Sometimes when I’m running errands, I like to pop into my local church and just sit. I’m not particularly religious, but I overthink my day, say thanks and sometimes – when I’m in an exceptionally spiritual mood – I chat with the universe.
There is something lovely about churches (and mosques and temples, for that matter). They hold a quiet. A piece of mind. A just sit and be. A welcome home.
I closed my eyes.
That’s when I noticed it. The church – which is under renovation – didn’t smell like the usual candles or incense. It smelled like paint. It smelled like an artists atelier, complete with a hint of dust on the floor and soft filtered light floating through matte windows.
Time to write an introduction to the Scotland trip I made with my dad last month. With your dad? you might think. Hell yeah with my dad!
You might have noticed from previous writings that I usually travel alone (and love it). So being in almost constant company while on the road – sharing cars, bedrooms and bathrooms – is a bit of a challenge for me. I’m used to doing things my way, and that’s not entirely what happened in Scotland.
I tried to draw my mom and me from a picture for mothers day. It didn’t turn out as good as I hoped… I really regret having done the outlines, it looked better without. But then there’s no ctrl Z on real paper…
I thought it would be nice to do a hand made gift after all those years. Because you do it when you’re little, remember? You make this useless things in kinder garden and your parents have to pretend to be super stoked about them. But then, I do agree that there is a value in hand made things that can’t be found in a bought gift so… Outlines or no outlines, it’s still better than what I did 28 years ago 🙂
And so I walked the last day of my first Via de la Plata. The clock had switched to daylight savings recently and, with that, walking in darkness became a thing again. I enjoyed the absolute quiet. Staying in an albergue alone also means walking alone, and with the nearest towns over 10km behind and ahead of me I knew I’d have the Camino all to myself. Soon came the sunrise.
I talked out loud to the hazy colours – the blue hue that had enveloped the trees and grass. I talked to the birds singing and to the flowers slowly opening up to a new day. I talked about travelling.
My second to last walk went from Alcuéscar to Aldea del Cano; a short 15km. My legs felt strong and the weather was perfect: clouds cast some shade, it wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. Yet for some reason I was having a though day. The sky felt oppressive, the air didn’t seem to supply sufficient oxygen and my mind was hazy. I figured it had something to do with the nearing ending of the Camino. I remembered feeling lost and sad on the Camino Francès too, when Santiago came within reach. Surely, you’re happy to have made it. But when you enjoy being a pilgrim as much as I do, the foresight of finishing the journey and becoming a non-pilgrim again isn’t so joyful one. It’s a mixed feeling that catches many walkers a little of guard, but not me. I’m an experienced pilgrim now. Right? Continue reading Two important updates have been installed→
Visiting Merida didn’t take as much time as I expected. My initial plan was to stay for two nights, one in an AirBnb and the second in the pilgrims albergue, where I’d meet up with Canadian C and German R and we’d walk on together. However the city didn’t appeal to me that much at all. After strolling around a bit and eating a mediocre meal, I spent the afternoon drawing in the Roman theatre – which is absolutely lovely. The next morning I continued my pilgrimage.
My take on the world and the things I love. Prominently among them: travel, art and the ordinary. I share my discovery of our beautiful world, my self and the arts I'm trying to develop (photography, sketching and writing) in a way that is both honest and poetic. Please join my journey.