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| Contour Map: Copyright John Brierley click here to see notes |
Click here for Google Map and my starting point today
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| Cafe/Bar in Navarette |
I had another restless night last night and I can't blame the Albergues this time. Up at 5:50, get ready and head down for a good hotel breakfast only to find they don't start until 7:30. I head back to my room, pack up, check out and hit the road again. I passed Ellie and her parents on the way to Navarette.
Like most other days Tom was on my mind again. I took out my phone and went through all my contacts and founds Tom's details. After staring at the phone for some time I then deleted his phone number. A few days earlier I had removed all the texts we had exchanged that were still there as a reminded to me of the brief messages we exchanged in the weeks leading up to his death. Deleting his number was like cutting another thread in the seam that bound us together.
Arriving in Navarette I found a really cool looking rock bar/cafe. There were lots of framed photos of a rock band, guitars on the wall and rock music playing in the background. I think the guy behind the counter taking our orders may have once been a member of the group pictured on the walls. If he had not been so busy I would love to have had the opportunity to talk to him about the place. I even forgot to get the name of the cafe but I did take the photo above as a reminder. They make a great omelet too : )
It was after leaving here that I had my episode outside the church where a couple may have mistaken my need to get on my knees to find something with me actually praying, see Topic: Why walk the Camino for a full account of this moment.
After a great start today, walking like I could finish this stage in record time, I experienced my familiar second stage stiffness and aches slowing me down again. The Ellie came up behind me and encouraged me to pick up the pace and walk with her. We stopped in Ventosa for refreshments. I took off my boots and socks and put my feet up to let the air at them and maybe dry out my socks a bit. Ellie's parents arrived and sat next to us. It was here that I first met a couple, Chris and Clara, from Austin in Texas. Wow, such a cheerful couple. all smiles and good humour. They talked about how they had been to Ireland when they were teenagers, about their jobs and family. I really like them and we saw much more of each other over the coming days. It was here too that I met three lads from Donegal. At this stage it was just basic introductions to Marty, Conor and Henry.
I set off on my own this time and before long Conor and Henry came speeding by. Marty came up behind me and we started to talk. We talked about why we were doing the Camino, he spoke about his work but most interesting he spoke about his Gaelic football career. He played for Donegal, winning an all Ireland medal with their under 21s, a great honour in Ireland. He also played with a great Donegal Senior team and just missed out on the highest honour i.e. an All Ireland Senior Football medal. We then came across Conor and Henry who were sitting just below a wooden bridge with their feet in the water cooling off. I left Marty there and made my way towards Nájera.
The double bed with a dip in the middle : )
I sought out a particular Albergue but they informed me they had no spaces left. The owner said he did have a small room in another property if I was interested. I followed him through the old streets until we came to the property. He took me upstairs and showed me a small room with a double bed. The tiny shower room was next door to it and I would be sharing that facility with others. I took the room. Showered and changed. I tried to take a nap but I was not able to drift off. The bed was very old but comfortable. I suddenly recalled the bed I used to share with my brother Eamonn when we were children. Like this one it had a spring base that had been stretched from years of use. As a result of these springs stretching the bed dipped in the middle. The mattress, not like the modern ones today, was packed with something like horsehair and assumed the shape of the spring base. This would be fine, and very cosy, if you were sleeping on your own. I was sharing with my brother so we both kept rolling into the middle. This infuriated my brother who insisted we each stay within our own half. He drew an imaginary line, starting at the top of the headboard and running all the way down to the end of the bed. I was not, under any circumstances, to cross that line. It was a great memory and one I had not thought about for decades.
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| Alexandro, Lis and Tina |
On the way back to my hostel I heard my name being called, turned and spotted Marty who asked me to join them for a drink. I would love to have but I had to get back to my room and prepare for tomorrow.
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Other Links, relating to this section of the Camino, you may wish to follow
Logroño:
Nájera:
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Topic: TomI don't know where to start on the subject of my brother Tom and my Camino experience. I do not intend to write about Tom's life here because that was never my intention. I want to write about how he became a bigger part of my journey that I ever thought he would. How I changed my own mind about plans I had after having the time and space to consider them and then there was the Fisterra episode, one you can make up your own mind about.
Motivation to walk the Camino:
I've mentioned already how my original motivation to walk the Camino was very simple, it was another challenge on my Bucket List and one that had the potential for new experiences with like minded people, or so I thought. Gradually my motivation started to change and the death of my brother Tom brought a new focus on the challenge. I reflected on the discussions I used to have with Tom about the Camino, how he spoke about it's origins and religious significance and I always sensed he would love to have come along if his health was better. I did, occasionally, feel that my own motivation was shallow because it lacks any religious dimensions. Thinking more about it I realised that while I am not religious I am spiritual in the modern sense of the word. I realised too that my motivation was shifting and had new meaning and purpose. I had taken a lock of Tom's hair after he died and placed it in my backpack. I took it with me whenever I went out on the mountains. I decided I would take 'Tom' with me, in spirit, along the Camino and all the way ti Fisterra. My promise to myself and to the memory of my brother was that I would walk from St. Jean Pied de Port to Santiago. That I would not use any other form of transport other than my own two feet for the 800Kms journey and that I would then take 'him' with me to the end of the earth, Fisterra.
The Camino:
From the moment I left home I had some time every day to think about Tom. I had happy thoughts, very sad moments, time to revise plans concerning his memory and an opportunity to let go, but never to forget.
As I walked along the Camino Tom would pop up into my mind and it often took me a few moments to realise he was no longer alive. I think I was still trying to come to terms with the loss, that my brain had not yet fully accepted his passing. Several days into the walk I took out my phone and decided it was time remove the text messages we shared in the weeks before his death. I read them over and over again with tears in my eyes as I sat on the side of a road in Northern Spain. I finally hit the delete button.
One day, on the road from Puente le Reina to Estella I noticed a small church, off the track and, to the left. The sign on the trail mentioned 'Ermita de san Miguel Arcangel' and for some reason, despite being exhausted and wanting to get to my destination for today, I decided to take a look. The arched entrance was at the far side of the church and it took me into the church lit only by the daylight from the door and the small windows on either side of the small stone alter. There was a second small stone alter in front of the main alter and a stone seating finish to the two side walls. I noticed a lady, another pilgrim, sitting at the wall opposite the doorway. She was writing something on a piece of paper. We exchanged a solemn nod which seemed appropriate based on her demeanour and the surroundings. I walked to the first alter, then to the main alter and finally looked upon the stone seating. They were all covered with pictures of men, women and children, most with handwritten messages from loved ones. Not wishing to disturb any of them I could only see a few written in English, they were heart breaking to read. I though that maybe this would be a nice place to leave the lock of Tom's hair I had been carrying since his death. I decided against this because I had promised to carry him with me all the way to Santiago and then on to Fisterra. I left the church and sat at a bench nearby. Maybe if was exhaustion or the though of all those very sad messages, each representing a time of immense grief in those families, or maybe the fact that I suddenly felt consumed by the loss of my brother, maybe it was all of the above but I had to put my head in my hands and fight back the tears. Five minutes later I was back on the trail.
A couple of days after my visit to the church of San Miguel Arcangel I again took out my phone, this time to remove Tom from my list of contacts. I questioned why I was doing this and could not find a good reason other than the very practical one that I would not be able to phone or text him anymore. I knew that there was more to it that that, I was slowly coming to terms with the loss. As I said above I was cutting the threads in the seam that bound us together as brothers and friends. After deleting his contact details I had irrational feeling of betrayal for my action like I was removing him from my life. I assured myself that these actions were necessary and had nothing to do with the memories of my brother and the sadness I still felt not being able to sit and talk with him anymore.
Tom in my Dreams:
Tom regularly appears in my dreams before, during and since completing the Camino. I will share a couple with you and maybe someone out there will understand the significance? I can mostly attribute some meaning to my dreams, no matter how abstract, because they generally relate to events or issues arising in my life around that particular time. I have not been able to understand Tom's role in these couple of examples I will outline below. Remember these are dreams and I take no responsibility for the content other than the fact that I am writing the account here so it may, in time, throw some light on the meaning.
Dream 1:
I was standing in the middle of a large crowd, next to a canal, watching a Gaelic football match. The President of the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA) came by and stood next to me. I body tackled him, rugby style, and the momentum sent both of us into the canal. I surfaced as did he and with heads just above the surface of the water and only 30cm (that's about 12ins) apart I splutter out an apology explaining that I had no idea what came over me. He laughed, how sporting of him, and said it was fine and all in the spirit of the atmosphere of the games. We stayed together in the canal and somehow watched the rest of the game from this artificial waterway.
Then we were both out of the water and shaking hands. He was arranging to get me five tickets in a corporate box in Croke Park for the all Ireland football final for myself and my four sons. I noticed my brother Tom standing close by dressed in what looked like some kind of native African attire. He started to go mad, apparently after licking the label on a garment worn by one of my sisters. The label , it seems, had been saturated in some kind of hallucinogenic substance.
Finally, a delegation led by my eldest grandson (aged 15) dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and red tie approach the president with a petition signed by every member of my extended family apologising for my behaviour.
Dream 2, a recurring dream:
This is an account of a short recurring dream that I had from the time Tom died up to the end of my Camino experience. Strangely, I have not had the dream in the last two months since getting home.
We used to live in a house facing onto a green area we called 'the green'. I was surrounded by houses, 40 in all and we lived at the centre in number 20. My father still lives there today. My brother Tom bought one of the other houses, number 36 and it too faced onto the green. Our house looked across the green and faced directly into the line of sight of cars on the short approach road to the green. While the green is not technically a roundabout most people observe it as such and drive around it in a clockwise fashion.
In this dream I am driving clockwise and about to exit the green and turn onto the short approach road. As I turn the bend my brother Tom is exiting the approach road and coming onto the green. Our cars almost touch each other. I wave to Tom. He is driving something like a very old American Cadillac with the paint almost all removed exposing the raw metal underneath. It was not rusted anywhere and looked like it might have been prepared for a new spray paint job. Tom looked very small behind the wheel which was unusual considering he was a very large man. Anyway, he does not turn his head or wave but I sense he has seen me yet he does not acknowledge me. I'm puzzled by this and the dream ends.
A short dream that came to me many times but vanished after I left the Camino. ??
Book about Tom's life:After Tom died I decided I would like to write a book to celebrate his life. I started to compile a list of people I should speak with to get an insight into different aspects of his life especially those I knew little about. I wrote to previous employers for employment dates and to educational records. I spoke with a friend of his from his days in the seminary. I had scanned hundreds of photographs of him from the time he was born right up to the year he died.
I thought the Camino walk would afford me a great opportunity to consider how I would present the story so as to do justice to his life. Well again I was in for a surprise.
There were days when I thought I had it all worked out and I was looking forward to picking up this book challenge when I got home. Then I thought that a better approach would be to create a web site where I could publish the story but also give his countless friends an opportunity to have their say and recall their own experiences with Tom. As time wore on a new awareness came over me. I started to question why I felt the need to write his story. One day as I walked along the Camino in quiet solitude a thought occurred to me that I had not considered before. How would Tom like to be remembered in the book and the answer that came to me was so obvious that I was amazed it had not come to me before now. Tom would hate to have a book written about him, it simply was not his way. He never sought the limelight, preferring instead to do his deeds and remain in the background. People have come forward since his death to talk about his good deeds, how he helped individuals or families in their time of need.
Immediately after this realisation I thought about the reaction of family members after I had announced my intentions to write Tom's story. I did not recall any excitement on their part and they had not mentioned it since that day. Now I realise they were not keen on the idea but were allowing me some space to come to my senses. I needed the solitude of the Camino to find the right path in relation to Tom's story.
Walking all the way:
There were occasions, especially when I was exhausted or when, in the last few days that I felt very ill, that I though about taking a taxi to get to my final destination for that day. However, I just had to recall the pledge I made to myself and to Tom, that I would walk all the way, to bring my objectives and determination back into focus.
To the end of the Earth with my brother Tom:
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| the boulder where I sought shelter and privacy |
I was now at the end of my journey with my brother. After spending a couple of days in Santiago I took a bus out to Fisterra where I planned to say goodbye to Tom. It was here that I had decided I would part with the lock of his hair that I had carried with me since his death and I hoped I would also finally come to terms with his death.
I walked the 3.5 kilometres from Fisterra to the lighthouse with Ger. We took a few photos before I picked the spot where I would descend to perform my own little ceremony. Ger and then Antoinette both, very kindly, offered to accompany me in case I needed support. I declined because I wanted this to be a private moment and I did not wish them to see me if I became emotional. I know, silly man, afraid to show any weakness.
This would be my final farewell to him although he will always be in my heart and never out of my mind. Well what actually happened may amuse you because it is being told to you by a non believer. I have my own thoughts on what happened, others put a different perspective on it.
I descended through the rocks behind the lighthouse until I felt I could go no further without putting myself at risk of being injured. I found a large boulder with some rocks at the base forming a neat hearth where other had previously burnt offerings or objects from their Camino journey in personal ceremonies be they religious or otherwise. I had Tom's hair in an envelope and planned to light the envelope. My way of parting with Tom. The wind was very strong so I crouched down to shelter myself from the wind. I was there for maybe twenty minutes but I best I could manage was a tiny flicker from the lighter, a new one. I adjusted the amount of fuel several times but there was no change. When I did get a tiny glimmer going on the paper it quickly expired. I finally gave up on the envelope thinking it was maybe damp. I took my brother's hair in my hand and tried to ignite it but nothing happened. I eventually realised this was not going to happen as I planned it, like so much of the my Camino experience. So, I placed the envelope under the rocks and I took Tom's hair in my left hand. I stood with this enormous boulder to my left and strand by tiny strand I release them into the swirling wind. It felt like the right thing to do and I was glad that I had not succeeded with my original plan. I stood in silence for a moment and felt elated and a great sense of well being. I started back up towards the lighthouse. When I arrived back at the base of the lighthouse Ger was there to meet me. He gave me a big hub : ) I told him what happened with the lighter and how I was forced to changed my plans and released Tom's hair into the swirling updraught coming up the side of the slopes. I took the lighter from my pocket to demonstrate to Ger how it had, thankfully, let me down. I lit up immediately I pressed it the first time, the second time the third time........................
I went to the end of the Earth with my brother, in my heart, after he passed on. Tom, I wish I had tried harder and gone to the end of the earth for you while you were still alive. Please forgive me for not trying harder. It's not like I feel any sense of guilt about his death or that I will carry regrets with me forever. We all make choices about our own lives and sometimes we have to accept and respect the choices others make about how they wish to live.
Tom made my Camino experience special. He gave it real meaning for me. He was an amazing individual and loved by so many. The outpouring of love for him after his death was some comfort to all his family. He is still in my heart and I think about him every day.
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