NOVEL — THE JUNGIAN PILGRIM

Frieda Tells Some Of Her Story

Chapter Thirty-Seven — Apparently she’s a witch

Image created by author using Imagine AI

Feeling a sense of loss, or maybe because of our diminished numbers, the six of us stayed closer to each other. Following a night in Hornillos, the next night was spent in Castrojeriz, where we began to adjust to the loss of our hiking companions.

In Castrojeriz, I took photos and showed the others how I saw the world through the lens of a camera. I explained how the camera had taught me to see beyond the prosaic, three-dimensional world. Hidden behind our rational three-dimensional world was a more numinous world, which promised untold stories of the past, and of times yet to come.

I hoped that with this sharing, it would bring me closer to the others, and them to me. And so it was, with improved spirits, we began the third day as a smaller group of pilgrims.

Knowing there wasn’t going to be a café until Itero de la Vega, we had all taken a few pieces of fruit to be eaten along the trail. There was no chance of walking the ten-kilometre distance to Itero without a rest stop, as no one wanted to risk blisters on the Meseta.

We arrived in Itero de la Vega ready for coffee and toast. Our stop in Itero was brief, and we soon returned to the…