The Seventh Test

Magnificent Montserrat

The Black Virgin was found here at the Santa Cova!

Follow in the direction of the sea which is surrounded by earth. Close to a big city, a legend says that the angels came down from the skies and sawed the rocks to build a throne for the Black Virgin who is found there.

I had figured this location prior to leaving Vienna, and although it was uncharacteristically way down south from Paulo's usual Camino hunting grounds, I was convinced that I had guessed this correctly.

Having solved and completed the test at Sos del Rey Catholico, also taking my photo at the "The Wall", I had continued on towards Jaca, and as light was fading, I had decided to spend the night there. I drove around for a while trying to find somewhere to park the car, and having done that I set off to search for an Albergue that was open at this time of the year. Take several wrong turns in the narrow alleys of Jaca, I finally found the Albergue, just before it was about to close it's doors for the night. The lady at reception was not entirely happy to see me, and once she took me upstairs to show me the dormitory and my bed, I became aware as to the reason why... I was alone... not a single soul in the building!

She remined me of the rules, and said that she would stay the night and would lock the door behind her at 22:00 pm, not returning again until 09:00 am the next morning. So I prepared for a 'dark night' absolutely alone in this huge building.

As I still had 30 minutes to spare before the doors were closed, I dashed out to buy some food and drink, as I had not eaten anything all day.

I made it back just in time for the lady to say good night, and lock me in. I felt more like a prisoner that a pilgrim.

Having fed myself, and cleaned myself up, I rolled out my sleeping bag and climbed in, grateful to have found a bed for the night. I slept without stirring and awoke to a beautiful sunlit but cold morning. The lady had not yet arrived but I decided to pack my things a go downstairs to wait for her. I noticed however that the door opened in one, outward direction, so I picked up my things and depated the empty Alebergue.

First having to scrape the ice off the car's windscreen, I then headed off in the direction of Huesca and Zaragozza. Many of the road swere unfinished but the journey went well and in about six hours I came into the viscinity of Manresa and Montserrat.

The first glimpse of the bizarre mountains out of which the sacred alter of the black virgin was supposedly carved, was awe inspiring. I had never seen anything quite like it during my wordly travels.

I new that the Cathedral held the original of the Black Madonna high up behind the altar, but the Quest's test was to take a photos at the place where the Madonna was found, so I made my way down the steep amd winding path to the Santa Cova. A beautiful but strenuous walk of about 35 minutes led me to the place where she was found, and I arrived as a group of Hungarians were being ushered through the tiny chapel. Fortunately a Japanese lady was here to take photos so I asked if she would so kind as to take my picture. I returned the favour and then sat in silent meditation, to reflect on my journey thus far and to give thanks. I lit a candle for those no longer with us, and made my way slowly back up the steep path to the main Cathdral area.

According to Catholic tradition, the statue of the Black Virgin of Montserrat was carved by St. Luke around 50 AD and brought to Spain. It was later hidden from the Moors in a cave (Santa Cova, the Holy Grotto), where it was rediscovered in 880 AD.

According to the legend of the discovery, which was first recorded in the 13th century, the statue was discovered by shepherds. They saw a bright light and heard heavenly music that eventually led them to the grotto and the statue.

The Bishop of Manresa, present at the discovery, suggested that it be moved to Manresa, but the small statue was discovered to be so heavy it could not be lifted. Thus the Virgin had indicated her will to stay on Montserrat to be venerated there.

By the 9th century, there were four chapels on Montserrat, of which only one remains - St. Aciscolo's, which is in the monastery's garden. In the 11th century, the abbot-bishop Oliba founded a monastery on the mountain of Montserrat, next to one of the chapels. Many miracles were reported through the intercession of the Virgin Mary at Montserrat.

According to historians, it was then, in the 12th century, that the statue of the Madonna and Child was made. The Madonna statue soon earned widespread fame as numerous miracles were associated with the intercession of the Black Virgin of Montserrat.

Many of the first missionary churches in Mexico, Chile and Peru were dedicated to Our Lady of Montserrat and many saints and popes have visited the shrine over the centuries. St. Ignatius Loyola made a pilgrimage to Montserrat after being injured in war, and it was soon after that he wrote his famous Spiritual Exercises.

Due to the great numbers of pilgrims that flocked to Montserrat throughout the Middle Ages, the monastery was enlarged from its original humble size. In 1592, the grand basilica of Montserrat was consecrated.

In the late 18th century, almost the entire sanctuary was destroyed during the Napoleonic invasion. But due to the widespread devotion to the shrine, it was soon restored.
In 1881, Montserrat's Black Madonna was crowned in accordance with Canon Law and proclaimed patron saint of Catalonia by Pope Leo XIII.

My visit here was a wonderful experience and I felt a deep connection once more to the feminine face of God.

Having taken my compulsory photos, completing my task here, I moved on towards and through Andorra into France, where I would spend the night, prior to my encounter with Brida...




   

The Sixth Test

The Wall in Aragon

Sos del Rey Catolico with the distant wall behind

Continue walking toward the rising sun. On a hill in the middle of a plain was born a king whose wife would mark the history of the country where you find yourself. On the top of this hill, look around you: in the distance you can see a long stone wall that is not a wall, it is stone. The wind has fashioned it so that it seems to be the vestiges of an Incan temple.


Your image in front of this wall is the sixth test.


As I had done with all the Enigma tests, I had thoroughly researched this location, and was convinced of the stronger rootes of the powerful royal pair within Aragon. So the wall was in the aforementioned state and not Navarra!

Standing up high at and above Sos del Rey Catholico, and given that the atmosphere allowed a beautiful unhindered view, I could see the wall far off in the distance towards the Pyrenees. I took photos at Sos, then driving on down through the beautiful Aragonian countryside towards the wall I had seen from a distance at Sos. A truly imposing structure reaching high up into the Pyrenean sky. Driving on towards Jaca, I experienced most the beautiful countryside, and a large reservoir to the west (right).

Sos del Rey Catolico was founded in 938 as a border town during the Reconquista.

It was the birthplace of King Ferdinand the II (1452), in whose honor the town, formerly known simply as Sos, took the name del Rey Católico. It is one of the best preserved medieval cities in Aragon! Large parts of the old town are said to look much like they did at the time of Ferdinand's birth. The Palacio de los Sada was birthplace of the Catholic Monarch.

Ferdinand the II married Infanta Isabella, the half-sister and heiress of Henry IV of Castile. The two young monarchs were initially obliged to fight a civil war against Joan, Princess of Castile, the purported daughter of Henry IV, and were swiftly successful. When Ferdinand succeeded his father as King of Aragon in 1479, the Crown of Castile and the various territories of the Crown of Aragon were united in a personal union creating for the first time since the 8th century a single political unit referred to as Espana (Spain), the root of which is the ancient name Hispania, although the various states were not formerly administered as a single unit until the 18th century, but rather, as separate political units under the same Crown.

The first decade of Ferdinand and Isabella's joint rule were taken up with the conquest of the Kingdom of Granada, the last Arab-Muslim state in the Iberian peninsula, which was completed by 1492. In that same year, the Alhambra Decree was issued, expelling all Jews from both Castile and Aragon, and Christopher Columbus was sent by the couple on his expedition (ostensibly bound for east Asia) which resulted in the European arrival in the Americas. By the Treaty of Tordesillas of 1494, the extra-European world was split between the crowns of Portugal and Castile by a north-south line through the Atlantic Ocean.

Violating the treaty that they had signed with the former King of Granada, which guaranteed religious freedom for Muslims, they forced all Muslims in their dominions to convert to Christianity or else be expelled. The only Muslims that remained were architects, who had designed the Alhambra Palace in Granada.


So one can truly say that nobody shaped the course of Spain's history more indelibly than Ferdinand and Isabella! 


I can thoroughly recommend a visit to this beautiful and historic place.

The Fifth Test

The sanctified Pimp - Mon Amigo - Acacio                                                         Paul working for Acacio

Due to the following post in Paulo's Blog, we all had to return to Test Five after February 7th... this presented some wit problems, and for some it was a blessing... Had we taken Paulo's Update seriously, several people would have been sitting outside Acacio and Orietta's Refugio in Viloria de Rioja for two days until they arrived. Fortunately Acacio was reachable by phone, so we were able to learn of the correct date in the end.

UPDATE 18/01: From 18/01 to 05/02 the person mentioned in the Fifth Test will not be there. He will become the Guardian. So you still can continue your journey, and eventually take the required photo after that date. The road does not need to be linear...

Continue walking toward the east. A former pimp gives up everything and decides to shelter pilgrims who adventure out in winter and summer, in the fall and in springtime. Little by little he begins to approach sanctity. The roof of his hostel was donated by Saint Joseph.

Work there for a day. Shelter those who need shelter and care for those who are in need of care.
Your image with this man is the fifth test. 


The image of someone you took care of is also the fifth test.

Having spent the previous night at the Albergue in Santo Domingo de la Calzada, I was able to make a comfortable start after taking breakfast in the only coffee shop that was open on a Sunday, in that historic town.

I arrived, as expected, at 09:00 am, only to find that I was not the first of those who had been waiting for Acacio to return from location number twelve. It was Carolena Sabah, Brida's past incarnation ;) who sat at the large kitchen table with Orietta, Acacio's lovely wife. Of course the surprise factor was loosing it's polish, and we greeted each other in the usual friendly manner... "fancy meeting you here...;)"

I was offered a cup of Coffee and Acacio informed us that he wanted to wait for the arrival of SantiagosDream and two others before explaing our tasks which needed to be fulfilled at his Refugio.

SantiagosDream came soon after, followed by Rosa de los Vientos accompanied by her husband Emilio.

I asked Acacio if he was expecting anymore, and he said no, so we may begin with the briefing.

So in effect we were 4 warriors completing the fifth test at Viloria and our tasks were:

Carolena: Translation of Mantras from a tape deck into written form in the computer

Rosa: Was to be our cook for the day and I knew we were in for a Galician Treat

SantiagosDream: The sorting and washing of some heavy building rocks to the side of the Refugio

PaulfromAustria: To sort and remove nails from beams of the old roof, for use in future as firewood

Poor Acacio was quite apologetic when asking us to complete these tasks, he felt that we were all noble warriors, and didn't want us to hurt ourselves in the process I think. We all completed our duties bravely until around 13:00 when Acacio called us in to lunch, which had been prepared as I said, by Rosa and I'm sure with a little help from Orietta and Carolena.

The meal, made up of typicaly Galician dishes, was absolutely delicious, as could only be expected from our dear Rosa, whose culinary abilities I had experienced in Ribidiso last year when she came down with Emilio to visit me on the last stages of my Camino. Back then she had brought a home made Empenada of tuna fish, andthis time we were spoiled with the delights of vatious cooked meets and vegetables, and an Empenada, with a speciality desert to round the midday meal off. Orietta made us Coffee and we all sat there enjoying each other's company, and the social ambience of that winter afternoon.

Rosa then came in with 3 beautiful Roses. She handed one each to Carolena, Santiago and me, saying "whichever one of you wins, he or she who recieves the Sword, should please replace the Sword with this Rose." I wept inside when she said this, for this was a true warrior fighting for the Sword herself, but it was more important to her that the Sword be replaced by a Rose. Thank you dear Rosa, you are a Rose! A winning Rose at that!

I had comletely forgotten about the Sword... when suddenly Rosa looked at me and said "Paul Go... be careful... but go!" She had seen something that I had not, SantiagosDeam was saying goodbye and making for the door. I immediately woke from my midday dream and scrambled like a world war 2 fighter pilot, with my bags, briefly hugging everyone and saying my goodbyes... I ran up he hill to where my car was parked, and saw SantiagosDream heading off into the distance.

My God, I thought, this is going to be a car race to the finish. Of course I could not know if SD had pinpoited the location of number twelve prior to coming back to number five, but I couldn't take the risk of lifting my right foot. In a small rented and underpowered Peugeot, I drove as fast as I could, not braking for anything, and pulling the last kicks of horsepower out the poor little car. I had no navi system like SantiagosDream had in his BMW and had to rely on my instinct and orientation prowess with good old paper maps.

I drove extremely fast but careful as not to receive unwanted photographs on the way and as not to scare any of the local villagers as they made their way home from Mass. I don't think I would have received extra points for them anyway...;)

I was soon out of Spain and into France, but I had noticed that Police were standing on every bridge that crossed the Motorway between San Sebastian and Bayonne... perhaps they were looking for me?

Well they couldn't be blamed, after all, 170 kph through the small lanes and villages of spain was certainly not their usual experience of driving on a Sunday afternoon.

To my amazement there were road blocks ahead, with flashing blue lights all over the place... OMG they've got me now, I thought, but as I drew nearer they simply wave their hands to slow everyone down, looking carefully into each car as it drove by. Phew that was close, I thought.

So on through Bayonne and beyond in the direction of Toulouse. I held the pedal to the metal not lifting for anything. I did receive a few flashing headlamps from angry Sunday afternoon drivers, but otherwise no other hinderances all the way to Tarbes.

Then then supergau, once leaving the Motorway, I made a wrong turn, which forced me to drive a great distance in the wrong direction before being able to turn around. I lost precious minutes through this move, and hurridly made my way around the ringroad and turning off in the direction of Horgues.

Now on the right road to St Martin, and having checked the location almost two weeks previously,
I was sure that my chances were still good to be the first. As I turned down the small country lane towards number twelve I felt a tingle of excitement, I'm almost there. As I turned the last corner I nearly died... SantiagosDream's BMW was blocking the driveway of the entrance to the gate. The BMW was still hissing and ticking from it's arduous journey.

There was also no sign of SantiagosDream either, which was a bad sign, for it meant he had been alowed inside, because he had shown the guardian all the right photographs. I was paralyzed, shocked, depressed but could not weep!

I rang the doorbell, a futile action with hindsight, but nobody came. I waited an eternity, and finally decided to return to my car which I had parked around the corner. I sat in the car, absolutely numb with disappointment after 17 days of mental and physical exhaustion. It was so important to me to win the sword, not because of any materialistic value, the money was also not the most important factor for me, but I wanted to prove to myself that this old warrior was still capable of a good fight, and capable of winning!

Two figures finally came out in front of the Gate and looked up and down the road to see who had rung the bell. I then walked towards them and saw that it was SantiagosDream and the Guardian, Marcello. Marcello confirmed that SD had all the correct photos and was the first at the gate, so he was the winner.

I  gave SD my hand, congratulating him for this fantstic feat, as Marcello filmed the entire process. He then asked me to say a few words on film, but I was so shocked and lost for words at my defeat. I did manage to say something, but I doubt that it was coherent, so I hope he has errased it since...

The three of us walked inside and I felt as if I were in a trance, still high from all that fast driving, but still numb from the shock of not winning. I tried my best to be chipper, but my efforts were fruitless... I was downright depressed.

We all walked over to the manger on the other side of the lake and once inside, Santiago laid the Rose he had been given by Rosa, in the place where he had previously lifted the Sword... as it turns out... it was his very own Sword... but that's another (his) story...

Well done all those who took part, and all those who worked for the Enigma test locations, and last but least, thank you dear Paulo Coelho for this crazy idea, which sent us all over the place, searching not really for a Sword, that was sysmbolic, but searching for and finding our true selves...

We stopped being who we were... and became who we are... thank you... Much Love, Paul

The Fourth Test

Cruz de Ferro

The cross at Foncebadon

Continue walking toward the rising sun. You will come upon a hill, and on the top of this hill you will find a wooden post placed there by the Romans in homage to the God Mercury. Leave your stone there.

Close to this monument there is a city that I prophesized in 1986 would be reborn. It was reborn.

In the center of this city stands a cross.

Your image standing next to the monument to Mercury is the fourth test. Your image in front of the cross in the city is also the fourth test.

At least I was able to rescue test 4 out of the ashes of test 3... and as I mentioned in the wrong Test Three, I was able to leave my stone and a silk bracelet given to me by a fellow pilgrim on last years Camino, and have my photo taken at the Roman's homage to Mercury, The Cruz de Ferro.

I have now passed this cross 4 times and it never ceases to tug on my emotions. I have left quite a lot of excess baggage at that place on the top of the Camino, and this will, I hope, allow my wings to fly higher & further.

The wrong - Third Test

The real third test - Continue walking toward the rising sun. In a place born from the ashes, a man with two gold teeth prepares a magic potion on nights when he feels like doing this. This potion has the gift of exorcizing evil spirits, and obeys a ritual where fire, water, earth and air are invoked.

Work there for a day. Shelter those who need shelter and care for those who need care. Convince the man to perform the ritual for you and for those who arrive on that day.

Your image with this man is the third test. The image of someone you helped is also the third test.

I was convinced that Manjarin was the location implied by Paulo when he said, "a city born out of the ashes"... this place had given me that impression during my Camino in 2009. I was so convinced, that I even came back a second time to insist on receiving the magic potion. Neither visit was a waste of time, on the contrary, I learned so much from my mistakes and from the interaction with Tomas and his Team, and from those who "just happened?" to be there... but that is another story...

Well I have to begin my report on this stage 3 a little back to front, having first believed that this place was Manjarin and the person, Tomas of Manjarin. I therefore set out from O Cebreiro in the belief that I needed to walk up to a city that looks as though it was born out of the ashes, but apparently wasn't. I walked through the Bierzo wine region, through the wonderful Knights Templar city of Ponferada and on up via Molinaseca, Riego de Ambros, Acebo and on to my destination for the day, Manjarin. It was a long hike and exhausting day but I felt good about having walked, and looked forward to a pilgrims meal with Tomas and his team.

I knocked at the door several times, but no-one came, so I gently opened the door and called to see if someone heard my voice. Still no answer, so I entered the dark and smokey hut, only to be greeted by Antonio, a man as wide as he is tall, who promptly ushered me out of the hut in no uncertain manner. "What do you want?" he said in Spanish. Not a good beginning to this, my third test, I thought, and endeavoured to explain in sign language (2 hands cupped together at the side of my head by my right ear) that I would like to spend the night. Not daring of course to attempt sign language to explain the in and outs of the test I should perform there.

He mellowed within a relatively short space of time, allowing me through the tiny door and muttering what I could only assume were words of rules & regulations. As fate would have it, I was right, and Antonio set a mode d'employ written in the English language abruptly in front of my nose. He continued jabbering in Spanish, although by this time he must have realized that I didn't have a clue as to what he was saying. Never-the-less he did then have the decency to offer me the choice of a cup of tea or coffee. The day previous, someone had warned me about the coffee, so I accepted the tea with gratitude. We sat in silence, I drank my tea and rather hoped that an English speaking pilgrim would wander by soon.

Alas, as it grew darker with the fading sunlight, it became clear that I was to spend the niht alone with this little round man. He had seemed far more friendly on my way through the year before, perhaps because he was able to sell me a small amount of souveniers and keep sakes.

At last the door was flung open and in came Paco, Tomas' right hand man, or was it it left, I can't remember...? and Paco greeted me with a friendly smile as Antonio muttered a few words of explanation. I asked if Tomas would be coming to supper, which was of course important if I was to fulfill my quest by insisting that he perform the magic potion ritual. I was told again in sign language of course, that Tomas was attending a Hospitaleiro conference in Leon and it is doubtful that he'd return that night. So I prepared myself to expect 2 nights in this little hole in the wall, near to the summit of the Montes de Leon.

Antonio showed the stairs to the loft bedroom, where, to my surprise, a young girl was sitting and reading what appeared to be a religious book. I said hello and she replied with a nod and a brief smile. I continued to lay out my sleeping bag and unpack a few things. The girl's face was familiar to me and I remembered that I had seen her bording the bus in Santiago. We finally began conversation, and E M (full name respectfully witheld) explained that she had completed the "Camino" a few days hence, and was returning partly on foot "to a few important places" as she put it, on her way back home to Valladolid.

To me, she appeared very religious, and interestingly, she then asked me if I was. I said that I believe in one unexplainable God, and that my God is all things to all men and women. I fact, I said, God is within us all and each of us is a significant part of the whole universe. A great mystery to be accepted with humility, wonder and a great deal of love. I told her hat I acknowledge the beliefs of all who live on this beautiful planet, but do not allow myself to choose one religion or the other as a medium. I do not require a medium, as I believe that I have a direct connection, and anything along the way would only slow down the speed of... Light!

I then asked her if she too was religious, tears formed in the corners of her eyes and she jestured with her palm, first upward and then downward. The poor dear was in a state of flux, and was searching desperately to make contact with her divine spirit. I said let's go and drink some tea, and she followed me down the stairs to the old kitchen with its wood oven and the hundreds of pictures of Tomas de Manjarin, who, as predicted, had still not returned to the highest Albergue on the Camino.

In keeping with the little round man's book of rules, Tomas did appear punctually for supper at 20:00 and we sipped soup and ate home made bread... but drank absolutely no alcohol...;) We were joined by two more pilgrims, Renate from Germany and Gregorio from Spain.

Given that Tomas had a long day behind him, it was quite obvious hat I wasn't going to get my Ritual that night at all. So I resigned once more to possibly having to spend a second night in order to convince him. With that, it was off to bed, with a stern reminder from Antonio that we were not allowed (and we obeyed, for fear of being hung drawn & quartered) to stir before 09:00, which for me is an absolute torture when you consider that I usually get up at 05:30 every day to make my beloved daughter's breakfast & lunch packet.

The night began peacefully enough, until the dogs began to howl at the moon. A further disturbance of the night peace was caused by the ladies week bladders, at seemingly regular intervals. I wondered how Gruppenführer Antonio was going to react to all this tooing and frowing in the middle of the night. Finally dawn arrived, but it was still only 08:00, but I thought that if I'm quite enough, I certainly wouldn't disturb anyone... right...? wrong...! As I attempted to creep slowly downstairs, I was met by a very angry Gruppenführer, who promptly gave me the blame for "everything" that had been going on the night before! There's no justice! ;(

Needless to say, the atmosphere at breakfast could be cut with a knife, and I decided hat there was just no point in trying to remain for a second night under these circumstances, and hoped that Paulo would not be too hard on me, for not having achieved the Magic Potion Ritual?

Paco had offered E M a ride to Foncebadon, because she had to reach Astorgo in time for her bus to Valladolid, which left at 19:00 pm. She asked me if I wanted to ride in the trash container behind and given the circumstances of the night before, I quickly accepted the offer.

But I still needed that photo with Tomas, and EM said "look he's coming down the road, you're going to get your desired gift!" I wasn't so sure myself, but anyway she spoke to him, and he led us to an Indian Teepee up the hill. Inside was an altar with various religious figures, including Madonnas and a smiling Jesus. In addition, he had a treasure trove of glistening Templar Swords, and for a second I thought, perhaps he'll give me mine now? ;) Of course that wasn't the case, but he did allow E M to take a photo of the both of us in the tent. I was fairly satisfied that this would suffice, and made my way to Paco and his car, to make the daily trash dumping and water collection run to Foncebadon. I climbed in the back with the trash, and after an emotional farewell with Tomas, E M did the same and joined me for the ride. I asked Paco to stop at Cruz de Ferro to take a photo and drop off my stone.

Upon reaching Foncebadon, we disembarked, stinking of refuge, said our goodbyes to Paco and continued on down to Astorga. I still needed the photo at the cross in this desolate village, so E M kindly obliged and whilst I was repacking my rucksack, she timidly expalained that she was in a hurry and needed to be going if she was to make it to Astorga in time for her bus. I told her not to wait for me and that if she wanted copies of the photos I had taken, she should give me her email address. She politely declined and disappeared slowly around the bend and down the hill towards Rabanal. I continued reshuffling by bag, whenI saw a figure coming back up the hill about 500 meters away. As the person drew nearer, I could see that it was E M and upon reaching me, she said briefly "perhaps I will give you my email address... you never know?" She hugged me, turned and walked back from whence she came. I never saw her again that day, so she either hitched a ride or ran all the way to Astorga... bless her!

It was a lovely day, and I continued at a comfortable pace down the path toward Astorga. Having walked some 3 km I decided to take a break at a water trough and took out my Blackberry to look at the photos I had taken so far. To my utter amazement, the picture at Cruz de Ferro was missing, gone without a trace! Still in shock, I raced back up the hill, past Foncebadon and on up to the iron cross. I seemed to fly up there and upon arrival, I was glad to see that a couple of tourists had gathered, so I asked one of them to take my photo, a couple of times to be on the safe side. Once cross checked that all was saved on my chip, I headed back down past Foncebadon and on towards Astorga for the second time that day. I passed several pilgrims coming up the hill and this reminded of the ordeal one year ago. I visited the places I had rested last year, including the beautiful old oak, into which's trunk I had placed a heart shaped stone. The stone had unfortunately been removed, but I hugged the oak and whispered that it had my heart always.

I arrived in Astorga around 19:00 and hoped that E M had made to her bus on time. I found the local Albergue which was fortunately open, and reserved my bed for the night.

The next day I took a bus to Burgos and as the bus was just about to enter the city, I decided to contact my dear friend Rodrigo, who I had met on the Camino last year. He answered, thank goodness, and was absolutely thrilled to hear my voice. He said "wait there for me, I'm taking the day off and we will go out to lunch together with his wife Victoria". Such spontaneous and wonderful people. We talked over lunch and they listened with amazement and wide eyes as I told them about the Quest that I was endevouring to win. "You can make your base camp here, in our house" they said, and I didn't have the chance to say no. So I did something that I have found it very hard to do in my life thus far... "accept hospitality or anything for that matter, from others".

The Second Test

Hugo from Quebec, Canada

The Holy Grail at O Cebreiro

The second Test:

Walking toward the rising sun. in the mountain that was given the name February, I found my sword in front of the Holy Grail.

Stay there for a day. Talk to the third person you meet.
The image of the Holy Grail is the second test. The image of the third person you meet is also the second test.

On January 22nd I got up early, as usual, and made my way with the morning commuters of Santiago de Compostela, to the bus station which is situated on the town's periferal road.

Upon learning that I had some time to spare, I headed for the cafeteria, looking forward very much to my first Cafe con Leche of 2010. Sitting there, amongst other travellers, in the brightly lit coffee shop, I began to think back to May of the previous year. It was here that I began my homeward journey, and I found myself comparing my feelings of then, to those of now.

I remember thinking that I would definitely see this place again one day, not knowing how soon or the reason why. It was almost like coming home, because Santiago gives you that warm welcome feeling. I had done full circle, and it was a similar feeling to the one I had last year, first in Lourdes, and once again in St Jean Pied de Port, prior starting out on my approx 900 km journey.

This time it was to different, not only because I was starting my journey in Santiago, the place where I had finished in pain the year before, no, this time I felt like a little boy when he goes off on an adventure. Although quite sure that I had done my homework for all Paulo's cunning exercises, consequently in the comfort of my office, I felt a buzz of excitement in my veins, and was eager to arrive at the location of the second test... O Cebreiro.

A mysterious and old celtic town with it's quaint houses of straw rooves, O Cebreiro had not given me the feeling I had expected after climbing from Vega del Varcace via La Faba last year. I had therefore continued onward in the stiffling heat of that May afternoon, and beyond to Fonfria. This time I was preparing to spend the night, and to make an attempt to"catch the spirit", which for some visitors is apparently unmistakable, and perhaps I'd even see the lamb ... again?

After the 4 hour bus journey from Santiago via A Caruna to the small town of Pedrafita, which lies some 5 km, in the valley below O Cebreiro, I started slowly up the hill, happy to be walking again after all the sitting thus far. It was still raining and quite foggy, usual for Galicia and the time of year, so I made haste for the Albergue which lies at the town's exit to the west. The Hospitaleiro, a woman of 40 approx, was surprized to see that the last stamp in my pilgrims pass was made in Santiago, "You didn't walk all that way today?" she said, "No, I took a bus naturally!" I said and she kindly showed me the room with hundreds of bunk beds. "Take your pick!" she said, "we're not expecting too many more today!" she continued, with a smile.

I unpacked my things, laid out my sleeping bag, sat on the floor looking out to the hill with the cross, and perused Paulo's test for this location once more. Being the perfectionist that I am, I pondered the implication of Paulo's words, wondering if the 3rd person could be someone that Paulo had placed there to proof our impeccable honour and verify our attendance at the location... "of course not" I mumbled to myself, "absurd to think that such would be planable during an event which is basically open until the end of the year".

So I waited patiently for the second and was intrigued to learn who the third person might be. A small group of mixed nationalities arrived, returning from a small shopping spree in the villages quaint souvenier stores. They were happy and loud, but number two didn't appear to be among them until they headed once more out of the room to the kitchen. Then one of them said "hello, where are you coming from?" and after a brief dialogue, he followed his friends to make supper.

A second group arrived, having also done some shopping and one they had laid their wares o their beds, one of them came over to me and said looking out of the window into the foggy late afternoon "Hello, I'm Hugo, a mysterious place this, isn't it?" "it certainly is, quite an atmosphere" I said. After a while of small talk, Hugo asked me if wanted to join his small group for dinner. I accepted gratefully, but said that I had to go in search of the Holy Grail before supper. With that I dressed for the inclement weather once more, and headed for the small church some 7oo meters on the other side of the village.

Despite the fact that I had already met my "third person", as I walked to the church I expected someone to spring out of one of the small houses saying "Hi Paul!"... silly me I thought, and continued on through the mist to the ancient building at the east side of the village.

As was the case the last time I was in O Cebreiro, the church was empty and I made my way to the chalice & plate, "The Holy Grail" situated to the right of the main alter, beyond a wooden carved black madonna perched on the wall to the side. I spent some time in silence, thinking of family and friends who had passed on into the next, perhaps better, life, and then made my photos of the Holy Grail for my Quest. The information stand is also in the church behind, and as I was about to leave, the lady in charge came in and asked me if I needed my pilgrim pass stamped. I did this, and walked quickly back to the Albergue, where Hugo and his companions were waiting with a simple but delicious supper.

Gildas, Taewook, Wan ho Jang, Hugo and I, enjoyed the lighthearted evening atmosphere and we were the last to enter the dormitory which usually should have "lights out" by 22:00 pm. It was Midnight...

The First Test

In the place where Pelayo saw a rainfall of stars, a city was born between the Tambre and Ulla rivers.

In the middle of this town, an old worksite was transformed into a public square, and in the middle of this square there is a mark on the ground.

The image of this mark is the first test.





The image you can see above is of a carved stone slab which is situated in the middle of the Palazzo del Obradoiro on the west side of the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela and marks the arrival point for weary pilgrims who have finally completed their journey on the Camino de Santiago... The Way of St James the Apostle...

Having completed this journey during the previous year, it was not difficult for me to solve the first test of the Enigma, but it was somehow strange to arrive this time without pain and wearing fresh clothes. It was pouring down with rain on January 21st and I spent time walking around the Cathedral and thinking about my father, who's birthday it was.

Given that 2010 is a holy year "Xacobeo" on the Camino, filled with celebrations, the East Door of the Cathedral, "The Portal of Forgiveness", which normaly locked - early it was walled in - was open, and I made sure of taking this reare oportunity to walk through the famous Arch. Tired as I was following the early start and flight from Vienna via Palma, I decided to head for the Albergue and rest. 

Being out of season, I was out of luck, as the Albergue in which I had stayed last year, turned out to be closed for renovations, so they kindly told me that I needed to walk some 5 to 8 kilometers out of town to one of the few hostels which had remained open. 

Still pouring down with rain, I headed off into the night and arrived just in time before they were closing the doors for the night. Exhausted but happy to be making the journey, and happy to have solved test one, I fell asleep very quickly...