Pass Road

On April 29th, the wonderful sunshine defied all meteorolgists who had predicted rain and dreary weather.

An easy route via pass roads led us out of Bouvante, to Lente.

At the Col du Chaud Clapier

When you are able to walk without being scared of falling into an abyss after every step, your thoughts are free to roam as well.

Of course I think a lot about Aldo Moro. Most people I meet are astonished that this pilgrimage is dedicated to him. More astonished than about the fact that I walk with a pack donkey, or that the destination is so far away, or that it will take such a long time to get there.

In Léoncel it was especially nice: I had slept behind the village church. In the morning, a church employee turned up. She apologised for not having noticed me the evening before.

The church offers free rooms to pilgrims. But now, at least, I was to come and have breakfast.

I was happy to accept, but I explained to her that I was neither a Catholic nor on an "official" pilgrimage, but that it was for Aldo Moro.

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “Going on a pilgrimage is a very personal thing; each pilgrim has his or her own way. And it will do Aldo good, it will give him joy."

She said this very much as a matter of fact, which moved me a lot.

A living example of openness and interreligious tolerance.

This is certainly also due to the influence of the Vercor, which has many unknown, sleepy places of pilgrimage, far away from the popular Way of St. James. They open their very intimate ways of salvation to quiet pilgrims.

Most people are not spontaneously able to know who Aldo was. I briefly explain it to them, and each time I feel the strength that comes from pulling him out of oblivion.

Yes, it does him good. And me, too. The cold, cynical evil that became manifest in the merciless stubbornness of all protagonists whose actions finally led to Aldo's death, will not have the last word.

Almost fourty years later, the outcry of the heart is still there, still awake, and it will not fall silent.

The night in the tent near Lente was brutally cold: sub-zero temperatures! As you can see, Gamin had a frozen bum in the morning.