The Broken

“At first, I was worried there would be a lot of broken people out here,” Marg admitted while sipping a glass of vino tinto under the shade of a bar patio. At the time, we all laughed and agreed. We were all having more fun than expected. Wasn’t there supposed to be some element of... Continue Reading →


The Pessimist

We were huddled under a bus shelter in Paris, barely escaping a downpour and frantically searching a departures board when we met our first pilgrim. His voice was nearly as loud as his florescent orange backpack. “Ye goin’ te Bayonne,” he inquired with a lilting Irish accent. “Yes!” we smiled relieved that we weren’t alone... Continue Reading →

The Joyful

He was sitting on the edge of the highway when I saw him. Cars sped by, but he was motionless. His heavy black robes fell like curtains over his folded knees and a single scallop shell hung from his neck. A wide brimmed hat hid most of his serene face. Must be from an ancient... Continue Reading →


Camino Family

How often do you know the exact condition of your friends’ feet? Well I do. Louise has three blisters on one big toe and a few on the rest. Dave has a couple of blisters that keep coming back because he always cuts the badges too small. Marg is blister free (and we hate her... Continue Reading →


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