an Ode to Authenticity?

To live true and not doubt being oneself from every point in life. To trust that there is a higher level of Being which can be achieved and never question its means of taking me onwards.

***

The day in-between. It's Saturday. And I have a focus. Not the blinded Thursday. Or the troubled Friday. When will I learn? When will I change? But our session was good in the morning of  Occupational Therapy... bonafide?

Two days porridge. First you boil a kettle, then you soak the oats overnight in the boiled water, then you chuck in any amount of fruit, spices, etc., then you bring to the creamy simmer. Then you eat still warm, but not scoldingly hot alongside brewed coffee and then you switch off the podcast and turn to the journal before facing the door and the day.

***

Leaving Leeds Station in the predawn; it was raining as I left Lovell Park Grange to walk down Albion Street to New Station Street and the main entrance to the Station: Manchester here I come; I hope it lives up to the hype?

***

Oh it did. Thank God I finally connected with some like-minded folks. It was a valuable day. The key speaker was a revelation too. My aches and pains are of nothing next to her resilience. Thank you Carol.

***

Monday morning. Heading to Reus this afternoon, but have Lola once more. Yesterday I was with her all day. She was happy, I know. Running and playing on the Ings in the partial sunshine.

It was cold in the night. And it's a clear sky this morning over Wetherby. Collecting our lass around 8 from my sister's before I head to the allotment, briefly?

***

No allotment. Good morning with Lola in the autumnal sunshine. Caught the bus around noon. Just eaten a Margherita pizza and a pint of Welbeck Abbey Red Feather in Tapped. It's 1345. What next. Back to the flat or hang around? The flight is at 1800.

Cue. Craving. Response. Reward.

***

I realised main cue, whenever I reach a large conurbation is to feel lonely... Then I crave company. My response is to drink. The reward is drunkenness!

And all hidden delights; I will not crave them. I won't drink in the airport or in the plane. It's expensive and useless. I've brought Dr Karg's crackers, bananas, a flask of lemon water and Atomic Habits...

***

Oh the joy of an empty cabin, Venus setting in the west, a waxing moon and a playful toddler.

***

And then a shared taxi. No buses after 9pm from the airport, but there are three flights after 9pm all from the UK. That's a taxi cartel. 18.50€ wasted on the short hop from the airport and I shared the journey with a Romanian truck driver from Leeds who was visiting family... I think he was too late for any bus or train out of Reus - he was heading to Lleida. 37€ for a 15 minute journey...

A broken night's sleep. In these small 'apartments' - a room stuffed with everything including the kitchen sink the proximity to the fridge, flashing lights and the goings on of the other occupants in the block... But I came straight to the apartment. So I slept; somewhat?

***

Quick consultation with the weather reports and it appears I will have torrential rain as I 'um and ah' for a couple of days. It's coming across Spain from Madrid.

I gathered my limited baggage and disappeared into the pre-dawn for the usual; it appears I bought mouthwash tabs not tooth tabs yesterday... That's why it felt so wrong? And I was being organised in those hours I was killing along Boar Lane not failing for those cue.

So now I am drinking the first coffee of the day. The apartment did nothing for me; it's 7am.

***

Wednesday

Day one from Tortosa...

This the day I seek my present happiness, and look on nothing else except the thing I seek.

7:30 and back in the refectory in the monastery on the hill overlooking Jesús. I am well rested. The torrential downpour helped, but the one mosquito didn't (until I learnt to accept her)... It's a few bites and I brought antihistamines...

I don't think I am the only person in the huge albergue, but it is possible? I think it's officially closed, but they let me in...

An easy day to start this short progress along the route... A couple of hours just as I notice some injury to one of my toes which I must've picked up while out with Lola on Monday morning? I don't recall...

The "hermana" on duty allowed me to have a coffee and a couple of yogurts (but I didn't pay for breakfast as it was 9am and I wanted to be long gone) and then I walked back to the bottom of the pueblo where I was meant to stay last night... The central Forn artesà(Carlos Ripollés) for café solo, Vichy Catalan, a baguette(which I snapped) and a bag of Batata Dulce... Ipomoea batatas done properly... Roasted until they become creamy and sweet. Delicious!

***

Had a break within the old station area of Aldover. Café solo and Vichy Catalan. On the way out I spotted some ripe looking pomegranate so I ate it - seeds and all.

Figs, carobs and pomegranates.

After a siesta, and after lunch, after an early lunch(1pm) and the starlings agglomerate, fixed in the roost in the trees above the Plaça Major, Xerta where I know those Asiatic mosquitos are enjoying my ankles...it's 1900hrs.

***

I retired, but woke up in the short bed frequently so I moved to a sofa then I became conscious of church bells, fridge noise and, finally, I got up as the cockerel started broadcasting to Xerta.

Coffee, yogurt and porridge.  I am a little tired now. And I don't know if I should stay an extra night here, as it's quiet(if I can get a longer bed) and only 25€. And so far I haven't paid.

An extra night. I am a little anxious this morning. And the chattering starlings ... A noise I forgot since Newcastle upon Tyne. They used to roost around the Green Market. It's good here and I didn't look around... The Ebro is at the end of the lane opposite the Alberg.

And it massive. It's the longest river in Spain travelling from Cantabria and around Xerta it's obviously carrying a lot of water from across the north of Spain. It has mountains feeding it all the way before it reaches the delta at Deltebre, where they grow rice in abundance.

***

The rain came down just as I was entering the front door of Alberg Xerta. It's a relief not to be sodden and not sure of the next place in which to stay on the cheap. 25€ is within my budget, but 80€, for a three bed apartment in Bot, isn't. It's Friday tomorrow. I know that I could return to the solace of the convent I left yesterday or I could retreat to Amposta and the Alberg Peregrino... But first a brief lunch of fried eggs and tomato on bread (Pa amb tomàquet) and another one of the baked sweet potatoes. Siesta as the rain continues to run in torrents through the carrers.

Before the next rain I returned to pay for both nights and then made a plate of white beans to complement the half baguette I was carrying since yesterday. To be on the safe side I asked the host if I could return here if I needed on Friday and it's no problem. So I walk then catch a bus to where I can afford. And then on Saturday go to ... No idea. It's a short trip to unwind. The walking is unnecessary... Time to make a cup of tea.

It's a shame I didn't sleep well, but it definitely is a blessing in disguise with the downpour of today. There is no way I'd have made it to Gandesa over those hills and mountains with heavy clouds and rumbles of thunder.

***

There is a pilgrim passing this way this evening, so I am definitely coming back this way, and the host cooks food on Fridays... I am definitely coming back this way. Will I get to Gandesa? It's not the reason I came. I came for a break from dogs. I love dogs though.

The cockerel is crowing. It's 6:30am. He was silent all night.

Full moon high in the sky and plenty of stars spread across the firmament. It was colder in the night. I awoke around 6am without any breaks in sleep because I wasn't aware of the church bells and the bed was long enough.

Day Two? Yes I am walking again. Off I go again. Down to Cal Portal for two bocadillo, café solo, Vichy Catalan and a huge bar of Xocolate... €11.50.

***

Enough peanuts. Enough vino. That was a long way to catch the bus back; perhaps because there is a Peregrino in the Alberg Xerta? No its because Gandesa was average at best? Yes an agricultural town. I found a brilliant sports club(founded 75anos) and enjoyed three beers and two chicas from Colombia and two chicas from Peru; similar but different.

Walking through the many 'tunel' was interesting at first and then tedious at best. I suppose the highlight was no lights and the torch provides on the smartphone and virtual blindness elseways... But I got to Gandesa. If I had a little more time I would definitely reach Caspe. In Gandesa the national Rally car championship had wiped out all the accommodation and it's a wine hub so I would've felt tender today... The hosts made a fantastic 5 course meal which sent me to Lalaland. Going up the gorge was more interesting, after Fontcalda. But I ate too much meat yesterday so vegetal today... 

What to do today? It's Saturday and I probably need to be closer to Reus, but not in Reus. But I've most of the day to head back via Tortosa... 

First shower since Tuesday evening at the convent. Fresh clothes too. One more night. Back towards the coast? I looked at Caspe, but I think another time as the bus isn't until 10:35 and then I'd be back in Xerta to reach Tortosa and Reus.

I have a memory of staying in a hostel on the coast where some Indian guys were playing cricket on the wasteland opposite... Was that here or somewhere on the coast of Portugal? I don't know! But first café solo and Vichy Catalan. Back the way I came on Wednesday? Let's see how I manage with a slight hangover listening to the hubbub in the bakery Forn Cal Portal.

***

It was a long morning coming back to Jesús, but now I am in room 12 of the Albergue Maria Rosas Molas where I can reclaim tranquility. I recall Sally from the bar recommending a curry house... Which I saw before I found the solace. A comfortable bed, a clean room and a happy hermana to show me the way...

***

Good curry and good siesta. But just now I chose a beer instead of a coffee. The beer tasted odd so I returned it. The decision to not drink. I had one with lunch and a Vichy Catalan. I am still at that crossroads. I make good choices and then bad ones constantly. It was a good idea to stop in Jesús instead of pondering with the coast line and nowhere to lay my head. The best bed is the final bed? Only there is some noise coming from either above or alongside me so that might be a problem later?

***

There was no noise. It was silent. The final night, this time, in this part of Catalunya, and not the last time! Phew, no cockerel this morning, but a little breeze blowing as I perform my toilet. Whatever noise there was yesterday came back briefly, but only just before I got up. Staying in a convent or monastery is definitely ideal as the emotions are calm and it spreads. The Alberg in Xerta was comfortable, but there were outside noises to disturb and the central square was totally distracting. The other convent was silent except for the buzz of the mosquito and the rain. The place in Reus was noisy - the neighbourhood and that fridge... Certain noises disturb me even when 'harmless' which I think is a consequence of my age? I notice things more...

Too early for the complementary breakfast at 7:30am - served after 8:30am - and I noticed the bakery is open from 7am. It's a good bakery Forn Carlos Ripollés (circa 1925) with the bakery behind the shop: give us this day our daily bread. I also want to complete my journey back to the estatió in Tortosa along the Via Verda so I can say I've walked all the way from Tarragona, down the coast, to the end of the Ebro/Ebre delta and up to Gandesa. Next time it's from Gandesa or Lleida, which was the other route I've taken to join up with the way in Aragon, which passes Zaragoza and connects near Logroño, another time.

***

Waiting for the bus(13.50€) direct, express, in estatió d'autobusos, which leaves at 9:50am and arrives in Tarragona in an hour. The long return begins.

***

If nothing can be taken at face value what is the meaning of anything if the meaning is a hidden layer which must be uncovered? It's a riddle... but why construct a mirage, fabrication or place a mask over reality? I know, you know, but you can never know unless you can unravel the net I hide behind... Then I walk away. What's the point of humans hiding intent in the 21st century or is that all that's left? Bring back the simple truth without the mystic.

***

All the time I walk I am seeking the opening which I once saw within me, but which now seems elusive. Perhaps I am looking for it too desperately in all manner of pursuits, trivial or otherwise? Still I ponder what it is I am aimlessly searching for because it was the one thing which made me feel a calmness which was truer to me than anything else I seek outside. The morning bliss. The birdsong and the dawn. It's ephemeral. On the eleventh floor the sound is swamped in the swarm of traffic noise, but on the path it is singular and redeeming.

The thing I see is love. Which is total. Why can't I embrace it? Why am I so stubborn?

OK now I go and walk dogs. It's a simple affair where nothing is hidden.