A star from the East

Yesterday a star appeared from the East. The star in the picture to be exact. It arrived in the post from the Island of Gotland which is in the Baltic Sea to the East of Sweden. It is a charming gift from Christine, a pilgrim, reader of this blog and regular correspondent. It will have a prominent place and shine on the journey to Christmas which begins today.


Over the next four weeks there will be a lot of preparation and a lot of fun. It is a time of the year I love and hate, sometimes in equal measure. But set against the crass materialism of this time of the year is also the sense of community and pilgrimage which can be engendered. My own programme is determined well in advance. Tomorrow evening around 50 people from around Clapham will assemble to form a community choir. Many will never have sung before. The inability to read music is the norm and the only requirement for membership is to join in enthusiastically. But by 9pm tomorrow evening this group of strangers who only came together at 7.30 will know each other a bit better and they will also be singing in three part harmony. The look of surprise on their faces when the three parts are brought together for the first time is always a joy. I’ve already prepared CDs of the parts so they can practice at home, in the bath, in the shower or in the car. Over the next four weeks they will laugh together and sing better and better. Many have no church connection but together they will lead a full candle lit carol service at 11.30 pm followed by sung Midnight Mass. Their achievement is quite magical. Perhaps more of that later in the season.


The route to Christmas is well waymarked. Special Advent services at 12.30 each Saturday attract 120 people who take a break from Christmas shopping on Clapham High Street. Then the Sundays of Advent with the music becoming gradually more festive over the four weeks. On Christmas Eve afternoon the turkey will be cooked and at 6 pm 600 people (including what seems like 300 children) will sing the first Christmas Carols at the first Mass of Christmas. A different 600 people will pack the church at 11.30 pm. Last year we finished at 1am on the dot. The community choir led an all-singing congregation in a rousing rendition of O Come All Ye Faithful, every stop was out on the mighty Hunter organ and all 1600 pipes heralded Christmas. The great procession left the altar and proceeded out of the church. Then a strange thing happened. Almost mischievously I segued into a setting of I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. It was meant as a light-hearted voluntary as people left. Only they didn’t leave. What started as a few voices joining in led to every single person staying in their places and singing their hearts our once again. The confused priests who had been waiting outside to wish everyone a Merry Christmas as they left came back in to to see what the delay was!

Then on Christmas morning two more full houses at 10 and 12 noon followed by Christmas lunch and rucksack packing on Boxing Day. Well anyway – that’s the plan.

The last week or so has also seen another beginning. A new Guide to the Camino del Salvador. It has been written by three friends, Laurie Reynolds, Rebekah Scott and Piers Nicholson. In a few days it will join the other guides available to download for a donativo from the CSJ website: http://www.csj.org.uk/guides-online.htm
The list of on–line guides is getting longer – The Camino Inglés, the route to Finisterre and Muxía, the Camino Portugués – from Lisbon and from Porto, and the Tunnel Route. These Guides have all been written by pilgrims and will be regularly updated as other pilgrims send corrections or changes or new information. The new Guide to the Camino del Salvador is excellent. Reading it makes me want to walk the route. It is a challenging Camino but the selection of Laurie and Rebekah’s photographs guarantees that there are huge rewards for the effort of climbing over the mountains.
Writing a Guidebook for pilgrims on the routes to Santiago has parallels in music. I was very fortunate to hear the late Erik Routley speak many years ago. In his day a prominent musicologist and composer he said that writing a memorable melody with meaningful lyrics was like throwing a ball at the listener. If you stand too near them they can catch it so easily they won’t remember doing it. Similarly if you stand too far away and throw the ball it will be so impossible to catch they won’t even try. What makes music memorable, he argued, was the composer’s talent in getting the distance right.

This definitely applies to Guidewriting. If the Guide describes every waymark and every turning and gives too many specific directions to “walk 200 yards and turn left at the phone box” then for me it can minimise the challenge and the interest. I think this can also apply to routes and I feel very ambivalent about the Camino Francés where nowadays it is so busy all you have to do is follow the throng and there are so many albergues placed at such frequency the only challenge is deciding whether or not to race the others to find the best bed. But like people there are many kinds of routes and the Camino del Salvador sounds like a corker and I think the authors of the Guide have got the balance just right and give enough information on directions and accommodation to walk the route without getting lost.

Walking the Camino del Salvador is now definitely on the list of routes still to be walked.

Now to find the right place for the star... thank you Christine.

A toast - "To the new boots"

Last week I had the most wonderful lunch with Andy (photo) who has recently walked the Camino Levante from Valencia. I plan to walk this route at the beginning of 2011 so this was a meal of discovery for me. The route passes through some of the most historic parts of Spain. The journey starts in Valencia where I will no doubt meet up with Paco one of my camino amigos.

I first met Paco on the Via de la Plata a few years ago. We met in a small village which comprises only a bar and an albergue. I was walking straight through and Paco was sleeping there, but we shared a few brief words.

We met again the next day when Paco and an older German chap who had walked from Gibraltar sped past walking at 6kms an hour at least. We met up again many kilometres later at the wonderful albergue in Santa Marta de Terra, the Casa Anita. This place is owned by Anita and her ever helpful husband Domingo. As well as the albergue they run a bodega and produce their own wine. Limitless amounts are provided free of charge to pilgrims.

I parted company with Paco there and I thought I’d never see him again. Two years and many Caminos later I was walking the route to Finisterre with Esteban. We had taken the less travelled way to Muxía and then walked backed to Finisterre. Muxía is a beautiful fishing village and the route enters and leaves along the coastline. It considers itself to be the “end of the religious pilgrimage” and the Pilgrims’ Office there issues its own Certificate as does the albergue in Finisterre. Muxía is a place of legend where they say that the Virgin Mary arrived on a stone boat to encourage St James in his work preaching to the Spanish. It is said that parts of the stone boat remain on the beach in front of the Church of Saint Mary of the Boat, Santa Maria de la Barca.

On the way from Muxía to Finisterre there is a short cut into the village of Lires which involves negotiating sunken stepping stones. It is necessary to check the depth of the river, and on the day we were walking, we just managed to get across. By the time we did we were ready for lunch. Although small, Lires boasts three bars each of which appeared to be serving food. We picked one at random and settled at table. Across the dining room I saw a man and a woman eating lunch. The man’s face was vaguely familiar. Since the Big Man’s Spanish is better than mine I persuaded him to go and ask these strangers if we had ever met them before. It turned out to be Paco from the Via de la Plata. He had been walking the Camino del Norte and his wife had joined him in Santiago for the jaunt out to Finisterre and Muxía. But, they pointed out, Paco was really the pilgrim, for his wife this was just a short break. We left them after lunch with a warning about the river crossing and advice that it might be best to take the road route.

Never thinking we would meet again, we set off for Finisterre, stayed overnight and got an early bus back to go to the 12 noon Pilgrims’ Mass in the Cathedral. It was packed as usual and we squeezed into a pew near the front. I looked around and there they were…Paco and his wife, sitting in front of us. “Hola otra vez” we said. They were delighted to see us again. “How did you get on with the river crossing?” we asked. “ I was fine” said Paco’s wife with a mischievous smile ,"but the Pilgrim fell in!”

Since then my interest in the Camino Levante has grown and I’ve kept in touch with Paco from time to time by email. It will be good to see him again. And also to walk to Toledo where in a small bar on September the 11th I watched the twin towers being attacked and collapsing. The bar fell absolutely silent at the sight on the television with the only sound being the sad prophesy from the bar owner who said with a sigh “they will go to war over this”.

I'm very much looking forward to visiting the Cathedral in Toledo again. I remember that first visit when on entering the Sacristy you discover a display of pictures of which any art gallery would be proud. The great ceiling fresco by Lucas Jordán and painting after painting by El Greco.

From there the route heads to Ávila birthplace of the Spanish mystic St Teresa of Ávila then through endless meseta to Medina del Campo which still practices the quite mad (imho) Spanish “sport” of bullrunning where they let fighting bulls loose in the streets of the city leading then eventually to the bullring.

The route then goes onto to Zamora a very beautiful and much undiscovered Spanish city where it joins the Via de la Plata. In total 1300 kms. 7 weeks of fabulous walking.

Lunch with Andy was an inspiration. Much talking and much red wine. We were joined by Don Antonio who was fascinated by Andy’s Credencial with its vast array of sellos. I can see La Terazza offering sellos sometime soon.

I woke the next day with a slightly fuzzy head. It must have been something I ate and had of course nothing to do with the complimentary chupitos of home-made Orujo which Don Antonio insisted should finish the meal. But I was also excited. Planning a pilgrimage always does that to me.

Springing into action I phoned Esteban who I knew needed to buy new boots for the Hogmanay Camino. “Right Big Man, we’ll meet on Saturday and walk the 20 kms round trip to Itchy Feet in central London and then back to La Terazza”. And yesterday that’s exactly what we did. 20 kms followed by a plate of scalding hot Caldo Gallego then a plate of Cocido, slowly braised chicken, ham, pigs trotters, onions and chick peas.

Over post-prandial drinks the new boots were duly passed around the boys in the bar. They were thoroughly examined and after some debate about their merits they received universal approval. They just had to be toasted. Well … any excuse.

Itchy Feet

Arghhhh. October is gone and the diary for November is full. My plans to return to the Madrid route to finish the new Guide have disintegrated. That will have to wait until next year. As the rain hurls against the window this morning I was drawn to vivid memories of walking that route earlier in the year. Crossing the mountains again into Segovia to stand gazing at the Roman Viaduct will have to wait. But my feet are itchy to be walking again so I have hatched another plan! Next year is a Holy Year in Santiago. Whenever St James's day (25th July) falls on a Sunday, the cathedral declares a Holy or Jubilee Year. Holy Years fall every 6, 5, 6, and 11 years: the most recent one was in 2004. The next Holy Years will be 2010, 2021, 2027 and 2032. The Puerta Santa (Holy Door), which gives access to the Cathedral from the Plaza de la Quintana is opened on 31st December on the eve of each Holy Year, and walled up again a year later. (For more on the history of the Jubilee year, the plenary indulgence, and the Compostela document, click here.)
Next year over 5 million visitors are expected in Santiago and the Pilgrims' Office estimates that the number of walking or cycling pilgrims will more than double to 250,000. Local authorities and groups of Amigos are furiously preparing extra accommodation along the pilgrim routes to cope with these vast numbers. On New Year's Eve thousands will cram into the Plaza de la Quintana to see the wall being torn down and the Holy Door opened. It is considered great fortune to pass through the door on this night and to pick up a fragment of brick. In the summer Joaquin the organist in the Cathedral invited us into the organ loft to witness the ceremony on CCTV and to have a bird's eye view of the ceremony which follows. I've thought hard about this and decided I'd rather be walking. For me this is a better way to mark the beginning of this special year.

So the flights are booked and me and companero Esteban will fly to Madrid on 28 December after a punishing schedule of Advent and Christmas musical events. We will make our way North to Ponferrada and walk into Santiago by about the 7th of January.

This is the approximate itinerary:

Ponferrada to begin walking on Wednesday 30 December.
Wednesday - Vilafranca del Bierzo or Pereje.
Thursday 31st - O Cebreiro
Friday 1st - Triacastela
Saturday 2nd - Sarria
Sunday 3rd -Portomartin
Monday 4th - Palas de Rei
Tuesday 5th - Arzua
Wednesday 6th -Pedrouzo
Thursday arrive Santiago

Total - 211 kms. A good walk. I'll try to keep everyone posted as we go along.


The weather is unpredictable and on my last winter camino I got a very nasty chest infection. I also experienced freezing conditions in some albergues. So using the new Camino Travel Centre I've booked hostals along the Way for this trip. It was all remarkably straightforward apart from the fact that it is not yet clear where we will stay or eat on the last day of the year, the Noche Vieja, or for us two Scotsmen, Hogmanay. But one thing is sure wherever we end up the bar takings will certainly be boosted that night.

One of the best pieces of advice I was ever given was to treat winter walking in Spain exactly the same as I would in Scotland. The cold can be just as cold and of course in Galicia the rain and wind can be just as fierce. In saying that I've also needed sunscreen and had to roll up my trousers into makeshift shorts in January in Spain. So preparations have already begun selecting the gear. I expect the rucksack to be heavier than the 5kgs I managed to get it down to in the Summer but the target is no more that 7 kgs or so.

The key, of course, is good layering with lightweight but highly effective "technical" clothing plus an outer rain shell.

As I've mentioned before on the message boards for the last three or four years I've relied on advice and supplies from a really good company called Itchy Feet They have two shops, one in London and the other in Bath. They also have an excellent on line shop. This is a company run and staffed by experienced travellers. They try out the gear they sell and they know exactly what they are talking about.

Over the years I've always advised people preparing for their Camino to only go to suppliers during the week to avoid being served by inexperienced weekend temps. That may be true of other companies but with Itchy Feet I've always found the sales assistants interested, knowledgable and quick to seek advice from other members of staff if they don't know the answer to a question.

And it isn't all about sales or profits. I went to buy walking sandals before going to write the Guide to the Portuguese Route as I knew it would be very hot. Alex in the London shop waxed eloquent about sandals he had walked in in very rugged conditions. Alas they aren't made in the size which fits me best. I was going to make do with a slightly bigger sandal but Alex was quick to point out I'd run into problems. I plumped for a pair of cheaper Tevas that did the job just as well.

I have also noticed particularly on the American message boards a number of people recommending Patagonia raingear. The Patagonia range isn't particularly cheap but it is very good. The R2 Jacket is for me the rolls royce fleece and is indispensable. I also purchased a Patagonia Rainshadow jacket as an outer shell. It sat in the cupboard for nearly a year before I brought it out recently to try out in heavy rain. It felt good. But by the end of the walk I felt cold around the shoulders and when I took it off my shoulders were wet to the touch. Without really thinking more about it I found a couple of complaints on walker message boards about these jackets not being waterproof. I wrote to Itchy Feet asking if any other customers had complained of this problem. Within a few days I got a reply. No they hadn't but they would happily send the jacket back to Patagonia for testing and if shown to be faulty then they would replace it or offer a refund. Really good service.

But that got me thinking. Had I been too hasty to assume the jacket was faulty? Heavy rain was predicted all of this weekend in London so I thought I'd try it out again. First I stood under the shower for 15 minutes. I was dry under the jacket. Hmmmm. Then a brisk walk in the rain. After an hour or so I checked again. Yes - I was wet. Then it dawned on me. This was condensation not rainwater. I'm cold blooded so I always wear layers and have to take them off when I heat up. No matter how breathable outer shells are if you generate heat and perspiration - moisture will build up. This time searching the message boards I found reviews which said things like..."and the only time I felt wet with this jacket was from my own sweat".

Therefore on the second walk in heavy rain I properly adjusted the pit zips for ventilation and wore only one layer. Result: Less wet.

Lesson learned. Take my own advice and try things out properly. But thanks to Itchy Feet for great equipment and a speedy response.

Roll on Hogmanay.

The journey we make on our own

Remembrance Sunday, London 2009

Today the red Wreath of Remembrance and the white Wreath of Peace will be laid at the war memorial in Clapham. The Wreath of Remembrance is in memory of all of who have died in all wars throughout the world. The Wreath of Peace embodies our hopes and prayers that peace will prevail and that wars will be cease.

Today in the Book of Remembrance in which people write the names of their loved ones who have died an entry reads, “In memory of all pilgrims to Santiago”.

The pilgrims who attend this Church offer these songs to mark this day.

When I am down and, O my soul, so weary; when troubles come and my heart burdened be;

then I am still and wait here in the silence, until you come and sit awhile with me …
There is no life, no life without its hunger; each restless heart beats so imperfectly;

but when you come and I am filled with wonder, sometimes I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up so I can stand on mountains; you raise me up to walk on stormy seas.I am strong when I am on your shoulders; you raise me up to more than I can be.

Traditionally the Iona Boat song is said to have been played when the bodies of the ancient Scottish kings were being ferried to their final resting place.

From the falter of breath,
through the silence of death,
to the wonder that’s breaking beyond;
God has woven a way, unapparent by day,
for all those of whom heaven is fond.

From frustration and pain,
through hope hard to sustain,
to the wholeness here promised, there known;
Christ has gone where we fear and has vowed to be near
on the journey we make on our own.

Unknown territory

My first Camino I walked alone on the Via de la Plata. When I got nearer Santiago the presence of the other occasional pilgrim was a nice diversion from the solitary weeks before. My jaunts on the Camino Inglés were almost all alone and only once I encountered a group of Spanish pilgrims with no rucksacks who took tourist pictures of me and shamefacedly boarded their air conditioned coach a couple of hours later. When I stepped out one November morning a year or so ago from St Jean de Pied Port on the Camino Francés I walked into the dawn mist alone. Not for long. Soon I encountered a procession of other pilgrims. This was quite a culture shock for me but there was no way of avoiding contact and I fell in with a small group of much younger people who were astonished I kept up with them. We ate lunch together and shared chocolate huddled on the windswept Alto de Perdón. Gradually in this wee group people got to know each other. Sometimes we would walk alone going ahead or lagging behind the others. Sometimes we walked as three or four and sometimes in twos. I met Donald MacDonald, a man slightly younger than me who was Norwegian. His grandparents had been Scottish. I’d never have guessed.

On the Camino Francés I was even drawn to consider joining the others in the albergues. Never my first choice for a number of good reasons. But I found I didn’t want to leave the group whose companionship I was enjoying.

Many pilgrims make lifelong friends with those they meet. Some meet future partners. Most enjoy the fellowship, although like every other situation in life normal rules of caution apply. There are strange and odd people on the Camino too. But walking together, sharing the purpose, the difficulties and the joys encourages an intimacy more quickly engendered than elsewhere in life. Many people choose the Camino Francés because they will experience this fellowship.

Marion Marples describes one of her experiences: “Give a hug to the Apostle,” strangers cry as I pass. I eventually arrive at Santiago’s shrine and, taking a deep breath, climb up behind the seated silver St James. My hug of gratitude encompasses all the people, known and unknown, whose efforts have ensured that I arrived safely after my 500-mile walking pilgrimage.
Later, in the narrow streets of the old town, I am surprised to hear my name shouted out. A friend has calculated my arrival date, waited for me to appear and now races towards me to give me the most enormous warm hug. No explanation, just a hug.”
Sitting in the Pilgrims’ Office looking at the daily stream of pilgrims seeking the Compostela, the friends are obvious. When called forward one by one they are reluctant to part as if realising the last stamp is the end of the journey and the closeness they are enjoying.

This is particularly true of the couples, some just married, some celebrating a long time together, who make the pilgrimage together. Like Hans and Gretel (I’m not joking) who walked out of their home in the Netherlands and kept walking all the way to Santiago. They stood hand in hand beaming as they told me their story. They had planned to arrive on this day and the date on their Compostela was very special to them – their 40th wedding anniversary. They were brimming over with all that they felt the pilgrimage together had given them. The time they had together, meeting other people, just being. I asked them if it had all been good. “Like marriage a long Camino like ours has its difficulties but overall it has been wonderful,” they answered. I couldn’t resist telling them the story of the older married couple who were asked if during their life together they had ever thought of divorce. After thinking for a moment they replied, “Divorce not ever, but we did think about murder from time to time.” They laughed and like two teenagers they almost danced out of the office to celebrate their anniversary.

For me most poignant of all are the parents with children, mothers with daughters, fathers with sons and vice versa.

Father and Son, Steve 45 and Paul 17 took 3 weeks to walk the last 250kms of the Via de la Plata, the 1000 kms route from Seville in the South of Spain. I asked them how it had been for them. Steve said “Though I masked it as best as I could, I boarded that plane gripped with fear. “What have I gotten us into?” I wondered. “Will we be safe?” I slept poorly the first couple of nights precisely because of those fears, but the Camino led me to confront some fundamental spiritual issues in my life: the fact that I am not in control of circumstances, that I need to be more faithful in my daily life, that I need to be a better steward of the environment. I also grew closer to my son in lasting ways. It is my hope that, in 25 years, he will look back on our Camino as one of the building blocks of his spiritual life.
Paul said, “I remember vividly what I was thinking as I stepped onto that airline flight to Spain: “Why did I ever agree to leave home for three whole weeks just to walk on some stupid trail in a foreign country?” This is also what I was thinking for the first few days of actual walking. However, one day, when my dad and I were standing on a small bridge in a beautiful section of forest, it suddenly hit me. There was no place in the world I would have rather been than right there at that time, not even at home in my own bed. And even now there is still nothing I would rather have spent those three weeks doing. “
Last week I met Kate and her dad, Gene, who had completed all of the Via de la Plata from Seville and were travelling home through London. The two of them looked great and simply exuded serenity. 7 weeks of living life in the most simple way does that. How was their pilgrimage? How did it feel walking with your dad? How did it feel making a pilgrimage with your daughter? Both took on a faraway look that I have seen before. I could see that the experience had been so powerful it was difficult to describe. It would have sounded trite in any other circumstance but they said they had left as parent and child and returned as life-long friends.

So on Camino we can encounter new friends and deepen older relationships. It seems that parents and children can discover each other in quite new ways. There are no statistics to prove how many couples, families or parents and children travel to Santiago together. There is no evidence of the effect on relationships apart from the many stories. But when you walk you realise how could it not be so?

Which leads me finally to a quote from Ben Okri which has become a favourite:

“Most of us are pretty astonished when we feel love, and discover to our amazement that it’s not like what we thought it was, nor how the films tell us it is. It is different; it is richer. It’s very troubling and very chaotic. It turns our world upside down. It challenges many of our belief systems and our prejudices. But love also inspires the confidence to take risks with one another. You just don’t know what trust in another person can lead to. And love is about courage. Do we have the courage to smile at somebody we meet for the first time, the courage to be friendly and warm, the courage to venture into unknown territory and encounter other people, with common sense and a clear, awakened mind?”

You get more out than you put in

For those who moan, including me from time to time, about all that could be improved for pilgrims, I offer this short film which was made for a campaign I was running some years ago:

In that vein,I’ve been thinking a lot about the people the Camino has brought into my life. And they keep coming. In my in-box this week there were several emails from pilgrims who have been using the on-line guides. The master copy of Laurie Reynold's new Guide to the route from Lisbon to Porto also arrived. There were one or two birthday greetings from Camino friends who caught up with last week’s post and I exchanged birthday greetings with another pilgrim pen friend resident somewhere in the Baltic Sea. I also got a note from an American lassie I met on the Camino Frances one cold November. She was walking with her German boyfriend who had been a Triathalon competitor who left her frequently to walk ahead 40 kms! I never saw them again after Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Kate struggled, got blisters, had to go ahead by bus. I wasn’t sure the whole Camino thing was for her. They had a light hearted website which was never updated and they drifted off my radar.

Leap forward 18 months and the note read (heavily paraphrased): “Hi John this is Kate from the bar in Santo Domingo, I’ve no longer got the boyfriend but I’m going to walk the Via de la Plata from Seville with my Dad”.

We corresponded. They arrived in Santiago last week despite Dad’s bad knee and set off for Finisterre. They had hoped I would be in the Pilgrims’ Office so we could meet when they arrived then realised they travel back to the US via London. La Terazza here we come!

The last week or so also saw the conclusion of Laurie Reynold’s most excellent Guide to the route from Lisbon to Porto. It is written as a pilgrim walker for other walkers. I enjoyed doing the final edit and laughed at Laurie’s honesty “It was here I got lost…could future walkers send further information please”! That plea goes to the heart of these on line Guides. Have a look - they are growing in number. People are downloading them and using them. More importantly as I learned from my in box in the last week they are sending really helpful suggestions and observations. Those of us who write the Guides put in place the basic architecture of a very useable Guide but it is only through up-dates from pilgrims will these guides always be accurate. Guides written for pilgrims by pilgrims up dates by pilgrims – free to download. But please make a donation! That’s the spirit of pilgrimage.

As well as reading Laurie’s Guide I’ve been reading Hape Kerkeling’s book about his pilgrimage which is titled I’m Off Then. I decided before I opened the cover that I wouldn’t like it. The cover reads:
“I’m Off Then has sold more than three million copies in Germany and has been translated into 11 languages. The number of pilgrims along the Camino has increased by 20 percent since the book was published. Hape Kerkeling’s spiritual journey has struck a chord”.
As I started this book resentment piled on resentment; he took buses, slept not in albergues or hostals but in 4* hotels along the way and being the German equivalent of Billy Connelly he laughs at the other pilgrims he met along the way. But as I read, his very gentle style began to calm me down. It was HIS camino and I realised he poked more fun at himself than anyone else. And after all…I’ve stayed in my fair share of good hotels along the routes and I have met some very odd characters. So I began to enjoy it and as he talked more and more about his “search” I became increasingly intrigued as to what he was searching for. From being a couch potato he got fitter after walking many days. He was pleased about that but that wasn’t enough. He met friends and companions who drifted in and out of his journey. He had splendid end of day dinners but they weren’t enough. He reflected on his background, his sexuality, his fame and success but these reflections weren’t enough. Then a page turns and he describes how he saw a child write on a wall with coloured chalk the phrase Yo y tu, (you and me). He obviously thought about it deeply because when I turned the page to the next day what he wrote came as a complete surprise:
“Then it happened! I had my own encounter with God. Yo y tu was the motto of yesterday’s treck, and to me it sounds like a secret pact. What happened there is between Him and me. But the school wall bore three words: me and you. The bond between Him and me is an entity unto itself.
To encounter God, you first have to issue and invitation to Him; He does not come without being asked – a divine form of good manners. It’s up to us. He establishes and individual relationship with us. Only a person who truly loves is capable of sustaining this relationship.
I am getting freer by the day. My emotional seesawing on the Camino has eased up and I am seeing things clearly. After running the gamut of emotional frequencies, I’ve come to settle on a single frequency and I get great reception”.

As I’ve written before this type of God happening has never been for me but I recognise that others do have powerful experiences. But I have to be honest the Camino has made me pause and reflect about deeply personal issues in a spiritual way. One such experience was sitting on the bank of the Rio Esla having a picnic in perfect companionship. The sun shone, the water was clear, the air was as still as can be. In that moment I realised that despite difficulties my life had an abundance of good things in it. Maybe more than I deserved. So when I got back I decided it was time to share. And so I was introduced to Brendan.

Brendan Barry, actor, gentleman and my friend was my guest for lunch in La Terazza on Thursday. It was a special day, his 91st birthday. He was born in the year the First World War ended. The same year Billy Graham was born. He was to grow up in the roaring 20’s and witness the rise of Hitler and the outbreak of the Second World War. He saw gas lamps become electric and homes get telephones. He loves colour television but still doesn’t understand computers.

After a period as an engineer which was the profession his parents chose for him he got his first job as a stage hand in a theatre, then soon a walk on part, then he got to speak. Getting an agent followed and he then embarked on a career during which he worked non-stop for 50 years.

He played many famous parts, became expert in Shakespeare and worked with some of our most famous actors. He was in his 80th year when Myasthenia Gravis struck and he had to give up the role he was playing in the West End. He lives in the most modest of circumstances in Clapham and he allows me to visit him usually once a week. During these visits he talks a lot! He recites Shakespeare in a deep, rich and booming voice. He goes out every morning for his daily shopping and every evening he has a glass of wine. We had more than a glass together on his birthday!

He is full of wisdom about this pilgrimage of life we are all on…”accept what you are given and decide to enjoy it”…”if you think about getting old you WILL get old” and on his birthday he quoted Abraham Lincoln, “It isn’t the years in your life that are important, it is the life in your years”.

As for drink…”I used to drink champagne from a bowl I loved it so much. I drank at least a bottle a day. But on my 80th birthday I decided it was time to be a little more abstemious”. Brendan is quickly becoming by role model. He continues to give me more than I give him. Thank you Brendan,happy birthday and continuing Buen Camino!

Viva Santiago

What a powerful force this Camino has.

I’ve been really busy recently with a number of things. I’ve been helping out a small local charity that has been going bankrupt, I’ve been dealing with family things in Scotland, I’ve been playing the organ at more things than I should have agreed to, I’ve been proof reading Laurie Reynold’s most excellent new guide to the Route from Lisbon to Porto. I’ve been corresponding with pilgrims on camino and at home. I’ve been visiting a 91 year old Shakespearean actor. And I’ve been lunching a lot.

What I haven’t been doing is writing this blog. And I’ve been missing it.

I haven’t been short of ideas or stories. In fact I had the most fascinating lunch with Janet, a pilgrim from Adelaide who was visiting London having completed a Camino of 2000 kms from France to Santiago. I recorded our conversation so I could write some of her stories. She taught me yet again that the simplicity of life on pilgrimage is what draws us to it in the first place and it is what keeps us going back for more. I really enjoyed meeting her. More of that conversation later.
I also had lunch with Piers Nicholson. We met in the Athenaeum one of these old, splendid London gentleman’s clubs although nowadays they admit women, of course. The membership of the Athenaeum is exclusive and is reserved to the refined, dignified and intellectual. Piers is all of these things. He is also a well walked pilgrim and he developed the website http://www.santiago-compostela.net/ which now receives 1.5 million hits every year.
Piers is a retired scientist who now spends his time making high class sundials and he recently walked the Camino del Salvador with my friend Rebekah Scott. I have enough stories from that conversation to fill several blog posts. But I’ve got to write them!

Being away from the blog for a couple of weeks has been strange. Too busy to think about it and too busy to write I still felt strangely guilty that some of the stories going round in my head weren’t being written down.

I resolved to put that right on my birthday. Today!

One of the stories I was going to write about is the Priest and Altar Boy. I’ve been mulling it over for a while. The world is in such a sad state that the very title nowadays has a sinister flavour to it. Whereas in fact the Priest and the Altar Boy or Crego e Monaguillo in Gallego is one of the finest white wines of Galicia. It is produced in a vineyard owned by the family of Galician Priest Padre Ernesto and his godson, who used to serve as his altar boy, is the manager of the winery. Hence the Priest and the Altar Boy, a delicious award winning wine.
I was introduced to this wine in a Galician Restaurant in Clapham. I’ve been going there for a few years now. One day I was at my office in the City in London and I hailed a taxi to get me home quickly. London taxi drivers are notorious conversationalists. Usually extremely opinionated on every subject under the sun. My driver that day was no exception. As we drove through Clapham he asked if I went to any restaurants in the area. “Oh yes” I said, “ I’m fond of Spanish food and I usually go to La Rueda”. “La Rueda?” he asked incredulously, “ Oh you don’t want to go there…you MUST go to La Terraza on Bedford Road, that’s where all the Spanish people go.” He went on to explain, “My dad is Spanish and he almost lives there, they even have a Menu del Dia!”That started a fine tradition of Saturday lunches after rehearsals and dinners on high days and holidays. Don Antonio the Jefe de la Cocina is a man of profound wisdom and gentleness and all of them from owners to waiters have the warmest of welcome and the liveliest sense of humour.

On Saturdays the “boys” congregate. 15 – 20 middle aged men drinking beer, eating Menus of the Dia, chatting, joking at the bar. Families arrive in considerable numbers. Children run around smiled at benignly by the adults. Frequently regulars have to squeeze in because there is a party of 80 odd people eating and dancing to celebrate a first communion or a great anniversary. La Terraza is home to many. It is so Spanish even the most English feel compelled to try and speak in Spanish. My scallop shell hangs proudly on the bar. But more than that it is truly Galician. Caldo, delicious stews and copious fish and sea food constantly flow from the kitchen and more than a few local Scots and Irish people have made the Celtic connection and their accents can be heard amidst the Spanish and Gallego. This is where the Confraternity of St James celebrated a 25th Anniversary lunch and will do so again on 28th November.

And so last night having played for the Feast of St Gerard me and the big man who was singing hastened to La Terraza for a pre-birthday supper. They were delighted to see us. “Caballeros, we have a surprise for you this evening!” they said, and a few minutes later we were introduced to Padre Ernesto in the flesh. During the introductions it was established we were pilgrims. He was delighted with my concha brought from Santiago hanging on the bar. “What’s that you’re drinking?” he enquired. We explained it was the white wine of the house. “Not nearly as good as Crego e Monaguillo” we explained with a smile, “but cheaper!” He laughed and went off to join a gathering crowd of people. The next moment the waiter placed a bottle of Crego e Monaguillo in front of us. “A gift from the priest” he explained. Well I have to say that’s the second time a Spanish priest has bought me a drink. That’s twice more than Scottish priests ever have!

I was delighted. What a nice introduction to my birthday. I was in mid sentence when I stopped speaking. My jaw dropped. I looked over my friend’s shoulder at the figure in the doorway and I thought I was seeing things. The last time I’d seen the man standing there was on the feast of St James, sitting on the throne in Santiago Cathedral as the representative of the King delivering his greeting to the Archbishop and all of Spain. This was Alberto NÚÑEZ FEIJÓO, the President of Galicia. In La Terraza. Well you could have knocked me over with the cork from the bottle of Crego e Monaguillo.

More so when as if on a state visit he was introduced to us as pilgrims and friends of Santiago. He was genuinely delighted and having toured the restaurant to meet various people he returned to give us a final embrace before he went to dinner. Giving us both a hug he declared “Viva Santiago”. Indeed.
“So señor,” said Don Antonio, ever the joker, “this is only the evening before your birthday…tomorrow we have the King of Spain coming to lunch.”

I can’t wait. Viva Santiago.