Well, the day was a busy one. I got up, had some breakfast, packed the bags, and headed down to the church. After a full day, including the mass at 4 p.m., I came back to the Casa to discover that there were no taxis available in all of Santiago. Two and a half kilometers later, I arrived at the train station after a nice, slow walk. Along the way, I stopped at a pastry shop and picked up something for breakfast in the morning. Three hours on the train, and I am now at my hotel in Madrid. The Casa Anglicana had a nice little bathroom that was about two and a half by six feet, maybe. The hot water tank in my room held two gallons, so each morning was a mad dash to beat the hot water before it ran out. Arriving at the Crowne Plaza Madrid Airport Hotel, I may have drained their hot water tank. It was really nice. I do believe it’s time for some sleep.
For those who are interested, here is a link to the book that I put together while I was here. I will tell you that the information is very interesting. The pictures are as good as I could take. And the layout—well, it’s a little wanting. It’s really difficult to publish books with pictures on Amazon. Anyhow, if it’s something you are interested in, you can go to Amazon and purchase a copy. Or, if you drop me a note, I will be more than happy to send you a free PDF version of it. The history of that one little church and all of the churches in Santiago is actually quite fascinating.
This was my day off and it was whirlwind tour day: Muros, Hórreo de Carnota, Xallas, Cape Finisterre, Fisterra, Muxia, and Ponte Maceira. Here we go…
Muros: a beautifully preserved Galician fishing town where granite arcades, narrow streets, and sea all come together. Its harbor still feels genuinely working rather than staged for visitors.
We only had 45 minutes here, so I headed straight for the Church of Santa Maria do Campo (the traditional name) / Igrexa San Pedro (current parish name).
The plate outside states: Currently, it is the parish church of Muros. From its original construction, in the 13th century, the Romanesque façade must be highlighted. Inside, there is an example of the Maritime Gothic style, with a single nave made of several wide pointed arches, which give the building the shape of an upturned ship. This building was converted into a Collegiate Church in the year 1500, thanks to the privilege granted to the town by the papal bull of Alexandre VI. After the conversion, successive improvement works were promoted, such as the creation of side chapels, a baptistery and a tower bell, which was built by the Guild of Fishermen, one of the main benefactors of the tempie. In 1851, surrounded by the political conflicts of the 19th century, the temple lost its status of Collegiate Church. Inside the church, the water font is remarkable due to its ubmerged sculpture of a snake that symbolizes triumph over sin.
Yeah. It’s a snake!
Inside…
Beautiful statues in the many side altars…
And then… the scariest Jesus I’ve ever seen! My goodness, these Spaniards have a way of making a point.
One of the primary “crops” of Muros is muscles. There are many farms. These long ropes are dangled below the floating farms and the muscles attach, grow, and are harvested.
Hórreo de Carnota: A hórreo is a traditional raised granary found especially in Galicia and Asturias in northern Spain. It was built to store corn, grain, potatoes, and other food while keeping them dry and safe from rodents.
Most are about this size…
The design is such that mice could climb up the pillars but the small round top of the pillars that the building sits on is flat and the little vermin couldn’t navigate them. The slats on the sides are for airflow. They are no longer used, but if one is on your property, you are required to keep it standing and repaired as they are considered part of the regional heritage.
As I said above, most are smaller, but we saw one of the largest…
Who would need such a large hórreo? Why the Church, of course. At the time, farmers were required to tithe 10% and the Church needed somewhere to store it all. See a big hórreo, look around… the church will not be far.
Xallas: Everything is big in Xallas and this was a big waterfall. Over 100 feet high. The water at the bottom is a combination of sweet water and salt water as the Atlantic Ocean is very near. In the past, the waterfall was much greater, but most of the water is now running a hydroelectric plant.
Cape Finisterra: We are now traveling along the the Costa da Morta (Coast of Death), getting its name from all the shipwrecks.
Enter the Raqueiros. These bandits supposedly put false lights along the shore—one famous version says lanterns were attached to cattle—so sailors would mistake them for safe harbor lights, steer toward shore, wreck on the rocks, and leave their cargo available for plunder. There were plenty of ships to plunder after they wrecked, but apparently an archbishop declared that all found property belonged to original owner and had to be returned. Yeah… and they also outlawed liquor in the USA for a while. I’ll let you figure out if said archbishop was obeyed. The actual lighthouse…
For many years, it was considered to be the end of the world, and it is easy to see why: no more beyond.
Enid, Oklahoma is about 4,500 miles away, straight across the Atlantic.
My artistic shot…
Fisterra: We stopped for lunch and I forgot to take pictures! It was good—Longueirón (Knives) from Fisterra and Galician Scallops. And then to the place I’ve been waiting for…
Muxia: I’ll let the pictures do the talking here, but will tell you that I was right down there below that big rock with red dot.
I posted a video on Facebook if you can get to it.
There is a church, but a lightning strike started a fire and it was gutted. Repairs are underway.
That is actually a large picture of the altar.
And just being weird here, but there was a large pile of rubble outside the building that the workers had been clearing out. Caught one of them on a smoke break and asked for a piece. He smiled and found me a good one. Yeah. It’s concrete, but it was close…
Last stop—Ponte Maceira: a bridge that spans the Tambre River on the Camino from Santiago toward Fisterra. According to medieval legend, Saint James’s disciples, Theodore and Athanasius, crossed an earlier bridge here while fleeing Roman soldiers after seeking permission to bury the Apostle. As their pursuers followed, the bridge miraculously collapsed, leaving the disciples safely across the river. The present medieval bridge came centuries later, but its seven stone arches still carry the memory of that miraculous escape.
That was nine hours of my life that I wouldn’t trade. Such an amazing and rich history here. Google these towns and ask about the legends surrounding them, especially regarding the Camino de Santiago and St. James. Fascinating.
This is definitely a working vacation. I am the only clergy serving the Casa Anglicana and St. Fiz Church (still forgot the photo). The Casa is full with 32 guests and the church…
From 11:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., I blessed many rosaries, heard confessions, prayed the midday office and the Mass, and welcomed over 400 visitors to the church. I also got chewed out on two separate occasions by little Spanish ladies who are not pleased with we Anglican apostates using their church (I survived both chewings and the bonus, I didn’t understand a word, but got the point). It was a very big day. Also a glorious one.
Afterward, I slipped off my cassock, grabbed a cold beer, and took in a few sights—first the church at the Convent of St. Francis was open. As it is not one of the big tourist hangouts, it was quiet and beautiful.
After that, I did some random people-watching, then stumbled into an even quieter courtyard. I can relate, Alonso III de Fonseca. I can relate.
The courtyard was lovely.
Coming back to the Casa, I passed in front of the Cathedral and watched the Martins swooping between the spires. Thinking they might have been Swallows, I was reminded of a passage from Treatise on the Love of God by St. Francis de Sales:
There are certain birds, Theotimus, which Aristotle calls apodes, because having extremely short legs, and feeble feet, they use them no more than if they had none.
And if ever they light upon the ground they must remain there, so that they can never take flight again of their own power… hence they remain there motionless, and die, unless some wind, propitious to their impotence… happen to seize upon and bear them up.
He then writes,
But we mortals rather resemble apodes…
And concludes,
The wind that raises the apodes blows first upon their feathers…
Yet, it is the wind of divine love that must blow upon us should we ever choose to “light upon the ground,” that is, step outside of God’s love and grace.
Lesson: never “light upon the ground,” but remain always in flight of God’s grace. However, if you choose to try and “walk” alone, and find that you can’t, pray for Wind. It will find you.
This also reminds me of someone I visited with today. I felt a breeze around them.
My days may be off, but we are seeing the world. I hope this post is more than a photo dump like the other day, but… I’ve experienced so much. Let’s see what happens…
Yesterday was a travel day extraordinaire! Twelve hours from point A to point B. One of those hours was stupidity on my part in not knowing how to read my ticket, the other eleven hours were automobiles and buses (two of them to be exact). The first half of the trip was good, but when I hit Paris — OY! Note to self: when reading your bus ticket, don’t look for destination—look for bus number. I was probably standing directly next to my outbound bus for thirty minutes, but the board never said, “Rouen.” Instead, it said the next stop (whatever that was), and I missed it. Had to purchase a new ticket for the next bus. Dang near missed that one as well until I realized my mistake.
There was a fun sight along the way:
Paris traffic was c.r.a.z.y. and the bus driver headed down the wrong street twice and had to back up! but I finally arrived (two hours later than planned) in Rouen, France. Life is good! I’m in France for Pete sake! (Sorry, “Pierre sake!) The fella checking me in at the hotel was VERY French in attitude, but I smiled. It was dark, but I decided to see what I could see. It was so worth the 12 hours of traveling. I came around a corner… I don’t know that a tear ran down my cheek, but it was a close call.
This morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to see what the city offered, but I did have one destination in mind. First things first, though… I went back to the cathedral to see the inside, but no sooner had I arrived and they were ushering us all out. What? Turns out, Mass was about to begin. Well, my Anglican friends, I kept my mouth shut and had a seat. What a surprise and blessing for me: from my Facebook post… “When your heathen soul gets lucky and you show up on time to attend mass with the Archbishop of Rouen and Primate of Normandy, Monseigneur Dominique Lebrun. Second photo from web.”
At this point I was feeling good. I continued with my tour, seeing what I could see. Only problem: so much of what I wanted to see was behind locked gates and I wasn’t allowed to get close. Just you wait! My first time through the 12-century gothic Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rouen.
1000 years in the weather has done much damage to everything. They are working on the restoration, but it is a slow process. St. James: notice the shell on his cap. Having walked a portion of the Camino de Santiago, that shell is like a secret sign and your eye is immediately drawn to it. I stopped dead in the middle of a street later in the day. I’ll show you that in a minute.I would like to say that It was Jesus who caught my attention in this picture, but it was that red hair. I don’t know what that says about me. I haven’t identified the artist.
We’ll be back at 2:30 p.m. but for now, I headed to my next destination—and the point of coming to Rouen to begin with—the place where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.
Friends, Joan of Arc has been a hero of mine forever. This was on the list of places to visit from the first time I came to Europe. It was simple, noisy, dirty, smelly, drunks being loud, people oblivious, none of it mattered… I pulled out my small rosary and rubbed it in the dirt of this place.
I came back later in the day and found the spot with the sun directly behind the marker.
The small Joan of Arc medal on my rosary that came home to her ashes…
Sitting here shaking my head… don’t know how to explain.
I stopped and had some lunch, seafood, then made my way back to the cathedral. I had read somewhere that there is a tour that begins at 2:30 on Saturday. It is not posted anywhere or publicized. Show up and join in. I did. For the next three hours, I visited the parts of the cathedral I wasn’t allowed to get close to and parts I didn’t even know existed! Amazing. There were only ten of us on the tour. Did I mention it was all in French? I didn’t understand a word said, but it was absolutely fascinating.
The Baptistry…
It was all I could do not to straighten that candle!
The Joan of Arc side chapel…
Chapelle de la Vierge (Chapel of the Virgin)…
St. George… “Kill the dragon!!”
And I haven’t forgotten…
Some of you may remember this photo…
It was taken in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France, the starting point of the Camino de Santiago in 2024. Well, today, as I was walking along, I came across this…
The Camino is not done with me. It keeps calling in the most remarkable ways. Just wait until this October! I’m still blown away by this development, but that’s later. For now… Yeah… “Buen Camino!” Mine continues! God is good.
My day and my life. It was and is a good one. Tomorrow, is another travel day. Back to Luxembourg. There are some places I want to see and I’m planning on a couple of “vacation” days where I look out the window of my hotel room, read my book, sip some wine, and not worry about the world too much.
Today has been a day of travel. I went from Los Arcos to Logroño. My bus was late so I missed my second bus to Madrid. There was another one at 12:45 PM and I got that one. Four hours later I arrived in Madrid. I went and found a new suitcase because I had been carrying my possessions in a bag that I found in the back room of the hotel. I gave away my hiking shoes in Los Arcos because the hikers I had were murder on my foot. The walking I did in my sandals hurt like the dickens at the beginning, but settled in after a bit. I somehow suspect that a little bit later tonight I will regret that walking. I have found some new shoes! Skechers. There were several other brands, but these are recognized. Soft on the bottom, and more importantly, soft on the top.
I have stayed in some very nice places the last several nights. However, the hotel I’m staying at in Madrid is a paradise. I’m sitting down, waiting on my octopus to be delivered for my supper. I’m thinking it’s going to be delicious although you who have issues with my mackrel during the week may not find it so appetizing.
I continue to think about many things. We really don’t change. We are who we are and we fight the battles. It doesn’t matter where you are, your demons will follow you. If you pray that those demons might release you and they remain, does that mean that you are a complete loss and destined for level nine? Or does that mean that Saint Paul heard correctly, “My grace is sufficient for thee.” Do we continue to fight against the demons? I look at the person that I am, and I wonder, is this really who God wants me to be? I can’t imagine the person that I am is satisfying to Him. We desire to be more but… all that remains is who we are…. hold that thought, supper has arrived…
I absolutely complained to the management. It was a terrible supper. The baby octopus was two days too old. Horrible. I ate it so that I would not embarrass the chef. For those of you who know that I eat mackerel out of a can, please know that this was even better, and if I could get it in a can, I would be eating it every day! Just for the record.
I see that I have mentioned this earlier, so I am just rambling now… Before I arrived at my hotel, I purchased a new suitcase and a new pair of sneakers. My foot is very appreciative of the new sneakers. The suitcase actually contains everything after the great purge. I got rid of my backpack and many of the items that I needed for the long walk. However, I was left with a small day pack, and it was bursting at the seams. It made it this far, but I think it had just about met its maker.
When I walked into the luggage store and the shoe store, they both looked at me as though I did not belong. That is something worth preaching on. However, when they realized that I could actually pay… do you remember that scene from Pretty Woman, apparently they did… they helped me out.
I have been rambling all day long. My apologies. Not great writing. However, I’ve been struggling from one place to the next and I’m just about to the place where I can stop. I need a haircut. I need a shower. I need somebody to trim my eyebrows (I can’t be that shaggy English guy!) I need about a 12 hour nap. Who doesn’t? We go too hard. We must learn to find peace and rest…………
I do not believe that we know how to breathe. I think we try so hard to prove to the world and to ourselves… What?… Something.… That we are… Important? Have relevance? Deserve to be heard?…
… Maybe we just want the world to know that we exist or existed? Maybe we are all the good thief who cries out in all desperation, “Remember me.” …… I’m talking to myself now…..
Wait! I forgot about my white crane this morning. She/he was sitting on their nest at the top of the bell tower in Los Arcos. A beautiful bird, and so very peaceful to watch. So high up that she/he did not care that we were down below observing them.
If you do not hear from me in the next six months, start searching for my body in this area of Ireland. I’ll be headed there tomorrow.
It only looks like I need to wash my feet, but it is actually a bruise on my right foot brought on by a stress fracture. The swelling was enough this morning that I could barely get my sandal on. I did not try my shoes.
And, yes, I am aware that I have finger toes, and that there is a massive gap where another toe could fit in.
What does this all mean? I am seeking further advice from a podiatrist. I have to be out of this hotel by noon tomorrow so things could happen quickly.
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” – Ferris Bueller.
Stick with me my blog reading friends, we have a change of plans. Two to four weeks of little walking or it will be a couple of months in a boot. I choose to rest, and what better place to rest than the Irish countryside. I’ll be there for three to four weeks, then we’ll see what’s next. Heck, I already have an invitation from friends to meet them in Vienna and I’m definitely still planning on Norway. Regardless of the aches and pains, life is very good. Love living it.
Tomorrow is mostly travel: hotel to bus stop (car), Los Arcos to Logroño (bus), Logroño to Madrid (bus… about 4.5 hours), and Uber to hotel. The flight to Dublin leaves Saturday morning.
The last five miles of the walk for today comes with a warning on the map: From here to Los Arcos there is hardly any shade. Remember this especially in summertime. No water fountains or any other service available. The high for today is only supposed to be 49 with a 70% chance of rain. As long as the blister doesn’t give me fits, it should be fine.
I don’t think I got one drop of rain today. It was a beautiful day and was able to take my jacket off for a while. The wind kick back up again and it got cool though. I’m now in Los Arcos.
I looked at that pointy little mountain way off in the distance, and thought to myself, “Self, I bet they make you climb it.” Well, we did not have to climb it, but it was close. 
The road was beautiful today.
I’m not sure what the crop is, but there are fields of these yellow flowers. They’re beautiful.
And then I came across these purple trees. They were only in one spot.
My feet need to rest, so I will be taking tomorrow off. I’ve got in around 54 miles in three days so I’m feeling pretty good about that. I actually built in two days off each week and I’m ready. This is a physically challenging experience.
Onacompletely different subject, I’ve been thinking about “want.” Actually, it was focused and intense thinking as I walked this morning. It seems that want is at the heart of so much sin and pain in our own lives. Those who have, want more. Those who don’t, want something. We are always wanting. It definitely ties into, “Thou shall not covet.” When we want something or many things, we lose our peace. We become so focused on IT, that we lose sight of all that we truly have. Those things that are most important. I was trying to figure out how to rid myself of want. It also plays back to that Margaret Atwood quote from a couple of days ago. When there is want/desire, there really is no peace. I’ve used it in a sermon before, and somewhere in a closet, I still have the album—The The (yeah, that’s the band name), True Happiness This Way Lies. Or, maybe, I just need to get out of my head and go visit with some other pilgrims.
Waking up this morning I find out there’s less to be concerned about. I’ve only been at it for about a week now, but I’m finding myself very much in a routine. I sleep, I have breakfast, I do the final pack on my bag, I walk, I pray, I drink lots of water, I eat when I’m hungry, I find my room, I get things ready for the next day, and I sleep. That really does sum it up. I know that I always compare things to praying the rosary. Once you figure out the mechanics of it… The Lord prayer, the Hail Mary, the Fatima prayer, etc.… once you figure out all those other things, then you are able to actually pray. It might be the same with this walk. I wonder what is next? As our minds begin to pray more deeply with the rosary, what will we learn/pray/discover/etc. as we walk ?
My opportunity to pray the rosary today was amazing. It was in the ruins of a monastery. That was an existence almost 900 years ago. The brothers were there. I could feel their prayers. I had to make myself get up and move. I would still be sitting there otherwise.
Today was really all about the walk. I think my mental self and my physical self are beginning to meet in a particular place. I think that place will allow me to move forward, but it is a challenge. I have walked more than 17 miles today, which is more than anything I’ve ever walked before. The interesting thing is, I walked that many miles yesterday as well. At some point, the body says, I’m tired!
Later…My feet hurt and there were times when I wondered what the hell I have gotten myself into.
There were still flowers along the way. I think I missed this one by a day or two, but it was still pretty.
I have joined the ranks of the blistered, and it is a crowd pleaser. As much as we do to take care of our feet, it was inevitable. All shall be well. Note to self: don’t take any detours.
This one is for my cat. I’m pretty sure The Queen would appreciate it. Len, don’t take it personal.  She really is a bitch. 
While you are here… Go into the restaurant. Sit in the bar. You will not understand anything that is being said, but it is passionate and there is life. Much life—movie life. Old men that are discussing Catch 22 or whether or not Israel should retaliate against Iran. Who is to say? The beer flows and there are smiles and they are happy. What more could a person want?…. With so many men, I think a few wives would be appreciated.
I am still considering my Facebook post from a couple of days ago. I shall renew it here.
OK, I know I put that somewhere!
Today, the best moment or timeframe was when I was praying my rosary at the monastery that had been built around 1000 years ago. There were red poppies, growing all around, and I could imagine each of them being one of those monks that had lived and prayed in that place. I kept trying to figure out where the sanctuary was located. It was hard to discern. However, you really could feel them all around you. They were there. When you prayed, you knew you were praying with them. It felt as though they were thankful to have someone new praying with them. I was glad that they chose me today.
The photo below is the best I could do today. It would have required me to climb multiple steps to get you a better picture. I was not up for it. Hopefully this one will work.
Finally, there is a story about the water near this place.…
Take care not to drink the water here, neither yourself nor your horse, for it is a deadly river! On the way to Santiago we came across two Navarrese sitting by the bank, sharpening the knives they used to flay pilgrims’ horses which had drunk the water and died. We asked them fi the water was fit to drink, and they lyingly replied that it was, whereupon we gave it to our horses to drink. Two of them dropped dead at once and the Navarrese flayed them there and then.
In other words, leave your pony at home!
I could be rambling tonight. Sorry. It is 9:12 PM and I need to get ready for tomorrow. I pray you are well.
Did I mention the bells? I don’t know. Oh, well.
I’m too tired to read back over this one to see if there are typos. You can point them out and I will try and correct them, otherwise… Life is better with typos.
17.6 miles/35,002 steps.
410.38 miles to Santiago. I think I will break the 400 mile barrier tomorrow. Tell that to my feet and they may come and kick you! 
All that remains of this 12th century monastery are a few cut stones, and I had to walk an extra mile to get to it, but… it was as though I were surrounded by these monks from 900 years ago and we were praying as one. A beautiful place.
