Tales of Lourdes

Day one

Nothing much eventful happened on the first day as we were all tired from having been up from the early hours.

Nuala and I did manage to drag ourselves away to the café a few doors away from our hotel and had a couple of beautiful cappuccinos and then had a look around the local shops.  Hmm, I'm liking this so far I thought.  

Later on, I had a nap just in time to meet Nuala again for another cappucino.  I could get used to this.  Not much religious stuff so far and lots of coffee drinking.  Magic!

One of the nicest coffees EVER

Lourdes town

If you've never been to the town of Lourdes, its location is stunning.  It lies at the foothills of the Pyrenees and has a mountainous backdrop and is intersected by the fast-flowing Gave river.   Outside of the Sanctuary of Our Lady Of Lourdes, the place is full to bursting with hotels, holy shops, chapels, wall to wall rosaries (ranging from neon plastic ones to ones made from stunning Swarovski crystals), jewellery, candles, soaps, lace, crystal ornaments, fresh lavender, holy water receptacles (some in the shape of the Virgin Mary, others as large as petrol cans and others as delicate as pretty glass bottles) and friendly cafés.  The shops are a veritable treasure trove but on first glimpse they can appear to be rather tacky, yet strangely comforting at the same time.  

The whole place is religion on steroids.

Some of the shops

River Gave in Lourdes

Day two

Mass

Our first proper day in Lourdes and the weather was glorious.  I decided that I would join the other members of our group at Mass in one of the chapels in the Sanctuary.

So off I trundled to Sanctuary.  The place was full of pilgrims and despite the numbers of people milling around, the whole place was completely serene, peaceful and full of warmth and respect.

I must admit to feeling a little apprehensive about going to Mass especially in a place as important as Lourdes.  Then when a couple of people in our group said that I would be able to go up to the priest and get a blessing from him, I was a bit shocked.  'What, me?  But I'm not Catholic,' I said.  Everyone assured me it would be absolutely fine and that all I needed to do was to cross my arms across my chest as I approached the priest.  That would indicate to him that I just wanted a blessing.

As Mass progressed and we got to the point of communion, I was getting quite anxious. What if I messed up, or forgot to cross my arms, or the priest said 'What on earth are you doing here, you heathen', or I shook his hand and said something stupid like 'Hi, I'm Karen, nice to meet you'.  

When I got to the front of the communion line, I crossed my arms across my chest.  The priest looked at me with warmth and love and placed a hand on my head and gave me a blessing.  At that moment, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually felt like I was being touched by the hand of God and that I was looking into His eyes.  Yes, me.  A cynical, non-religious person.  It felt like my heart was going to burst and I started to well up.  I thanked him and then walked back to my seat with tears in my eyes.  I couldn't believe how uplifting the whole experience was.  It really stunned me.

Coach trip to Gavarnie

In the afternoon, Nuala and I had decided to go on a coach trip to a village called Gavarnie up in the Pyrenees.  Much hilarity had ensued amongst our group over lunch about this expedition as one of the stopping places on the way was 'Napoleon's Bridge'.  

Rumour has it Napoleon built this bridge to visit his mistress and apparently any woman who crosses it ends up pregnant.  Now, in my earlier blog I mentioned a woman who had wanted to sit next to me and talk to me when I was half asleep on the coach to the airport.  I later found out that she was a sprightly 80-something year old nun with an absolutely wicked sense of humour.  The nun was the chief instigator of this hilarity and in her dead-pan way started to wind me and Nuala up about coming back pregnant.  Now that WOULD be a miracle at our ages.  She insisted however that she would want to check me over when I got back.

Sure enough, the coach did stop at Napoleon's Bridge.  Should I cross it or not?  Yeah, go for it, I said to myself.  No chance of a pregnancy.  Although, I must admit to walking across it rather tentatively just in case the legend wasn't a load of old tosh after all.

Napoleon's Bridge (naughty boy)

Napoleon's Bridge

About half an hour later we arrived in the pretty village of Gavarnie.  I wanted to go and see the tallest waterfall in Europe there but Nuala and I got side-tracked by alcohol and blueberry pie in one of the cafés so I never made it.  Oops.

Gavarnie

Blueberry pie - delicious

After a gorgeous afternoon in the sunshine eating, drinking and doing a bit of shopping we headed back to Lourdes.  Being a coach trip full of Irish people, there was a lot of lovely Irish songs being sung, with Nuala, being the entertainer that she is, singing all of them at the top of her voice.  It was joyous.

When Nuala and I went down for dinner later that evening, like the pair of big kids that we were, I stuffed a teddy bear that Nuala had bought in Gavarnie up my T-shirt to make out I had come back pregnant.  The look on the nun's face when she saw me stagger in with a massive belly supporting my back was priceless.  (OK, so it was funny at the time.)

Next time...

A trip to Basque country.

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