Chapter 13: Out Over the Atlantic

A chance encounter leads to a Sunday dinner at the home of strangers - and lesson in how to convince someone to get up from the table and walk the Camino with you.

Up ahead, of me I spot an elderly couple walking their dog on the asphalt path. They are in their mid-seventies. I approach the couple from behind, excuse myself, and ask them for help. They turn around, and stare at me like a ghost. For a moment, they don’t say anything. They just stare. And then it dawns on me.

They know me.

I know them.

I know their dog.

*

If they had not told me how they knew me, I might not have remembered, but a hundred and fifty miles to the east, a week or so earlier, and a half-lifetime ago, I introduced myself to them on a whim.

I had stopped with three other pilgrims beneath a large oak tree in a small parking across from an ancient church. The four of us were eating lunch and resting in the shade. I was working brick by little brick through a very large bar of chocolate.

An elderly couple across the way pulled in with their dog and a small open top trailer. They started to set out a small picnic lunch. I went over and offered them the remainder of my chocolate b…