Here's another excerpt from my 'Pilgrim's Musings'.

On the doorway through the mountain

It was the morning of Tuesday 10th October and my 39th birthday. I was in Foncebadon and the night before had stayed at Monte Irago, a lovely private albergue. I’d been feeling pretty rough the day before, full of a head cold and aching all over, but fellow pilgrim, Maryanne gave me a magic massage and by the morning I was feeling great and raring to go; next stop Ponferrada.

We walked out of the village along a muddy track to re-join the road at Puerto Irago, the doorway through the mountain, and the memorable Cruz de Ferro, a tall wooden pole surmounted by a simple iron cross. At the base of the pole there is a huge mound where pilgrims place stones they’ve carried from the start of their journey. The stones symbolise their ‘baggage’; all the stuff they want to leave behind and move on from or they represent a token of love and blessing. I don’t remember leaving a stone, I know I didn’t bring one from home, but I do remember as I stood at the foot of the cross and wandered around it looking at the tokens other pilgrims I’d left, feeling totally overwhelmed with emotion and a sense of release. It was a cold, misty, incredibly peaceful morning and as I walked away to continue my journey the mist dispersed and I had a clear view across the mountains, west towards Santiago my final destination. I really did feel like I was leaving everything behind, swallowed up by the mist, and was heading towards a new and brighter future.

I celebrated my birthday that evening in Ponferrada with Maryanne and Aidan; there was a new positive energy stirring amongst us. We cooked, ate, drank wine, laughed and talked about everything and nothing until curfew. Crashing into my bunk that night I thought about how we’d had our moment of reflection at Cruz de Ferro, passed through the doorway and were now entering the final stages of our journey, one we were all experiencing in different ways but were also sharing; we were comrades with a common goal.