Santiago de Compostela

"Now comes the time for contemplation and reflection"--- That is what Mauro -- a dashing, larger than life Italian from Milano whom I encountered along the way -- in the rain, sidestepping deep puddles in the muddy path, on the way from Tricastela, to be exact -- said to me this morning, as we stood on the cathedral steps and watched one of the Easter-Good Friday processions make their laborious and painful way past us -- bare feet over the cold grey stones, carrying statues and crosses weighing hundreds of kilograms on their shoulders, to the rhythmic dirge-like beat of a hundred drummers, dressed in dark purple high pointed hoods.....

It was on the tip of my tongue to reply "But that is what we have done for the last 40 days, Mauro!", but then looked at this man who constantly looks like he has just stepped out a top fashion magazine, and realised the comment would be meaningless. Mauro has been keeping constant -- and I mean constant -- contact with everyone he knows in Milano -- on his mobile phone in the one hand -- and whilst filming the entire way with his video camera in the other hand -- no mean feat when you consider he also had to find his way through cow pats and villages where tractors could come round the corner at any time and cloud bursts and up mountains and down mountains and looking out for mad Spanish cyclists and madder singing barbarians....

Mauro and I were watching the procession but also keeping a lookout for pilgrims we know who still have to arrive. There are quite a few still to arrive and we would like to be there in the square in front of the cathedral, when they do. It is such a special moment!

One of the friends we look forward to welcoming is C-- a fifty-something guy from Bavaria who, I think, I have mentioned before. I met him for the first time in Belorado and he nearly brought the refugio´s roof down that night with his snoring. We had to shake him awake and threaten him with slow strangulation if he dared snore again. And, like a reformed smoker, he then became fanatical about anyone else snoring --- patrolled the dormitories at night and shouted at everyone who dared even give a little grunt in their sleep! It was always such a theatrical performance every time a new person joined the group -- to see whether they were going to snore and what Chris was going to do about it!

Anyway -- C is one of those incredibly inspiring people on the Camino -- one of the many one meets daily-- but very special. C has always been in a wheel chair and was not supposed to ever walk. He is successful as a flower grower and has a large export business which he runs from the confines of a chair. About five years ago he decided that there has to be more to life than sitting in a chair and decided that he was going to walk. He started off with one step after weeks of attempts, pain, frustration, tears and anger. The one step became two after months, and more and more and gradually he forced himself to stay upright and exercise his legs to develop the atrophied muscles and -- well, we are waiting in front of the cathedral of Santiago for C to arrive --- he has walked from Pamplona -- so just over 600km -- and he has done it with a smile and a song and always a helpful hand for anyone along the way. I have known him now for weeks and have had so many hours of conversation with him over that time, and yesterday, from another fellow pilgrim, I heard about this act of immense will power and courage. Chris never mentioned it to me. Amazing

It was in fact over lunch yesterday that I heard the story of C --- I was talking to P --- a huge Swede -- a mountain ranger/shipbuilder and all sorts and who has now started a programme for 14-17 year old boys who are first offenders and instead of them going to a reform institution or worse, he takes them on a tall ship around the world for a year to rehabilitate them..... another long wonderful story.

Anyway, P and I were one of the first ten pilgrims to arrive at the door of the oldest hotel -- and number one hotel in all of Spain, if not Europe -- which is across the square of the cathedral. The custom, since the 14th century -- since when the hotel has been there, is that the first ten pilgrims who are at the door one hour before breakfast or lunch or dinner, may come into the hotel and get a free meal. it is wonderful! Of course we are taken right past the posh crisp white table cloths of the restaurant and the monocled and fur-clad patrons there, and through the kitchen, where we get a tray and the chef comes and gives us whatever is on the menu of the day --- yesterday our lunch consisted of a big bowl of fresh delicious Salade Nicoise, roast chicken and rosti potatoes, fresh fruit salad and creme anglaise for dessert, bread and water and bottles of wine -- as much as we want. We then take our trays and go another flight down and in a gorgeous little stonewalled room -- probably the same where pilgrims have been eating their free meals for the last 7 centuries, we sat round a round (of course) table and enjoyed a delicious free meal!

But now I must go again --- Terence has flown in from England to come fetch me !!!! (I think he and the children were worried I was going to turn around and walk back!) (Would I ever do such a thing???..........)---- but they made him land in Asturia -- which is about 5-6 hours drive away from Santiago -- and I need to go sweet talk the man at the Santiago airport to let him keep his plane there for three days and not just one afternoon.

I shall let you know if my sweet talking skills still work....
and tell you about N, the South African Merino farmer-- and hugging Saint James and why the local cheeses look like young (very young) women´s breasts.........

Stay well and happy -- and buen camino!