I can’t say it because it has no meaning. A void is a space occupied by nothing and emptiness means objectively nothing even though to me is a painful reminder of a permanent loss

Somewhere I read that less than 10% of “Irish people” live in the island. My first impression tells me that all of them live either in their villages or somewhere else in the world…at the same time.

I am back from southern Ireland after four days driving in the left side of many narrow road, of enjoying the hospitality of Susan’s relatives in Cork and Waterford counties. My judgement is just an intuitive opinion that reaffirms the positive impression left by those“Irlandeses” I have met in El Camino.

He caminado más de mil kilómetros. Solo y acompañado. Con extraños, amigas, mis hijos y mi nieta. He subido a Cruz de Ferro con Susan y bajado a Rabanal del Camino con dos ángeles disfrazados de perros guardianes y he presentido la presencia de Gladys en camino al fin de la tierrra.

No he hecho más que caminar por senderos que millones en mil años han peregrinado. Un paso tras otro es lo que hecho y en ese simple humano caminar he construido, encontrado o descubierto una narrativa que le da sentido a ese largo caminar que es el existir.

He comprendido que la vida nos más que pixeles sin sentido pero que vistos en su totalidad adquieren sentido a quien tiene ojos para verlos, emoción para sentirlos y fe para creer que somos más que este momento.

Viktor Frankl dijo que la vida no tiene sentido y que uno le da sentido a ella. Yo discrepo, la vida tiene sentido y uno lo encuentra buscando las flechas que señalan el sendero.

Soy Peregrino

… Going to Lisbon.

Reykyavik ( Keflavik) airport feels like a IKEA bubble in the moon. Somewhere where to catch a shuttle to planet Europe.

A freezing tarmac welcomes me always in the darkness of the nordic morning to expensive Iceland on my way to Paris and beyond… to El Camino. Today with Isabella and Gladys was not different than in 84 with her. But today we flew to CDG and now to Lisbon and walk El Camino Portugués. To remember her and fulfill a promise I made almost a year ago when I began this journey

Day One

March 19th

I have seen the ocean swallow the sun in Finisterre… alone… and lonely but free returned to Santiago. It was the journey’s end of a pilgrimage of Reconciliation and Redemption in the Camino Francés that began in France fifty one weeks ago.

And then I walked again through Navarra to the edge of La Rioja with Virginia through bright and windy days.

Then one sunny winter day I walked up to Cruz de Ferro with Susan and down to Rabanal del Camino with ” Big Foot” and ” Shorty” our two guardian angels.

And now I am, with my daughter and her daughter in the dark at thirty thousand feet over that ocean, flying to a bridge in the Portugal border to begin an unknown journey to Compostela to remember a beloved Nanny.

But first we must land in keflavik, Paris and Lisboa.

Somos tres en el comedor. Ya es pasada la medianoche y en la mesa de al lado cena y conversa alguién en un idioma extraño. Entonces somos cuatro. Dos más dos