on behalf of Bob Spenger

[pieter pannevis]

Warning: This is a long, boring, personal narrative. If you do not care
for this sort of thing, use the delete button now. Please don’t read it
for spite just so that you can gripe about it later.

Dear Groups,

It is 2:30 Tuesday morning and I need the sleep, but my head is
spinning too much with fragmented phrases and I have to get them
written and out of my mind to get any sleep.

It has been a long, busy, extended weekend.  It started with the two
hundred mile drive over the pass to Bakersfield for my Thursday morning
dental appointment. That resulted in a trip to an oral surgeon to make
arrangements for an implant. Though I am not happy with the thought of
facing that ordeal, I am ever so grateful to both offices for working
me into their busy schedules – in one case working through the lunch
hour to accommodate us out-of-towners. We still had time in the
afternoon to drive the next 120 miles across the coast range in order
to visit my wife’s aging parents in San Luis Obispo the next morning.
Friday afternoon gave us plenty of time for a leisurely drive down to
Santa Barbara, taking the inland route over one more mountain pass. We
blundered a bit getting to the mission, although it is not really new
territory for us. We didn’t realize at first that we were following
directions that were written for travelers driving up from the south on
the coast highway. Since we came at it from the north, we needed to
take the opposite turns. I finally got the coastal fog wiped from my
brain and we arrived at the retreat center in time to check in and get
settled before the Friday evening reception.

It was a wonderful feeling at the reception, meeting old friends and
becoming acquainted with those whom I had known only through their
e-mail to the groups. It always gives a rush to get thanks for some
little scrap of advice that I have passed along. My old backpacking
buddy, Froylan, was there with his wife Millie. We go back 45 years, so
it is always a pleasure to get together again. I have Froy to blame for
getting me interested in the crazy pilgrimage business in the first
place. Lynne (S-bis group) and Kit (GoC group), two of my Camino
Frances hiking companions, were both there. I had met Lynne at a
Dagenais seminar a couple of years ago and we met up again at
Triacastella and walked to Sarria. I joined up with Kit at SJPP and
went up the Pyrenees with him as he filmed the start of his video of
the Camino. The final video was on display at the meeting and he had
copies available in both CD and tape format. It was a chance to
congratulate the organizers, Edy, Kathy, Lin, and Zita (when they
weren’t too busy) for the marvelous job they had done. I had met the
M.C., George, at the Santa Fe meeting and this time, I had a chance to
meet Sandy, who had organized the Williamsburg meeting with him. Sandy
is a fellow Portuguese route walker, so we had a chance to exchange
impressions.

The program was full of familiar faces. I had heard Professor Rudolph’s
talk before, but it was a pleasure to hear it again and pick up new
insights. It is not so much a story of his pilgrimage as it is a poem
about the camino. Our group was fortunate in that, although his book
had not been released yet for publication by the U. of Chicago Press,
the meeting organizers were able to persuade them to provide
pre-release copies of the book so that we were able to have a book
signing. I had also seen Professor Dagenais’ high tech “Virtual
Cathedral” before in its home base in a special screening room at UCLA.
However, that was well over a year ago and much has been added to it.
It portrays, in three-dimensional form, the cathedral as it was
described the Codex Calixtinus. Alan Joyce’s talk was a sort of sequel
to the one he gave at the Santa Fe meeting. The result of his extensive
research and rational conclusions have changed my mind to the point
where I now believe that it is a reasonable possibility that Saint
James' remains are in the tomb at Santiago. I believe that a copy of
his talk is to be posted in the Santiagobis archives.

Joseph and Lydia Banales were there and Joe gave a talk on his progress
in working out a California pilgrimage – the Mission to Mission Walk.
He is to be congratulated for his outstanding efforts, both with the
research and planning and with walking it piece by piece from San Diego
as far as Santa Ynez. His website is still under construction, but you
can see his home page with his e-mail address at: www.missionwalk.org.
This talk was especially close to my heart. On my first trip, I went
past O Cebreiro (which always gives me the creeps) and stayed at
Hospital da Condesa. There was no cafe or store there, so I left my
pack and walked the next 2-3 km to Alto do Poio where there are a
couple of bars. While I was polishing off a huge bocadilla de queso and
a large mug of beer, I got into a conversation with a Spanish pilgrim
of about my vintage. He didn’t know any English and I know very little
Spanish. However, he was one of those people who are natural
communicators and he soon had me using words in Spanish that I did not
remember that I had learned. We actually had a real conversation. I am
sure that the beer helped to loosen up the usual internal restrictions
of my own memories. When I told him that I was a Californiano, He
brought up the subject of Father Serra and the missions of our state.
Then it struck me like a bolt of lightening. Why not a San Diego to
Solano pilgrimage (or reverse)? I am not the first to get such an idea.
Others have thought of it, though not necessarily as a pilgrimage, and
at least one had already done it by bicycle. The spacing is ideal for
bicycles. Each distance is a reasonable one day bike ride. I casually
mentioned the idea at a meeting held a few months later in San
Francisco and it took off like wildfire. It was as if many people
already had the concept dormant in their minds and all that was needed
was a spark to wake it up. I have toyed around a lot with the idea
since then, especially since my home at that time was right on the old
route, about half way between San Juan Capistrano and San Gabriel. But
I was really daunted by the thought of all the city streets and
freeways that have filled in over the old route, especially in Orange
and Los Angeles Counties. Even in Spain, I felt comfortable only when I
was out in the open country or in the small villages. The middle of the
metropolis was not very encouraging for working out a route.
Fortunately, this did not deter Joe, who lives a little further on up
the route near the San Gabriel mission. I take my hat off to him.

Prior to the weekend main event, there had been a two day intensive
training course for hospitaleros/as. This was conducted by Father Jose
Ignacio Diaz, assisted by Mariluz and Jan Melis, who are experienced
hospitaleros themselves and did any necessary translation. The newly
graduated “volunteer hosts” were introduced at the Friday night dinner
and it occurred to me that there were two tiers of participants at the
weekend meeting: the closely knit group of 45 people who had gone
through this rigorous program and 70 or so of us “newbies.” It reminded
me of the distinction on the road of the long termers, starting far
away from the Spanish border and those who just did the Camino Frances
from SJPP or closer. I had signed up for the weekend meeting only,
since I did not feel that I was up to working as an hospitalero and I
felt that the post meeting retreat would be appropriate only for
Catholics. I would have had the same sense of being an interloper as I
had during the masses along the camino, sitting in the back pews trying
to be inconspicuous. After I heard about some of the items done in the
curso, I thought that it probably would have been worth my time to have
taken it. I don’t know about the retreat – it is still in progress.

My most memorable time on all my walks was the afternoon and evening at
Granon in 2000. That was a very special occasion for a number of
reasons – too much to include in an already too long message. I didn’t
stay there in 2002, partly because I got there too early in the day,
but mostly because it would not have been the same and the nostalgia
would have been to strong to handle. It was quite an emotional shock
for me at the Santa Barbara meeting when it finally got through my
consciousness, that the priest, who had so warmly welcomed our little
group of a dozen pilgrims at Granon was the same Father Jose who was at
the meeting. I was quite overcome and, of course, what little Spanish I
have at my command evaporated, so there was no way to speak to him
about it. Eventually I approached him at a time when he was conversing
with Joe Banales and prevailed upon Joe to translate a brief message to
him for me.

This had an interesting sequel during the session conducted by Kathy
Gower. She had us form small groups to have us tell our pilgrim stories
to each other, choosing strangers to talk to. I was conversing with a
young man that I had not met before and decided to tell him the Granon
story and about remeeting Father Jose at Santa Barbara. The problem is
that I broke down and had trouble getting the words out. That must have
been quite a ridiculous sight - the crusty codger crying as he tried to
talk. My wife, Connie, was sitting along side of me and became rather
alarmed. She tried to console me, thinking that I was feeling bad.
However, I wasn’t feeling any sorrow at all. They were not tears of joy
either. There was obviously some strong emotion choking me up, but I
can’t pin it down. - Something occurred to me just this moment. I
remember waiting in line to put my hand in the depression in the tree
of life and seeing a young woman nearby fall to her knees with her pack
still on her back and start sobbing copiously. It appeared to be tears
of joy and she soon recovered. At the time, I felt sort of deprived. I
didn’t feel any sort of emotion like that. I had arrived the day before
and had not bothered to go to the cathedral until my second day in the
city. I was probably experiencing some post camino depression, which is
not uncommon. I assumed then that the difference in my reactions and
that of some of the others was a faith involved thing. Maybe not. Maybe
my own feelings were just repressed and came out almost 4 years later.
Perhaps that is why I had the compulsion to make repeat journeys.

Well, I have gone on much too long. I had been asked to do some sort of
report on the meeting, but I am sure that this was not what the
requestor had in mind. It is mostly just something that I had to get
rooted out. Now maybe I can get some sleep. It is almost 6 A.M.

Regards,

Bob Spenger

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