Sabbatical Journal

Dear Trinity Friends,

I thought that I would “prepare” you for my return from sabbatical, by telling you, in stages, how it went. First, thanks. You made it possible for this to happen. You supplied the funds, leadership, and time for me to be away for 3 months. Thank you. Everywhere I went I told people about you-your generosity, your support, your faith. They were always impressed.
I want to thank Rev. Diane, Sue, Erin, Virg, Patti, Laura Boike, Dick Boulter, and especially wardens Cynthia and MoY. Their leadership and willingness made this all possible. And I want to thank Andrew and SeanY. They constantly were encouraging me to take the sabbatical when I had given it up.
I had a great time. I mean, I REALLY HAD A GREAT TIME. My goal was to get my “self” away. To put my head and heart into a different place for 3 months. To be refreshed and revived. Boy, was it ever. Let me tell you about it, and let me tell you what I learned and felt.
I started in early August going to Georgia to spend time with our kids and grandkids. Lauren’s first all day Kindergarten was Aug. 4 and I really wanted to go with her. The whole family did!
The next day, Aug. 5th Kyle (my son) and I went to Ireland. I had three goals in Ireland-to climb Croagh Patrick, climb Skellig Michael, and to spend a lot of time at Glendalough. These were all great spiritual centers for the Celtic church. After arriving on the morning of the 6th, Kyle and I drove to see the Cliffs of Moher, an awesome sight on the Irish coast. Then we drove up to our B&B in Westport and spent the night.
Aug.7 Early the next morning we walked up Croagh Patrick. Croagh Patrick is a 2560 foot high mountain in northwest County Mayo. Legend has it that Patrick climbed this mountain in the 5th century to fast and pray for 40 days. Since then it has been an important pilgrimage site for Irish Christians and thousands climb it each year. It took us almost 3 hours to climb through the clouds to the top, and visit the chapel there. I was worn out (Kyle was still pretty fresh). I told you that my Sabbatical goal was to walk where people of great faith have walked. And this was the first of many journeys on the way. We got back down about mid afternoon-tired, but invigorated, and drove several hours to the Kerry Peninsula in southwest Ireland.
Aug.8 Our next goal was to climb Skellig Michael (a rock island about 8 miles off the Irish coast. I had been to Skellig Michael before and it’s very hard to get to. The 12 licensed small boats only go out when the weather is very calm, and as we watched the forecast, this would be the only day out of the next several that would be doable. When we arrived at the dock, we were told the boats were all full and there was no way we could go. We were devastated. But we waited. Sure enough, 2 spots opened up, and out we went. In the 600s Irish monks built rock huts at the top of this 750 foot island so that they could worship, far from the maddening world. They stayed up there for 600 years. It is the most inspiring place I have ever been. We spent a couple of hours at the top, and then came back down.
Aug.9 We spent a second night in Kerry, tired, but very fulfilled.
On Saturday Aug.9 we drove around the Dingle Peninsula, sightseeing. The weather was wet and visibility not so good. Late that afternoon we drove to Caher, in the middle of County Tipperary. We had only planned to use this as a stopping point after a busy 3 days, but we learned that there was a great castle there (which we explored). The next day, Aug.10 we rose early, went to the small parish church (in Ireland, the Anglican/Episcopal Church is called the Church of Ireland) and then drove on. We stopped to see the Rock of Cashel, Hore Abbey, and arrived late in the day at our next stop-Glendalough in County Wicklow (eastern Ireland).
In the 500s, and eccentric saint, St. Kevin, began a monastery at this beautiful spot, The Land/valley Between 2 Lakes (Glendalough). It became a center for Celtic Christianity for the next several hundred years.
Aug.11Kyle and I spent all day Monday walking the trails around the abbey, exploring, taking tours. It was wonderful. T rained periodically on us, but nothing could dampen the excitement and quiet joy of this holy place.
There is a special feeling in this place. The next day, Tuesday Aug.12 we spent a few hours visiting the great waterfalls in Wicklow, before heading on to Dublin and our B&B there. Kyle left Tuesday afternoon Aug.13 (boy, was it hard to see him go), and I stayed a couple more days. Besides doing laundry in Dublin (Laundromats are few and far between in Europe) I spent most of my time attending services and taking tours of the two great Church of Ireland Cathedrals in Dublin-Christ Church and St. Patrick’s. Morning and Evening Prayer, Eucharist and Compline were offered every day, and I loved it (though the services were a little dry).
I stayed in Dublin til Friday Aug. 15th, and then flew to Glasgow, Scotland.

I arrived in Glasgow Aug.15 and was helped immensely by the tourist Information Center folks who booked me a room near the train station, and gave me a lot of info about travel. (I told them that I would put Ys by their names in my journal).
After checking in to my B&B I walked around Glasgow and was very impressed. I did not expect much, but was surprised to find it is an electric city. There were lots of pedestrian only streets, filled with people, and there was a real feeling of vitality and life.
Early the next morning (Aug.16) I got on the train for the island of Iona. Some of you have been there. I had three goals (again) in Scotland-to spend time on the islands of Iona and Holy Island (Lindisfarne), and to walk St. Cuthbert’s Way. The trip to Iona (a very tiny island off the west coast of middle Scotland) entailed a 3 ½ hour train trip, 1 hour ferry ride to Mull island, 1 hour bus ride across Mull, and then a 10 minute ferry ride to Iona. It took all day just to get there!. But, boy, was it worth it.
The island is 1 mile wide and 3.5 miles long with a resident population of 125. In 563 St. Columba landed on the island with plans to form a monastery there. Iona was to become the base for Christian evangelism and missionary work throughout much of Scotland. In the 1200s an abbey was built . It fell into disrepair hundreds of years later but today it is a center for ecumenical Christianity and is thriving especially as a center for peace and justice. Services are held here daily (and they are always packed), and many modern pilgrims live here for weeks and months at a time.
I spent 3 days (Aug.16-19) at Iona, walking around the island, and attending services at the Abbey and at the Anglican center, The Bishop’s House. I got to spend some time with people from an English parish (from Stoke-on-Trent-Y) who were on retreat there. Again, I was able to do Prayer, worship, and Eucharist at both churches. It was wonderful. It was very hard to leave. Iona felt like heaven, a holy place-only with tourists and a lot of sheep.

I was supposed to start walking St. Cuthbert’s Way on Aug. 21st, so I left Iona a day early(Aug.19) to make sure I made it to Melrose (the jumping off point) in time. I spent the night in Oban (on the Scottish coast) and spent much of the next day traveling to the little town of Melrose in southeastern Scotland (Aug.20).
Melrose is a small village that is home to Melrose Abbey “founded by St Aidan in about A.D. 660, it's first prior was St Boisil who was succeeded by St Cuthbert, the apostle of the Borders, who dwelt there until 664 when he became prior of Lindesfarne (or Holy Island as it has been called since the 1100s).” It is the starting place for St. Cuthbert’s Way a 100 kilometer walk to the abbey on the sea. Virg and Rev. Stacy did this walk 3 summers ago and it sounded wonderful. It’s 62 miles (100k) from Melrose to the Holy Island in England on the eastern coast. I was concerned about the walk. So much of my sabbatical was devoted to walking where people of great faith had walked, and I had learned in Ireland that heights were not my friends. One, I got winded very easily climbing, and two-I was afraid of them (heights). Surely St. Cuthbert’s Way would be different (you know what’s coming, right?).

I stayed at my B&B that first night and explored Melrose (Aug.20). They hand you a “passport” at the Tourist Info center that you are to get stamped several times on the walk, and I took a tour of the Abbey.
The next morning with great trepidation I took off. I should explain something. I had hired a service that took my bag to the next B&B each day, so I only had to carry a daypack that weighed about 10 pounds (this was a great help) and the service also booked my room in the B&B each day and gave me a map where it was in the town. (We did this same thing in Spain). We always had a big “Scottish” breakfast each morning. You could set up the walk to be anywhere from 4-8 days in length. 62 miles, hmm. 6 days seemed about right-10 miles a day-piece of cake (we had been walking 5 miles a day at the Metropark before I left). After breakfast on the 21st I took off. I had to stop twice for directions to find my way out of Melrose (a town of about 1700). I thought, well-this is going to be um, “interesting”. Immediately after leaving Melrose, you encounter long series of steps going up the Eildon Hills. I was tuckered out by 10am (I started at 9). Then the walk started up the hills themselves. By noon I was pretty tired. The Eildon Hills are beautiful, and I was able to have great views of Melrose and it’s abbey. St. Cuthbert’s Way is one of dozens of walks in the United Kingdom. This one was developed in 1995 and is based on an imagined route of how St. Cuthbert probably walked from his monastery in Melrose, to the monastery he was to become abbot of on Lindesfarne. There are several historical sites along the route and it is gorgeous.
That first day, I met the two women, CarolY and OliveY, who had also spent the night in the same B&B as I, and David, a recently ordained Methodist minister who was doing the walk before going to his new call , a 4 point charge in Coventry. We walked together from about 11am on with periodic rain showers. Scotland had a record rainfall this summer, so a fair amount of the trail was muddy. Carol and Olive were wonderful. Everything we saw along the route was “lovely” and they kept pointing out the beautiful sites along the way (even in the rain). They were experienced walkers (they were doing the walk in 4 days instead of my six) so I left them late afternoon-they had a few more miles to go to their B&B. I checked in to my B&B (we figured that we walked 18 miles the first day) a little tired but very happy. I figured that the first day would be the hardest, and if I could survive that one, I could make the rest of the walk easily. The hills were gorgeous and my companions (Olive, Carol, and David) were so positive, friendly, encouraging and knowledgeable, that I could ignore my exhaustion (and leg cramps) the first night. The nearest restaurant to the B&B was about a mile away (for dinner). I met a couple there who also were staying at my B&B (Robin Yand JaneY a married couple from Australia). We had dinner together that first night and learned we were on the same 6 day schedule and would be staying in the same towns (not necessarily the same B&Bs).
Aug.21-26 The next 5 days were wonderful. Everyday had more hills, but there were always great things to see. We ran across feral sheep and lots of cows, the Cheviot Hills, and miles of heather and gorse, small beautiful (and ancient) villages-St. Boswells, Harestanes, Morebattle, Kirk Yetholm, Wooler, Fenwick. On Aug. 26 we looked out at Holy Island across the Causeway. You have to wait for the tide to go out to walk to the island. We walked across the 2 mile causeway to the island where there is so much history. “The monastery of Lindisfarne was founded by Irish born Saint Aidan, who had been sent from Iona off the west coast of Scotland to Northumbria at the request of King Oswald around AD 635. It became the base for Christian evangelising in the North of England and also sent a successful mission to Mercia. Monks from the community of Iona settled on the island. Northumberland's patron saint, Saint Cuthbert, was a monk and later Abbot of the monastery, …”
Aug.26-27 I stayed on Holy Island 2 nights and found it very similar to Iona. Holy Island has about 150 people resident year round. There was a very active worshipping community there at St. Mary the Virgin Anglican Church and I worshipped with them often. Again, I spent a much of my time walking around the island. Robin and Jane were going on so I said good-bye to them with great reluctance. We had a ball walking together and had become good friends.
Aug.28-29 I had 2 days at this point that I had not planned for yet, Aug. 28 and 29. Originally I thought I would go to Edinburgh. But several people talked me into going to the English city of Durham, and I was very thankful that they did. Durham was grand. It was here that Cuthbert’s body was finally buried (Viking raiders had tried to steal it in the 800s), and the cathedral here was considered to be the best example of Romanesque architecture in the world (“In a nationwide BBC poll held in 2001 it was voted the nation's best-loved building.”). Again, I spent my time walking around the town (of about 50,000) of Durham and worshipping at the Cathedral. One of the highpoints of my journey was the Eucharist held at St. Cuthbert’s tomb. Gorgeous town, again, full of life and energy.
On Saturday Aug. 30 I again reluctantly left a place I thought was grand, for the train ride to Canterbury in southeastern England. I arrived in Canterbury (I had to change trains in London which was, um, “interesting”). Canterbury is an exciting city. It’s history goes back over 2000 years. Much of the ancient wall still surrounds the old city. It is here that the spiritual head of the Anglican Communion, Archbishop Rowan Williams, resides. In 597AD Augustine from Rome came and established a monastery and the English church has had it’s headquarters here ever since. It became most famous for the death in the 1100s of the archbishop of the time, Thomas of Becket and for Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. The town has about 36,000 people and again, is electric in it’s energy and vitality. The streets (most in the old city are pedestrian only) are full much of the time. I arrived (about 3pm) just in time Saturday for Evensong in the Cathedral. Over the next 2 days I attended several services there. I also took a walking tour of the town. The next day, Sunday Aug.31 I went to the early service at the Cathedral and a service at one of the small parish churches a few blocks away at 11am. It was their priest’s first service as rector and was wonderful.
Sadly (as usual) I left the UK on Monday, Sept. 1. I figured out (I had a lot of time while riding on trains) that in the 26 days that I had been abroad I had taken 2 planes, 6 trains, 7 buses, 4 ferries, stayed in 16 different B&Bs, and attended 23 church services. It had been a whirlwind month, but I had loved it. I had accomplished everything I had set out to do and then some. I had walked. A lot. And yet I felt energized and more alive than I had in years. I had met some amazing folks (Brother Austin in Canterbury, Fr. Brian on Iona, Carol, Olive, David, Robin and Jane). I was rescued constantly by incredibly kind people. I had seen some of the greatest places in Celtic and English Christendom. I felt as though I had been on a 4 week Christian thrill ride. And I was so sad that it was over. I had climbed the heights-literally-often. And I experienced one high after another. The days spent with Kyle, my 37 year old son, were very special, as we do not get to spend that kind of time together any more.
And I was tired. And lonely. I missed Deborah, and couldn’t wait to see her in Spain. And I wanted to take a break, however short, from being on the go every day. I made every bus, train, ferry and plane so far (some by just a few seconds) and I wanted to go back to the pace of St. Cuthbert’s Way-a good walking rhythm. I felt far away from Belleville and life there.

On the morning of Sept. 1, I took off on the train for Gatwick Airport southwest of London. I caught my flight on EasyJet for Madrid arriving that night about 9pm. Deb was supposed to arrive about 7:30am the next morning Sept. 2 from Detroit, and I had planned to spend the night sleeping at the airport. But one of the things I learned was that you use your spare time. So I called our hotel in Madrid, and they agreed to keep my bags (suitcase, backpack, and camera case) there til we arrived the next day. So, I took a cab to the hotel (Hostal Triana) dumped my bags, and learned how to take the (subway) Metro back to the airport. It only cost 2 € (about $3) to go to the airport by Metro. So I returned there about midnight, and tried to doze.
At 8am Deb came through the gates, and I was so happy to see her. We got her luggage, had some breakfast, and took off via the Metro for our hotel. We checked in (officially) to our room and slept for the next 5 hours. We stayed in Madrid for the next four days, twice taking day trips to famous nearby towns (Toledo-our favorite, and Segovia). We visited the Prado Art Museum in Madrid, had clothes washed, and walked endlessly throughout Madrid. It’s a great city and we had a ball, but we were anxious to get to our next place-the Camino.
On Saturday Sept. 6th we took the train to Leon, our jumping off point for the Camino. We were a day early, so we had to book a night in a nearby (near train station) hotel. We explored the town, got our “passports” for the walk, and visited two of the churches.
The next day, Sunday, Sept. 7 we skipped church (hmmm) but moved to our new hotel (on the other side of the city). We saw a street market and walked there for several hours. Then we went back to our hotel and waited for our walking companion, Marilyn, whom we had corresponded through the internet. She knocked on our door about 3:30pm. Marilyn is a manager of small hospitals in Calgary, Canada-and she became our great good friendY. We walked around town together, getting her “passport”, finding her a walking stick, showing her the cathedral. That night we had dinner at our 2nd hotel. The company we had hired booked our rooms each night in different cities on the walk, and moved our bags for us. Included, besides the room, was dinner every night-almost always in the hotel where we were staying. Dinner was always a 3 course meal-an opening dish (salad/appetizer; then a main course, then dessert). Most of the hotels also gave us half a bottle of wine and bottled water, too, with the meal. Bread (never butter, unless we asked for it) was occasionally also offered. That night in Leon was our first of these meals.
Let me describe the Camino to Santiago de Compostela from the Internet.
El Camino de Santiago, or in English "The Way of Saint James", is the pilgrimage route to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where legend has it that the remains or relics of Jesus' apostle, Saint James the Elder or the Greater, lie. The Camino has existed as a Christian pilgrimage route for well over 1,000 years and there is evidence that there was a pre-Christian route as well. Throughout the Medieval period it was one of the most important Christian pilgrimages undertaken. Indeed, it was one of only three pilgrimages which could result in complete expiation of all sins - the others being to Rome and to Jerusalem. And, as Jerusalem was for much of the time after the 7th century under Muslim control, Jerusalem was generally not available as a destination.
After Jesus' crucifixion, various of the apostles dispersed around the Mediterranean region to preach and James went to the Iberian Peninsula, modern-day Spain and Portugal. For certain it is known that in the year 44, he returned to Judea and was beheaded by Herod Agrippa I, the grandson of Herod the Great. At this juncture, tradition and legend begin to mingle with history. There are various versions of the translation of James' body to Iberia (Spain… The 12th-century Historia Compostellana relates the story that James' body was claimed by his followers in Judea and that they carried his body by sea to Iberia, landing at Padrón, Galicia, from which point they carried the body inland for burial at modern day Santiago de Compostela.
And there the body lay, forgotten until the 9th century. Early in that century, Pelagius, a hermit living in that part of Galicia, had a vision in which he saw a star or a field of stars that led him to what proved to be an ancient tomb containing three bodies. He immediately reported this to the local bishop, Theodomir, who declared the remains to be those of Santiago and two of his followers and who in turn reported the find to the King of Asturias, Alphonso II, who forthwith declared Santiago to be the patron saint of Spain, or of what would eventually be Spain. … A small village named Campus de Ia Stella (Field of Stars) and a monastery were established on the site. News of the discovery spread like wildfire and a trickle of pilgrims began to arrive. Miracles came to be attributed to the site, and the miracles encouraged pilgrimage and pilgrimage elicited more miracles. This was all greatly encouraged by the powerful Archbishop Gelmirez of Galicia and the cathedral authorities, who were anxious to promote Santiago as a pilgrimage destination, as well as by the monks of the Abbey of Cluny in France who were anxious to support the Spanish Church in its struggle against the Moors on the Peninsula. And thus began the millennium-long relationship between the holy and the commercial.…
Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela reached its peak during the Middle Ages and it is safe to say that it constituted a major cultural aspect of that period of history in Europe. By the 12th century, the Camino had become a rather organized affair and what is widely regarded as the world's first travel guide, the Codex Calixtinus from around 1140, provided the would-be pilgrim with the rudiments of what he or she would need to know while en route. … In addition, a massive infrastructure developed to support pilgrimage and, not coincidentally, to gain commercially from it. Bridges were constructed across rivers to draw pilgrims to certain cities and they prospered. Pilgrim hospices were chartered by religious orders, kings and queens and they gained favor in heaven. All manner of commercial businesses were established to both take advantage of and to support pilgrims. Cultures mixed, languages merged and history was affected. (from http://www.americanpilgrims.com/camino/history.html website).

Today (2008) about 100,000-150,000 pilgrims walk, bicycle or horseback ride all or part of the routes annually (there are several pilgrimage routes to Santiago but the most popular is Camino Frances, across northern Spain from Saint Jean Pied de Port in southwestern France about 780 kilometers from Santiago). We would only be walking about 200 miles (300k) from Leon. To receive a credencial de Compostela (certificate that you walked) you have to complete the last 100 kilometers on foot.
We were nervous about the walk, but excited.
On Monday Sept. 8 we had decided to take a bus to our first town, Hospital de Orbiga, and bypass what we had read was a long hot (and dangerous) walk on busy roads from Leon. We got off the bus about 10am, guessed where the Camino was and immediately saw some walkers. Most of the people on the Camino carried their packs and stayed in “albergues” (these are very cheap hostels with dorm like sleeping arrangements). The first day was pretty level ground, warm and sunny, lots of corn (corn in Europe means grain-they called our corn “maize”). We only had 11 miles to go and arrived about 3:30pm in Astorga. We were tired, but exhilarated. We walked around town, tried to see the cathedral (locked) had a drink at a café, shopped a little. That evening we ate dinner late (normal dinner time for the Spanish is 10pm to midnight, but most hotels would offer meals at 8:30 or 9pm-for peregrinos-pilgrims).
We felt pretty good about our first day. We started meeting and talking to folks right away. The Camino is a wonderful bond. We met very very few Americans but people from every other country (114 different nationalities walked the Camino this year).
Sept.9 The second day we walked to Rabanal. This was only about 13 miles, but much of it was uphill (we were going into the mountains). We met an interesting group of 7 from Brazil-3 sistersY, two of their husbands, and two of their students (one of them was a teacher). One of the sisters had cancer in 2004 and had been undergoing chemo ever since. She was determined to walk the Camino and her family came with her. About 2pm that afternoon, as we were walking over tree roots, Deb fell. She hit face first and was stunned. We were afraid she had broken her nose (it was skinned and bleeding) and Marilyn thought she might have a concussion. The Brazilian women who were nearby came up and took charge-washing Deborah off, giving her water, caring for her. After a few minutes, Deb said, “let’s go” and we resumed. We were also encountering serious hordes of flies that afternoon, that made it hard to enjoy some wonderful sites along the way.
We arrived in Rabanal, only to find that our hotel was overbooked, and we had been transferred to a town 20 miles away. A taxi took us there. The hotel was the same one we were scheduled to stay at the next night (in Ponferrada), and it was very nice. We were disappointed not to be in Rabanal, though. It was a very picturesque tiny town.
Ponferrada was wonderful. The town was in the middle of it’s annual festival with markets, music, and acts going on all over town. We stayed and watched a bagpipe/tambourine/drum band of people in native (Bierza) costumes. Our hotel was also right next door to a massive Knights Templar Castle/fort. We really liked Ponferrada.
The next day, Sept.10 the taxi showed up at 8am to take us back to Rabanal to restart our walk. We decided because of the mountain hiking that we would cut the walk a little shorter this day. We got out of the taxi at El Cruz de Ferro (this is from a walker’s blog- the crossing of Mount Irago, at 1505 meters (VBF, multiply by 3 1/4 to derive feet). There is a tradition among camino walkers to carry a stone from one´s home, to place at the base of the famous cross on this mountain. The cross is called Cruz de Ferro, literally "cross of iron." It is a small cross at the top of a 30-meter tall wooden pole, but to pilgrims on the camino, the cruz de ferro is a major milestone, the highest point on a long, long journey. The stone from home is supposed to collect one´s sorrows along the way, and, when left at the Cruz de Ferro, to remove those sorrows from the pilgrim. People bring small pebbles, pieces of shell, photos, anything that can tell their story to the skies.”). I left stones from Iona at the Cross. We began walking from there. Again we ran into the flies, even in the mountains, and they were especially bad around Deborah. We walked about 12 miles this day, stopping about 3pm at Molinaseca for a drink. We remembered from our taxi ride that much of the walk from Molinaseca to Ponferrada would be walking through suburbs so we decided to take a bus into Ponferrada. Between the flies and the mountain this day, we were pretty beat when we arrived back at our hotel in Ponferrada. We saw the Brazilian family in the plaza and bought them a drink.
Day four of the Camino Sept. 11 we were wary. We had the fall on day two, bumped from our hotel, and flies on day 3.
We walked this day to Villafranca del Bierza. It was a great day. Only about 13 or 14 miles. It started raining as we left the hotel (not hard) and kept up on and off til about noon. We walked through miles of vineyards-nice FLAT terrain. At one point as we walked by a garage and a guy waved us in, so we could try his home made wine. We went in and he gave us wine and olives (wine wasn’t any good, but who cares). Marilyn and Deb were eating wild blackberries all along the trail. Deb thought that this was our best day yet (we found that each day we were saying that!), and we thought Villafranca was near. It wasn’t. We had some steep hills and a couple more miles after we first spotted it to walk. Again our hotel said that the booking company messed up, and we shared a bathroom with Marilyn at the hotel. We really liked Villafranca. Beautiful town. Saw the blond haired Germanic fast walker again today that we had seen since the beginning (he ate in café). We stopped in the Tourist Info center and walked around the beautiful garden/park.
5th day, Friday Sept.12 is to be O Cebreido-the day we have been dreading. It’s supposed to be a steep (and long) climb. We decided to take a bus part of the way. From Villafranca to O Cebreido it was about 19-20 miles so we rode a few miles before starting up..
It was raining when we got off the bus at a little truck stop on the highway. We walked over to the river where the Camino was and began walking. Marilyn had gotten off the bus a couple of miles before us-she was ready to walk farther. We walked alongside the river, and it was lovely (see, Carol and Olive were still with me!). There were several little villages (and a wonderful bakery), old Roman bridges. Slowly we started climbing some steep hills. At our first real rest stop who should walk in but Marilyn! All day we kept encountering long steep hills and the views became increasingly beautiful as we got higher and higher. Finally late in the afternoon we started seeing the signs that we were almost there. The province of Leon that we were in was ending. The next province, Galicia, had stone markers every .5 kilometer. Galicia was the province with Santiago so O Cebreido is an important point psychologically. We went over one hill and there was O Cebreido. It’s a beautiful little village with lots of thatch covered barns. Very quaint. Anyway, as we walked in to the village, very tired after so much uphill, Marilyn walked out to meet us (she walked faster than us and usually arrived ahead of us) to say we were being moved to another hotel in another village. We went round and round for the next 3 hours trying to straighten things out, and finally stayed in the other town. Had dinner that night. Very tired.
Next day Sept.13 the taxi showed up again to take us back to the place on the Camino at O Cebreido where we had ended the day before. The hotel we were supposed to stay in was very nice to us, giving us a delightful breakfast (you NEVER get breakfasts in Spain-just coffee, sometimes orange juice, and either a croissant or some toasted bread). They even gave us pins of O Cebreido. We started walking, assuming that we would be going downhill all day. As a matter of fact we did a lot of up. We saw several buses pulled over for lunch today for tour groups. The walk, as usual, was gorgeous, with much of it “above the clouds”. We arrived at Triacastela (3 castles) about 2:30pm (short day-only 13 miles). Triacastela was our smallest town so far. Several little bars and a church (sign outside said Pilgrim’s Mass at 7pm). Marilyn and Deb had a drink with the Brazilians while I went to church for the mass (in Spanish) and got my “sello” (stamp) in my passport. We had dinner at 8pm (so early!) and went to bed early. The hotelier asked us what time we wanted breakfast. We said 7am and she told us that 7am was still night! So we settled on 7:30am, but she was not happy.
Rose early the next morning and had our café at 7:30am. Hotelier glared at us through breakfast (7:30am-IT’S STILL NIGHT!).
Sunday, Sept. 14 we were on the road headed for Sarria. We had scheduled an extra day’s rest in Sarria and we were very excited about having a break. We had only been out a week but we were tired. We saw in our guide book that there was an alternate route to Sarria. The traditional route was supposed to be steep, whereas the alternate route was “scenic” and went by a beautiful monastery. So we decided on the alternate route (this added 3 miles to our walk, making it about 15 miles). The route was beautiful. The monastery (Samos) was very impressive, and we spent almost the whole day walking alongside the Oribio River. Walked alongside a lot of fields. Saw 3 men with rifles (we hoped they were hunters). Late in the day we were getting pretty hot and tired. Usually most days we saw lots of other walkers and many cafes. However from 11am (Samos) to 3pm we saw only one other walker and no cafes. As pretty as the walk was we started using “alternate route” as an inside joke-meaning, something we should never do again. Finally found a café where the two trails (our alternate route and the traditional route-which everyone else took) converged. Another hour and a half (about 4pm) we finally got into Sarria. Asked where our hotel was and we were told that it was on the outskirts of the city –all the way across town. Made for a very long, tiring day. The hotel was great, and we spent a long time in the tub/shower upon arrival.
We spent 2 days in Sarria. Not a very pretty town, but the longer we were there, the more interesting it became. The hotel was one of the nicest we stayed in on the trip. That afternoon/evening we decided to walk around town. We found an old Leper Colony church, and then happened across another one that was just finishing mass. We saw 3 women we had seen earlier on the trail (from Canada). We also saw 5 Americans that we had met on the bus going from Villafranca to O Cebreido. We also found a street with a host of antique shops on it. We finished up before dinner with a drink at a café in the old part of town and headed back to the hotel.
Dinner that night was excellent, and we met the same women from Canada (two sisters and their cousin) at church who had dinner there. We walked around Sarria and went to see a couple of churches. One of them had been the Leper Hospital” in the middle ages. That night we stayed up late knowing we could sleep in.
The next day, Monday, Sept. 15, we got clothes washed, and walked around the city. There was a “Camino” shop that we spent a fair amount of time at, walked around and saw several of the historic buildings. That afternoon we hooked up with Marilyn again and walked around the old city. We stopped in one of the antique stores and spent an hour looking around a fascinating place full of “treasures”. Had another great dinner that night. Learned that “the very fit” German walker was staying at our hotel.
Tuesday Sept. 16
Today we head for Portomarin, a city on a wide place in the river. Had a bad night (Crohn’s) the night before and was worried I would not be able to walk today, but turned out to be not a problem (tbtg). Sarria is the place people have to walk from to get a Compostela (certificate) so a lot more walkers on the Camino. It’s a little over 100k from Santiago. Very foggy when we began, and the description of Galicia province as “Oregon-like” has come true. Lots of groves/forests of giant gnarled oaks. Very beautiful. Every hour or two we would quote our guidebook, “It’s magical!”. We ran in to the Canadian women again, a couple wearing the cool hats (we thought they were English), and the Norwegian sisters we met and had dinner with in Leon. We stopped for a break about 10 and lunch (“socktown”-the place each day that Marilyn would change to fresh dry socks) about 12:30pm. We were making good time but today was supposed to be 25k. A fairly long walk. We also met two women from South Africa (Sara and Fran) a mother/daughter couple. We walked much of the day with them. This was really a beautiful walk, and we felt very good coming off a day’s extra rest. About 1:30pm we saw Portomarin, but it took another 2 hours to reach it. Cool day that started warming up (and sun came out) about 2pm. When we arrived at out hotel we learned that we had been bumped (again) and moved about four blocks away, Didn’t like our room (no shower curtain-water went everywhere) so they moved us to a different room. The town was not very pretty, and church was very square. We heard that the old town had been down by the river, and that when the river had been widened/flooded/dammed? That the town had been moved up the hill and rebuilt. Basically a town with one long street. We walked all over, and had a drink with the Canadian women. Delightful evening, and dinner with many of the people we had seen on the walk.
Wednesday Sept. 17
I wrote in my diary, “ANOTHER GREAT DAY!” And it was. It’s dark now til after 8am, but the people start walking from the Albergues beginning at 5:30am! We were on the way by 8:15am. The first 3 hours were lots of hills, fog, and clouds. Eerie walking in thick fog. We arrived at yet another town called “Hospital” and that was today’s socktown. Skies were threatening, but no rain. Each day around noon we see farmers moving their cows/sheep. Lots of German Shepherds who do much of the work. We arrived in Palas de Rei (Palace of the King) about 3pm. We walked through several small villages today, very interesting. Took us 7 hours, “fit German guy” made it in 4. hmmm. He’s pretty fit. I told him that he made it in half our time and he said, “yes, but you enjoy walking slowly!”. Dinner this night was so much fun. Invited “fit German guy” again to eat with us, and the Norwegian sisters. So there were 6 of us (at our table) and we had 4 conversations going on at any one time. Turns out “fit German guy” (who had seemed aloof the first few days) was actually a shy/humble Dutch man named Leo-he was embarrassed by his English-that’s why he was shy!. He was delightful. He walks a lot-all the time-and he’s our age (57). Saw lots of other walkers in the dining room and it was a great meal, great evening-what the Camino is supposed to be as we swapped stories and experiences. Lisa, one of the Norwegian sisters (speaks very good English) her sister B____, tried to follow along. Great night. Great dinner. Felt like a meal of pilgrims.
Thursday Sept. 18 We were up and out early. This was supposed to be the first of two very long days-and it was. The company (WorldWalks) was trying to get us into Santiago by noon on Saturday so Thursday and Friday would be very long days so that Saturday would only be 6 miles. Today was supposed to be close to 20 miles-to Arzua. More clouds and very foggy as we left (about 8am). And again, lots of hills. Beautiful walking in the fog. One thing we noticed is that each day we would put on several layers of clothes to start with, and almost immediately begin walking up a steep hill at the beginning of the day. At the top of the hill all the walkers would stop and begin taking off layers. Each day this happened, became a running joke.
Around noon we hit Melide, a very large town, famous for it’s “pulpo” (octopus). Marilyn, Deb and I had been talking about this for a few days-would we eat it. As we walked into town, we passed a café/restaurant. The owner was standing at the front window and as we walked up, he reached in to a large pot and pulled out a very large red pulpo. That did it-we couldn’t have eaten one at gunpoint. We did stop in there and have a bite of lunch (and changed socks). It took us a while to get through Melide and it sprinkled on us. As we left town, we saw a crowd of people. It was a German tour bus pulled over so the tourists could have lunch. They had tables set up and the crowd was very large. They “forced” us to join them and made us drink wine, eat their cheese and melons. They kept hijacking every peregrino that walked by. It was grand. The South African mother/daughter were there as were several other peregrinos that we “knew”. A group of four Spanish guys engaged in a drinking contest. We decided to not complain about German tour buses any more. The bus people were warm, kind, and gracious. It was great fun-but we had miles to go, so we did not tarry long. More forests of huge trees today, beautiful. Late in the afternoon we began walking through forests of Eucalyptus trees. About 3:30pm we reached Ribadiso, the normal stopping place for most peregrinos-it was a beautiful spot on a river with several albergues. But we couldn’t stop (this hurt), we had to keep going to Arzua. We were starting to get pretty tired, but we assumed we were almost there. Turned out that Arzua was several steep climbs (and 4 k-2 ½ miles) ahead. We reached our hotel about 4:30pm-almost 20 miles, and much of it uphill. We were very tired. Checked in to our hotel, rested, then I went our looking for a farmacia to find Deb tylenol pm. That was pretty funny as they had never heard of acetaminophen-much less “aspirin that made you sleepy” (they looked aghast at that). Marilyn and I found Leo, the very fit Dutch guy, in Plaza Mayor (every town in Spain has a Plaza Mayor-the main plaza) and had coffee with him. A very very nice guy. At 8pm that night we had dinner, this time the 3 of us and Leo, and he told us a lot of stories.

Friday Sept. 19 We rose early (about 6am) but didn’t leave til 8:40am. Late breakfast. This would be our last full day of walking, and it would be our longest day (20 miles-30k). We focused on maintaining a good pace and stopped at the town of Calle at 10:15am and socktown, Santa Irene, at 12:45pm. By my reckoning we were halfway. Lots of other walkers on the trail, people we had never seen before. Marilyn went on ahead and Deb and I slowed down as the afternoon wore on. We would talk briefly to folks along the way. We heard which albergues had bedbugs (the one up ahead-so many of the walkers were looking at different places to sleep that night). As the afternoon wore on we walked by the Santiago airport. The sun came out, and it felt like it was in the 80s. We stopped seeing other walkers, and didn’t see another café for 3 hours. I was worried that we had missed a turn. We were getting pretty fried by about 4pm. Took a short break in the shade, and talked over whether we were lost or not. Kept seeing the yellow arrows, so on we went. A few minutes later we hit a café, and were we glad. Had cokes and ice cream and rested in the shade. The town we were supposed to stay in was Lavacolla, a town famous as the place where peregrinos traditionally would wash before arriving in Santiago. We finally got to our hotel about 5:30pm, and we (Deb and I-hadn’t seen Marilyn since 1pm) were done in. We had blisters on our blisters. We ran in to the Americans we had seen a week earlier in Sarria and they had food poisoning from the day before. About 7pm I took a walk around “town” while Deb washed some clothes. Met Marilyn and we met a Chinese couple that we had seen before. It was about 8pm and they were just arriving in town-and looking for a room (we saw the South Africans earlier and they were looking, too-no one wanted to stay in the bedbug albergue and at this point there were few options). We talked some to the Chinese couple (husband and wife, she was studying at a Spanish university).
Dinner that night was 9pm and we saw a lot of our fellow walkers. As usual had Menu del Dia (menu of the day-3 course meal with wine , water and bread). That night we ate with “the English couple with the cool hats”. Turned out that they were Australians (but they still had cool hats). They had 6 kids, he was a doctor. Delightful couple, very devout Catholics. He had been fighting tendonitis in his leg so we spent much of the meal talking about how to treat our many “injuries”. Great dinner, hard to let it end-but Saturday would be out last day.
Saturday Sept. 20
Up at 6am, hard to sleep, everyone wanted to get on the Camino. Santiago beckoned. We had a quick breakfast and took off. Soon we reached Monte de Gozo (Mount of Joy). It was called this in the middle ages because it was from this point that peregrinos could first see the cathedral at Santiago. Legend had it that the first in a pilgrim group to see the cathedral could legally change their name to “rex” (or king-as in king of the Camino). We took several pictures at Gozo and talked to the Norwegian sisters some. Most of the peregrinos had stayed farther away than Lavacolla so we were well ahead of the crowd this morning. Another gorgeous day with a great sunrise.
We reached Santiago about 10am but the cathedral and “old city” were still a mile away. About
10:30am finally reached the Cathedral. And we just stopped and stared. There’s an enormous square in front of the Cathedral with a shell (from which the Camino is measured-shells one one of the dominant symbols for St. James and the whole Camino is marked either with shells or yellow arrows). We took lots of pictures and tried to decide what to do next. We didn’t know where anything was. We wanted to put our hands on the column in the church (peregrinos had been doing that for so long that there were actually indentations in the column), we wanted to “hug St. James (his statue is up behind the altar and you are supposed to embrace it and give thanks for a safe walk), we wanted to get our Compostela (at the office of the Peregrino). And we wanted to attend the Pilgrim’s Mass-held everyday at noon for all the pilgrims arriving in town.
First we decided to go to the office of the peregrino. Finally found it, about 2 blocks from the Cathedral, stood in an evergrowing line, while 4 people asked peregrinos questions, examined their “passports” and then wrote out our names in Latin on our “Compostela”.
Then we went back to the Cathedral and who should we see be “the English/Australian couple). They had attended a 10am mass and were on their way already, talked to them, and wished them well. Then we ran into the South African women. Same thing We went into the cathedral but the column with the hand prints was roped off, and the line to hug the saint was “miles” long. So we walked around the cathedral and got good seats for the Pilgrim’s mass. The service was in Spanish but it was very moving when the priest read the names of all the countries from which people had walked that day and checked in to the office of Peregrinos.
We had hoped that they would use the Botafumeira, the huge censor that had been used since the middle ages to “cense” the cathedral (the smell from the peregrinos was legendary after months on the road)-but they didn’t do it that day.
About 1pm we decided to find our hotel, checked in, and took a nap. Short day, but very intense. So many feelings at the end of the 200 mile walk, more emotional exhaustion than physical.
Got up and walked around that afternoon. Shopped, went back to the cathedral.
We were staying 2 nights in Santiago so we were more relaxed-no need to get ready for the next day. Throughout the walk we had our “shell” on the back of our packs and that was a sign that you were a peregrino. That afternoon we actually changed clothes and cleaned up. As we walked around the city we would say to the walkers we saw, “buen camino” the traditional peregrino/camino greeting. But instead of saying it back to us, they would say “gracias” (thanks) which told us we no longer looked like peregrinos. A little at a time we were realizing that our Camino had ended.
That evening we went to dinner, told stories, and occasionally would run in to someone we had walked with. Whenever possible we always tried to eat/drink at an outdoors café so we could watch the people and see the cities.
Sept. 21 Sunday morning
The girls slept in, and washed clothes while I went to mass at the cathedral. Then I stopped in at an internet café and sent more e-mails. They had been preparing the Botafumeira at the 10am mass, so I went back to get the girls and have them see it. We arrived in time for the Noon pilgrim’s mass (church was packed with over 1000 people) but never saw the Botafumeira being swung.
That afternoon we walked all over town, ran in to people, took pictures and reminisced. Sunday night was our last dinner together. We ate at an outdoor café and were joined by a guy from Oklahoma City.
Turned in early.
Monday Sept. 22
Got up, had breakfast, and said a very sad good bye to our great good friend MarilynY who was heading off to London. Hard to see her leave. Later that morning we walked to the bus station and caught the bus to Finisterre. Finisterre (Spanish for The end of the earth) is the western most city in Europe and traditionally some of the Camino walkers walked all the way there (another 60 miles). Caught the bus about 10:30 and arrived in Finisterre about 2pm. Checked in to our hotel, which was right on the ocean, and then went sightseeing. It is a tiny town. The weather was warm and sunny, so we decided to walk up to the lighthouse at the tip of the peninsula. It was about 4k ( 2 ½ miles) and there were some wonderful statues along the walk. When we arrived there was a stone marker (like we had see every .5 kilometer since O Cebreiro) that said, “0.00”. We had come to the end of the camino.
That evening we met two women from Cleveland who asked them to join them for dinner. We had great paella and talked and talked and talked (they had just walked 80 miles of the Portuguese Camino).
Tuesday Sept. 23
This morning we caught the bus back to Santiago. We had three extra days before we were booked back in Madrid so we were unsure what to do. Deb did some research very quickly and found out that a neat city to visit (towards Madrid which was an 8 hour bus ride) was the ancient university city of Salamanca. Salamanca had the 4th oldest university in Europe First, we went back to Santiago for one last day, before leaving for Salamanca. We finally managed to hug St. James, and we even ran into and had lunch with the Canadian women (we hadn’t see them since Portomarin). Turned out that one of them had broken her ankle and had to fly home from Madrid. Nightmare story.
Anyway, we fooled around the rest of the day and ate an early dinner.
Wednesday Sept. 24. We took the 6 hour bus ride from Santiago to Salamanca. Salamanca was not impressive when we got in at the bus station, but when we walked to the old city we were blown away. It was wonderful! The Plaza Mayor was about 3 blocks from our hotel, and it was the most fun plaza we saw in Spain. It was huge, and it was packed with people. It was also ringed with tables from a dozen different cafes. We saw lots of young people in costumes that we assumed were fraternity/sorority groups. It had been a long bus ride so we didn’t do much besides dinner and walking a few streets of Salamanca (by the way, the Plaza and city of Salamanca are the setting for last year’s movie, Vantage Point-a thriller).
Thursday Sept. 25
We decided to see everything we could today. We spent a couple of hours in the two cathedrals (old and new) and walked to the top of each. We saw the “shell” house, had lunch. That afternoon we went to see the monastery and church of St. Stephen and then the convent across the street from it. We finished up by walking the ancient Roman bridge across the river. A beautiful day and a beautiful city. That evening we had dinner and walked the streets one last time.
Friday Sept. 26th.
We took 2 ½ hour bus ride to Madrid today, then a taxi to our hotel. We loved Salamanca, and were getting ready for this part of the journey to end. We walked one last time around Madrid and visited our favorite plazas. Deb did a lot of shopping and I read. A quiet dinner that night.
Saturday Sept. 27th we took the Metro to the airport and got Deb on her plane. I decided to kill the day walking around Madrid. Sat and had coffee, walked all over, sent e-mails, and read. Hard not to feel sad about the end of the trip, but I am homesick, and tired, and miss everyone.
Sunday Sept. 29.
Took a taxi to the airport at 7am. Got on my plane. Changed planes in Dublin (early afternoon Irish time) and in Chicago (at 4pm). Arrived home at 9pm-17 hours after I started. What a day. What a trip.
Since being home I spent several days in New York with my good friends the Girouxs, went to Texas to see my mom, her husband and my new sisters, went to San Antonio to see good friends the Schultz’s, Abbie, and our Godson, Noah. And this weekend we head to Atlanta to watch our granddaughters go trick or treating, and attend Lauren’s 6th birthday party. So, my sabbatical begins and ends in Georgia with family.

Since I’ve been home I have been thinking a lot about what I wanted to accomplish, what my goals were, what my sabbatical meant to me. I don’t return to work for 6 weeks (Nov.17) so I have a lot of time to think.

I had lots of goals for my sabbatical: to go to Lauren’s first full day of kindergarten; to spend time with Kyle and Deb; to climb Croagh Patrick, Skellig Michael, and see Glendalough; to stay on Iona and Holy Island and walk St. Cuthbert’s Way; to walk part of the Camino and obtain my Compostela (the certificate that you receive if you walk the last 100 kilometers). I told everyone (if they asked) that I wanted to walk where people of great faith had walked-saints and sinners, pilgrims and peregrinos. I wanted to see and experience, to a limited degree, what ancient pilgrims experienced, to immerse myself in the Celtic saints and places. I wanted to get away from church and job for awhile and see what that felt like. For 28 years I have been so completely dedicated to serving in the church that I didn’t know how I would be outside of it. I wanted to be alone and with strangers, without being Fr. John. I wanted, in other words, to be away-and see how that felt, and who I was.
I think that’s what I did. I think I accomplished that goal. People keep asking me, “Are you rested?” “ Do you feel refreshed, revived?” I guess so. I loved my sabbatical, and I loved coming home. I loved all the things I did, and I couldn’t wait to get home and see my friends. I learned some things about myself, as always, I grew in my estimation for my wife and son, who were real inspirations on this trip. I am so incredibly grateful to Trinity and my mom and her husband for making this possible financially. I think I will have to wait awhile and see who I am a month from now, a year from now, to see what kind of effect this sabbatical had on me. How did God use this time away. Before leaving I told the parish that there was only one good reason to take a sabbatical-to become a better person, to become a better priest. I will have to wait and see if that was accomplished. One Catholic priest said, that the real Camino (life journey) doesn’t begin until Santiago (in other words when you arrive at your goal). I will have to see what I have learned about being on Camino.
Thanks
John+

Website for St. Cuthbert’s Way
http://stcuthbertsway.net/
Website/message board for Camino
http://www.pilgrimage-to-santiago.com/board/
Maps of the Camino
http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/caminomaps.html

I hope to put some of the pictures from the sabbatical on this blog soon.