I passed a long section of fence today where pilgrims had made crosses by inserting two bits of stick or other material between the chain links. It is these little expressions of love that I love about my fellow pilgrims, things that make me feel like part of a larger whole even as the company changes.
I'm learning about the difference between Wanderers and Travelers by watching my fellow pilgrims. I am not a wanderer – there is too much to do. What I am is a traveler. Jay, on the other hand, is happy going about wherever his heart takes him. Sally was in a handcart group for ten years in England. I am not a wanderer like them. I am flexible in direction and goal (as my extended stay here in Europe proves) but my have always been goal driven.
Where does Chatwin fit on this scale? More like me, I think – flexible in direction, implacable in the pursuit of that direction. Rimbaud is more the other way.
I’m watching an old Western in the café with all the old local men – one of the characters is named Santiago. “Mas Alta de Rio Grande;” it has a hero with a perfectly mournful face. I love that a movie set in Mexico needs to be dubbed into Spanish.