Visiting Friends and Saints: Venice, Padua, Florence

It was like a foot high.

What a joy it has been these last few days! I have been in Italy for almost four days, and it has been quite a whirlwind.  We arrived in Venice after a series of flights with very little sleep and were immediately thrown into the thick of things. It has been raining in Venice for several days in a row, and so the water levels are super high at high tide. There are walkways that lead everywhere so you don't have to walk in the water. Of course there are vendors everywhere selling these convenient plastic boots, but I wouldn't cave. It was a little crowded on the planks, but we made it work.

So expensive

Some highlights from Venice: this first day was the only day on the whole tour we do not have to sing, and good thing too, because we were all super tired. We spent much time walking around the city and seeing the various famous spots. We got to go to this place where they sold Murano glass, and they had a little glass making demonstration where this guy made a carafe in like two seconds with what appeared to be no effort.  The students were all very impressed.  And then he threw what he made back into the fire as though it were not big deal. We went upstairs to look at what they sold and saw many similar carafes for many many Euros.

Preparing to sing in San Marco's

On Sunday, we got to sing in the Basilica San Marco, which has mosaics covering the entire ceiling. It was very impressive. It was really difficult space to sing in, but we did okay. It was nice to hear Mass in Italian again (though I forgot my book with the Mass parts in Italian). Later that day, the adults and chaperones got some time off while the parents came and took their kids out for the day. With my free time, I got to visit my friend Mandi (who I used to teach with at St. Joe's) and her family, who live at the US Air Force base north of Venice, and who Ed and I had seen this summer in Parma. I had let them know about our Mass at San Marco's and so they came and heard us, and then we went out to lunch and toured Venice for the day. It was really cool to see them again, and we had a lot of fun.

Basilica of St. Francis

The next morning, we left Venice and passed through Padua. In Padua, we got to visit the Scrovegni Chapel, which had these very beautiful frescos depicting events from the life of Jesus and Mary, and this really cool fresco of the Last Judgement. Then I hopped a taxi over to the Basilica of St. Anthony and went and prayed a special prayer for my grandma at the tomb of St. Anthony, since she had had a special devotion to him (which also happened to rub off on me). It was really powerful to be before the actual tomb of a saint.

San Lorenzo

From Padua, we drove to Florence for the second leg of our tour. That evening we got to sing Mass at the Church of San Lorenzo for the memorial of St. Leo the Great. The sad thing about singing the concerts and the Masses in these churches is that we get precious little time to look around and appreciate their beauty, but I guess we see so much stuff that there is precious little time.

Which brings us to today, which began with some epic tours of various museums, starting with the statue of David. It seemed strange to start with David since everything else kind of paled in comparison, but oh, well. But I also got to have a cool adventure of sorts today. So it turns out that the author (Meg) of one of the blogs I follow (piercedhands.com), and with whom I was slightly acquainted (by way of prayer intentions) happens to be on a pilgrimage/speaking tour in Europe and by chance (or by providence, rather) happened to be in Florence today. I invited her to our concert that night and we wound up meeting up for lunch. We had an excellent chat about Catholicsm, teaching, vocations, and Fanta (how European Fanta is so much better than American Fanta). You might say European Fanta is Fanta-stic. Ha ha.  But don't worry, I didn't make that joke at our first meeting (didn't want to ruin my first impression, after all). I've read some of her blog, and she's read some of mine, and so it was kind of funny to jump into conversation with someone new when in a way you already knew each other but not really. After lunch we went to Eucharistic Adoration, which Meg had found in a church earlier that day, which was exactly the thing I needed. Before leaving our separate ways, we made sure to get a selfie:

Blog Power!

San Stefano

The concert at San Stefano that night went pretty well. The students are all really excited and high strung, which makes it difficult for everyone to focus, but that kind of challenge is what makes these things so much fun. I was having such fun singing in this beautiful choir, and I smiled so much during this concert (despite a few rocky pieces). I can't remember smiling that much during any performance. Usually I am so serious. Well, I guess I was still serious, but I was able to let some of what I was feeling shine through. Sometimes I can't believe that I get to sing in such a talented choir, singing the music that I love to sing, and performing it in the context in which it is meant to be performed (the liturgy).

Here in Italy, meeting old friends and new, old saints (and perhaps some new), praising God in song, I have much to be grateful for.

The Return to Rome: Cathedral Choir Performance Tour

So, after many months, I am returning to Italy.  I think I alluded to this return in the blog previously.  The Madeleine Choir School, the only coed Catholic choir school in the United States, goes on a performance tour/pilgrimage every four years to Italy (with tours to other foreign countries every two years in between).  This being my fourth year in the choir, it is the first opportunity to sing there.

One thing that worked out pretty well is that all the great northern Italian cities we had to pass by on Belloc's Path to Rome are cities I'll get to see on this tour.  We start in Venice, then we stop by Padua, then a stay in Florence, then a brief stop in Assisi (where I think we get to sing in the Basilica of St. Francis), and then on to Rome for the final five days.  There we get to sing in St. John Lateran and St. Peter's Basilica (for Sunday Mass, too!) among others.

Right now I am in the airport in SLC waiting to head to JFK in New York, simply hoping I can get some sleep on the plane after a late night of grading, last minute classroom and sub preparation stuff, and packing.  It wasn't technically an all-nighter, but it was close.  And I'm sure that it will be worth it.

I'll hopefully be posting from time to time while in Italy, and if you want to see more pictures than you can see here, you can check out my Instagram.  My username is just lukestager.

Ciao!

A Magical World: A Long Drawn Out Tale of a Single Day of Wandering in and around Fruita, CO

Since the school year began two months ago, I have been just itching for an adventure. While it's true that I've already begin planning my big adventure for next summer, those delightful months are a long way off, and I find myself restless. So, having a four day weekend, I found that the time was ripe. On Thursday morning, I found myself in Fruita, CO at the threshold of country as pretty as heaven.

As usual with all my stories, I must give a preface. A couple of years ago, I found myself watching the Wes Anderson movie, Moonrise Kingdom, which, briefly, is about two kids who run away together and have an adventure. After watching the movie, I found myself hungry for adventure, but knowing that it was late on a Saturday night and I'd have to be back at school on Monday, I knew my options were limited. Really though, I wanted nothing more than to just drive. Though it was about 11PM, I thought I might just drive for five hours, sleep in the car, and then wake up and drive back home. Not much of an adventure, I suppose, but it would do. 

So where to drive? At first I thought I might drive West on I-80. One of these wonderful deserted regions where it's just you and the open road. But I'd been that way before, and, I realized, I'd gone both I-15 north and south. The only direction left was east. I whipped out my Utah state atlas and saw that if you follow I-80 for just a little while, you would get to Wyoming, and there was a tiny town, Evanston, just on the other side. That would be my adventure: to drive to a new state and explore the town just over the border. And that is just what I did. I had only two specific objectives: find a map of the town and find a Catholic church (or discover that there isn't one). 

Now, this was a while back, but I enjoyed the experience so much that I decided that I wanted to explore more small towns. Specifically, I decided that I would drive to the first small town just over the border of Utah at each of the interstates and complete my objectives of obtaining a map and visiting a Catholic church.  So far I've done Evanston, WY (I-80 E), Rupert, ID (I-84 W), and Malad City, ID (I-15 N).  When I tell people I've visited these towns, they often say, "There's nothing there."  Nothing could be further from the truth.

So, this week I found myself on I-70 heading to Fruita, CO.  Wow, that was a really long preface.  I suppose these adventures might seem to some to be quite unremarkable, but to me they are like hidden treasures scattered across a vast land that are just waiting to be found.  There is a certain charm and magic in small towns, and I love discovering it.

I woke early on a chilly Colorado morning in the back of my car to a glorious sunrise.  I'd set my alarm, but the cold was enough to wake me up on its own.  I drove into town to make it to Mass at the local Catholic Church (Sacred Heart).  Not a few locals were just wrapping up the fifth Luminous mystery of the Rosary.  Unfortunately, there was no priest, as he had fallen ill, but they had a Communion service instead.  I was actually quite impressed with the number of people who had turned out for this service, probably between 20 and 30, which I thought was pretty good for such a small town.

After the service, a few parishioners came up to me and asked where I was from.  I just said I was passing through, opting not to go through the convoluted process of explaining my penchant for small town adventures.  I asked one of the gentlemen what is the one thing to do in Fruita if you were going to be here for only a few hours and probably never return.  He suggested visiting the Colorado National Monument, which is a beautiful series of canyons and rock formations that one can drive through and enjoy in about 2-3 hours.  I also asked about some nice breakfast places and got a couple of recommendations.

I made a quick stop at the visitor's center back at the rest stop, and the man working there was very earnest in telling me about how wonderful Colorado was.  He, too, recommended the Colorado National Monument.  I decided that this would be my ultimate destination.  I headed back into town to grab some breakfast.  I settled on a not-so-charming restaurant called Judy's, which was nestled in a large strip of stores without much character on the outside.  But the restaurant's lack of flash did not in any way affect the deliciousness of the Meat Lover Skillet I ordered.  If I were a trucker, this is where I would stop every time I passed through Fruita.  Such deliciousness.  You know how when you get the box to go, you realize later on that the food wasn't really worth saving and maybe you throw it away?  Not so with this food.  I had a delicious lunch the next day and it was still awesome.

After eating, I decided I'd better spend a tiny bit of time in the town
before I went up to the monument, so I grabbed my copy of the Complete Poems of Robert Service, perfect for any adventure, and headed into the town square and read a few poems.  Such quiet moments are rare in the life of one so busy, and I cherished it.

From there, I headed out of a town, that had I not decided to visit, I would never have seen, and that I will most likely never see again and headed up to the Colorado National Monument.  I decided that in such a sacred place that I ought to keep my radio turned off.  Silence for two hours is magnificent.  There's not much to say here other than what I can say through pictures.  They don't capture it.

At about 2PM, I decided I ought to be heading back to SLC.  But my adventurous spirit was driving me at this point.  I hadn't realized until I'd checked my map in the car that Arches is really close to I-70, and so I decided that I ought to visit that iconic Utahn landscape that so many know from our license plates.  Once again, words don't work much here, but the one thing I can say is that I will definitely be going back there.  My pictures are pretty unremarkable.

And so I returned home that evening, not more than 28 hours since I'd left.  We often say we have no time, but don't we?  In one grand day out, I was able to gratefully explore a magical world.

Day 43 and Beyond: Leaving Rome

I have to sadly admit that this blog post is long overdue, but I have gotten separate requests from three people, despite the fact the fact that I have been back in the states for a month now.

I get to sing here!

Let's see, among the sites we saw in our last days there were the Colosseum, the Roman forum, St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major, the Scala Sancta (sort of by accident), Sant'Ignazio (where the shrine of St. Aloysius Gonzaga is), among other things, not to mention that we got to see the pope from far away.  He gave his Angelus address.  I didn't understand anything except for the prayer (since it was in Latin).  The coolest thing to think about is that when I come back to Rome with the cathedral choir, I will get to sing in some of those churches.

Papa Paco (as I like to call him) from far away

 So I guess the primary purpose of this post would be to say that I did make it home safely and mostly without incident.  It's strange to say, but a lot of the impact of the trip didn't hit me until I had finally left.  By the time we had arrived, I was somewhat homesick and I was eager to get back to the states and see my family and friends and do what I could to get ready for the next school year (my fourth at the school I'm at now and my sixth year teaching overall).

After returning from a trip like this, I have come to realize how much I overobsessed about a lot of little things.  Many aspects of my life were put into perspective, and I came to decide that there are certain things that it's simply not worth it to put up with and certain things in my life that require much more attention.  It's given me the inspiration to actually go and do the things I really want to do without as much hesitation and anxiety over all the other pressures of my life.

I guess the real 'revelation' was simply a heavy re-emphasis of that favorite quote of mine from The Office, where Pam is making up reasons why she can't go to the art school program the company provides.  Jan says to her, "There are always a million reasons not to do something."  This has been an inspiration to me in the past, but this trip has made me rekindle my faithfulness to it.  I am so good at making excuses to not do the things I really want to do, but after this trip, it's like, 'Hey, you just went on a trip across Europe having a million reasons not to have done it.  Were any of those reasons good enough?  Then are any of the excuses you make for other things good enough?'

"There are always a million reasons not to do something."

Obviously, though, there are plenty of things I want to do in life, and I simply can't do all of them.  So this has forced me to realize that I need to make a commitment to a few, and thus I've had to decide what is really important to me.  Sure, watching The Office in the evening is fun and relaxing, but I would much rather be writing or reading or hiking or hanging out with friends.  When I die, I am certain I will not say that I wish I had spent more time watching The Office.

This trip has also taught me not to care so much what people think.  When you have to walk into relatively nice restaurants smelling of damp, sweaty clothes that have not been washed for 20 days and speak a language you do not know very well.  You begin not to care what people think as long as you get your food.  I'm certain I will still worry about what people think, but I will not let that worry prevent me from doing what I want or what is very important to me.

It is also very strange to have left Ed, my companion for a month and a half through joy and sorrow, peril and discovery, only to have to lead our separate lives again.  We are both Catholic High School teachers now (theology teachers to boot).  Maybe we really are brothers.

All these things are simply shadows of all the things I've been thinking about.  I plan to do a post further down the line about some more in depth conclusions/thoughts I've had since returning, but that will have to wait for another time.  In the meantime, we can say that this post is the closing post for the trip, and all else henceforth will be simply musings from a Catholic High School teacher who happens to have gone on a pilgrimage.  But be sure to stay tuned for next summer: The Trodden Road to Trondheim: An Merry American Pilgrim Walks from Oslo to the Shrine of St. Olaf and Discovers His Norwegian Roots.

Okay, perhaps that subtitle is way too long, but that's okay.  The pilgrimage will be long too.

Day 40: Rome

Ed and I have been in Rome now for a few days and it is kind of difficult to describe all the things we have done and all the feelings resulting therefrom. I could go on and on about all the churches and historical Roman buildings or the Vatican, etc., but I'm not certain I can really effectively communicate any idea about my experience that isn't simply a shadow. 

To be sure, we have been walking a bit, though it is nice to be done with our packs. Upon first reaching St. Peter's Square and viewing it from a distance, Ed and I ran with joy to cross over the border. After some prayers and pictures, I made sure to blow the vuvuzela, though quickly, to avoid being arrested by the Swiss guards. 

Our new Danish Via Francigena friend arrived in Rome yesterday, and today the three of us visited some ancient Roman ruins and St. John Lateran, which his the parish church of the pope. 

The main highlight for me today was to visit the church of St. Ignatius of Loyola. It is in this church that the major shrine of St. Aloysius Gonzaga is located, along with his remains below the altar. I guess you could say that St. Aloysius and St. Gemma are my two main patron saints, so getting to go to Mass and pray at both of their shrines was quite a blessing. 

Visiting the shrines of my very favorite saints has led me to want to renew my devotions which have more recently fallen by the wayside. 

On a related note, seeing all the papal stuff around here has made me kind of want to try again to memorize all the popes. But maybe that's not the best use of my time. But the last time I tried, I did discover that there is a Pope Lando. Now that he's in heaven (hopefully), one could say that he lives in Cloud City. Sorry, couldn't resist a terrible Catholic Star Wars pun. What a great way to end this post. 

Day 36: One Day Away from Rome

Ed and I will be in Rome tomorrow. If you have been following the blog, you might wonder how we got here so fast considering where we were a few days ago. We must admit that we took the train and the bus a few times for various reasons, most importantly that we decided that being in Rome and enjoying it for four or five days is more important to us than trying to walk the whole way, especially since we have already been obliged to take public transit. We did wak through most of Tuscany. 

We were prepared to make a good long walk today, but what should have been a good night's sleep camping was prevented by several barking dogs, whose homes we were not really close to at all. After waiting a good 20 minutes for the dogs to just give up their incessant barking, we finally decided to leave. After walking for ten minutes, the dogs had continued barking on and off. We searched in vain for another suitable spot. Finally, we arrived at a tiny town with a church. We decided to sleep in an alcove behind the church, but it was too late to get a decent amount of sleep, especially since we had to wake up early to make sure no one from the town happened upon us. 

After a morning of having to walk on a moderately busy road with and then having to climb an unpleasant hill to Acquapendente, all the while being harassed by even more dogs. Not to mention that it started to rain and that Acquapendente was not a particularly enchanting town. So distressed and tired were we that we decided to take the bus all the way to Montefiascone, where we had booked a hostel. Sure we 'could have' walked there, but I blame the dogs. This trip has determined that Ed and I will never be dog owners but that we may be donkey owners. Aw, Baracuda!

But the day before yesterday, we had a great day because we made some new friends. Ed and I met two Italian guys doing the Via Francigena from Siena to Rome. We walked with them from Ponte d'Arbia to San Quirico d'Orcia and talked about many things. We all enjoyed the Tuscan landscape together. Along the way we met a young lady from Denmark who joined our party for the rest of the day. She is an engineer, which was cool because it made me remember my own engineering days. She and Ed and I talked about differences between Europe and the US and she also taught me to count to ten in Danish. Together the five of us enjoyed a splendid meal in San Quirico. 

So though there have been difficult days like today and yesterday, but meeting new friends along the way makes it all worth it. 

Day 33: Saints Alive: Visiting Lucca and Siena

This will unfortunately have to be a somewhat short post since I have to be moving soon. Ed and I have just finished our time in Siena, where the shrine of St. Catherine of Siena is located. A few days before this, we were in Lucca, where the shrine of St. Gemma Galgani is, as you already know. 

Being able to visit the shrines of these saints has been an extraordinary grace for me. To be able to see the places important tithe lives of these saints who I so admire really lifts my heart up to God and makes me want to rededicate my life to God. Whenever I hear a great violinist play, it makes me want to go home and start practicing my violin again. And likewise, when I contemplate the lives of the saints, it makes me want to grow closer to God. 

The cities here are beautiful, but more beautiful are those whose lives reflect the light of God. 

Day 27: Friends Visit in Parma and One Day Away from Lucca

It has been a while since I have given a substantial post. Ed and I have enjoyed our time in Italy so far, though we have taken public transit more often than I would like. There are not convenient walking paths here in Italy like there were in Switzerland. Thus we have been reduced to walking on roads, which is difficult and sometimes slightly dangerous. 

A recent highlight for us was a visit we had with some friends in Parma. One of my former colleagues from St. Joe's now lives near Venice, and she and her family were able to come out and visit us for Saturday evening and Sunday morning, including Mass. In their immense generosity, they treated us to dinner, brunch, and they offered to ship some of our unnecessaries back to the states, and they brought us a little care package of various energy bars, etc. It was very nice to spend some time with them. We experienced some authentic Parmasean cuisine while we were there as well, and of course Mass in the crypt chapel of the Duomo was beautiful. 

After Parma, we went roughly south through the Appenines, our last significant mountain range. We are still on our way out, but we are officially in Tuscany, which has prompted a few Seinfeld and The Office references. The quiet forests move one to prayer, though the narrow shoulders and Italian drivers snap one out of it. 

Right now we are in the town of Fivazzano. You Bellocians out there will be well aware that this is not on Belloc's route and indeed you would be correct. We have decided to take a little detour via the coast. We wil still end up in Lucca like Belloc, but we will miss Castelnuovo. This is for various reasons, and though I would like to remain mostly faithful to Belloc's route, it seems that the route via Castelnuovo involves somewhat dangerous roads, and also, this will essentially be our only opportunity to visit the coast. 

Regardless of the means by which we arrive there, I am very excited to go to Lucca. Many people, including Belloc, have spoken very highly of this city, but is important to me primarily because it is where my very favorite saint is from and where there is currently a shrine to her. We are taking a full day here, and much of my time will be spent at the Monastery of St. Gemma. I am almost more excited to go here than to Rome. 

Those of you who know me have perhaps heard my St. Gemma stories, but for those of you who don't, here is a link to a St. Gemma story that inspired my devotion to her: http://www.stgemmagalgani.com/2008/10/st-gemma-pleads-for-sinner-and-obtains.html?m=1

I love this picture of St. Gemma because of a quote I once read. It said, "Man is truly man when the light of God is reflected in a face upturned in prayer."

When next you hear from me, I will have been to Lucca. I can only hope I will be able to communicate the joy I am sure to experience there. 

Day 23: Italian Joy

This post will be short because my battery is low. But Italy is great. Today, at least 6 different people stopped us and talked to us. One of them even told me how good my Italian was, even though I know very very little. 

My only thought for now is how happy I am that many people do not peg us as Americans at first. In fact, I think we've been asked more often if we are German than English or American. Hooray! Someone did point out that Ed and I are both blonde haired and blue eyed, so maybe that has something to do with it. Nevertheless, it means we do not meet the typical American stereotype, whatever that is. The Italian folks we have met have been very genial people. It is a very interesting change from Switzerland. But I can say that the Italian part of Switzerland is quite like Italy itself, except for the prices. Everything in Italy is soooo much cheaper. We are eating much better for less money. 

Italy is a great place. I am very happy to be here. 

Day 20: Difficulty, Failure, and Respite

The past few days have contained many ups and downs on our journey to Rome. Our Sunday began very well with a wonderful Mass at the Church of Sts. Peter and Paul in Quinto. 

Afterward, I managed to find the priest and tell him we were on a pilgrimage, and I asked him if he could give us a blessing. He gave us the blessing in Italian but we spoke in French. We talked and he told us that he was the parochial vicar at a parish in the south of Switzerland in the town of Morbio Inferiore. He told us that if we came that way, we could stay at the rectory and we could have some food. Later on I consulted the map and discovered that Morbio was pretty much on our way to Italy so we made plans to go through there. 

That day was the day of Federer's tragic loss in the Wimbledon final. That night, we experienced much difficulty, which felt like it was a continuation of the disappointment of the loss. We got to a road that looked dangerous because of its lack of a decent shoulder. There were no alternatives, and we were too upset to go so far back, so after much deliberation, we decided to take the bus just past the dangerous part. It was a difficult concession to make, but it was for the sake of safety. That night, we experienced many mishaps which caused us to get very little sleep. Ed posted a Facebook status alluding to this, and that for now, is all we can say on the matter (we want to save it for the book). 

The next day I learned the importance of a good night's sleep for a decent day of hiking. I had very little energy and I could not keep up with Ed very well. We had a clear and safe path. It was frustrating because when we had had energy to hike a long time the night before, we had horrible luck finding a safe path and we got stuck, but when we finally had a clear and safe path, we had no energy. The other problem we had was that it rained relentlessly all day and had been for several days. That night in Bellinzona, we decided to get a hotel. I had a great night's sleep that night. We decided to go to Morbio Inferiore the next day to find Don Marco and take him up in his offer of hospitality. 

Unfortunately, I discovered from my maps and from two additional accounts of authors who have also recreated Belloc's journey (Peter Francis Browne (1990) and Bob Johnson (2008 ebook)), that the road Lugano might not work out the way we wanted. We tried one way and were met with the same kind of dangerous road as before, while also enduring unceasing pouring rain for several hours. And so, like Peter Francis Browne before us, we took the train to Lugano and then to Morbio Inferiore. This gave us time to actually enjoy our time in Lugano and actually visit several churches. In the course of our train taking, we met some American students from Virginia Tech and University of Virginia who were on a study abroad program. We talked about our respective journeys. It was nice to speak in English for a change. 

And now here we are at the rectory in Morbio Inferiore, enjoying the hospitality of Italian priests. We are washing our clothes for real for the first time on this journey It will be nice to wear something that doesn't smell absolutely horrible. It's been depressing to take a shower and then put on the same disgusting clothes. 

And tomorrow, Italy!

Day 18: Shared Favorites

Sometimes in life, one of your friends might show you a cool book or a movie. Soon enough, that book or movie might become your favorite, and you and your friend may enjoy talking about it as a shared favorite of sorts. 

Today, Ed and I are watching our shared favorite tennis player, Roger Federer, play in the Wimbledon final against Novak Djokovic. Ed told me about Federer many years ago, and he has become my favorite tennis player. Together, Ed and I watched him take his first French Open title. And now, we have the joy of watching him play in the Wimbledon 2014 final while we are in Switzerland, which is Federer's home country. I suppose that it's not the same as watching a Federer match live, but it sure is something. 

We haven't gone very far since my last post, but we had the joy of going to Mass at Sts. Peter and Paul Church in Quinto this morning and receiving a blessing from the priest there. Then we hiked to Faido, where we are now watching the Federer match. We should be out of Switzerland in two days. I don't know much Italian, but it's slightly better than my German. 

Day 17: Buongiorno

We have arrived in the Italian part of Switzerland, so it will be Italian from here on out. We have climbed SIX mountains/ridges to get here. Three in the Jura and three in the alps. I should make some notches in my walking stick to indicate this, like kills on the fuselage of a fighter jet. Also, there was the Ballon d'Alsace, so seven total. Phew. 

We have had some rough days struggling in the rain and the heat, but we are here in Ariolo, with full bellies and restored spirits. We should be in Italy proper in two or three days. 

We have been singing songs and discussing all manner of things, including fantasy novels, history, music, theology, memories, hopes, dreams, homestarrunner cartoons, and girls. At other times we have been silent, taking in with awe the beauty and grandeur of the beautiful European countryside and contemplating the peregrine nature of our pilgrimage. 

Ever at the forefront of our minds are the prayer intentions entrusted to us as well as those who are praying for us. 

I apologize for the lack of pictures in this post, but follow me on Twitter or Instagram, both with the handle lukestager. 

Please continue to pray for us. 

Day 13: The Most Dangerous Thing

One time, one of my students asked me what was the most dangerous thing I'd done. I didn't really know how to answer them because I couldn't think of anything particularly dangerous in my life. If that same student asked me today, I'd definitely have an answer. 

I'd like to add a disclaimer at this point that dangerous is not synonymous with careless. One may drink to much and put himself in a dangerous situation as a result of carelessness, but in the case I am about to describe, great care indeed was taken. While the situation was dangerous, we took great care that no harm would come to either of us. 

The most dangerous thing I have done is this. Yesterday I, along with Ed, climbed the Brienzergrat, the most difficult mountain I have ever had to climb. South Sister pales in comparison to this peak, nay, this nearly insurmountable ridge. Firstly, it was a long road. It wasn't bad at first, but there were a lot of miles to log before even getting to the tough part. The tough part was a great steep incline, which Ed and I immensely struggled with for over an hour (after three hours of moderately difficult climbing). Not only was it steep, but it was also not an easy path. One wrong step could send you tumbling over, and the mud did not make it any easier to find decent footing. Ed and I did have a decent amount of water and food, but as we got closer to the top, the more likely it became that we might have to turn back or that we might even get stuck up there with few options. 

When we finally reached the 'pass,' which was practically a peak all its own, we now had to face going down just as steep of an incline down the other side. The path was practically nonexistent. Though there was no snow, the mud and the wet grass made it somewhat difficult. I myself fell down twice, which was a bit rattling, but in the end, we finally made it to Breinz. 

Before this intense hike, we enjoyed time in Solothurn after the Jura. From there we found a very clear and direct, albeit at times boring, route across the valley, passing through Burgdorf, Lutzelfluh, Langnau, and Shangnau. The journey has been quite wonderful so far, despite the few difficulties we have encountered. 

Today it rained, and we took it easy today, watching Roger Federer play in the Wimbledon quarter finals and win. Tomorrow we face the Grimselpass, the last big climb for us for most of the rest of the trip. 

Day 10: In German Switzerland

I am writing this post from a hostel in Solothurn, which is the first major German speaking city in Switzerland after crossing the Jura mountains. There were a few German towns before that, but Solothurn is the biggest one we've seen so far. Since I last posted, so much has happened and it's hard to know where to begin or what to talk about. Ed and I stayed at a hotel right after the Ballon d'Alsace and made our way in the morning. We got a pretty late start, and we didn't have a particular goal for that day, but just to go as far as we could. We had an exciting incident involving wild animals at 4 AM, so we left really early the next day.

We were about 6 km from the last French town, so that day would be our last in France. Up to that point, things had gone pretty well and we've been looking forward to more of that. There are aome things we do each day as part of our pilgrimage. We pray the Rosary for all the intentions of our pilgrimage (including those sent to us at pathtoromeprayers@gmail.com. Also, we observe an hour of silence each day for each of us to reflect on our own. Usually this is the part where Ed gets way way ahead of me. The hours of silence are not as bad as I though they would be, but it gives us a little window into the loneliness the previous authors experienced since they did it on their own. I am glad Ed is with me. I guess that's always been a given since this whole thing was his idea in the first place.

As such, Ed and I have been talking a lot. We have had theological discussions, which have been thought provoking, but we have also made lots of references to movies and TV shows, not to mention Strong Bad and Homestar Runner. One of the traditions we've started and modified is to tell each other one good memory and one bad memory and one optional hope for the future. The good memories are great fun, and they usually lead to further reminiscing. We have heard some of the tales before, but it is fun to hear them again. By the way, those of you who know me know that I can tell some pretty long stories. But I can assure you that Ed's stories are even longer. The bad memories are a little more difficult because evn the worst ones can be learned from and thus turned positive in a way. It's been a good way not only to learn about each other, but to learn about ourselves. 

Now you might be saying currently, "But Luke, I've read this far in the post and you haven't actually told me anything you've done in the last 4 days." You would be right, but one must keep in mind that when Belloc wrote his book, he would often skip over large sections of his travels with random tangents, some of which are utter nonsense. 

I did post some pictures the other day to tide you over. But let's see. Ed and I have met quite a few charming people despite the fact that we look and probably smell disgusting. I don't imagine that salt stains on my t-shirt will ever become fashionable. We have walked through many charming villages in the countryside, and the last two days were fraught with much climbing of the ridges of the Jura mountains, which we finally left behind today. On our way down from Weissenstein, we got caught in quite the thunderstorm, which dampened our clothes but not our spirit, and we finally made it to the hostel where we are now, even after both our electronic devices died and we couldn't remember the name of the hostel we'd booked online. 

Oh, yeah. One of the other cool things I've been trying to do is to sing Gregorian chant in as many of these beautiful churches as possible. My favorite one so far was the church in the tiny town of St. Ursanne. 

We've had a couple rough half days. I say half days because usually if one half is bad, the other half has tended to be good, or sometimes simply a good ending can make a bad day worth it. 

It's late and I have to go to sleep, but I wanted to leave you with one last cool memory from this trip. Ed and I wound up watching the US vs. Germany match with a German young lady we happened to meet in Porrentruy. She spoke English well, and we talked for a good long time. The US lost the match, but they still made it to the next round. She also showed us the local Catholic Church (St. Pierre), which I also sang in. Before we left she even gave us some token gifts, which we accepted gratefully.  

Okay, if you are still dissatisfied with the lack of detail in these posts, remember that Ed and I do plan on writing a book when we're done and we can't give it ALL away, right?

End of Day 6

After leaving Epinal, we had quite the adventurous day, and though we didn't get very far, in the end it was all worth it.

That morning we had gone to the Basilica of St. Maurice. The Mass was quite like a regular Mass except of course for the fact that it was in French and in a beautiful church. But also, there were some Baptisms and First Communions that day. I decided to add those children to our intention list for the pilgrimage. Before leaving Epinal, I made sure to take a picture of the basilica from the same angle as Belloc sketched so many years ago. 

On our way out of the town, we passed by the Epinal American Cemetery and Memorial. Knowing we would never have a chance to go here again, we decided to take this detour and pay our repects. We wound up meeting a retired military officer who shared much of his life with us and was very interested in our own journey. At about 3, the flag was to be taken down and folded. A gentleman and his 3 year old son came by as the usually do to help take it down. On our way over to the flag pole, the officer told us about Dick Clark's older brother Brandon who was buried there, Wells Lewis, son of Nobel Prize winning author Sinclair Lewis, and another guy whose name escapes me at the moment. Charles something. The officer allowed Ed and I to fold the flag but it was three year old Aaron who gave us the instructions. We felt quite honored. 

The officer told us about a shortcut out of the cemetery that would keep us off the main road. Unfortunately, we made an error and went the wrong way and proceeded into a maze of forest. Deciding that we did not want to go all the way back, we pressed on, hoping to eventually emerge from the forest at Arches. After wandering the woods for a while, we finally made it to Arches, where we found a place to sleep just inside the woods. 

We had our first rainy day yesterday. We seemed to be stuck try to get to and out of Remiremont, a town which became a byword for us. We were in a dispirited state when we left, and then later it began to rain for the first time since we had begun our journey. For some reason, the rain really lifted our spirits and we sang and talked merrily in the rain for the remainder of the day. I sang the John Denver song, "Poems, Prayers, and Promises" among others.

I enjoyed falling asleep to the sound of raindrops on the outside of the tent after a long days arduous journey. 

Today, we climbed the Ballon d'Alsace, which is a little peak in the southern part of the Vosges Mountains we have been hiking through. At the top there was a little park with a swing set we were promptly told to get off of. I was sad about that. Ed and I saw the epic statue of St. Joan of Arc at the top and then ran into a group of older hikers, one of whom had seen us in Remiremont the day before. We had to assure them we weren't Mormons. I guess when there are a pair of young male Americans wandering through Europe, they tend to be Mormon missionaries. I hadn't even mentioned that I was from Salt Lake City. They said they were Catholic, and so we asked them to pray for us. We have also added them to our prayer list. 

After a discouraging descent, we decided to stop at a cozy inn where I have just composed this blog post. Keep us in your prayers and know that you are in ours. 

End of Day 3

It's hard to believe I've only been walking for three days. I guess I've been gone for five with the flying, taking the train, the bus to finally end up in Toul. 

Things were actually a little rocky leading up to Thursday, some monetary, some lingual, and most wifi related, but for some reason, the morning we left for Toul from Nancy, everything clicked. 

One thing that has stuck out on this trip is having to use a foreign language. I took French in high school and reviewed a tiny bit before I left, but I was not prepared for having to think on my feet as I talked, and I never realized how difficult it is to listen and understand quickly. Now, I already have a lot of trouble talking to strangers (anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I generally let other people do the talking). So now we throw a new language into the mix and it is utterly terrifying. I had a lot of trouble starting out asking for help and communicating with our host at the first place we stayed, and I became very discouraged. But since then, I have been able to speak pretty well and be understood and to understand. I lament the fact that we will soon leave France and enter countries where French is not the dominant language. 

Aside from dealing with language, the rest of the trip has gone very well. We have had exceptional weather and have found places to eat and sleep without much trouble. So it turns out that the stereotype about French people walking around with baguettes is pretty true. We too buy a couple baguettes in the morning to eat on the road. Quite wonderful. Also, wine is wonderfully cheap. 

Tonight, in Epinal, there is a music festival going on that Ed and I went to. It was nice to walk around town without our packs for a while. Since tomorrow is Sunday, we treated ourselves to an actual hotel room, and then we're going to Mass at the Basilica of St. Maurice. 

Things have gone wonderfully so far, and there are many little things I haven't mentioned here for brevity's sake, but please continue to pray for us and please send us any prayer requests you have to pathtoromeprayers@gmail.com. 

Day 2

So it looks like it's going to be a bit harder to blog about this trip than I thought. It is quite difficult to find places with free wifi, and when we do, there is very little time to write something of substance because the keyboard on this iPod is very small. 

But at any rate, Ed and I are finishing up our second day on our Path to Rome. I am very sore. One thing we have discovered is that Ed is clearly faster than me, so he gets ahead of me quite often. Another thing we have discovered is that my French skills are not that great, though they have been quickly improving. Interestingly enough, we have found that for some reason, Ed tends to understand what people are saying even when I can't. This has led to our invention of three way translation, in which the French person speaks, Ed translates it for me, and I speak in French to the guy. Ed listens and I speak. Or Ed entend, et je parle. 

We began at Toul yesterday and made it all the way to Flavigny even though we had started pretty late. And today we made it to Charmes. Tomorrow we will stay in Epinal and go to Mass there in Sunday. Sorry for no pictures. The blogger app is kind of annoying that way. You can see some pictures on my Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. 

At the Airport: A Reflection

Okay, so this post was composed yesterday morning, but because of annoying wifi, I couldn't post till today. I am in Paris! Actually, now I am in Toul, where we are starting. But her is the post from two days ago. 

Right now, I am at Portland International Airport waiting for my flight to Paris. As I wait, I am thinking about the last few weeks leading up to this point. It has been a whirlwind of excitement to say the least. I spent my time cleaning and setting up my classroom and office, but I also spent time with friends in Salt Lake, and in particular going to the wedding of two of my teacher friends. During my day in Portland, I saw many old friends and sang in a Latin Mass said by my old spiritual director from Portland, among many other things. 

What this means is that I did not get as much of the extra things done for this trip as I had planned. As I prepare to leave this morning, it's a little disappointing to think of. I did not finish my Little Office of the Pilgrim. Though I did get my prayer translated into German properly, I did not finish the translation to Italian or French, nor did I print out holy cards with the German prayer, and I am already almost out of the English prayer cards. I hope that those to whom I gave them are fervently praying, wink, wink. Also, I was not able to pick up some last minute supplies nor finish a few of the books that I wanted to. I did not make any list of poems, though perhaps I may find a poem app. I do have various prayers on my phone at least. 

I list these failures because what I have been thinking about this morning is how most of that stuff doesn't really matter. They are things that would be nice, but in a way, not being able to do those things means I have to put more of my reliance on God. It's a humbling sort of thing, and I think I'm being prepared for a trip filled with many opportunities for humility. I have to give my pilgrimage over to God rather than trying to have a lot of control over it. 

But in the meantime, I grow increasingly more excited as I think about what I am about to do. It is very easy to make Lord of the Rings references and comparisons (and indeed that is a very exciting prospect), but what is even more thrilling is that I am actually embarking on a real journey made by a real man, not a fictitious invention. I enjoy learning about Elvish, but French and Chinese and Greek fascinate me more because they have their origins in the real world. 

On the other hand, the fact that one man can create so complex a thing is truly remarkable. I love Elvish precisely because it was invented. A new world can be created by one man, and we all may share in it. This is how I feel when I read Belloc; I feel that he has created this thing that I may partake in. When I read the chronicle of his Path to Rome, I feel that I am there with him. And now I am taking part in an even more real sense, and those who read about Ed and me will also be participating with us. This is why writing the prayer and giving out the cards is so important to me. I want people to be a part of our journey through prayer. They pray for us and we pray for them. Ed and I are more like emissaries than individual travelers. We go on behalf of those we temporarily leave. 

It is amazing what being on a plane will do to my ability to muse. If I do not keep this post in check, I may go on and on. My ability to type on the keyboard of this iPod Touch is greatly improving. 

I am going to bring this post to a close, but I am certain that I will begin another on my subsequent flight. I go from Portland to Philadelphia, and from there to Paris. Someone asked me what flight carrier I have. It is US Airways, which I think this person looked down upon. At any rate, I am very sad that I don't get any Delta Cookies. Humility, humility, humility. 

Two Weeks Away: Prayers and Requests

My flight to Paris is a little over two weeks away.  I fly from Portland to Paris on the morning of Tuesday June 17.  From Paris, Ed and I will take the train to Toul where our journey will begin.  If you missed it in the first post of this blog, here is a Google map of our route (roughly): Google Map of the Path to Rome.  In the meantime, I am making my preparations.  I am pretty confident in the way of physical preparation and supplies, but I am the least confident in my language skills, which I have failed to practice for the last several weeks.  Ed is already in Europe, currently in London if I'm not mistaken.  He'll be in Paris before me, so he'll have to fare on his own language-wise until I get there.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, prayer will be an important aspect of the pilgrimage.  As such, I have acquired a little journal/notebook in which to write Ed's and my prayer intentions as well as the intentions of others.  Because many of you will not be able to see us personally before we leave, I have created an e-mail address for the purpose of enabling others to send us prayer requests.  Any prayer requests sent to this e-mail address will be prayed for by Ed and me for the duration of our pilgrimage, and any time we stop in a church, we will make a point to pray for the intentions in our booklet.

The e-mail address for prayer requests is: pathtoromeprayers@gmail.com

Also, I have designed my holy card and am waiting on a few leads as to where I might get them printed.  I actually had a student give me a graduation party invite on a card made at Walgreen's comparable to what I'd like to have done for our holy cards.  Maybe it will be as simple as that.  I've decided that Sts. Peter and Paul will be the saints featured on our holy card.  The picture on the right is the one I've chosen.

In the meantime, here is the prayer that I composed to be on the back of the holy card.  It is designed as a prayer specifically for us.  I drew from various sources, but I wanted to have a prayer for this specific trip.  Here is the text:

Lord, you who called your servant Abraham out of Ur 

and who watched over him during all his wanderings, 

you who guided your people through the desert 

in their journey to the Promised Land, 

you who sent the Archangel Raphael to guide the youth Tobias, 

you who guided the Holy Family on their flight to Egypt, 

we ask you to watch over your servants Edward and Luke, 

who for your greater honor and glory, make a pilgrimage to Rome.  

Be for them a companion on their journey, 

a help as they go forward, a respite in fatigue, 

a shadow in the heat, a shelter from the rain and the cold, 

a light in the darkness, a consolation in the midst of dejection,

 and a joy in the midst of sorrow, 

so that, as they follow the way to their journey’s end, 

they may also be led to the path to holiness they so earnestly seek to follow, 

and that, under your guidance, they may reach safely the end of their pilgrimage 

with a fervent hope in reaching their final destination with you in heaven.   

We ask this through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Holy Mary, Mother of the Church, and Protector of Christians, pray for us.

St. Joseph, our guide and guardian, pray for us.
Sts. Peter and Paul, pray for us.

I intend to translate the prayer into French, German, and Italian so that we can give the holy cards to those we meet along the way.  I'll have to run it by those more well versed in these languages once I translate them.

I should be posting a little bit more in the weeks to come.  Some people have asked for more information on my friend Ed since they don't know him, so I'll have to enlighten people in this arena.  Also, some people have requested to receive e-mail updates when I make a post.  In the sidebar above my picture, there is now a place where you can enter your e-mail address to receive a notification when my blog us updated.  While you wait for the next update in the meantime, please send your prayer requests to pathtoromeprayers@gmail.com so I can get them down in the prayer journal.

Sts. Peter and Paul, pray for us!