets of the old city. I was alone with my thoughts which bounced around like ping pong balls in a lottery tumbler. I thought of Kris, Ken, Bambi, and of course you. At some point I thought of a German woman who joined Ken, Bambi, and me at a pizza restaurant two nights ago in Redondela. She was walking solo and experiencing some difficulty with blisters. Within a minute of those thoughts she emerged from a side street to walk in front of me! I recognized the hair, her orange colored top, and reflexively called, “Tina!“ With a look of shock she turned, and after a brief hesitation replied, “Peter?“

We spoke. She was on her way to her hostel after a challenging day. We arranged to meet at 7 pm for drinks and dinner.

Nearing the appointed hour I waited near her hostel, admiring a hundreds of years old stone cross that marked the route of the Camino.

I was soon joined by a woman who first focused on that cross, but then turned her attention to me, “I know you!“ It was Lynn who gifted me the silver Camino shell that I attached to my earring. As you have said, it appears I am transforming myself into a pirate! When I last saw her, she and Bambi were preparing to dip their tired feet in a creek’s cooling waters.

A few minutes later I was introducing Tina and Lynn to each other, and the three of us set off to begin a memorable, perhaps even magical evening.

The three of us hope to meet again tomorrow for dinner. The next destination is 23 km from here, Caldas de Reis, site of ancient Roman thermal baths that continue to pour forth their 100+ degree waters.

I can sum up the evening in five words: I wish you were here. Love, Me

PS. It appears that whatever has been preventing email notices of these posts from being sent out has at least partially been corrected. It seems that Gmail accounts are once again receiving the links. My fingers are crossed that the resolution is broader than that.

October 6, 2022. At Vila do Conde, Portugal.

Dear Christine. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Yesterday was the longest day, so far, on this Camino. We covered nearly 28 km, almost all of it along beachfront boardwalks. It was quite different than our Caminos in the past. Charming in its own way but no shade, many locals, and many bicycles.

In one of the towns we came up on a fish market which made for an interesting stop.

At another location along the way we saw some unusual stone tubs. These were made by the Romans over 2000 years ago to SALT and preserve codfish.

On the way we reconnected with a German gentleman who stayed at the same hostel with us the night of the fourth. Florian begin to walk with us and accompanied us to our hostel in Vila do Conde. And what a hostile this is! It’s a former palace/mansion that has been thoroughly renovated and is now owned by the municipality. It is entirely dedicated to being a youth hostel (but at 70 years old I guess I’m still young enough at heart to qualify). It is palatial with all dormitory rooms separated by gender. My room sleeps eight but there are only three of us so it is quiet with a lot of room to stretch out. The lounge is incredible, there are actually three of them, and breakfast is included. The cost for a night is just under €20!

I had tried to write this last night on your actual birthday, but I kept falling asleep in the chair. I was really beat and the beer that I had with dinner just added weight to my eyelids. So I got to bed a little after 9 PM which is insanely early for me. However, I woke up at 5 AM and left the room to find a quiet place to send these words to you.

You came into my life over 48 years ago. You were young, oh so young, and so was I. I took you and our relationship for granted. It took years for me to really appreciate the qualities that define you. I think I really began looking at you with “fresh eyes“ on our Camino in 2013. I wrote about it then, marveling at you as a person and us as marriage partners. I began saying that when I met you and entered the marriage lottery, I hit the jackpot. Those words apply doubly today.

I am sorry that I did not come to this epiphany earlier in our history and I am sorry for my missteps, and arrogance. Thank you for sticking with me as I continue my struggle of personal growth.

In the 48 birthdays that I have known you, this is the first one that we have not been together. Yet, sitting here in the dark and hearing in solitude the echo of my voice (I’m dictating most of these words), I feel as close to you is if I were there. Perhaps in your sleep you can feel my mental hug reaching out to you.

Today is another long day, but thankfully not 28 km. I will be thinking of you with every step of the way, as I did yesterday. As you embrace your role as grandmother today please give the grandkids and our children a hug from me and tell them I miss them.

I love you. Peter

PS. Thanks for sending me the picture of the flowers. I’m so relieved that they were delivered on time and look so pretty. Also, enjoy your class reunion this evening. I know you’ll be the shining star in the room.