Pilgrim

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I’ve been lightening my pack all day, ounce by ounce. Sorry this had been such a theme the last couple of days, but I’m the girl who drives around with a car as my closet. I slung on the pack and walked through St Jean this afternoon, and saw this fine pilgrim. The medieval pilgrims traveled with a staff, a cloak, and a gourd for water. No high-tech fibers for them! But they walked the same streets of St.Jean, and the Camino. Tomorrow morning I’m off to Orisson, my first stop.

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Categories: June 2013, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , | 4 Comments

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4 thoughts on “Pilgrim

  1. Melindaland

    I do remember your Hemingway fixation and your “pilgrimage” to La Closerie des Lilas soon after we first got to Paris in 1978! Glad it’s not the Festival of San Fermine there in Pamplona, so you’ll not be tempted to try running with the bulls… 😉 women do also run now.
    Hope to meet your “Natty-Dreads” Jesus doll some day, sounds great!

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    • Haha! We went to Paris in 2010 and visited more sites, and had dinner at a cafe in the building where Hemingway used to write upstairs on the 3 rd floor and where Verlaine died…I also saw where we stayed on the Left Bank: Hotel Brasil!

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  2. Melindaland

    Love the pic of the pilgrim with his Middle Ages man-purse (AKA scrip), he’s got that Egyptian-style frontal+side+3/4-view and such flat feet, poor guy… Great shot of you and Hale. Many fond memories from seeing the UC EAP luggage tag…Eurail passes and all our adventures. Now you’re about to make so many new great ones, Go Beth!

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    • Dear Melindaland: thanks for the art history critique of Señor Peregrino! He looks similar to my very cute Jesus Doll, which you haven’t seen…he has “dreads” and sandals, and he was our children’s program mascot at Trinity. I’m doing fine, having a great time in Pamplona for 24 hours, waiting out the rain with 2 of my new friends, from
      Chicago. You remember my Hemingway fixation, I’m sure…we ate lunch at his restaurant, and saw where the bills run. Tomorrow we’re following the yellow arrows out of town.

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