Since there wasn’t going to be anyone around in Toledo for the weekend (okay, that’s not entirely true) and since I was planning on going to Lourdes at some point anyway, I picked the first weekend of May. I bought my expensive train tickets because I was tired of buses (and I would have to take the train once I got to France anyway). I booked Hotel Saint Cristophe (they are all named after saints and things there) and kind of looked up things to do in Lourdes. I’m actually not all that well informed about Bernadette and Lourdes and stuff, but I know the basics. And, I wanted to see the original Grotto (to my mom’s TTK friends and others not directly affiliated with ND: there is a replica of the Grotto at Lourdes on Notre Dame’s campus). So, even though there was no one to go with me (sorry Aunt Peggy) I went anyway. Clarification: the semester at the Fund is long over and everyone is either gone or doing their whirlwind final trips across Europe, so there was no one left for Lourdes.
So, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to take the 6:00am bus to Madrid and then board the Metro and get across town in time for my 8:00 train to the French border. I had enough time to buy my ticket to Sarria, where I will start the Camino de Santiago. There was some slight confusion when the guy thought I was asking for tickets to Soria, which is very close to Madrid and not the kind of thing you buy tickets for almost a week in advance. So, all the ticket people laughed at me, but I didn’t really care. They put an accent where there wasn’t one and thus their syllabification was all wrong. I boarded my train, which was a high-speed train to Hendaye, where Franco screwed with Hitler’s mind. Look it up, I did an internal assessment on it junior year of high school. And now I’m bummed because I realize that I did not take a picture of it. I only had five minutes to change trains, due to some confusions I had while booking the trains, so I did not have time to convert my receipt into a ticket. No matter, I was getting off in Bayonne and that was only forty-five minutes away and by that point, they still hadn’t gone around to check tickets. It did confuse the ticket man in Bayonne however, because it’s kind of weird that I made it to Bayonne without a ticket.
I went to go to the bathroom in the train station and the lady was just finishing cleaning it. She left the door open and I started to go in, but saw the floor was soaking wet and decided to just go in whatever restaurant I ate lunch in. This is important in a few minutes. Now, Bayonne is in the French Basque Country. According to wikipedia, it is the birthplace of mayonnaise, so I am sure that it is some sort of culinary mecca, but I chose the Doner Kebap across from the train station, figuring I would actually be able to order something. Turns out, it has no bathroom. So, I eat quickly and head back to the train station. Well, the train station bathroom charges you twenty euro-cents. I had gotten in before because the cleaning lady had sneakily left the door open for me. The guy that went in the interim (who probably got in for free) was not that nice. It wasn’t the kind of bathroom door that would give you change, and so it didn’t take my euro coins. So, I was stuck roaming the streets of Bayonne, looking for a bathroom. After reaching the brink of tears and encountering a mean concierge at the Grand Hotel, I finally found a free bathroom on the street, that cleans itself after each use. It has a twenty minute time limit, though, so I guess that’s why it’s free (I don’t want to think about why there is actually a time limit and why they chose twenty minutes). So, that was one problem solved. However, in my trek to find a bathroom, I was not paying attention to where I was going and now I was lost on the streets of Bayonne. Fortunately, it is a pretty small town. I ask a woman for directions when my train was going to leave in twenty minutes and then ran. I got on the train five minutes before it was schedule to leave and felt very foolish for working up a sweat and running down the streets of Bayonne while my backpack pulled my shirt up and my pants down. Oh well, when am I going to be in Bayonne and see those people again?
I arrived in Lourdes and went to my hotel. No one answered. Oh dear, not a Milan repeat. Did I mention that it was pouring rain and I had left my umbrella and raincoat in Toledo? Oops. I bought a Lourdes umbrella in the train station, which ended up being really cheap, but at least it lasted me through the weekend and only turned inside out about 10 times. So, I sat under the awning and waited. Just as I was giving up and going to call them (the numbers didn’t work, so I didn’t get charged more than a few cents) two people walked out of the hostel. They didn’t hear me or something. When I asked the one in the cowboy hat, he just shrugged his shoulders. Oh well, I had a room. I changed out of my soaked clothes and ventured out with my pants rolled up (I don’t care). I went straight for the Grotto.
Now, Notre Dame tour guides say that the grotto on campus is a 1/7th or 1/8th scale model of the original. This is false. The original is definitely not seven or eight times bigger than the ND version, but it is definitely a different shape, it’s got a bunch of little caves and the stream running through. They are the same general concept, however, and it was definitely recognizable. If you want an idea, google image them, the statues of Mary are about the same size. At Notre Dame we say that there is always someone praying at the Grotto, which I have found to not be true. It is true, however for the Grotto in Lourdes but the cool thing is, there is usually a line to get into it (You can always sit outside it but to walk around and touch the walls, so usually have to wait your turn unless it is after 1:30 am and before 5:00am). I went through and then went to dinner. I found an Italian restaurant that gave me free water, which doesn’t happen in Europe. Unfortunately when I left, I realized that they probably had expected a tip, so I didn’t go back. I went to the Marian Procession, which is a candlelit rosary in at least five languages. It was nice, but it was rainy and wet, so I didn’t feel up to staying for Mass at 11, especially since I was tired.
I woke up Friday to more rain. Great. I rolled up my pants and got out my trusty umbrella and headed out. I went to the two basilicas on top of the grotto. There is almost always a Mass going on there! I walked into a Spanish Mass, where the highlight was them singing the “Our Father” to the tune of “The Sound of Silence”. I have to admit, I was unable to control myself at that one. I went down to the other basilica and there was a Mass in French, so I came back when it ended to take pictures. This basilica, the Basilica of the Rosary, has a beautiful mosaic for each mystery of the rosary, so I took a picture of each. I went up the hill and found the stations of the cross up there. They are a series of gold-painted, life-size statues that are probably made out of plaster. There was this one couple that took a picture of the woman with each station. I don’t understand that, I mean, it’s not a picture you would smile in (and she wasn’t) but whatever floats your boat I guess. I did take some pictures of the stations I though were especially well-done. For example, when they lay Jesus in the tomb, they used a real cave on the side of the hill.
The Fourteenth Station: Jesus is laid in the tomb.Everything closes from 12-2 for French siesta (which ends the same time the Spanish siesta starts, how cute) so I went to McDonalds for lunch. It’s weird because I refuse to eat there in the States, but I have no problem doing so in Europe. I went shopping and though I was unable to find a rosary I liked in the Palais du Rosaire, I found one across the street. It was a strange mix of comforting and disconcerting that there were so many stores with religious goods. I mean, I don’t think St. Francis of Assisi would really be selling four-foot long glow-in-the-dark rosaries, but it’s kind of nice that they are trying. By the way, some day I will probably regret not buying one of those rosaries, but that day has not yet come.
I went back to the grotto because they have a rosary at 3:30 (hence my rush to buy the souvenir). Before it started, I checked out the baths. You can’t get in unless your are involved in the bathing process, and there is of course a long line. (Of the three entrances, men, women and children, guess which line was the longest?) I was not “with it” enough before leaving to arrange anything about helping bathe and had no interest in waiting in that long line when I wasn’t actually sick, so I just walked by admiringly. I had some time before the rosary, so I went back into the Basilica de Rosaire to warm up/dry off. There was a beautiful choir singing and I got to listen for half an hour. When we prayed the rosary, it was in French, so I said it in English under my breath. The English version has way fewer syllables, which was disconcerting because I kept feeling like I was missing parts of the prayers I’ve know since birth. I don’t think I was. I tried to find the Eucharistic procession, but somehow failed. Maybe they didn’t have it due to the rain. I did go to their ending point, the Basilica of Pius X, which is underground and bears a slight resemblance to a parking garage. I think it was mostly built to fit lots of people. It does have lovely stations of the cross however. I went to get dinner (a sandwich take-out place) and brought it back to my hotel room. The plan was to take a nap before that night’s Marian procession and then stay for Mass, but I felt like I was coming down with a cold and didn’t want to go out in the cold and the rain, so I stayed in my room, which was actually very pleasant.
Saturday I woke up and went to the funiculare up Pic du Jer, since Lourdes is in the Pyrenees. The mountain was beautiful to say the least, especially since Saturday was such a beautiful day. I didn’t want to wrap my jacket around my waist, but then I realized the only people around were French teenagers wearing matching sweatshirts and eating cheese from a can. So I did it. When I went to the bathroom at the bar the funiculare company had built on top of the mountain (Laura, I know you aren’t reading this, but I broke out the toilet seat covers you gave me for my birthday) I saw a path with a sign that said Lourdes → so I took it since it was so nice out. After a while I stopped and sat on a rock and said a rosary while looking down at Lourdes in the valley, because it seemed like the right thing to do. After a while the nice rocky path ended and it became muddy and treacherous. I made it, getting pretty muddy along the way, but it was a delightful adventure. Did I mention stopping in the town market on my way to the funiculare and getting a picnic for myself? Because I ate it on the mountain. In French, Pink lady apples are dame rose, which just sounds so cool.
The PyreneesI arrived back to the center of town around two, weh everything reopens, so I went to the house Bernadetter grew up in, which was interesting. It was tiny but informative. Did you know that Bernadette had asthma? That’s why her bed is next to the window. It’s the real bed she slept in during the time she was receiving the apparitions. I went back to the Grotto for the rosary and this time found the Eucharistic Procession (I went to the Adoration Chapel a while before hand and knew that the chapel closed when they processed out of it). We processed mostly in German, which is of course the proper way to process and then had benediction in that unfortunate looking basilica. I was still full from my picnic, so I went to find the other stations of the cross, the ones not on the hill that are more for sick people. Turns out there are two sets, so I went through both. They were along the river, across from the grotto and since it was dinnertime, it was very peaceful.
I bought candles to light in the section next to the grotto (there is not enough room in the grotto for everyone). Four people sent me prayer requests, so I bought five, one for each and one for others/my intentions. Of course, I dropped a candle into the water pool underneath, so I decided to dedicate the Marian Procession to the “Other” intentions. It was very nice, especially since it was warmer out and not raining (I didn’t buy a candle for the procession on Thursday night because I didn’t trust myself with a candle and an umbrella). After the procession, I relaxed by the grotto until it was time for Mass, which was in Italian. I could understand a lot, but it took a while for the microphones to turn on, which was unfortunate.
I hung out after Mass and prayed a rosary while the grotto emptied out a little bit, so I could pay my last respects to the grotto when it was a little less crowded. I then left and went to the train station. Aunt Peggy, you may as well stop reading now. I’ll see you in a few weeks. My train was at 4:35 am and I got to the station a little after 1:00 am, hoping to nap a little before my train in the waiting room. Turns out, the train station closes. So, I sat on a bench in the platform for a while, listening to my iPod to drown out night-time noises. I played games on my iPod and my electronic Sudoku that I got from Yankee Swap on Christmas Eve (thanks to whoever put that one in) said a rosary, this time for my own safety, but that only got me to 2:00 am. I was starting to get cold and wanted to walk around to warm up, but I didn’t want to just walk around and draw attention to myself, I felt the need to walk to somewhere. What is the only thing in Lourdes open past 1 am? Expensive hotel lobbies and the Grotto. I chose the grotto. Besides, the bathrooms at the train station were locked and I knew I would be able to use them at the Grotto. It took a while to get there since they close all but one entrance after midnight. It was a cool entrance, on top of the hill and you walk down to the candles. There were a few people there when I got there, but they soon left. I had come to the grotto to be around people, but it was okay, because I didn’t feel like I was alone. You know how people tell you “You are never alone. He is always with you”? This was the first time I actually believed them. I said a rosary and it was about time to head back to the train station. So, I said goodbye to the grotto again. Cool thing is, I was able to get a grotto at night with no one in it picture.
The Grotto. 3:00 am.I boarded the train with no problems and made it back to Toledo at around 4:00 pm, after not having eaten since 4:00 am in the train station (yay vending machines), so I went to Doner Kebap, quite exhausted. In the metro in Madrid, there was a family (parents, daughter son). When their stop was approaching, the mom and daughter went to one door and the dad and son went to the other. The mom and daughter teased the 2-year-old boy by saying “Bye! See you Later!” and he became worried, asking his mom where she was going. She told him she was getting off the metro at the same time as him, but he wasn’t sure if he could believe her. When they did get off in the same place, he let out the most adorable squeal of joy and ran to her. Another boy, older than that was wearing a t-shirt with a picture of Jesus that said “Haced lo que os diga” (“Do what he tells you”), which is what Mary says during the miracle of the Wedding at Cana (water into wine). This was very cool, because they talked about it all the time at Lourdes and the front of the Basilica du Rosaire is a mosaic of the wedding at Cana. Kind of a cool way to end the weekend, huh?
PS Most of you probably don't know what I'm talking about but there are these wooden bracelets with pictures of saints or Mary of Jesus and stuff on them and I got one in Lourdes. I go a stone one, since it looked more legit. However, it's magnetic or something. It's some kid of metal that I am apparently allergic to because it burns when I put it on. So, let me know if you want it. I should probably figure out my allergies. Does anyone the difference between 14kt gold and 10 kt gold? Because I've never had problems with 14 kt gold, but i am mildly allergic to my class ring...don't worry, I've built up an immunity to it.
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