A Celtic Connection

Im on a train…Scenery flashing by as the sun rises to my left, a large red ball spreading its glow over a barren landscape. The dawn of a fresh new day and the prospect of a wonderful new adventure awakens me. 2 days of travelling is exhausting but exciting. I’m heading south to Granada, Seville and Merida. Looking at this scenery, I could be anywhere in the world right now.

My thoughts seem to be quite melancholy as well, having just read a couple of posts from friends who are grieving the loss of their adult children. I can’t imagine that pain! I’m so far away from family and I miss them. I miss my friends and miss my Australian life, where everything is familiar. It’s exhausting being in a country that doesn’t speak your language. These things are on my mind this morning and although it sounds sad, I am ok. It’s just that reading those posts hit a nerve. This trip has been a very emotional one for reasons I will explain below.

Anyway, as I haven’t blogged for quite a few days, i have much to tell. With Patti away in Italy, I felt a little lost at first, but somehow I seemed to meet people every day. I lit candles in the big cathedral for various friends who are in need of some support and comfort , and feels good to be able to do something to repay people. The candles and prayers worked for me! I’m not the slightest bit religious but somehow the churches here draw me in. I’ve been going to the one where John plays the organ and Stephen sings.

Last Saturday, I went to mass to hear the Irish choir sing. It was a special occasion. After helping to hand out the programmes to the congregation, i sat in a pew in front of the organ. Mass was shared with an Irish priest who I understand came from Northern Ireland. He sat in his throne like chair on a gold braided red cushion, resplendent in his gold robes and when I looked at him, I felt an immediate connection. This lovely man had such a jolly face and I pondered for a minute about what I was experiencing. All of a sudden, it hit me! Stephen was singing the 23rd psalm, my mothers favourite hymn that she requested to be played at her funeral. I reached into my bag to find a tissue ( yes I was crying) and out fell my mothers handkerchief with the welsh flag on it. I was so deeply moved by the whole experience and I could feel mum standing beside me. Funny thing too, I took a different route to the church and passed a flag shop. There was a Galician flag in the window with the welsh lion on it. Yes, mum is with me right now. My celtic roots are strong!

The choir sang some hymns and Irish classics, with a beautiful rendition of Danny Boy and after the service, John introduced me to the jolly priest, Joe Cochlain. Without his spectacular robes he just looks like Joe Blog (an Aussie term for any one) and Irish cap in hand, he spent a good 10 minutes entertaining me with his funny stories and history lessons about our Celtic backgrounds. What a lovely man. As we walked out, I quickly turned and took this photo of the two J’s, and I left feeling my heart full of emotion and happiness. These precious moments are what travelling is all about. You can see the wicked twinkle in both their Irish and Scottish eyes🤣

And so, I’m now on the train heading south. My backpack is heavy. I’m just not a good packer. It is especially hard when you’ve been out for dinner and drinks with friends until the early hours of the morning and you have to get up at 5.30am. I have no idea what’s in the bottom of that bag, but I guess it means that I’ll be doing strength training for the next 2 weeks. 🥺

Oh, and a weird/funny thing happened. I was chatting over drinks with someone the other night and we were talking about tattoos. I told her that my son is a tattoo artist and when I showed her his Instagram page, she said “ oh, I follow him”! What are the odds?😂 James seemed pretty chuffed. Here is his instagram page if you are interested

Jamescaffynart.