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My Camino - Chapter 4
The following morning, we got up early like most pilgrims, had our
breakfast of tea and toast with butter included in the price for pilgrims.
This is when Fran and I started noticing something strange. No one seemed
to know what we were talking about when asked for peanut butter. No one,
that is,
other than Lynn, la Quebecoise. Isn’t
that odd...?
Apparently,
Europeans don’t eat peanut butter!
Annette
joined us at the table and told us that Sonya had left her. I got a
feeling that they might have had a disagreement. As we ate, Annette
insisted on calling ahead to the next town to make a reservation for a
room or at least a bed. She was afraid to arrive in a strange town and
have nowhere to sleep. I thought that was odd; wasn’t the whole point of a
pilgrimage to surrender, to be in the moment and accept whatever God sent
our way.?
While she was on hold on
the phone with the inn in Roncesvalles, she kept asking us if we wanted
her to reserve a bed for each of us; we looked at each other and in unison
said no thank you. She was a bit nervous about going into the unknown and
needed some assurances. I was so grateful that Fran had come along with me
because I had no fear with her there with me. I might not have felt as
brave if I had been alone as I had originally planned. After having eaten
breakfast, we grabbed our backpacks and headed out for the next part of
the journey.
Orisson to Roncesvalles is uphill most of the way, beginning at 600 m
(1968.5 feet) to the steepest part of the journey at
Col Lepoeder at approximately 1430 m
(4719 ft) then descends to Roncesvalles which is at 920 m (3036) ft. This
might be considered the most difficult part of the journey.
As we started our climb up a paved road I was struck by the beauty of the
Pyrenees.
Sun rays shining through the morning mist made it seem mystical. A
flock of sheep walk across my path with one black sheep that stood out by
the side of the road and seemed to give me a nod… kind of like one black
sheep to another. I was surprised to realize that there are still
shepherds traveling with flocks of sheep all over the countryside. I
thought shepherds existed in the stories of old and Biblical times but
there they were. And they could be seen in the distance all over the
countryside.
Another common theme along the way was statues of the Virgin Mother.
I found it interesting
to see that there seems to be more emphasis on the Mother than Jesus in
these parts. I tried to remain open to observation without forming an
opinion. I vowed to form my opinions later and while on this trip I would
watch, listen and surrender, remaining present without preconceived ideas.
I’ve long
suspected that it might have been a mother’s words that had been credited
to Jesus. But alas we live in a Patriarchal world whereby the stories have
been passed down through time by a Patriarchy. But that’s another story
for another time.
Once we started walking, everyone seemed to disperse and went their own
way. Eventually we were just three. Annette needed to go to the bathroom.
That’s how I noticed the shepherds everywhere; just when we thought we had
found the perfect ruin to go potty we noticed shepherds sitting close by
tending their sheep in the not too far distance. Finally, we got to the
point where she didn’t care anymore and nature’s call was stronger than
poise.
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