A rebel without a clue.

Well I slept perfect until a flyover around four am - we're close to Hahn Airport here - feeling the persistent pain in my right shoulder I always struggle back to sleep once I'm awake and so I got up around six thirty. Everything is dried and repacked. Suddenly I feel a little weary. This is mental as well as physical: fatigue is a deep weariness. On  The Way I've been looking for some answer around the next bend, but it's impossible! Outside is not where the lack I perceive is - which I've told myself so often (once I recall the foolish notion that anything outside can cure me). To be consistently in touch with being on  The Way  is possible, usually the weather does help - although it shouldn't - but I set off with the forgotten ideal yesterday so almost got myself into difficulty. The difference this morning is I didn't sleep with the misdirection of having to endorse local beer! In Kirchberg, because it screamed local brewery, I was lobotom...

Today was a challenge. From the very first moment the heaven's kept tanking down on me so I couldn't take in any of the Roman remains or little deviations suggested along the Römer Straße. The one village I passed through for lunch wasn't an option as the Gasthaus wouldn't be open until five. When I'd just about lost it, and took a wrong turn, a bus shelter came to my rescue so I could change out of an exceedingly wet base layer. The lady from the Pilgerherberge yesterday did say that there was nothing from leaving Kirchberg until I arrived in Gonzerath, but when she said nothing I kind of thought she meant something, but just not very much! My breakfast wasn't enough and what I brought with me was cold and not enough. Once I'd changed out of as many wet clothes as was possible I'd just about resigned myself to trudging hopeless with yet another storm blowing straight at me! Because I really needed to reach Hochscheid, in the hope it housed s...

Beginning of day five and I'm awake by 5. Had an exceptional night's sleep, except for when I stretched into a full yawn and strained my tendon too much - if that is all it actually is? The pain in all of my arm has localised to a point below the shoulder socket: probably needs an X-ray? Suddenly I'm quite excited by the prospect of following the course of a well researched Roman Road. So few exist above modern roads or are no longer rights of way - as they pass under landowners fields. With a Franziskaner Kreuz around my neck I feel invincible as though it was a amulet with a protective power! Oh, the memories I have of other Camino where I wore it with pride. Although Francis of Assisi became incorporated into the Vatican I don't see that that prevents the simplicity of his original vision, which we very much need in the multiplex layered interleaved world where chaos seems to have us by the proverbials. It's only a wooden semi cross: more like a stylised 'T...

It's telling me to write. Indeed the voice is beckoning me to walk flee disappear. Live rough. Sleep in doorways and beg. Beg food and keep walking. Become homeless. As there is no inevitable end in sight with Leeds City Council and living in hope of a place in the same vicinity as my family what am I hanging on for? Sure I feel utterly meaningless on the eleventh floor, but I do have a roof over my head. Sure I hear the continual traffic noise - bins being emptied at Bagel Nash around five, deliveries being made to the same at another ridiculous hour, sirens from all along the arterial roads (leading up to Chapeltown, Scott Hall, Meanwood) deafening as they flash along Skinner Lane and turn along North Street, but I don't shiver against the lingering cold of a February morning. This is humanities disease: the insane hive. We are forever on our way nowhere to find where we belong. Such speed. Going places at all times. Creating destruction all along the byways and sowing our ...

Tonight I feel truly blessed indeed. Firstly, although I had to wait two hours for Brüder Johannes to return from his excursion with some of the clients, I had time to treat my boots prior to the long day tomorrow. Secondly he was very helpful and provided me with a clean, warm and spacious Brüderapartement - no 16 - where I had a shower (the first comprehensive cleanse since Saturday at Mike and Steffi's in Bad Vilbel. Thirdly he brought me some items for eating tomorrow - namely four eggs ready to boil and a bottle of the German equivalent of Supermalt called Kandi Malz. And, most importantly, he gave me a Franziskaner Kreuz, which I will wear with pride, as well as a blessing for my journey onwards - ulterïa - Gute Weg! So having a small supper, because the Kebap was massive, and having a quiet night in the quiet valley town of Rheinböllen before tomorrow I carry on on the Ansonius Weg towards Trier. If I keep the good vibes going, now I away from Frankfurt, Mainz and Bingen in ...

Yesterday, as I walked and walked and walked, my frustration mounted and was becoming despair as I reached Bingen the long way! Today I'm away from Rüdesheim, the Rhine, Hildegarde Von Bingen and have joined the Römer Straße towards Trier. No more wading through the Rhine by the Alt-Brücke. The means are always possible because I have no control so I must surrender. But what do I need to control? Be rudderless. Trust in The Way to find itself. Walk and be right there. Right here too. Don't allow any threat to breath toxicity where it has no power. Although this problem was inevitable, as I've struggled to just walk without background fears in Germany before, I was gullible enough to expect being this close to the French border they'd be more infrastructure. It's not possible. ... Nearing the end of the huge forest which has been my companion for more than an hour - perhaps two - passing power lines and a large network of turbines prior to following a str...

Two weeks today. I must remember it's only two weeks away. The time between is quite threatening, or is it? This time I want to do the whole distance: I absolutely have to. No thumbing, no buses and no rest days. But it's still only March. So what. Why should that matter? They'll be days of sun and other days. That's the way and I have no control. Where does this fear come from? It's surely a habit only; a regression to yesterday or a voice from the disappeared past?