After arrival and dinner at our hotel in Lourdes, we went to the evening rosary procession at the shrine. I kept getting lost in the praying, with so many repetitions in different languages, at least that was my guess as to what was happening. Hoping that God heard at least my intention to pray, I held my rosary and my candle, and walked with the couple thousand people, including a couple hundred sick, most pushed in wheelchairs or pulled in carts by volunteers
Just before we had to say that we left had Spain behind, we stopped for a traditional Meal of paella: a lot of rice, spice and seafood. We then pass through the Pyrenees, arriving in France. It was a glorious ride through the mountains, as we watched “Bernadette” in the comfort of our bus.
Enough is enough. It is 11:40 p.m. on the clock in the hotel lobby. No more talking or posting tonight. I think I am up to date and up too late. Tomorrow morning after 9:00 a.m. Mass we make the five hour drive from here (Zaragoza, Spain) to Lourdes, France. I should shut down my iPad and shut my eyes. Good night!
The Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of Pilar sitting alongside whatever river that is.
On the walk from Plaza Major to Puerta del Sol (don’t I sound internationally snobbish?) I kept saying loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “Donde esta Starbucks? Donde esta Starbucks? Donde esta Starbucks?” Several people helped: a kid on a skateboard, and and old man coming back from the market. I was on a mission, which was accomplished. The red one is for Paul; the lime one is for Susan.
El Greco’s figures are elongated and rather weird (right, Celia?), but isn’t it way too much fun to see “our” Andrew and Father Jim Bok’s Francis in the same painting, conversing. Notice their hands. What do you think Andrew is saying?
So taken I was with this painting by van der Wyeden in the Prado Museum in Madrid, I excused myself from the group, which was heading on to the Royal Palace, and I stayed in the museum. (My friend Celia will be impressed and surprised that I was spending extra time in an art museum.) The 40-minute walk by myself back to the hotel was a walk well spent.
The number “7” must have been St. Teresa of Avila’s favorite number: the seven mansions of the “interior castle.”
This combination of wood floor and pews reminded me about me being more than a little antsy about how our “new” pews (dark) will look on our “new” floor (light) at St. Andrew. This looked pretty good! If it is good enough for the church of burial of St. Teresa of Avila, it might be just fine for us, too?
This was a delightful place to watch people and have a cup of tea (or whatever) as the clock in the square called out eleven.
With Open Doors 