2003

One of the best things about Toukley Parish was the parish team, which had Mercy Sister Eileen, youth minister Fiona and family minister Alison. Three strong and capable women who challenged and supported me in ministry and with whom we had a strong collaborative ministry team. 

Unfortunately what was missing from that team was our parish priest, whose lack of interest in working collaboratively was one of the first red flags which made me have concerns about him. On its own it could be innocuous, but together with an over investment of time in events with (I won't say ministry with) children including regular camps away, and lack of interest in other areas of ministry made me start to have serious doubts. A couple of other things which I won't write of here were enough to make me express my concerns firstly to my vicar general and then to my bishop. 

Alas I turned out to be right, and years later he was convicted and jailed for offences against with children (which took place elsewhere). I'm glad I recognised some warning signs. I'm glad I spoke up. I think I'd kick myself if I had lived with him for two years and didn't see or say anything. 

These were the less happy remembrances on today's leg of the Camino, but I am so so happy to be back on the trail after a day's rest and having been ready to give up yesterday. Mykey and I met at 6.30am to start walking, each of us nursing the same injury and needing to go slow as we left Pamplona. 

It was a beautiful morning, leaving the city in the pre-dawn darkness and then seeing the sun come up behind us as we ascended the hill up to Cizur Menor. The sun cresting the eastern sky illumined streaky contrails and lit up the rows of sunflowers with golden light. 

Another hill led to a pilgrim monument with silhouettes of of past pilgrims on horseback at foot, made famous in Martin Sheen's The Way film. 

I also saw people taking photos of piles of hay bales which seemed odd but I realised that there was also a scene in the film featuring these, and The Way has formed so many people's imagination of of the Camino. 

But I was entranced by the parade of wind turbines topping the ridge. I have always loved wind turbines and find them majestic and beautiful ever since a scene in Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later where, after so much running from the zombies the heroes drive along a deserted motorway with wind turbines spinning gracefully in the background as Ave Maria  plays, a rare moment of beauty in the midst of an otherwise chaotic and scary film. 

So, having never had a chance to be so close, I went up and gave one a hug. I placed my ear against its trunk and listening to its soothing hum before walking on to the town of Puerta La Reina for the night.