Before returning to the Via Podiensis to complete the final 300 miles to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, we decided to stop in Lyon.
We made arrangements with two people we had met on the first part of this journey. Two people who, although they did not know one another, somehow found their way into our hearts during those weeks on the Camino.
One was Axel, a notary and attorney whom we met on our very first night. It was one of those chance encounters that seem so ordinary at the time, yet somehow become part of our story. We would cross paths with Axel almost every day after that. Sometimes we walked together for a while; other times we simply exchanged greetings along the trail. Eventually, he moved ahead of us, but our paths kept intersecting with surprising regularity and he began to send us daily messages about wonderful things to see in the upcoming villages.
Seeing a familiar face on a regular basis was comforting. On a journey where everything is new, where each morning brings a different landscape and a different collection of strangers, these small connections begin to feel like anchors. Axel became one of those anchors.
Then there was Justine.
We met her only once, along with her friend Jennifer. And yet, sometimes a single encounter is enough. There was an immediate connection between us, something difficult to explain but impossible to ignore. She spoke about her newly discovered faith, and I found myself drawn into her story. Perhaps it was her openness, perhaps the sincerity with which she shared something so personal, or perhaps simply one of those inexplicable connections that occasionally happen between people.
I have often thought about that meeting.
It is curious how the Camino works. We set out thinking about the miles, the villages, the mountains and the destination. Yet what stays with us are often the people. Some become companions for a time; others appear briefly, leaving behind something that we carry much farther than we ever walked together. And, if we are truly fortunate, they become life long friends.
Axel and Justine were two such people.
It reminded me that the Camino does not belong only to the person walking it. Each of us is part of someone else’s journey, sometimes for a few days, sometimes for only a moment, and sometimes for a lifetime. We may never know what our presence, our words, or even a simple expression of kindness might mean to another person.
Perhaps that is one of the quiet gifts of pilgrimage.
Lyon wasn’t the shortest route back to the Camino. But it was exactly where we needed to be.
You are loved…
