Stage 45: La Storta to Rome. The last post? Not quite. Part 3.

Then utter dismay, after 22km, at seeing long queues snaking back and forth to the Basilica, where I knew I could get my Testimonium. Luckily, however, pilgrims get fast tracked; speak to the official on the disabled entrance. Once through security, another official to speak to, round the corner and up the side of the Square, another barrier to be undone, and into a long hall, where 4 young men were doing cloakroom attendant duty, but one of them gave me my last stamp and the Testimonium.  

And that was it. No fanfares, no handshake, no priestly benediction with censor and holy water, and certainly no invitation to a papal audience (unlike the Z-listers in the documentary who got a private session). It was very matter of fact and a tad deflating. Then into the stunning Basilica (no photos can really do it justice) and a good long gawp (and a few tears) before photos with passport and Testimonium, and a good feed at the first restaurant I came to. And a massive storm.

And all day a full gamut of emotions: apprehension/excitement, relief/disappointment, determination/apathy, tearfulness/joy, elation/deflation, anticlimax and a bit of pride too. Very little spiritual, although I've certainly been inhabiting a clear space, as entering the frenzy of Rome has highlighted. It's going to take a while to work through all of that.

But ultimately, the achievement stands, the journey has run its course, and I have been profoundly affected by it. I'll write another set of posts reflecting on all of that once today has been digested.

Finally, I want to remember here the important people who inspired this: Joan, Meg, Joyce, Mary, Paul, Allan and Linda. This was for them and everyone like them. In a sense they've been on the journey too, and they should be remembered.  

If you have also enjoyed being on the journey, thanks for your company, which has been much appreciated (and please donate if you can).