{"id":563,"date":"2024-11-13T11:59:03","date_gmt":"2024-11-13T11:59:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?post_type=episode_posts&p=563"},"modified":"2024-11-15T13:53:44","modified_gmt":"2024-11-15T13:53:44","slug":"episode-2-via-podiensis","status":"publish","type":"episode_posts","link":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?episode_posts=episode-2-via-podiensis","title":{"rendered":"Episode 2: Via Podiensis"},"content":{"rendered":"

Via Podiensis<\/h4>\n

In early May 2012, I decided to walk the Camino,\u00a0 the route leading across France to Saint Jacques de Compostelle or Santiago in Spain.<\/p>\n

I began to prepare for this while I was in Malta, on the island of Gozo, where Beth and I were attending the foundation course in BioGeometry, given by Kris Attard.<\/p>\n

Every morning at sunrise I set out to walk around the island. Gozo is rather small, so the walk was not long but involved hills and rocky paths.\u00a0 In under an hour I built up a sweat and felt good after a shower and breakfast before we were seated in the training room.\u00a0 We were there for a week.<\/p>\n

The year 2012 was the third anniversary of Ronalds\u2019 disappearance\u2019 and it was also the year of the long-awaited \u2018shift\u2019.\u00a0 The \u2018shift\u2019 had been referred to and anticipated ever since I become acquainted with the wisdom teachings and started delving into the intriguing information on the Mayan Calendar among other sources.<\/p>\n

It seemed appropriate to undertake my personal Camino during this auspicious time.\u00a0 It was likely to be a transformative experience, coming face to face with myself after the dramatic unfolding over the few years prior to and after Ronald\u2019s death.<\/p>\n

I had 17 days from 1 June until\u00a0 when I planned to start my journey from Le Puy en Velais \u2013 one of four routes across France culminating in St Jean Pieds du Port at the foot of the Pyrenees, which marked a significant threshold.\u00a0 From there pilgrims climbed the grueling mountain track to Roncesvalles<\/em> in Spain and continued on the route through to Santiago.<\/p>\n

I knew that I did not want to be walking in Spain in August so decided that I would stop wherever I had arrived on 31 July.\u00a0 This gave me approximately six and a half weeks.<\/p>\n

Beth had walked the route from Le Puy en Velais with a group of friends a couple of years previously on her retirement from the International Labour Organisation (ILO), immediately after we had shared the \u2018Women in the Wild\u2019 vision quest in the Cedarberg mountains in South Africa.\u00a0 So, I was going to follow in her footsteps, with her advice and helpful information.<\/p>\n

We travelled down to Le Puy en Velais by train from Geneva and gave ourselves the weekend in this charming town.\u00a0 I planned to set off on Sunday after the farewell blessing to pilgrims in the Cathedral.<\/p>\n

I had registered the day before and had my credencialis<\/em>[1]<\/strong><\/sup><\/em><\/a>, maps, guidebooks and the mandatory coquille Saint Jaques<\/em> tied and dangling from my rucksack, which was too heavy already \u2013\u00a0 I could tell from the looks of the more seasoned pilgrims in the train.\u00a0 Later I would post more than 9 kgs back in a box, but for the first leg I was lumbered.<\/p>\n

I can remember the \u2018departure\u2019 path well.\u00a0 Only about 30 meters up from the street and then it turned at right angles and continued upward with a gentle rise but out of view behind dense undergrowth.\u00a0 Just before it turned, I stopped and turned to wave to my companion Beth at the roadside, so aware of what I was embarking on and the portent of what lay in store.<\/p>\n

Although the Camino is a path well-travelled by millions of pilgrims, for each individual who steps onto it, it becomes the \u2018path less travelled\u2019.\u00a0 It offers everyone the possibility of personal growth and transformation.<\/p>\n

As soon as I took the path and started walking up the slight gradient under a lovely tree cover, I could see figures ahead of me \u2013 small with different coloured rucksacks, poles and hats.\u00a0 My body started to get into a rhythm, my breathing more regular and I sensed the oxygen moving through my bloodstream to my muscles, which would be severely tested over the next six weeks.<\/p>\n

Arriving at my first stop for the night I was already aware of blisters.\u00a0 So much to learn.\u00a0 My socks seemed to be too thick or my feet had swollen, or both.<\/p>\n

I bathed my feet in warm water in one of the bowls obviously provided for that purpose and was aware of the sympathetic and knowing looks from the assembled more experienced camino walkers.\u00a0 Several offered advice in French.\u00a0 Around the table with generous helpings of thick potage they shared their day, in French.\u00a0 I was grateful that I could understand and participate.\u00a0 This was to be the pattern for the next six weeks.<\/p>\n

My guidebook gave details of the Via Podiensis<\/em> GR65 route and what one could expect to find on the way \u2013 contours, gradient, forest and steep climbs up or down through mountains.\u00a0 And most importantly, depending on the number of kilometers I decided to attempt based on this information, a range of different types of accommodation at various stops along the way.<\/p>\n

These started with basic gites<\/em> with collective shower and toilet facilities where the main option was sharing rooms with up to 12 beds.\u00a0 Sometimes there were possibilities for 4-person-sharing and occasionally doubles.\u00a0 I could also choose to opt for a private room in an Auberge depending on my need, and then have the luxury of a soaking bath.\u00a0 I gave myself this privilege at least once or twice a week.<\/p>\n

I was pleased to be walking with my own company without any pressure to keep up with the group and complete the day\u2019s walk to meet up at a specific place.\u00a0 I felt freedom creeping in to my tired and aching muscles.\u00a0 A whole new series of muscles I had not been aware of before\u2026 in my arms, shoulders, neck and my back.\u00a0 Everything was alive\u2026 but aching.<\/p>\n

My breath came into my awareness very early in my journey.\u00a0 The rhythm established in my breathing became one with the rhythm of my stride and the swinging of my poles as I set out each morning as early as I could at sunrise.<\/p>\n

I would hear other pilgrims ready themselves heaving rucksacks over shoulders well before the sun broke over the horizon.\u00a0 And then I settled into my little ritual which involved negotiations with my feet.\u00a0 The blisters which had appeared on day one were to be my constant companions for what turned out to be 770 kilometers across France.<\/p>\n

So, every morning I checked the condition of my heels and each toe and did the necessary bandaging of individual digits coaxing my feet into the thin socks which could accommodate the bandaged layers.\u00a0 At some stage, perhaps after only a week or so, I tied up my boots which now dangled from the bottom of my rucksack and began to walk in sandals.\u00a0 For about one third of the journey or more I walked in sandals.<\/p>\n

I saw my shadow on the ground with my wide-brimmed hat and poles and hanging boots and was struck by how quickly I had absorbed the essence of the pelerine.<\/p>\n

There was one misty morning which is forever engraved in my memory.<\/p>\n

I had arrived at a farm the evening before and was generously fed with soup, bread and cheese with wine.\u00a0 After a good night\u2019s sleep (I think I even had my own room), I prepared to take my leave \u2013 my feet snug in their sandals, and stepped out into the mist and slightly chilled air.<\/p>\n

A beautiful scene as the path curved across the meadow and up into a tree covered section, beckoning.\u00a0 I could feel a quiet and peaceful calm settling in me and an anticipation in my cells as my body stirred in readiness for the 18 or 19 kilometres I\u2019d mapped out for myself for the day.\u00a0 Arriving at the open meadow some distance from the farmhouse, I stopped and looked around.<\/p>\n

A figure was approaching from the opposite direction where the mist was still circling, and I waited in the early morning sun in no rush to get ahead of him.\u00a0 A man appeared \u2013 with his broad-brimmed hat and staff the image of the timeless typical pelerin who has walked this way for centuries.\u00a0 He stopped and looked kindly at my sandaled feet and at me.\u00a0 I noticed his beautiful shining blue eyes.\u00a0 A beautiful man actually.\u00a0 I felt pleased he had stopped and was only a metre in front of me. \u2018Bonjour, je suis Dominic\u2019 he offered.<\/p>\n

\u2018Bonjour, je m\u2019appelle Marni\u2019 I answered.<\/p>\n

Then there was a pause, quite a long pause, as the gaze from those beautiful shining blue eyes penetrated mine.\u00a0 I could feel some shivers building up along my spine which then spread across my skin surface, when he said quietly, \u2018Bonjour, Marilyn\u2019 and then turned and silently continued up the path and into the woodlands.<\/p>\n

Speechless, I took this stranger\u2019s greeting into my being.\u00a0 How on earth? Up till now I had introduced myself when required as Marni.<\/p>\n

And now a stranger had called me clearly by my name, Marilyn.\u00a0 And so Marilyn continued on her path and it fitted and felt more and more comfortable as French pilgrims called out to me as I hobbled along: \u2018\u00c7a va, Marilyn?\u2019 and \u2018\u00c7a va mieux, Marilyn?\u2019<\/p>\n

I felt myself allowing \u2018Marilyn\u2019 to move in, slip into the driver\u2019s seat and begin to steer this process of Self-discovery, the next phase of \u2018getting to know myself\u2019.<\/p>\n

[1]<\/strong><\/sup><\/em><\/a> The pilgrim\u2019s passport, which needed to be stamped at each stop along the way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The first stage of walking the Camino across France -in sandals!. Meeting myself – Bonjour Marilyn.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":564,"template":"","categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-563","episode_posts","type-episode_posts","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-part-4-aftermath-and-afterlife"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts\/563","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/episode_posts"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/564"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=563"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=563"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=563"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}