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Published: July 17th 2013
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Giant Esplanade at Fatima
Absolutely massive main square, that can hold thousands of pilgrims. Basilica of Our Lady down on very end. Had a minor set-back this morning, the first of the trip (I've been waiting for it). Happened when I accidentally got on the wrong bus out of Lisbon, one going South when I'm heading North. But I quickly realized my error, told the bus driver to kindly pull over as soon as possible, grabbed my luggage, hailed a cab, was rushed back to the bus station, boarded the right bus, and miraculously arrived in Fatima with no real damage done. I factored enough time into my schedule at Fatima that I actually left on the bus I wanted to in the afternoon. No harm no foul.
This event, though, has made me think of many things, mainly about how travel is truly an odd combination of intense planning and calculation, almost down to your every step in a town, and then, on the other extreme, also unmistakably driven by sheer gut feeling. This morning, I just knew something was wrong, like I couldn't sit still in my seat. I didn't know I was heading in the wrong direction, but I could certainly sense it. I also credit this morning's series of unfortunate, but nevertheless miraculous, events to the little St.
John Paul II Statue
When Pope, he had a special fondness for Fatima, and visited 3 times. Christopher icon I bought at the monasteries in Northern Greece last summer. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers, and has, like Veronica, one of those great names. Christ-opher literally means the bearer of Christ, stemming from when Christopher helped the baby Jesus across a river, and the little infant said to him, basically, now you're called the bearer of Christ. St. Christopher also pops up in nearly every major cathedral in Europe. He's the giant statue, usually with a walking stick, that has the baby Jesus on his shoulder. I always make a point of finding him. He's guided pilgrims for centuries... and I guess I'm on a type of pilgrimage.
So, thank you St. Christopher, and I made it into Fatima okay. Oddly enough, Fatima itself is probably the most religious site in Portugal. This is where, supposedly, the Virgin Mary appeared to 3 little children in an oak tree in 1917, telling them that peace was coming (WWI was raging), among other things. This is where the Our Lady of Fatima comes from, which actually is the name of the church my Grandpa Joe used to attend. Nearly immediately, pilgrims started to flock to the site,
Walking the Esplanade
To the right, in the white pavilion, is where the vision occurred. Now a nearly perpetual Mass is said all day. Imagine hearing Hail Mary's right now echoing through the square. and nearly every Pope since has been here. It really is a holy place, in the sense that, with all the religious fervor going on, and the nearly constant Hail Mary that echoes throughout the giant square, your back tingles, and you feel as if something miraculous might actually have happened here.
Afterwards caught another bus a bit farther North to Coimbra. This is the Oxford of Portugal, with the 3rd oldest University in Europe, from 1290. It's also just a beautiful city on the banks of the river Mondego. I was tired, though, so am saving the major sights for tomorrow morning. Had a nice evening just lounging at cafes, drinking lots of coffee and beer, and eating pastries and cod. Might sound gross, but truly hit the spot. Also enjoyed people-watching. The Portuguese are very funny people to watch.
Tomorrow it's the sights in Coimbra and then my last stop in Portugal, Porto.
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