Three Letters From Santiago

Insomnia. Lying here in my single bed, in our Spartan Nun’s cell in the former Convent on the square, I feel deep gratitude for this journey's spiritual significance. I move my feet to feel the cold part of the starched white linen sheets.

The thick, ancient walls can’t keep the heat out; the muggy air does not stir. Our pilgrimage has come to an end. Lise and I spent 19 days together, of which 17 were on the Camino, walking for 12 days and approximately 360 km on the Camino Portugués. We spent 5 days resting; we needed them! It’s almost time to say goodbye.

I always regret not telling her enough times that I love her. In the darkest hours of this night, I decided to put pen to paper and, in my inadequate way, say thank you to the three people who shared my incredible journey.

---oOo---

Dear Butch,

Do you remember when I started planning this epic trip? Anna and I were getting all excited; you’d be visiting Europe for the first time; we knew you’d fall in love; you were not so sure. You took your ball home on occasion; it was just fear of the unknown. Your spirit of adventure won the day as you mastered your poles, picking up speed as you glided along!

I know you’re a bush baby, and the thought of spending your holidays hiking a Camino was daunting, to say the least. But you tackled the challenge with good humour and hard work, first by walking on Tuesdays and Thursdays and, whenever we could, hiking the mountains in Hermanus. Who would’ve thought you’d do a hiking holiday in Namibia? But you did it!

I salute you for never complaining, even though you must’ve endured excruciating pain in your knees. You really suffered, yet you pressed on valiantly as you grew stronger and your muscles regained their memory! Well done; instead of becoming disheartened, you took up the challenge with gusto.

It was very special to spend two days on the road with you; it made it easier knowing you had experienced our challenges. You and I laughed, shared the magnificent forests and the ancient Roman stone paths, found a peaceful respite along the streams, and rested in the shade of the ancient Plane trees. We marvelled at the small plots of land and the ancient farming methods, and at how wide the smiles of every farmer you greeted and waved to were. They could tell you were a linguist, a master of Spanish. With a twinkle in your eye and a patient demeanour, strangers felt like friends.

Lise and I are privileged to have had you with us. We experienced a sense of calm with you that gave us the confidence to explore. When I watch you and Lise enjoying yourselves, having that extra one for the road, and when she laughs with such abandon at your jokes and wild stories, I’m grateful that you could, for a very short spell, be the “father” she so needed. The one who encouraged her, believed in her, trusted her and loved her unconditionally.

The example you set and the respect, love, loyalty, deep admiration and pride you have for all the women in your life, especially your Mom, Anna, your sisters, daughters-in-law, and granddaughters, are commendable. They’re Lise's yardstick, enabling her to measure the men in her life by it. With you, she can fly. She has an opinion, and you respect it.

Who could’ve thought a measly prawn would send your journey into a tailspin? That’s the unpredictability of life. We were once again reminded of our frailty as you suffered for a week, which made us more determined to enjoy and make the absolute most of the time we had together. These moments taught us about resilience and the importance of forgiveness, and they reminded us to cherish every shared experience.

You are patient, kind, amenable, clever, a raconteur, a clown, and your generosity of spirit knows no bounds. I watch you sleep, and it always fascinates me that you can put your head down without a care in the world. You’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff and to energise to cope with the big things. Being slow to anger and quick to forget and forgive are gifts you use wisely.

Thank you for being my very best friend and beloved partner; you mean the world to me. Being with you is never boring; I can be wild at heart, creative, quiet or loud, and somehow you make every mood feel alright.

Tomorrow, we say goodbye to Lise, which is always hard for us. Bronny, we’ll see again; both are in my heart. I will miss them deeply, but I look forward to new adventures with you, knowing our bond will carry us through these farewells and into the future with hope and love.

You're ever impossible to fathom,

Maricha

P.S. Thank you for the beautiful Panama hat. Your beret fits like a glove and suits you, as that photographer said when he snapped you trying it on: you lend it a certain je ne sais quoi, like your old patchwork hat. I'm sure you'll attract many favourable glances and comments.

---oOo---

My darling child,

I can’t sleep. As I lie here thinking about our departure tomorrow morning, I realise I have only a few hours left to say goodbye to you once again. You know it’s the worst time for me, so in this quiet place, filled with the ghosts of hundreds of women who’ve dedicated their lives to the Lord, I find the peace to write a quick note.

Thank you, Lise, for being kind, patient and composed. You were the best walking partner anyone could’ve asked for. You have such determination, discipline and guts. Oh, how you made me laugh; sometimes, at the worst possible moments, we laughed until we cried. We had fun, didn’t we? Who would’ve thought a 360km pilgrimage could be so hard yet so satisfying? You are my best friend, and for that I am grateful, lucky and blessed. If given a choice, you’d be my first choice again.

As Peregrinos on this Camino, we learnt a few valuable lessons: the road can be hard; we must never overlook its beauty. We must see the trees for the woods; individuals don’t make up the masses. We must appreciate the surprises. Pain can stem from the smallest hurt and leave the deepest scars. We must be careful with our criticism.

Acceptance can be enough. Sing, dance and choose happiness; it’s free to those who grab it. Life is short; don’t live an unfulfilled one. Choose a glass that is half full. You’ll only regret the things you didn’t do! Years are just a number; we’re never too old to do anything we put our minds to. I wish I’d known that when I was young. It is never too late to start again, to change, to renew or to make amends. Be as translucent as glass if you have nothing to hide. Never compromise on self-respect and treat others with a soft heart and a gentle hand.

You have listened to your inner voice; you’re fortunate to be so wise. You’re a fighter with a spirit to match; don’t be too harsh on those who don’t understand. Let your courage and determination be your strength.

Forgive yourself. Let bygones be bygones. Baggage weighs us down. Put it down by the side of the road. Let your heart be your guide. Be kind, gentle and patient, especially with the people you love; we tend to judge them too harshly. Forgiveness frees us! Walk away from people who can’t forgive; their bitterness is an all-consuming cancer.

It’s almost time for me to get up. Thank you for spending an early morning in Santiago with me; we watched the sun rise over the Cathedral as we made our way to our last coffee, banana and croissant. The early bird catches the worm, and we were almost first in the queue to collect our certificates. We did it, Lise; can you imagine that?

I loved exploring this most beautiful city with you. We could take a moment to sit on the steps and watch life pass by as more Pilgrims, musicians, poets and artists arrived. As the bells tolled, we had to run for a good spot in the Cathedral of St James, then sit on the cold marble floors amongst the thousands of Pilgrims waiting to receive their Pilgrim Blessing. How sweet the sound of the Sister singing the benediction unaccompanied. That surely must be the sound of an angel.

Forever, our footprints will remain there alongside the thousands of people who’ve used the worn marble steps to touch the neck of St James.

At noon, we experienced the botafumerio (the huge silver incense burner) swinging through the soaring Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the highlight of every pilgrim’s spiritual journey on the Camino de Santiago. Frankincense filled every corner of the vast space, gently blessing every pilgrim as it settled on our heads and shoulders. A very poignant moment, one I never thought I’d experience, to have done it with you - exceptional. We were seated close enough to see how the chief Tiraboleiro initiates the swing. (The city of Santiago sponsors the burning of incense for the Pilgrims as a show of gratitude)

Faith is inexplicable; I navigate and negotiate my journey in my old, battered jalopy by faith. To someone else, it may seem wild and stupid; it’s not theirs to reason why or to judge!

Here in Santiago, even the maintenance holes are works of art, and plaques are set into the flagstones; we stood on one with our dirty feet. It says: (my translation)

“Prince Award of Asturias of the 2004 Concord of the Camino de Santiago, a place of pilgrimage and meeting between people who, over the centuries, came as brothers. A human symbol of a European conscience”.

The three weeks with you went by too quickly; it always does. This time I let you go, knowing you aren’t a “child” anymore but a remarkable woman. I know where your heart is; I know you’ll never let anyone break your generous, passionate, wild spirit. You are my rock. Thank you for holding my hand and ever so gently leading me those final kilometres.

We are so proud of you and love you more than my inadequate words can express. Thank you for loving me in all my imperfect frailty. Sleep soundly, my lovely.

Until we meet again,

Your faithful fan who loves you madly,

Mama.

---oOo---

Hello Dearest Bronny,

My beloved, generous, steadfast, loyal friend. You’ve been there for me for a lifetime. When you said yes, I knew you’d move mountains to spend time with us as we celebrate my 60th birthday. Thank you; words can never express how happy I am that you always say yes, no matter your circumstances. “Reliable” is your middle name.

You’re all asleep now, tired after our amazing day spent walking the narrow, cobbled streets of this magnificent city. The immense square is a testament to the ancients’ wisdom. How did they know Pilgrims and tourists would flock here in a thousand years? Vision!

They had it in abundance. Scholars knew that preserving art in holy places encourages artists, artisans, masons, architects, engineers, and even lowly bricklayers to do their best in the service of humankind. Faith. Libraries filled with manuscripts, posters, and paintings depicting their lives, politics, religions, music, philosophies, stories, and history for future, unknown generations. We might not agree with their human frailties, but we must salute their insight and hope for the future.

Just as you and I roamed the streets of Paris and loved every detail, we did so again in Santiago de Compostela. Every nook and cranny we explored, we had coffee in the smallest cafes and enjoyed tapas at the pavement cafes. We’re foodies with heart, and we ravished every plate we ordered unashamedly! It’s good to sit on the weathered steps with my three besties and lick our gelatos with sticky fingers and soggy serviettes.

Tomorrow morning, while you and my sweet Lise are asleep, we’ll hail our taxi. Thank you for staying up the extra hours to accompany her as she makes her way to the airport with a heavy heart. I do worry so.

As you make your way back to your family, know that I am aware of the sacrifices you have made. I thank you, sweet Bronny, with the biggest heart, the widest smile and the deepest dimples. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Yours always,

Maricha

I purchased two pictures, one for Lise and another for myself, as keepsakes, from an artist who has been a Pilgrim on the Camino several times. He’s a wise old owl, and this is what he wrote for me: “Now everything is near: “I have made wings for my feet'” Zamo Tamay.

Our Last Supper was a jolly affair; the server served our massive steak Florentine with much fanfare and outdid himself by striking a match to flambé the traditional Spanish liqueur (one would wonder what it was, with purple flames like that!).

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“The Seven Deadly Sins: