Back Home in Houston.... Again.....

I arrived back home in Houston late on September 10. Since then I’ve made fairly productive use of my time but I’m struggling at a juncture of transition. I really can’t complain about anything other than I feel myself falling back into a routine that hasn’t really gotten me where I need to go. Basically I want to meld my desire and love of travel with meaning and purpose. That, I am clear of. The hard part is figuring out how to do it and finding my direction. In order to initiate change I must make decisions otherwise I’ll remain stuck in the same old patterns. I discuss this predicament in greater detail in the post below.

The Riddle of Returning Home

Going home after a long journey is always a bit of a riddle for me. Generally, while traveling abroad, I ride a constant high of sorts and thrive off the excitement of the unknown. It’s easy to live in the moment and I’m always certain the experience will catapult me towards a new exciting direction when I return. However, once back, I almost always revert into an old familiar routine which doesn’t really feed my soul. I contemplate questions like, “What’s my true purpose”, “Why aren’t I using my creative talents”, and “What’s the next plan”. I’ll stagnate in a quandary, save up my nickles and dimes, then run off for another fix. Travel is my drug of choice. This is a riddle I’ve wrestled with for years.

Often an extended adventure, especially one involving a third world country, leaves the adventurous western traveler undeniably changed. Sometimes it’s subtle. Other times it can be quite profound if not life changing. Ironically, the return home can be more of an adjustment than the initial arrival at a dodgy foreign airport in the middle of the night. Usually home hasn’t changed much but through the eyes of a travelers experience it may appear oddly different. For the most part friends and acquaintances are generally the same and consumed by work and busyness. Aside of a recent long weekend, job promotion, or last months Bon Jovi concert there’s not always a lot to talk about in relation to where the traveler has been.

Home can be like white bread and head lettuce compared to the curries of India and robust cheeses of France. Difficult communication in a country where few speak English suddenly seems far more interesting than comprehending empty words spoken over alcohol induced rants during happy hour at a local bar.

At first home can be kind of refreshing. A familiar bed, shower, and mindless tv create a wonderful cushy environment. In no time, the traveler, weary from the road, falls back into a predictable monotone pattern of a comfortable yet deceptively stifling routine. The creative spark, fresh ideas, and endless amount of energy, abundant on the road, fade into a lethargic someday I’ll get around to it attitude. With money thin and inspiration dissolving like water spilled on hot pavement the traveler ponders a remedy, the next breakaway, another journey. Optimism tainted with delusion fuels the hope that a solution to life's mysteries is just around the next bend of a hairpin turn on some steep mountain road somewhere, somehow. A chance meeting, an idyllic location, the love of ones life. It’s all out there, just around the next turn. Hobbled by a low bank account focus and energy shift towards acquiring the necessary fuel for freedom, the almighty dollar. After all, there are bills to pay, responsibilities to take care of, and, things you really should be doing. The creative process suffers dearly.

For the long term traveler it’s easy to stay 2 steps ahead of this, that, and just about anything that would rather be avoided. On the road everyone has a story. Some are content to sit in a cafe all day while rolling their own cigarettes and reading semi autobiographical accounts of someone elses morphious adventure. Others make the most out of every moment and experience all a foreign country and culture have to offer. Some are on a whirlwind tour before the money runs out and they're forced to stop somewhere to figure out how they’ll get the resources to pick up and and move on again.

There are those who travel with a purpose, those who travel to run away, and those who just love to travel. For the long term low budget backpacker years can dissolve like sugar poured into a hot cup of Italian cappuccino. Between buses, trains, planes and countless miles walked along unfamiliar ground it can be easy to lose oneself within the freedom afforded by such a lifestyle. The myopic constraints of the so called “Real World” can be excessively suffocating. Adhering to status quo and the rules necessary to climb the ladder become exceedingly unappealing.

For the most part I feel incredibly spoiled, grossly selfish, yet incredibly lucky that I have the luxury to wallow about pondering my purpose while traipsing across the planet. In reality the rest of the world is way too busy just trying to meet basic survival needs. Therein lies the guilt within the riddle. Shouldn't I be doing something more meaningful? But then again, I love to travel....

In A Few Days.......

In a few days I’ll be back in Texas after being gone for almost 3 months. This trip got off to a rough start with being sick in England and taking a fall in the Pyrenees but things really turned around when I visited my Aunt and Uncle in Italy. After nearly two weeks in Italy I returned to France to live next to a pond in the Loire Valley for 3 weeks as I worked for the European Yoga Festival. From there it was back to what I really love doing and that’s long distance walking. The four week journey along the ancient Pilgrimage route, Chemin St Jacques, from Le Puy to St. Jean Pied Port was wonderful and passed way too quickly.

Despite having been gone for a good while this is one time that I feel like I could easily keep going. Considering I’ve spent less money than anticipated I could afford to keep traveling as long as I adhered to a backpacker camping style and did most all of my own food. I’ve considered jumping over to Corsica to hike some amazing trails and am very tempted to do so but somehow reluctantly feel like I need to stick to my original plan and return home as scheduled. Perhaps it’s better to utilize my time and resources for other ideas, plans, etc.

What’s been very different about this trip is that it hasn’t been about doing what I want to do most all of the time like most trips are. It’s been a little more about doing what feels right despite whether or not it’s really what I had in mind. In the end the outcome has been quite good and maybe even better than had I followed my original desires. It has definitely taken me places I hadn’t really planned with positive and constructive results. I’ll be making some changes when I return. It will be interesting to see where life takes me next…..

Parting Shots From The Chemin St. Jacques

Lourdes, France - A Visit To The Grotto

I arrived in Lourdes at 2:30 yesterday afternoon (Sunday) by train. I consulted my Lonely Planet guide and chose a small campground in a non touristic part of town. It’s nothing great but peaceful, shady and convenient for walking everywhere. It’s situated behind an old hotel of sorts and run by a nice friendly older couple who live on the premises. I paid 16 Euros for two nights (approx. 20 USD).

Sunday morning I was ready to get out of St Jean Pied Port. It felt a little odd being there for some reason. The touristic atmosphere coupled with sardine style camping in a town lot surrounded by old fortress walls made an otherwise appealing village unappealing. I have wonderful memories of starting my Camino de Santiago in St Jean two years ago but the packs of new Pilgrims showing up fresh and smelling of laundry detergent made me not want to taint fond memories with new less desirable impressions. In other words, I’ve been there, done that, and didn’t feel a need to stick around. The upside is I that slept really well in the packed campground.

Lourdes is a very interesting place in a gorgeous setting situated at the base of the Pyrenees Mountains. The primary reason for the attraction to Lourdes is that a young girl experienced 18 visions of the Virgin Mary in a nearby Grotto during the year of 1858. The visions were confirmed as authentic by the Catholic Church and she was declared a Saint of sorts in 1933. Since the visions the Grotto has become a holy shrine with a spring flowing from it whose waters are believed to have miraculous healing qualities. Not only has the grotto become a shrine but the whole surrounding area is a sanctuary with cathedral and numerous other buildings. All set in a park like atmosphere.

After setting up camp I wandered over to the center of town. From there I followed signs marked “Grotto”. It wasn’t long before I found myself in the midst of tourist hell. Shop after shop of Virgin Mary paraphernalia, overpriced stores, and surely subpar eateries clog streets and walkways. The plastic Virgin Mary water bottles and the made in Italy Lourdes magnets caught my eye but I didn’t give in. Probably made by a mafia run company?

The shops were kind of interesting in a gaudy sort of way but I was more than happy to enter the confines of the sanctuary which reveal a much different atmosphere. The grounds are quite nice with no shops. Just a few stalls for candles and small water bottles with a place to deposit the suggested donation for the items. A large cathedral sits above the grotto and although lacking the mystic of other much older cathedrals it’s still quite impressive in a more modern sense.

I decided to visit the Grotto first and was lucky to find a short line. In no time I found myself entering the site. I allowed a hand to run across smooth stone walls polished by years and thousands, if not millions of visitors, as I passed through. From a natural beauty standpoint the grotto is nothing special but I will say there is definitely a strong feeling there. A vibe or energy of sorts. It's likely due to an impression left by so much attention given to the site but regardless there is something special going on.

Walking through the grotto doesn’t last long as attendants keep people moving. At the end I there are rows and rows of candle stalls with each candle being donated by visitors.

Afterwards I continued on to a wall of spigots that dispense the healing water that supposedly comes from the spring. I filled up my own liter sized container and a small glass souvenir bottle that I picked up for a 1 Euro donation. Many, many people were doing the same. All hoping that in some way they will receive a healing blessing of some sort.

The crowd of visitors is made up mostly of older people. Many arrive in wheel chairs and obviously have some serious health issues. At 44 I almost felt like a youngster. The youth of France is too busy smoking cigarettes in cafes and probably doesn’t have much interest yet. Most everyone on the grounds appeared western and or European but I was surprised to see a number of East Indians with woman dressed in traditional garb. Although the sanctuary and grotto are Catholic to the core all faiths are welcome to visit.

As I was walking amidst the Cathedral and admiring some impressive murals a crowd was forming outside. People began to sing and organize into a large parade. From a hilltop view outside the doors of the church I could see a mass of people moving. Leading the front was a large row of caregivers dressed in white followed by a large number in wheel chairs then thousands of others walking. Music and singing went on as the parade slowly moved towards exiting the grounds. At the end was a large group that appeared to be monks. I don’t know if the parade is a daily occurrence or just a Sunday happening but it was quite pleasant to watch and a substantial display of faith.

Are people really healed by visiting the Grotto? They say around 40 or so unexplained medically proven cures are a result of visiting Lourdes. The remedy varies depending on the individual. Some say it was praying there while others say it was drinking or bathing in the water. Who knows for sure? Regardless, I do believe there is a lot of power in faith and belief. That in of itself has been proven to do great and miraculous things.

I remember an old bible story where a woman was trying to get to Jesus so she could be healed. She got close enough to him so she could touch his clothing. He acknowledged her and responded by telling her to go. He then went on to say that it was her faith that healed her.

It's About The Journey

Early this afternoon I walked through old fortress gates into the Basque village of St. Jean Pied de Port thus completing my walk of the Chemin St. Jacques from Le Puy. Combined with my walk of the Camino de Santiago in 2008 I’ve know covered around 1,000 miles of medieval pilgrimage route across France and Spain to the city of Santiago de Compostella.

As with most all long distance walks, for me, the finish is bittersweet. In some regards I’m happy to be done as the goal has been reached and I’m usually a bit tired but ironically I generally don’t feel much of a hurrah celebratory sense of accomplishment or anything like that. I’m mostly just happy and grateful to have had the experience. The real joy comes out of the journey and not the destination. The destination is an end and a completion while the journey holds ones attention by regularly revealing something new. The days and miles of physical activity, breathing fresh air, and thinking about everything and nothing are what I like the most. The beautiful landscapes, mountains, and villages enhance the experience which makes it all the more special.

Tonight I’ll stay in St Jean Pied de Port but tomorrow morning I’ll hop on a train and head to Lourdes for a couple of nights. I’ve long been intrigued by the healing phenomenon and miraculous cures brought on by multiple appearances of the Virgin Mary in a grotto during the year of 1858. It seems appropriate going to Lourdes since I’m so close and have been walking along an ancient Pilgrimage route for the past month. I’ll now join the masses of a different kind of modern day Pilgrim as people today travel to Lourdes from all over the world to be healed.

In The Foothills Of The Pyrenees

Almost 4 weeks of constant walking with a backpack is finally starting to make me feel a little tired. Today I had enough sense to cut it short and stopped after walking only 20k (12.5 miles). The fact that I stumbled across an old farmhouse, turned gite, situated with a grand view amidst the Pyrenean foothills made it a little easier to call it a day. Oh, the pool is a nice bonus.

For 3.50 Euros I have a grand campsite upon a grassy lawn (photo above). The farmhouse is located about a mile from the village of Aroue which doesn’t have anything but a cathedral, chateau and a few other buildings. The enterprising owners of the gite have the good sense to have a small store on premises and charge a fair price for the items on stock. I purchased some Cassoulet Au Confit De Canard for dinner as well as the petit dejeuner for tomorrow morning. Cassoulet with Confit is a mix of white beans and duck. It’s typical of the region and very good. Dejeuner is a typical French breakfast which is bread, jam, coffee and sometimes fruit and cereal. There are five other walkers staying at the gite and I think the owners did quite well at the store this evening.

In the time I’ve been on the Camino St Jacques I’ve only met four other Americans. Some villages and gites keep statistics on where Pilgrims are from. Out of the 4 Americans I’ve met, oddly enough, two are from Ft Worth, Texas. They are a newly retired couple who sold everything they own and now travel the world with 2 backpacks and 4 suitcases. They stashed the suitcases in Paris and are walking all the way from Le Puy, France to Santiago, Spain.
Last year it appears as though around 15 to 20 Americans walked on the Camino St Jacques in France. Prior to last year there were only a couple, if that, a year. I’m referring to people who walked as Pilgrims. Not the occasional American tourist out for a day walk. In Spain I’m sure the numbers are higher.

My Texan status seems to go over well with the French. From what I can tell I’m the first real live born and bred Houston, Texan to walk the Camino St Jacques. The French all want to know where’s my hat and horse. I just tell them I couldn’t get ‘em on the plane and we all get a good laugh out of it. Occasionally people still make references to the long defunct television series Dallas.

Tomorrow I intend to walk another relatively short day through a section that is supposed to offer excellent views of the Pyrenees. It's also predicted to be clear and sunny so I'm looking forward to it. I now plan to complete my walk on Saturday in St. Jean Pied de Port. Interestingly enough September 4th will be exactly 25 years since my completion of the Appalachian Trail in 1985.