Kindness

8 kindness

At 3am I knew I was in it for a long tough day.  I didn't sleep much and we had an early start to this tough walk.  It was raining both inside and outside my coat.  I was really hot and uncomfortable. Walking those muddy trails was like walking in a sweltering rain forest.

We finally arrived at the Gite Pelerin.  A kind man took my coat and hung it up. Another man untied my muddy boots, removed them from my feet and stuffed newspaper inside of them to absorb moisture. This kindness of removing my shoes especially touched me.  There is something about shoes and socks and feet that is particularly personal . Parents spend a lot of time creating   independence in their children.  One of the rites of passage as a child is first, being able to take off one's shoes and socks, then put on shoes and  then tie them.    To have these muddy boot that had carried my tired body throughout this long wet day, removed by a stranger in kindness, welcoming and hospitality....it was an intimate gesture of care in which I graciously received....a Camino lesson to allow someone to serve me.

Although I was warm, I was soaked to the bone.   The pack cover was on all day, yet my pack was wet as were my clothes inside. Upon return from the shower, I noticed my coat and wet clothes were missing.  I must have seemed worried as the gentlemen got some keys and I was shown to them...on a drying rack in another room they had heated up to dry the pilgrims jackets.

A warm dinner was provided in this gite. It filled my belly, yes, but more than that my heart was warmed by the conversations around the table. Mark from Germany had attended OSU for a year. We had a Beaver-Duck clash.  Each person connected with their fellow travelers so by thn end of dinner we were no longer German, French, English, Dutch, American.  We were just pilgrims.  With hearts, souls, stomachs and feet warmed by kindness...

Kindness

8 kindness

At 3am I knew I was in it for a long tough day.  I didn't sleep much and we had an early start to this tough walk.  It was raining both inside and outside my coat.  I was really hot and uncomfortable. Walking those muddy trails was like walking in a sweltering rain forest.

We finally arrived at the Gite Pelerin.  A kind man took my coat and hung it up. Another man untied my muddy boots, removed them from my feet and stuffed newspaper inside of them to absorb moisture. This kindness of removing my shoes especially touched me.  There is something about shoes and socks and feet that is particularly personal . Parents spend a lot of time creating   independence in their children.  One of the rites of passage as a child is first, being able to take off one's shoes and socks, then put on shoes and  then tie them.    To have these muddy boot that had carried my tired body throughout this long wet day, removed by a stranger in kindness, welcoming and hospitality....it was an intimate gesture of care in which I graciously received....a Camino lesson to allow someone to serve me.

Although I was warm, I was soaked to the bone.   The pack cover was on all day, yet my pack was wet as were my clothes inside. Upon return from the shower, I noticed my coat and wet clothes were missing.  I must have seemed worried as the gentlemen got some keys and I was shown to them...on a drying rack in another room they had heated up to dry the pilgrims jackets.

A warm dinner was provided in this gite. It filled my belly, yes, but more than that my heart was warmed by the conversations around the table. Mark from Germany had attended OSU for a year. We had a Beaver-Duck clash.  Each person connected with their fellow travelers so by thn end of dinner we were no longer German, French, English, Dutch, American.  We were just pilgrims.  With hearts, souls, stomachs and feet warmed by kindness...

My friend Leslie

I had not met Leslie in person before Jane had dropped me off at Gite de Lestos in Montcuq. We had chatted and skyped quite a bit. During one particular conversation  I said "What if when we meet we hate each other?" and she replied  "I can tell you right now, that ain't gonna happen."My driver, Jane, pulled into Lestos and I recognized Leslie immediately, her hair down, her feet up, drinking a beer. Instant friend.  

Leslie is stronger and even more bull headed than I am. After all, she started out hauling 50 more pounds than needed and fighting her way over the snow in the Aubrac. In a few days she will have gone her first 500 miles. She doesn't like to hear my advice, or my Camino "teach to's". She does like to listen to my endless stories and all my singing.   She is in "saint training" for sure.  Today she told me I am the best friend she has ever had.  That can't be true, yet you do get pretty close when you walk with someone for weeks at a time.  We have shared a lot of our lives with each other.  I can't think of a better person to play in the mud with.  I loved it that there is actually someone this slowpoke could beat on the steep ascents. Sometimes we  both fall down and laugh so hard we can't get up.  Leslie and I have lived a million years of life together in 5  short weeks. 

So here' s to the girly girl Leslie.  

You are hereby entered into the Carol Clupny circle of lifetime friends.  You cannot get out no matter what shenanigans you may try to pull on me.  It just doesn't work that way.  Forever friends....Carol

My friend Leslie

I had not met Leslie in person before Jane had dropped me off at Gite de Lestos in Montcuq. We had chatted and skyped quite a bit. During one particular conversation  I said "What if when we meet we hate each other?" and she replied  "I can tell you right now, that ain't gonna happen."My driver, Jane, pulled into Lestos and I recognized Leslie immediately, her hair down, her feet up, drinking a beer. Instant friend.  

Leslie is stronger and even more bull headed than I am. After all, she started out hauling 50 more pounds than needed and fighting her way over the snow in the Aubrac. In a few days she will have gone her first 500 miles. She doesn't like to hear my advice, or my Camino "teach to's". She does like to listen to my endless stories and all my singing.   She is in "saint training" for sure.  Today she told me I am the best friend she has ever had.  That can't be true, yet you do get pretty close when you walk with someone for weeks at a time.  We have shared a lot of our lives with each other.  I can't think of a better person to play in the mud with.  I loved it that there is actually someone this slowpoke could beat on the steep ascents. Sometimes we  both fall down and laugh so hard we can't get up.  Leslie and I have lived a million years of life together in 5  short weeks. 

So here' s to the girly girl Leslie.  

You are hereby entered into the Carol Clupny circle of lifetime friends.  You cannot get out no matter what shenanigans you may try to pull on me.  It just doesn't work that way.  Forever friends....Carol

Food. Wonderful food.

Around the dinner table the other night we all greed how wonderful the food has been.  Averaging 32€,   , about $43, Demi pension has been a great bargain.  Of course the quality of the room varies....some with crisply ironed sheets and immaculate comforters and others you want to scrub down the entire room before you sleep. But the food..nummy.

Dinner is generally served at half past 7". It starts with a sweet wine and punts or crackers and chips. A steaming bowl of wonderful soup comes.  Then a vegetable platter and pasta or a meat dish. Wine flows freely at no additional charge and dessert is included.  Breakfast is less desirable with cafe and sweat breads and toast.  On two occasions the American girls had eggs..

Food. Wonderful food.

Around the dinner table the other night we all greed how wonderful the food has been.  Averaging 32€,   , about $43, Demi pension has been a great bargain.  Of course the quality of the room varies....some with crisply ironed sheets and immaculate comforters and others you want to scrub down the entire room before you sleep. But the food..nummy.

Dinner is generally served at half past 7". It starts with a sweet wine and punts or crackers and chips. A steaming bowl of wonderful soup comes.  Then a vegetable platter and pasta or a meat dish. Wine flows freely at no additional charge and dessert is included.  Breakfast is less desirable with cafe and sweat breads and toast.  On two occasions the American girls had eggs..

The Self Serve Gite....

Last night we stayed at the Ferme de la Hounde Lacoste, home of Jean-Michel, near Louvigny  . Although I had a fairly good nights sleep. I woke up groggy and took my Parkinson's meds and an antiimflatory late. I was slow getting packed up and paid my bill after all other guests had left. Jean Michel the owner told me that Leslie had paid him to give us a ride to Pomps. From there we would walk 9 km to Arthez-De-bearn we would stay in the gite of the baker. Gite bolangerie Brousse.

Finally, after three hours of walking hills, minimal mud...and Leslie yelling at me to stay out of the road...we arrived at the bolangerie and gite.  Leslie tried all the doors and no one answered. We snooped around a bit and found an open bathroom. I was just about ready to fall asleep with my head on the table when Leslie managed to push the main door open. We went inside and found well worn leather chairs, a tables for 12 and a fridge stocked with beer and pop.  Soon we discovered a note that had all guests names and room assignments. We slung our packs on and headed up to the third floor where we found a large bed room with adjacent bathroom. Two queen beds with crisp ironed sheets. 

Luxury

A note on the fridge said

Drinks€1.   Washing machine €1.  Instant coffee €1 postcards €1

What a bargain

We made ourselves at home in the self serve gite. Other guests seemed to be very familiar with this process. Everyone moved in and returned to the common area to visit.  At 7 pm Brousse the baker returned with dinner for the hungry pilgrims. 

The usual laughter and conversation carried on until 9 pm when the weariness and wine caught up with all. I am starting to hear words instead of just sounds, sentences instead of patterns. 

The Self Serve Gite....

Last night we stayed at the Ferme de la Hounde Lacoste, home of Jean-Michel, near Louvigny  . Although I had a fairly good nights sleep. I woke up groggy and took my Parkinson's meds and an antiimflatory late. I was slow getting packed up and paid my bill after all other guests had left. Jean Michel the owner told me that Leslie had paid him to give us a ride to Pomps. From there we would walk 9 km to Arthez-De-bearn we would stay in the gite of the baker. Gite bolangerie Brousse.

Finally, after three hours of walking hills, minimal mud...and Leslie yelling at me to stay out of the road...we arrived at the bolangerie and gite.  Leslie tried all the doors and no one answered. We snooped around a bit and found an open bathroom. I was just about ready to fall asleep with my head on the table when Leslie managed to push the main door open. We went inside and found well worn leather chairs, a tables for 12 and a fridge stocked with beer and pop.  Soon we discovered a note that had all guests names and room assignments. We slung our packs on and headed up to the third floor where we found a large bed room with adjacent bathroom. Two queen beds with crisp ironed sheets. 

Luxury

A note on the fridge said

Drinks€1.   Washing machine €1.  Instant coffee €1 postcards €1

What a bargain

We made ourselves at home in the self serve gite. Other guests seemed to be very familiar with this process. Everyone moved in and returned to the common area to visit.  At 7 pm Brousse the baker returned with dinner for the hungry pilgrims. 

The usual laughter and conversation carried on until 9 pm when the weariness and wine caught up with all. I am starting to hear words instead of just sounds, sentences instead of patterns.