The Madwoman of Carantoña, or how Camelia's Babies Found Homes...

Where to start?

When I left Marbella, I had to find a home for Ruby, my lop-eared rabbit, with whom I had frequently learned humility (rabbits are the most misunderstood animals in the world)and frequently cursed for over four years, especially after the last of my ADSL cables got chewed in half!

But I missed her.

In addition to the donkey next door at A Caso do Raposito in Carantona, there appeared some hens and five rabbits. Then four rabbits, then three ... well you get the idea. Rabbit is a delicacy here in Galicia.

Finally we were down to one white rabbit with skew-wop ears and pink eyes who had become my special friend. I went away to Malaga.I said to my daughter: “If she is still there when I get back I am going to ask Alberto if I can buy her and maybe keep her where she is, with the hens.”

Well, guess what? I approached Alberto: “Don’t laugh,” I said (he did; totally cracked up), “but I would like to buy this rabbit, as a pet.” When he had straightened up, he said: “Ay mujer. Es un regalo!” (She’s a gift.) Camelia – for her pink eyes: the flor de Galicia - became mine.

All well and good until three days later she began to tear out chunks of fur: “She is making a nest,” said Alberto: “I think she is pregnant”.

Sure enough, on St.Paddy’s Day there is not one rabbit there are .... many squirmy little things under the fur and hay nest.

When I approached Alberto with certain concerns, he shrugged his shoulders: “They’re yours now,” he said.

What can I say? Like a proud Grandmommarabbit , I waited for them to look less like foetuses and more like rabbits (mice actually); I couldn’t wait for them to open their eyes! And when “Harris”, my favourite, (a little brown and white guy with great markings and an adventurous spirit – I like that in a rabbit) was the first to put his head out of the nesting box – you can imagine how my heart beat with pride.

In the last week, they have become a bit a nuisance to Camelia who clearly is a Feminist rabbit. They have started to eat “grelos” (Galician cabbages, which is a good thing because here we grow little else) and my nightly carrots and apple are a big hit. So, Mama is no longer necessary and waiting for a reprieve.

“I think it is time for them to have new homes,” I said to Balbina, Alberto’s mom, yesterday.

Now, first I have to explain: as far as Alberto was concerned they were no concern of his. But, Balbina is a Gallego widow. She dresses in Black. And (forgive me but I must) she knows the value of a buck.

I should have seen it coming: “The mother is yours, of course,” she said, “but the babies are mine. Soon we will take them from her and fatten them up with corn.”

“To eat?” I said. It was probably rhetorical. It was certainly pre-hysterical.

“Si!” said Balbina, rubbing her substantial tummy. “Y muy ricos!”They were going to take my babies and ......ay que no puede ser...!“

I want to buy them,” I said trying to keep the tears from my eyes. OK, so it was a bit impulsive.

“Pues...” said Balbina suddenly turning into Shylock: “they are worth 6 euros a kilo when they are grown.”

A kilo ... oh my! Pass me the smelling salts!

“I’ll give you 10 euros each,” I said. “Eighty euros for all of them.” Meanwhile my other self was saying: “Are you MAD!!!?”

“I’ll have to talk to Alberto,” was the reply and sure enough, a half an hour later I had legal ownership of all eight of the rabbits I had formerly worried about finding homes for!

Today, I took the whole rabbit kit and caboodle to Santiago de Compostela. They stayed in the car park while I went to mass, but then I skrewed up my courage and retrieved them. “Where shall we go?” I asked them.

By that time, the cathedral steps were almost empty. I walked for a time realising that people were attracted to the sign but that no-body had` tried to wrest the cat carrier full of conejitos from my grasp. I chose a space where the two main streets divide in the old town. I sat....

For two minutes! I attracted a crowd. “Ayyyy! Que bonitos son...” and she took Harris, my favourite; the only male and the only one I had named.

WELL! If I could only do a book signing with this success. At one time there were two women arguing over which white ones to take. “Ayyyyyy. Que preciosa!,” she looked at her husband/partner. “Podemos...?”“Si te quieres.....”Finally, there was one white one left. The rest had `gone in under 30 minutes complete with my favourite shoes’ boxes (my beautiful and expensive Georges Reichs are now desnudo in the closet). One lovely gay waiter finally gave in: “I had to wait for my break,” he said. “Ayyyyyyy, que preciosa!” He gave me my only donation: Five euros .(I didn’t really press the point).

40 minutes, no mas!!! I had made the reverse of an investment by 5 euros. And I could not have been happier if I tried!!! Eight baby rabbits with homes; eight people really happy with their new pets. If there was money in this I might throw over the writing game and...

People were SO grateful when I wanted to be so grateful to them, for restoring my faith in humanity and reminding me that not EVERYONE licks their lips when they see rabbits. The horror on their faces when I pointed out the part on the sign which said: “No somos para comer” (we are not for eating) reminded me that some creatures – maybe just the cute ones, I don’t know – are just untouchable when it comes to butchering and eating.

What a great way to spend Easter Sunday!

But Camelia’s sex life is OVER!!!

There is now a pig next door... I have given him a name too. It is “Roast”.

Nunca Mais!!! Galego por: Never Again!

Generosity and Gratitude Part 2...

Pilgrims walking the Camino de Santiago often experience unexpected acts of kindness along the way. A hand profers an apple, a barra de pan, a cupful of water, a place to sit in the shade or out of a torrential downpour. Often these gestures are accompanied by "Un abrazo por el Apostol": A hug for the saint. On occasion something fortuitous happens, seemingly for no reason. Synchronicity? Who knows?

St. James.

But these things are not limited to while one is actually walking the Camino. Pilgrims seem to trail some sort of air of, dare I say, sanctity? Joy. Pilgrims cut the path that many others would love to follow but do not, or cannot. They take wishes, prayers, blessings with them, often unknowingly.

Just this past trip, these four things happened:

1/ I was admiring a game about Galicia in the 26th of July cafe in Santiago(opposite the new Police Staion - great breakfasts). I asked where I could buy one and the response was disappointing. It seemed it had been the result of a promotion by a local radio station some years ago. "But you can have it if you really like it," Noria said.

2/ My hosts at the Hostal Alameda (rua San Clemente - really recommended and very central) looked after my other luggage when I went to Muxia. Upon my return, Rosa gave me a beautiful book of old photos of Compostela. "It is Antonio´s favourite," she said. "He wants you to have it." Inside where these words:

Que esta visión al pasado sea una inspiracion para tu futuro

I doubt I need to translate but it means:
That this vision of the past will be an inspiration for your future.

It was signed by Antonio, Rosa, and Lia their granddaughter whom I have watched grow up year by year.

3/ Seeing my interest in having a go at reading Rosalio del Castro's poems in Galego, the bookseller at the stall by the park gave me a little book about colours for children in Galego. "For your grandaughter," she said.

4/ My car's electrics were playing up most of the time. In Muxia it seemed to get worse. I asked the lady cleaning my room for a local garage. I figured it was something small like a fuse (it was) "Nothing in Muxia," she said, "but if it won't start tomorrow, you can take my car and go to the next town". I had met her just 5 minutes earlier!!!

And then there is Portugal. Five times in the past years I have found myself looking for something I can't find, and five times someone has either walked with me or jumped in the car or their motorcycle and said "Follow me!"Whenever I am in north Portugal I stay at the house of Fernanda Gomez Rodriguez and her husband Jacinto and their daughter Mariana. Fernanda treats every pilgrim who comes up her steps, weary and thirsty, as though they are the prodigal son, or daughter. Such love and kindness I have never ever seen elsewhere, though there are some which come very close along the Way.

Today in the mail I got a packet. I did not recognise the address. Three weeks ago I was presenting my books Pilgrimage to Heresy and the new book St. James' Rooster (Peregrinos de la Herejia y El Gallo de Santiago) at the II Encuentro Mundial de Peregrinos in Villafranca del Bierzo. I got talking with Jacob from Barcelona, or near it. "The Holy Grail was in Montserrat," he told me. I said that I thought this was actually a later Catholic myth designed to cover up that it might have been in Montsegur. He was insistent. I demurred, and then said how I had been looking at every flea market and yard sale for years for a figure of the Black Virgin of Montserrat. "I'll send one to you," he said.

Well, I had truly forgotten about this til she stepped out of her wrappers in all her Black is Beautifulness. She is in front of me as I write. That search, at least, is over.

Thank you, Jacob. So much.

I wonder about these phenomena. Do we radiate something angelic while on or close to the Camino which makes others WANT to help us? Draws them to our innocence? Are we in some sort of state of grace that others can feel our weariness and our joy?

I don't know. But I sure do like it!

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Love at Sixth Sight...

There are no longer any horses at Cabo Touriñan, the man with the twin dogs told me this morning. He spoke in a toothless Gallego but I knew what he said somehow. Someone got too close and was kicked and denounced the owner to the police (at least I think that's what he said, but it could have been because the horses were hobbled: something about the legs or ankles anyway); so one thing I had hoped to find again is no more. There is nothing at Cabo Touriñan now except the smell of the soft turf and the salt and the wind on your skin. Nothing except the lighthouse, and the sapphire waves below. Not even gulls.

As for me, I am in love. With Galicia. Deeply, blissfully, joyously, perhaps hopelessly in love. This should come as no surprise either to me or anybody who knows me as every time I have been here (five, six. I don't remember now) I have furthered our relationship. I love the countryside, the fields of corn and pimientos, the woods, the barren wild lands; I love the sea, the long spread of white sandy beaches and the vertiginous heights of the lighthouses on the Costa Da Morte. I love the food, the wine. I love the wild flowing rivers and the slow sedatious ones closing to the sea. I love the music and the dancers in their native costumes so far removed from the idea of "Spain" that most of us have with its flamenco and castanets. None of that here. I love the granite; I love the rich loam which would grow anything and the blue clad ladies who tend their grelos and potatoes. I love the language, Gallego, which each time sounds more familiar. Sometimes I understand it even better than I do "Andalus". I love the people and the fact that when driving you never have Mr. Big with his BMW up your tailpipe, flashing his lights and beeping his horn. People actually stop to let you pass, and if you do this for others, they wave to thank you!

This is unheard of in Malaga, believe me!

This morning I walked the 10 stepping stones across the Rio Castro without slipping or falling in or dropping my camera, though the last part was iffy. I was like the Little Fox in the 64th hexagram of the I Ching: determined to keep my tail above water (so to speak). This year there is a bridge and you no longer have to use the stones. Of course, pilgrims being the purists they are, continue to use the stones although I have been told that in winter this is almost impossible. This makes me wonder what this last part of the Camino - from Finisterre to Muxía or vice versa - would be like to walk in December or January. Even today while trying to follow it as much as I could in the car, I saw no-one.

Yesterday I visited a shrine to Maria Magdalena. Her feast day was last week and it was garlanded with white scarves and flowers and candles. There was no statue only an ancient and probably pagan spring now covered over with a granite roof and gathering in a moss lined pool. I had brought a stone (two actually) from the Cruz de Hierro in the Maragateria near Leon. I wrote two words on it in red marker: one in English and the other in Spanish. The same word. La Magdalena will know what to do with them. The other stone contained more words. I left it on a pilgrim marker by the stepping stones.

Tomorrow I will watch the marisqueros bring the Virgin de la Barxa out of the sea. Perhaps I will send her a reminder too.

All my wishes are now out there for the Universe to consider. Perhaps I am being selfish: but you see, I want it ALL.

More soon, and a photo of the horses at Cabo Touriñan which are no longer...
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Please Mister, can we have our Codex back...?

Like the Historia Compostelana, the Codex Calixtinus was written at the behest of Archbishop Diego Gelmirez of Compostela. By this time the archbishop was aging but he lived long enough to see the completion of the work which was composed between 1135 and 1139. It is believed that the main writer was the French ecclesiastic Aymeric Picard who may have been connected with the abbey of Cluny, although it is likely that a work of this size had many authors. As I have mentioned here often in this blog, Cluny at that time was by far the most powerful order and was establishing many churches in the north of Spain. Gelmirez had close ties with the Cluniacs (who produced more than one pope at the time). Perhaps in order to lend special credibilty to the book, the authors prefaced the Codex (also known as the Liber Sancto Jacobi – The Book of St. James) with a “letter” supposedly signed by Pope Calixtinus (himself a Cluniac). The letter of Pope Callixtus II which opens the book. The author, who claims to be Callixtus II, tells how he collected many testimonies on the good deeds of Saint James, "traversing the cruel grounds and provinces for fourteen years". He also describes how the manuscript survived many hazards from fire to drowning. The letter is addressed "to the very holy assembly of the basilica of Cluny" and to "Diego, archbishop of Compostela".

The problem is that Calixtinus died in 1124 and most scholars today maintain that this letter is spurious. (Like the rest of the St. James' story, ed.) Accuracy never really bothered our friend Diego Gelmirez.

The book itself comprises five parts: the first in Book I is the largest by far and contains sermons and homilies concerning St. James and describes his martydom. Book II contains stories – often from pilgrims – abut miracles attributed to the intervention of St. James.

The third book contains the life of Saint James and the supposed miracle of the discovery of his tomb. It is the shortest but perhaps in many ways the most important as it was this part which launched the phenomenon of pilgrimage in the 12th century. In order to bring wealth a prestige to his city, Diego Gelmirez knew that pilgrims were essential and in his 40 years as first bishop and then archbishop he devoted his life to increasing the wealth and prestige of Compostela.Book III tells of the death and martyrdom of St. James and how his body was transferred “by stone boat, rudderless and without sails” to Galicia and subsequently to the burial place discovered in the early ninth century. It also tells of the custom started by the first pilgrims of gathering souvenir sea shells from the Galician coast. The scallop shell is the symbol of the Santiago pilgrimage even today although many pilgrims acquire their shells before starting out whereas in the Middle Ages at first it was proof that the pilgrimage had been made. Later enterprising shell sellers realised that these shells could be used to hold morsels of food and to scoop water from rivers and streams.

Book IV tells the History of Charlemagne and Roland. It is attributed to Archbishop Turpín of Reims, although in fact it is the work of an anonymous writer of the 12th century. It describes the coming of Charlemagne to Spain, his defeat against the Moors at the Battle of Roncevaux Pass and the death of the knight Roland. It relates how Saint James then appeared in a dream to Charlemagne, urging him to liberate his tomb from the Moors and showing him the direction to follow by the route of the Milky Way. This association has given the Milky Way an alternate name in Spain of Camino de Santiago.

In fact it was far more likely that the attack against Charlemagne’s army came from the Basques. The story, however, did a lot to promote the idea of holy intervention on the part of “Santiago Matamoros” at a time when, as the Moors called upon the Prophet Mohammed when going into battle, the French (and Spanish) forces had no such protector.

In point of fact it was all very convenient.

The story of Pilgrimage to Heresy claims that St. James is NOT buried in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. In fact it is unlikely that he ever preached in Spain or if he did he made nine converts at the very most. I have told this story in some detail if you care to go back a year or so. It is far more likely that the occupant of the tomb, still venerated by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims each year, is a “heretic”, Priscillian Bishop of Avila, executed in Trier with six of his followers (one a woman) by the Roman secular court with the condonement of the Roman Church in 385 or 386 A.D. His body was brought back to Galicia by his disciples and buried there in an unknown place. As Compostela was already established as a Roman cemetery (hence the name) it is likely that this is where they brought him. Around the tomb many late 4th century graves have been found all oriented to the East as was the custom of the Priscillianists. The Vatican of course, resists carbon dating of the body.

St. James’ Rooster, which is due for publication later this year (also in Spanish as El Gallo de Santiago) tells the story of Bishop Gelmirez and his quest for fame and glory for his cathedral of Compostela.

The stolen Codex Calixtinus is priceless and irreplaceable. It is the earliest copy (not the original which has been lost) dating to perhaps 1150. A copy of the Santiago edition was made in 1173 by the monk Arnaldo de Monte and is known as The Ripoll (after the monastery of Santa Maria de Ripoll in Catalonia). It is now kept in Barcelona. The book was well-received by the Church of Rome, and copies of it were to be found from Rome to Jerusalem. This widely publicized and multi-copied book describing the legend of Santiago Matamoros or 'St. James the Moorslayer' is considered by scholars to be an early example of propaganda by the Catholic Church.

The idea that it is to become pride of place in some wealthy collector’s mansion makes me very, very angry indeed. We can only hope that it will be found and the perpetrators locked up in some medieval gaol for life!

In some things I am not merciful!!!

Off to the Camino next week and the week after. I’ll keep you all posted.
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Codex Calixtinus: Crime Scene Investigation

Rebekah Scott said: “I told them not to take it on the bus but would they listen? Noooo.”

After two days, I still can’t believe that the Codex Calixtinus has been stolen from the Archives of Santiago Cathedral. It’s a Dan Brown novel (or a Tracy Saunders one: what AM I thinking!!!).

I am a hypnotherapist, not a psychic, but I do have "antennae" sometimes. If I were investigating this very real “unholy theft” I would aim my questions in these directions:

Whoever stole the book must have know that the security was lax (as is stated almost everywhere in the press). They must also, presumably, have known something about the video camera in surveillance and its times of monitoring the Codex. According to El Pais, it seems one minute it was there and the next it wasn’t. The camera timing and angles appear to be quite strict, but, so says El Pais, the access to the keys is “bastante laxo”: Somewhat relaxed. The keys were found in the lock after the manuscript had been stolen! This seems to be in contrast with other reports I have read which state that only two or three people have access to the treasure. What I have seen of the Archives, it seems very small. I don't know whether the Codex was housed somewhere else or ...?

But, you have to admit, this would point to something of an “in job”, or with the keys still there, someone who wanted to flip the bird...

I would find this almost amusing if it were not for the very serious loss. In St. James’ Rooster, the new book in The Camino Chronicles series which is to be published later this year, I have one of my characters working in the Cathedral archives leaking out certain information he is not supposed to have access to to a university professor on sabattical because he thinks it might get him a better grade in his university degree. I have penetrated the Archives myself in a very modest way. The first time a notable and published scholar who agreed to meet with me was very cagey indeed about my questions of the “pink marble tomb” in the Cathedral which appears on no maps, in no literature, and is virtually hidden in the very east end of the cathedral. But the second time I went I spoke with someone else who was very helpful in most ways (although even he claimed not to have noticed the aforementioned: rather obvious if one is of a inquisitive bent, marble … thing). You can enter the cloisters easily from the Cathedral Museum. You locate the Archives, and push a button at the bottom of the stairs. They let you in, y ya está.

So back to my investigation. CSI: Who would want such a thing? Only a private collector and you can be certain that this was executed on his or her instructions. What kind of private collector? Well, anyone interested on old manuscripts comes to mind for a start. But that just doesn’t ring true enough. Dollar to doughnuts, this collector is a Pilgrim. Yes, I am serious. The Camino de Santiago homogenizes everyone. Why not a millionaire pilgrim? It wouldn’t be for the first time. This is about possession, not money or fame. It would also indicate, to me, that the person who wanted it fell hook, line and sinker for the entire St. James story portrayed so nicely (and falsely ) in this extensive manuscript. Would I look in the direction of the US? Yes, I am sorry to say, I would. Over 40% of visitors to this blog come from North America. But the Camino has a hold over everyone who travels it. I don’t know why. I just know I am one of them.

Would I like my own personal, signed by Diego Gelmirez, first edition copy of the Historia Compostelana?

No, actually. It would worry me to death. And it, like the CC, is to be shared (the oldest known copy is at the University of Salamanca. Tighten your security you guys… One might not be enough!). The idea of such a thing as the Codex becoming part of some Goldfinger’s prized collection makes my blood boil!!!
So, Policia Xunta Galicia, my advice is to check your pilgrim records. Impossible? Probably. What a shame. But I have great faith in forensics these days so maybe.

P.S. I just thought of something: I believe that a cross given to Santiago from Oviedo was stolen many., many years ago. Maybe there is a connection. Either way, I am dying to write the book!

P.P.S. It wasn’t me, officer. I have a nice blue, not even marked up with comments, copy of my own. I wouldn't be able to write notes in the margin of the original so you can cross me off your Usual Suspects list.

More on the CC and its history in the next post then its off to the Camino with me and who knows what adventures may arise….

Beer, ploughs, and other matters of Celto-Iberian male interest...

And so, back to Spain.

What would life have been like for the Celt-Iberians?

One major advantage that the Celts brought with them was that they brought their plough. Although it was of little use on the highlands, it was immeasurably welcomed in the pastoral areas. It was women who planted seed and hoed the cereals for bread and beer (Cerveza - Cervexa in Gallego - is a Celtic word, by the way; Beer is Saxon). There seems to be little dissention in the association of males and ploughs and so to some degree men began to be involved in planting, which re-affirms the also universal fascination of men for tools and gadgets! Up to this point, men had considered farming unmanly and women's work. Now, they couldn't wait to get out into the fields to try out their new toys and no doubt congregated in Celt-Iberian taverns to down a brew or two afterwards and discuss the relative size and efficiency of their ploughs...

And their women folk likely breathed a sigh of relief and went back to raising children and small animals.

In the central area around the present cities of Zamora, Valladolid and Palencia, large quantities of wheat were harvested especially by the Vacceos, a group living close to the Douro valley; these people came late into the peninsula and may have brought more sophisticated farming methods with them. As their name suggests, they were also raisers of cattle. These people were likely also Celts from Europe, perhaps originating in the Alsace-Lorraine region. They organised into a collective society, and this made them unusual. The grain harvest was officially controlled - division was made equally and the death penalty was enacted for holding out any of the grain from the collective pool.

In the northern mountains, there was more a combination of herding, farming, and hunting and gathering, without any particular accent upon one or the other. This remains very much the system even today in Galicia. Strabo, writing about them was surprised that they lacked olive oil (which the Etruscans and Greeks introduced to the south and east much later). In its place he said they used butter, although it was much more likely lard. The words manteca for pig fat and mantequilla for butter predate Latin and as you see are very similar in sound and derivation. In either case, there was notable dependence upon animal fat and in fact still is. Olive oil is more a part of the Mediterranean diet.

To this day, the north west of the Meseta, the area known as Extramadura abounds in oak trees, as does much of central Portugal and north into the area around Leon. Gathering appears to have had much importance and Strabo also mentioned that the northern people gathered great quantities of acorns, both as food for themselves and for their livestock. He neglected to mention the chestnut. There are still woods of sweet chestnut trees in this area, and the vast forests which preceded them have disappeared only in the last few generations. In the 19th century they still flourished.

Although the Iberians knew iron, and in fact the northwest abounds in this mineral, they did not seem to have known how to use it. It was the Celts who taught them how to make tools and utensils from iron. Open-cast mining would have been in evidence, and by the time the Romans came in the 2nd century BCE, the abundance of iron in the northwest would have made this a desireable area to settle and work. And they did.

Despite, Asterix the Gaul, the Celts had met their match.
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II ENCUENTRO MUNDIAL de PEREGRINOS. VILLAFRANCA del BIERZO 2011

II WORLD-WIDE PILGRIMS CONFERENCE, VILLAFRANCA del BIERZO, July 22nd to 24th, 2011, Spain. From Valencia in 2010 to Santiago in 2021, the next Holy Year. This is the stated aim of the "Siete Botas de Leguas".

Announcing the second conference after the very successful one in Valencia last year. This year the venue is much closer to Santiago: Villafranca del Bierzo in the beautiful wine producing part of Leon. This year I am particularly looking forward to supporting this much anticipated event because I am speaking at it about Pilgrimage to Heresy, Priscillian, and Archbishop Diego Gelmirez.

The doors of the Theater of Villafranca will open at 5:00 on Friday July 22nd and until they close again on Sunday 24th you will be in for a pilgrim treat.

Marialaya Burgos, presents the II World-wide Encounter of Pilgrims to Villafranca del Bierzo 2011 and thanks the mayor for welcoming us.
Roger de la Cruz, Vice President of the AACSdB will speak.
Following are Tomas, the last Templar hospitalero of Manjarin.
Jesus Jato, hospitalero in Villafranca.
Alfredo, hospitalero in Molinaseca.
Lydia B. Smith, director of The Camino Documentary Way,
Jose Almeida, will present his book, "Sentimientos Peregrinos"
Teresa Simal, presents her book “Mochila y Bordón”
And yours truly, Tracy Saunders will speak about my new book St. James' Rooster/El Gallo de Santiago, the second book in The Camino Chronicles after Pilgrimage to Heresy/Peregrinos de la Herejía. Maybe I might be also talking about The Dove and the Yellow Cross which is my working title for the next book.

There will be a superb exhibition and film on "The Promotion of the Way of Santiago from the Holy Year of 1965” from Fernando Lalanda Pijoan who has rescued this material from oblivion.

Noelia Velasco, presents her photographic exhibition “Camino”.

The new Facebook page of Encuentro, very animated by the way, picks up the writings of Marialaya telling the news about the Organization and its Friends who contribute to the News Feed.

Thee will be a "Mini Camino": from Cacabelos to Villafranca (so bring your hiking boots!), Tapas, Meals, Dinners and Breakfasts, Water, Bread and the excellent Wine of del Bierzo; and Conferences, Exhibitions, Cinema, Books, Colloquies and Debates, Conversations and Cameraderie. Marialaya is busy making reservations right now but accomodation is sure to be limited so make sure you book early.

I for one am thoroughly looking forward to it: the Church of Santiago in Villafranca holds very special memories for me (and if you want to know what they are, read Miranda's account in Pilgrimage to Heresy!)

Looking forward to seeing many of my pilgrim friends and readers there...

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/ENCUENTRO-MUNDIAL-DE-PEREGRINOS/169224246468324

Con tiempo para la siesta incluido, a las 17:00 abriremos las puertas del Teatro de Villafranca donde podremos disfrutar de una estupenda tarde presentando este II Encuentro, Conferencias y posterior charla-coloquio:

- Marialaya Burgos, presenta el II Encuentro Mundial de Peregrinos Villafranca del Bierzo 2011
- Saluda del Alcalde.
- Bienvenida de Roger de la CruzVicepresidente AACSdB.
- Tomas, hospitalero en Manjarin.
- Jesús Jato, hospitalero en Villafranca.
- Alfredo, hospitalero en Molinaseca.
- The Camino Documentary, Directora Lydia B. Smith.
- José Almeida, presentará su libro «Sentimientos Peregrinos».
- Teresa Simal, presenta su libro “Mochila y Bordón”.
- Tracy Saunders nos hablará de su nuevo libro "El Gallo de Santiago", el segundo en «Las Crónicas del Camino».
Magnifica exposición y película sobre “La Promoción del Camino de Santiago para el año Santo de 1965” que propone un bonito recorrido por este material histórico rescatado del olvido por Fernando Lalanda Pijoan.
- Noelia Velasco, con su exposición fotográfica «Camino»
El nuevo Facebook del Encuentro, muy animado por cierto, recoge los escritos de Marialaya narrando los acontecimnientos de la Organización y a los usuarios que día a día se comunican y organizan.

Mini Camino, Degustaciones, Comidas, Cenas y Desayunos, Agua... Pan y Vino, excelente Vino del Bierzo. Conferencias, exposiciones, Cine, Libros, Coloquios y Debates, Conversaciones y Hermandad.

Esperando a reuniar con muchos de mis amigos peregrinos y lectores...

El Gallo de Santiago...

It's done!

Done, done DONE!

Three years of research and a little over one year of writing and St. James' Rooster is finally FINISHED!

I still have to proof-read it and do some final editing but to all intents and purposes that's another waystage in my life accomplished. Believe me there have been many times when I didn't think I would be writing these words.

It's a funny thing, writing a novel. One gives birth to a family and in some cases sees them grow up, fall in and out of love, learn about life, enjoy their golden years and finally pass on. But as with all your loved ones, they never pass out of your life. My main characters - both the fictional and the non-fictional ones - have become as real to me as my family, friends, students. When I had to break the heart of my favourite character, I cried, and when I had to say goodbye at the end of his life, I missed him so much for days that I couldn't write at all.

But that's in the past now.

I am going to take a bit of time off to update The Indalo Quest, my non-fiction book about mid-life changes, travel and the bond between father and daughter and mother and daughter. It is the type of book which will appeal to fans of books like Eat, Pray, Love and is due for re-printing after 15 years of retirement. It is also my tribute to my mother whom I nursed in her last weeks and whom I began to know only then. Every day I grow more like her. Readers of Pilgrimage to Heresy will recognise a bit of Miranda and Alex in the woman that was me just as I left Costa Rica and came to settle in Spain. It should become available in the late summer and perhaps before that on Kindle if I manage to get a roundtoit. They have been in short supply around here lately. Must be the Recession.

And then what? Well, I have already begun to research the next book in the Camino Chronicles Series. This third one will follow one of the characters from St. James' Rooster to the Languedoc area of southern France... Cathar country.

And that's all I am saying for now.

The story continues...Priscillian's book moves inexorably towards the present day.

The Camino: Lessons for Life...?

I mentioned this a few days ago in a post about The Universe. Several people have asked me to repeat it so here it is. Every day I find its lessons more and more relevant to how I want to see life, and perhaps to how I want to be seen.

Here is the original post from August 2009 post Camino Portuguese:

Insights and a Serious Attempt at Introspection...

What have I truly learned from this Camino?

I have learned, once again, that the Camino is a microcosm of the world that could be. Those who have walked it, (or within whatever transport they took it) already know this. Those who have yet to experience it, will, in one way or another learn this: that much is guaranteed.

I have learned as the I Ching counsels “not to put too much trust into those with whom we have recently become acquainted”: sad but true.

I have learned that there are angels on the Camino. Usually where you least expect them (and I am still not totally convinced about angels anyway.)

I have learned to ask for what you truly need, for it will be provided.

I have learned that sometimes we are too hard on ourselves.

I have learned that the distance is not something we need to really concern ourselves with: it is about putting one foot in front of the other.

I have learned that blisters go away; in fact most annoying things go away eventually.

I have learned that you can speak Spanish in Portugal and be more or less understood, but that you may not have the slightest idea of the response believe me, it doesn’t really matter, the Portuguese are the most helpful people on earth.

I have learned that parrots have a sense of humour, pigeons don't like peanuts, and that I can raise swallows from the dead.

I have learned that sometimes I have to let myself be taken care of.

I have learned that what “the church” has told you is very much open to question.

I have learned to open myself up to others: if you can master this you may find that the ones around you can help you move further upon your journey. This, I have found, is very important.

A corollary to the above would be not to let a moment pass by: sometimes an instinct which says “Do this Now!” can lead to contacts which can help you further your quest I was to find this time and again...: There is no such thing as “luck”.

I have learned that I am quite content with my own company, especially in the rain.

I have learned that most of the times the things that annoy us are part of ourselves and anyway, they don’t count for much in the overall scheme of thing. Learn to forgive and forget. see http://www.headstartcentres.org

I have learned that whatever religious path you may have been taught we all come together in the most fundamental things.

I have learned that life is a beautiful gift: you only have to open your eyes to the “ordinary”and accept it to recognise how lucky you really are.

Perhaps most of all, I have learned that I need to wage war against “righteous indignation”: those moments when the world provides us with idiots and you know you are right. It is easily spotted: it begins with these words:...they should..., why don’t they... you would think that they... it’s not right that...But it’s counter-productive and only increases the frustration. I’m working very hard on a Live and Let Live philosophy. But it’s not always so easy.

Now 18 months later I find myself wondering what I would add to this. I was asked a couple of days ago what my "objectives" in life were. The question pulled me up short. I answered: To maintain a reasonable level of contentment.

But is that it? It's easily misconstrued. It is not that I want to lack challenges: far from it! It isn't that I want to lead a dull, uneventful, unproductive life. Heaven forbid. What I want is to see each opportunity as a challenge to take me further and further to my own core of contentment; accepting what "the Universe" provides as steps to an eventual realisation of exactly what and who I am, and by that implication, I suppose, exactly "who" and "what" God is.

I've mistakenly fought for it, and missed it by looking too hard...now I just want it to manifest itself in everything I do: the hard and the simple; the extrasensory and the very, very ordinary.

Socrates said: "The unexamined life is not worth living". Perhaps. But I would rather say that the unlived life is not worth examining.

I would rather live life ... and examine trees.
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Something to Crow About...

There is no doubt about it in my mind. Choosing a title is harder than writing the book. I have always had a title for Book Two of The Camino Chronicles, but I never thought of it as a working title. Compostela was the title I had chosen and that was that.

More recently, though, I have learned something of the skill of SEO: that's Search Engine Optimisation to you. I have also learned a thing or two about spiders: Google spiders. It seems they are very choosy and will only pick up words that are linked back. One or two people liked the name Compostela, but said that it might easily be confused with a non-fiction title while others said that it would never end up on the first page of any search about pilgrimage books. And I had to agree they were right.

But now what? Because the story has not one but two timelines (as does Pilgrimage to Heresy) it made it much harder to pick something snappy that would be appropriate to both. I needed something to grab peoples' attention.

Then the other day I was reading one of my many reference books and I found just the very thing. In a novel by Gallego Ramon Otero Pedrayo, one of his characters refers to Bishop Diego Gelmirez as El Gallo de Santiago. Now everything I know about Diego Gelmirez (and after three years of research I know a lot) tells me that was a man who - as my mother would have put it - wasn't backwards in coming forwards. Almost single handedly, Diego put the Santiago into Compostela. He was tireless (and ruthless) in making Compostela one of the three most important sites of Christian pilgrimage in the world. He was, most truly, cock of the walk: The Rooster of St. James.

So it's official. And you read it here first!