Lourdes averages 4 to 6 million visitors a year. We are joined by perhaps a few
hundred. 4 out of every 5
buildings here is a hotel. 4 out
of every 5 of those hotels are currently closed (including the one that we planned on staying in). Despite the fact that Saint Bernadette’s apparitions
occurred during February and March over 150 years ago, it’s off-season in
Lourdes. But that’s okay with us!
Though the scene here must be exhilarating and moving when
millions fill the streets, basilicas and park, we feel as though we have
discovered a little treasure all to ourselves. There are so few people visiting, that you begin to
recognize the fellow tourists, seeing them over and over again at various
sites, and the few hotels and cafes that are currently open. [And just as we are about to publish this post, who do we see in this establishment in which we are sitting, but one of the very couples we are referring to (the man with the Ferrari jacket with the girl with the short skirt)!! We have just been proven right.]
We arrived in Lourdes on Friday evening after a very long
day of travel—two trains to get out of Spain, then two buses, then one more
train. The buses were happy
accidents. We had planned on
taking trains the entire way, but the trains that would get us here in the same
day were full, so we were booked on the buses. Though a little disappointed at first, we were happily
surprised when the buses ended up affording a much more scenic tour than the
train would have. We drove through
several charming little villages and a lot of pretty countryside (though it’s
easy to tell that everywhere would be even more beautiful in the springtime
with leaves on the tress), and the switching between connections was effortless
for the most part.
Our time in Lourdes has been fairly relaxed, as there is not
a whole lot to see and there have been no lines for anything. We spent an entire day exploring the
grounds around the three basilicas and grotto. The space is expansive and beautiful, with many
opportunities to participate in Liturgy in some fashion. We went to confession with an
English-speaking priest from South Africa. We prayed the Rosary at the Grotto, washed in the miraculous
water from the spring, attended mass in one of the chapels and prayed the Stations
of the Cross along the river, and visited all three basilicas—the Basilica of
Pope Saint Pius X , the Basilica of the Rosary, and the Basilica of the
Immaculate Conception. They are
all very different from one another and all magnificent in their own way.
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[Disclaimer: Due to the extremely slow internet connection in the McDonald's we are sitting in (Yep, that's right. Apparently only American establishments have WiFi around here...), we are not able to upload any more photos at the moment, so we will upload more when we arrive in Paris (assuming we find a Starbucks or McDonald's...).]
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One of the most interesting parts of this time has been how
empty it seems to be here, and in a lot of ways, how quiet. It is as though the city is almost
half-asleep. We have heard very
few people speaking English, and at the English mass we attended this morning,
there were only about 20 people.
This has afforded a lot of time for quiet reflection and observation of
other pilgrims, all journeying from their very different cultures and
backgrounds to congregate at this holy place and live out their faith, which
belongs to us all. The beauty and
majesty of this place remind us of how blessed we are to be called to the
Catholic faith—to be able to not only appreciate the beauty of these buildings
and rituals and miracles, but to truly be a part of them and partake in
them. This is our spiritual home
as much as any other Catholic church in the world, and it is humbling and
awe-inspiring to realize the blessing of our particular faith.
We have spent a lot of time just walking—through the
grounds, along the river, through the streets, and just looking, watching,
thinking and praying. This quiet
hamlet is a strange mix of a little village, a modern city and a tourist trap,
but with more meaning behind the latter than most places of its kind. It does not seem that many come to
visit here who do not believe in the sanctity of what it has to offer, and it
is refreshing to walk through churches with others who stop to dip their
fingers in holy water or genuflect before the tabernacle, rather than just snap
a picture without thought of Who else is within the same walls.
Every single day, for over 100 years, pilgrims have gathered
after dark to process with lighted candles while they pray and sing the
Rosary The tradition has
supposedly never been broken, and when there are thousands and thousands of
pilgrims here in the summer, it is undoubtedly quite a sight to behold. We knew this was something not to pass
up, so we showed up at the appointed time last night to take part in the
procession. There was only a small
group of people who had gathered, but we got our candles and followed them as
they walked off into the darkness.
To our surprise, all of the prayers were in Spanish and it seemed to us
that every other person there was joining in them. It seemed a little unlikely that every pilgrim present spoke
Spanish but we stayed with the procession because it was beautiful to be a part
of. It was even a gift to not be
able to participate in words because the experience of simply listening and being present in prayer is a powerful
one. But as we were finished the
procession, we noticed a giant group of people gathering for a procession
across the way… It seems that we
had joined a private group of pilgrims for the first procession. So, we went and joined the giant group,
which we are pretty certain was the official one (though the appealing thing
about this place is that very little is “official” in the way that it would be
at home), even though it was being led by a visiting group of pilgrims who
spoke Italian. When it was
finished, we took our candles to the Grotto and left them to burn there. Above the candles, in many languages,
is the beautiful phrase, “This flame continues my prayer.” It was truly a beautiful experience and
one that we are very glad we participated in. Plus, we had a pretty good laugh about procession-hopping.
In the midst of seeing the sights and participating in the
rituals of this lovely place, we have been figuring out how to eat on such a
tight budget, which involves eating a lot
of tuna packets (thanks to Wal-Mart) with “spoons” from Spain that are actually
just tiny sticks, and sharing pizzas for our “big” meal of the day. But always being a little hungry and
not being able to choose your meal by answering the question, “Hmm, what do I
feel like for lunch?” certainly makes you grateful for what you do have, and
for the fact that you have anything to eat at all. As small as it may seem, it’s been a good lesson in humility
and patience and gratitude. It
turns out you don’t need a lot of
things you think you do.
On a somewhat-related note, the first night we got here, we found one restaurant open. It was a cute little family-owned (though it seems most things around here are just that) pizza place, and after accidently ordering two carafes of wine instead of two glasses (whoops!), we enjoyed the tastiest salad we’ve probably ever had. What made this salad so tasty? The warm goat cheese on homemade toast with rosemary and honey that came with the salad, that’s what! The salad itself wasn’t bad either, but the goat cheese was incredible! And that’s coming from two people who aren’t necessarily the biggest fans of the stuff. We want to go back and ask just for the goat cheese and toast…
We have more thoughts on Lourdes, and random thoughts about random things, that we will post soon. We are off to Paris tomorrow. Au revoir!
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