- Time of past OR future Camino
- CF: 2001, 02, 04, 14. Ourense to Santiago 2019.
Well,
These past five years, last camino winter 2014, did I thirst for yet another pilgrimage: Uh huh!
As I walked around airport in Madrid Tuesday morning searching for those familiar McDonald’s Golden arches, with an unfamiliar menu, did I asked meself: What the heck were you thinking. Uh huh!
Why do we pilgrimage recidivists do this to ourselves? Am I shackled, no that would impede gait, chained, wrong as well, “called” to a desire to walk untold caminos from here to eternity: Uh huh!
I am resting in my lower bunk in Ourense, Spain.
Tuesday night, at the hostal in Madrid the receptionist said, “Please be patient, we’re trying to find you a bottom bunk”. I didn’t ask for one. Based on appearance, mine, they assumed the need.
Until a moment ago a fellow pilgrim from France was treating the dorm to a soft sounds jazz soundtrack.
Should he remain awake only quiting melodies until the last pilgrim eye is shut for the night: Uh huh!
BTW: he’s a French fellow do over. This is his fourth camino: Seville to Spain.
Oh! I forgot.
About two blocks shy of albergue an old and possibly dumb man, he said not a word, followed me down cobbled street right to albergue door.
Was I scared, no.
A bit creeped out: Uh huh!
The Great Universe gave me this rainbow while riding train, Madrid to Ourense, this morning.
These past five years, last camino winter 2014, did I thirst for yet another pilgrimage: Uh huh!
As I walked around airport in Madrid Tuesday morning searching for those familiar McDonald’s Golden arches, with an unfamiliar menu, did I asked meself: What the heck were you thinking. Uh huh!
Why do we pilgrimage recidivists do this to ourselves? Am I shackled, no that would impede gait, chained, wrong as well, “called” to a desire to walk untold caminos from here to eternity: Uh huh!
I am resting in my lower bunk in Ourense, Spain.
Tuesday night, at the hostal in Madrid the receptionist said, “Please be patient, we’re trying to find you a bottom bunk”. I didn’t ask for one. Based on appearance, mine, they assumed the need.
Until a moment ago a fellow pilgrim from France was treating the dorm to a soft sounds jazz soundtrack.
Should he remain awake only quiting melodies until the last pilgrim eye is shut for the night: Uh huh!
BTW: he’s a French fellow do over. This is his fourth camino: Seville to Spain.
Oh! I forgot.
About two blocks shy of albergue an old and possibly dumb man, he said not a word, followed me down cobbled street right to albergue door.
Was I scared, no.
A bit creeped out: Uh huh!
The Great Universe gave me this rainbow while riding train, Madrid to Ourense, this morning.
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