Yesterday in the Fondatión Pierre Gianadda, there was an interesting exhibit about the pilgrimage route from Canterbury to Rome. It was the first time I had seen it displayed. I had read of it, but the routes to Santiago have always been foremost in my mind and I still have many to complete. If I survive long enough I may one day attempt the route to Rome.
Later I went into the church in Martigny and was sitting quietly contemplating at the back. It’s striking how quiet the church always is. The silence almost hurts. Sitting in the church is something I seem to do every time I am here and almost always I have been alone.
Today an older man came in by the side door. He was dressed as a pilgrim and had a backpack, and on it was the pilgrim’s shell. He stood still for a long time at the front – perhaps for ten minutes. He never looked around. When he left, I immediately went out to find him and talk to him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
This morning when I was passing through the outskirts of Martigny, on my way up the valley to the Col de Forclaz and on to Switzerland, I saw the same pilgrim in the distance, ahead of me. Although I walked as quickly as my lame leg would allow, before I could catch up with him, he turned left onto the path to the Saint Bernard pass and Italy. When I reached the turning, he was out of sight.
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The upper end of Martigny, where the path to the Saint Bernard Pass turns left and that to the Col de Forclaz continues right |
Was that a sign of where my personal path is leading me?
The Irish Rover 