Day 75...Jesus and I love you! - 9th September

Up early and left hotel. Sent some mail off, (we are rid of the painting – finally!) and bought some breakky from a grocery store. Nice, cheap and healthy. A six pack of evian litre bottles is cheaper than it singularly in ano ff license, so we are doing that and hydrating well. We drove down thorugh the southern Bordeaux region towards the Pyrenees.

The wine country had many vineyards, but was quite flat and unattractive. Well, not unattractive but not breathtaking either. The Chateaux had an almost Spanish tuscan feel, but there was lots of industrial stuff around too. Not anything like the Yarra or Barossa valleys. We reached the foothill of the Pyrenees by mid afternoon. We drove through Pau, then on towards the town of Lourdes. The Pyrenees form a natural boundary between France and Spain. There are 3 main areas to the Pyrenees. The Hautes Pyrenes is a wild, high country of rugged peaks and ridges, deep valleys and rivers. The most spectacular scenery lies on a long skinny strip – the Parc National des Pyrenees.

It was this area we were aiming for, but would get there tomorrow. Tonight, we would stop in Lourdes. 43km southeast of Pau and nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, it was a sleepy town till 1858 when a 14 year old peasant girl saw a series of ‘visions’ in a cave near town. Investigated by the Vatican, they were claimed as bonafide and she became a nun, then made a saint in 1933. Lourdes is now one of the most important world pilgrimage sites. Well over half are invalids seeking cures. They come to immerse themselves in the wtter of the grotto (cave) where the chick saw the visions. Some ‘miracles’ have apparently occurred. The last – after a 12 year investigation by the Vatican – was declared genuine in 1987. We were lucky in our time of year, as till the start of October – there are nightly candlelit processions of the pilgrims from the Massavielle grotto to the Church front.

We arrived mid arvo and were astounded by the number of hotels! It was small town, yet every building was accommodation. We got a list from the TIC and found a cheapie nearby. I asked the old man at the hotel if he had a room for the night in French. He laughed at my butchering of his language, showing two yellow stumpy teeth in an otherwise empty mouth, but seemed delighted that I tried. He spoke no english but we got by. We fenagled a nice big double room with shower for 29 bucks. What a steal! The toilet was in the hall. Also – it had the first bidet we had yet seen in france! We set off into town.

We (apart from some kids in wheelchairs) where the youngest in town. There were whitecapped heads everywhere and nuns abounded. A lot where leading people by the hand, or pushing people in wheelchairs. Nate said it was the kinda people he’s seen in Sunday church. I, never being to church, was delighted. Accompanying the piety, was an overwhelming display of tacky religious souvenirs. It was great! You could get a Mary shaped bottle to put your grotto water in, or if that wasn’t enough – a big two litre container! Candles and rosaries, fridge magnets and fans, horrible gaudy pictures and placards. You could have christs face on a clock if you wanted. I was fascinated. I have never been this close to Catholocism before (although a gaudy representation of it) and was excited. There was a pregnant anticipation in the air, which got heavier as it got close to nightfall.
We ate a really bad $9 three course meal by the river. It really showed up how amazing some of the food we’ve been eating so cheap has been so lovely. Washed down with some wine and beer, we set off for the sanctuary.

We scored the ‘Holy Grail’ of vantage points, up the top left of the stairs of the church. We overlooked the whole thing. The sky at 9pm was an eerie grey and people were washing themselves at the church. A trickle of people began, followed by a veritable pouring in of people to the site. Much more than we expected! I though perhaps 200 wailing pilgrims, but there were literally thousands! Lots were in wheelchairs, and there was a whole ‘daaaaah hick’ population as well. I felt sad for the ones who had spent their life savings in a final act of desperation for their illness, parcticularly the parents with sick children. But it was also amazing. That number of fervent faithful, in an old ritual I had never seen before. Nuns were wandering the crowds, their candles lighting up the weathered cracks in their kindly faces. The nurse nuns who were wheeling people around were really hot! Young hot nuns. I wanted a photo with an old kindly nun, while Nate said it wouldn’t be bad to be sick and have a hot nurse nun wash his… well anyway.

Everyone had candles, and they began to fill the square. It happened in an orderly procession, up from behind the hill (upon which glowed a full moon over an ancient building) and zigzagged down the street to the front of the church. They followed a lit up statue of Mary they were carrying around on a wooden float. As this happened, there were speeches and songs in Latin (my first latin!), English, dutch and something else. And when they sang, everyone knew the words and lifted their candles during the chorus at the same time. To see thousands of candles lifted into the air was an awesome sight to see, it put the lighters at the Chilli Peppers rock concert to shame! Hee hee. In the background we could also hear the church bells chiming. It was all very cool. When it was over, someone carked it or had an episode or something, as there was a crowd and an ambulance. Then everyone left, lots of old fat ladies in weird carriages pushed and pulled on wheels by 3 men were my favourite. We wandered up with the crowd, through the backstreets of town in the moonlight and went to bed.