{"id":3796,"date":"2013-11-15T12:58:27","date_gmt":"2013-11-15T11:58:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/?p=3796"},"modified":"2015-08-22T21:02:18","modified_gmt":"2015-08-22T19:02:18","slug":"miracles-two-days-camino-frances","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/miracles-two-days-camino-frances\/","title":{"rendered":"Miracles. Two Days on the Camino Franc\u00e9s: Ponferrada – Hospital da Condesa (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Miracles. \u00a0Two Days on the Camino Franc\u00e9s: \u00a0Ponferrada – Hospital da Condesa (1)<\/h1>\n

\"P1020640\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0Day 1. Ponferrrada – Pereje<\/strong><\/h2>\n

Some days a rucksack is much heavier than the day before, even though it is carrying less; and some days legs which had happily and silently been gliding along like a Rolls Royce in a cort\u00e8ge creak and groan and puff like the Vital Spark.<\/em>\u00a0<\/a><\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>

The Vital Spark The creaking groaning puffer of Para Handy.<\/a> Photograph by kind permission of Alan Kempster https:\/\/flic.kr\/p\/8DCCt7<\/a><\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

The day I set off from the pilgrims’\u00a0hostel in Ponferrada was one such day. \u00a0The hostel is very good indeed but was packed full. \u00a0My dormitory filled up after lights out with Italians about to begin their Camino. \u00a0Between their first-night excitement and the early-rising Austrians my night’s sleep was very short. \u00a0The voluntary hospitaleros offer a short evening prayer in the adjacent sanctuary. \u00a0The prayers are said in many languages and many pilgrims leave prayer requests written in the visitors’ book. I should have put in a prayer request that I be patient, kind and tolerant of Italians and Austrians, that I see only the positive in our cultural differences ( like tagliatellis and pretty girls in dirndls) and that I don’t mislay my ear plugs. \u00a0That would be too much of a miracle to ask for and, anyway, I don’t ask for miracles and signs. \u00a0They are graces which are scattered in our Path by One who loves us to be noticed and discovered rather than requested.<\/p>\n

Praying did nothing for my complete lethargy the following morning. \u00a0My spirit was heavy, my legs were heavy, even my hat was heavy. \u00a0The Castle, too, was heavy, a huge Templar fortress almost blocking the Camino.<\/p>\n

\"Heavy<\/a>

Heavy castle, Ponferrada.<\/p><\/div>\n

The camino has two routes out of the city. \u00a0I elected the one which passes through the shopping areas and is a bit shorter. \u00a0As usual, I set off with a desire to spend the day in prayer which at this moment consisted in saying to the Almighty that I was in a bad way and needed a shot of energy. \u00a0The way out of Ponferrada seemed interminable and after walking only half an hour I gave in to the temptation of the many caf\u00e9s on either side of the road. \u00a0I resisted until I came to what seemed to be the last of them all.<\/p>\n

Inside it was mainly a shop with a bar. \u00a0A woman behind the bar greeted me as if she had known me all her life with a warmth which lifted me. \u00a0“I’m Ir\u00e8n\u00e9”, she said and even introduced me to her only customer, a regular visitor it seemed. \u00a0I hoped that a coffee would revive me. \u00a0The due\u00f1a Ir\u00e8n\u00e9 served me a large slice of sponge cake which I gladly accepted and ate while answering innumerable questions about my travels and being distracted from my physical woes. \u00a0I was feeling an urge to continue on my way especially as I had only walked 5 km so far and had a desire to make headway because the day threatened heavy rain. However, when I asked to pay she simply gave me another coffee and a larger bit of cake and said, “Stay a bit longer.” \u00a0Another customer came in and \u00a0 I was introduced to the newcomer and then to the girl who had come to work behind the bar for the day, and then to the bread delivery man. \u00a0I left feeling recognised, pampered and included. \u00a0Ir\u00e8n\u00e9, and her customers, had made me rest and even laugh. \u00a0I had been encouraged not to rush on, but to linger and to share.<\/p>\n

\"Unasuming<\/a>

Unassuming bar La Parada.
Serves a special welcome.<\/p><\/div>\n

As I moved on I said thanks to all and in my inner silence to God. \u00a0I was sure I had been guided into that bar. \u00a0My body seemed to have more life in it inspired by this small community whom, I had learned, were suffering badly from the economic crisis. \u00a0I had been particularly touched when a middle aged tramp had come in and se\u00f1ora prepared him what was clearly to be his lunch and packed it all up for him, adding a few treats before giving it to him with a huge smile. The bar was a mini-social centre and rescue mission. In a sense I, too, had been rescued from dwelling on my physical difficulties. \u00a0“A bit of a miracle,” I thought.<\/p>\n

[mapsmarker layer=”24″]<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After another 5km I arrived in Camponaraya, a village which is an outer suburb of Ponferrada which had sprawled on and on. \u00a0My physical strength was draining again and I saw a church open. \u00a0There are very few places to sit down on the camino and churches, if they are open, offer rest as well as sacred space. \u00a0My pauses on the Camino are usually short and I’d already delayed enough in Bar La Parada so I didn’t intend to stay long.<\/p>\n

There was obviously some preparation going on for Mass and I wondered what feast day this might be. It turned out to be San Isodoro Labrador<\/a>, patron Saint of farmers. \u00a0The church was modern and was being prepared, I thought, for a local festival.<\/p>\n

\"Preparing<\/a>

Preparing for the Mass, Parish of Camponaraya, Leon.<\/p><\/div>\n

A woman came up to me and asked, “Are you staying for the Mass?”. \u00a0 When I heard it was not yet for another half hour I said, “No, I really have to get on my way.” \u00a0“Please stay if you can,” she said explaining that the Mass was being broadcast on Radio Maria. \u00a0She went off and spoke to the priest who approached me. \u00a0He, too, wanted me to stay. \u00a0In particular he wanted his parish which stands on the Camino de Santiago to have a pilgrim present for the Mass being broadcast throughout Spain. \u00a0So I stayed, was prayed for and I read a prayer praying for the parish intentions, and I met the parishioners. \u00a0One elderly lady, who had been married in the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostella touched me deeply. She was losing her sight and there is no medical solution. \u00a0She asked me to pray for her saying that miracles do happen. \u00a0 I expect I agreed for she invited me to return to her house to eat with the family.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>

A poor photo, but the statue is Santiago the pilgrim which is taken out each year for the romeria.<\/a><\/p><\/div>\n

Padre Alberto <\/a>is a dynamic priest, a real pastor, who also plays the guitar and writes his own hymns. \u00a0There is a link in the caption under the photo above to a video which gives a flavour of the parish on the day of the Romeria this year when the statue of Santiago is carried up the local hillside where a communal meal is celebrated together with traditional music. \u00a0The Amigos de Santiago and other pilgrims join with the parish in this celebration.<\/p>\n

Although the rain clouds were gathering, I had rested. \u00a0More importantly, for the second time that morning I had found myself absorbed in community. \u00a0Maybe I had been missing this a lot. \u00a0I walk alone and had been going for six weeks. \u00a0When I once more set off on the Camino I knew I had received a great boost. \u00a0Again I was full of gratitude and wonder. \u00a0Seemingly out of nothing, I had walked into two very different places where I had been welcomed as\u00a0I\u00a0<\/em>were a gift to\u00a0their<\/em> community when, for me, it was the other way round. \u00a0This, for me, is the stuff of miracles.<\/p>\n

The road to Pereje<\/strong><\/h2>\n
\"Villafranca<\/a>

Villafranca de Bierzo<\/p><\/div>\n

The rain held off and the sun came out as I reached Villafranca. \u00a0I had stayed there in 2010 but the hostel had been full and very cramped. \u00a0I did not fancy another night with noisy Italians so I decided to carry on to the next village even though my aches were returning to haunt my legs and shoulders. \u00a0I guessed that with a plentiful choice of albergues on this part of the camino there would be a bed left in Pereje. \u00a0It was only 5 km further on.<\/p>\n

This 5 kms, in the end, demanded a great physical effort. \u00a0The miracles which had lifted my spirits and masked my fatigue could no longer disguise the reality that I was in poor shape. Moreover, I had listened out for the weather forecast against all my good intentions not to plan too much. \u00a0The following day would see me faced with the longest climb on the Camino Franc\u00e9s in Spain to O Cebreiro and the weather didn’t look promising. \u00a0I was apprehensive about how I would manage the ascent. \u00a0When I saw an advert in a bar in Villafranca for a physiotherapist en route the next day I headed for a cashpoint and withdrew enough to pay for some emergency treatment. \u00a0That, I hoped, would save me and loosen me up enough for the climb.<\/p>\n

\"Puerta<\/a>

Puerta del Perd\u00f3n, Villafranca<\/p><\/div>\n

I mused about the firmly closed Church doors I had passed at the entry to Villafranca de Bierzo. \u00a0These had been locked tight on the night of December 31st 2010, at the end of the last Jacobean Year and will not now be opened until the next one in 2020. \u00a0I will be 71 then if I get that far. \u00a0This is the gate of Pardon. In the early days of the Camino pilgrims who were too unwell to continue could gain the complete indulgence (forgiveness of all their sins) by passing through this gate rather than having to last out to Santiago, sparing them the perils of passing over the mountains into Galicia. \u00a0Maybe in a past life I had used those gates. The idea of finishing just right then was attractive. My spirit was groaning as I dragged myself into Pereje.<\/p>\n

\"Entrance<\/a>

Entrance into Pereje.<\/p><\/div>\n

I arrived at the albergue exhausted but in sunshine. \u00a0It seemed to me miraculous that I had managed at all to keep going and believe I might well have given up the pilgrimage had it not been for Ir\u00e8n\u00e9 and the parish of Camponaraya. \u00a0When I entered the albergue I felt feverish and empty. \u00a0The hospitalero showed me to a dormitory in this exceptionally beautiful hostel. \u00a0The beds, which are not bunk beds, were nearly all taken. \u00a0All I needed to do was lie down. \u00a0The hospitalero was about to indicate one to me when he paused and then said, “I wonder if you would not prefer to sleep downstairs. \u00a0Gentlemen of your age often need to use the toilets at night and you would be closer to them in the basement.” \u00a0Yes, indeed, I said. \u00a0I nearly wept at the thoughtfulness which touched me deeply much more than having the conveniences convenient did.<\/p>\n

The real miracle.<\/strong><\/h2>\n

The skies clouded over and rain poured down as I sank down on the bed in my quiet dormitory, relieved to lie down. \u00a0It had taken me all my strength to thank my host for his kindness. \u00a0Three times that day I had felt taken care of as a child in need of protection. \u00a0I had needed some mothering and miraculously, I felt, it had been given to me.<\/p>\n

As I write today when the Phillipines have been devastated by a storm and people have no water or food, thinking of the war in Syria violently destroying families and all of suffering humanity this tale of my “miracles” on that day makes no sense at all. \u00a0So I bundle it all together in a faith strengthened by small, seemingly very small and unimportant graces like I write of here. \u00a0I join my faith with the Faith of the suffering people in all parts of the world and know that I and they are one in a Body which knows suffering. We collaborate to meet each others needs.\u00a0When I visited Ir\u00e8n\u00e9’s caf\u00e9, who was helping whom; or in my visit to the parish in Camponaraya, who was helping whom; or who of the pilgrim and the hospitalero; or the aid worker and the victims of the storm?<\/p>\n

Maybe it just doesn’t matter, but what does matter is that we have been brought together and new connections of love are woven in the world through need and suffering. \u00a0That this can be so is the real miracle.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Miracles. \u00a0Two Days on the Camino Franc\u00e9s: \u00a0Ponferrada – Hospital da Condesa (1) \u00a0Day 1. Ponferrrada – Pereje Some days a rucksack is much heavier than the day before, even though it is carrying less; and some days legs which … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,3,8],"tags":[1784,1336,91,32,52,1341,1337,15,1307],"class_list":["post-3796","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-camino-frances","category-pilgrimage-and-prayer","category-the-camino-de-santiago","tag-alan-kempster","tag-bar-la-parada","tag-camino-franc","tag-caminofrances","tag-miracles","tag-ponferrrada-pereje","tag-san-isodoro-labrador","tag-spain","tag-vital-spark"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3796","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3796"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3796\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3796"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3796"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3796"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}