11. Circular Start

Old Rosenheim (Tomasito photo)

11.

Circular Start

So I retrace my steps to where I can leave the canal footpath and then follow a city street toward the Inn River where I still hope I will find a pretty riverside path leading north.

Walking on the city sidewalk and carrying an increasingly heavy backpack, the progress of this pilgrim is mighty slow.

City traffic whizzes by and, though I try to go the shortest way toward where I think the Inn River is, that is not at all the way the streets want to go!

Ahhh! Finally I cross a big freeway bridge with signs pointing the way to Salzburg—and far below, I see the Inn river—but, how to get down to it?

There are rows of trees down below the bridge, which may have shaded a country lane years ago, but now that land is fenced private property-- meanwhile the short winter day is already wearing out.

Slowly, slowly, I pace through a few more highway twists, and arrive at a village signpost proclaiming the village of “Hopping”! Holy Mackerel! (A pilgrim’s swearword!) Now I recognise where I am! I am less than a mile from the house where I started walking this morning—and I’m south of Kolbermoor, though I wanted to go north!

My day-long walk has been in a circle and in the wrong direction !

This is so typical of my pilgrimage style that I just stand there and laugh like a fool!

It’s a good thing I am traveling by myself—if I was leading a group of pilgrims, some of them might be annoyed—maybe even angry!

But since this may be my only opportunity in this life to sleep in the delightfully named village of Hopping, I seek for and find a small guesthouse that is open for business, though the tourist season is long gone.

The Gasthaus has a nice, clean little upstairs bedroom and a bathroom with plentiful hot water down the hall—and since I have some money on this pilgrimage, I can sleep in this cozy room instead of under a bridge all night!

I eat some of the food I’ve brought with me, drink some orange juice (what an elegant pilgrimage!) and, after a short but sincerely thankful meditation, go to sleep swathed in one of those wonderful fat, fluffy, down comforters they wisely use in this part of the world.

Certainly, if pilgrimage were always this easy, luxurious and fun, there would be no one to keep the hotel because everybody would be on pilgrimage!

Tomasito, 2009


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