I awoke to the cleaning ladies tidying up the church. I had slept in. I washed up in the bathroom and got ready for the day. I realized the ladies didn’t speak English. We wished each other “buenas días”.
Over at the rectory I ate breakfast and chatted with Fr. Michael. He was a missionary priest in Ecuador for a number of years. I ate some cereal and some oranges, and a drank a few glasses of Tampico.
I took a shower and changed into clean clothes. Fr. Michael gave me some cous cous, ham, French fries, and a Walmart gift card. I asked for a blessing and he sent me on my way.
I put in a long and slow day. I try to do this at least once or twice a week. The longer and slower my body trains, the easier it seems to be to cover long distances in shorter times when I need to.
At lunch time I ate the cous cous and ham Fr. Michael had given me. Usually I eat a dark leafy green salad and some fruit for lunch, but because I was walking I decided to eat something heavier. The ham was so sweet and delicious. It was a good break.
I jumped back in the 90 as state prison workers leapfrogged me collecting trash. They do a really good job at keeping the roads groomed and clean. The difference is clear.
I met Larry. He is from Alabama and is stuck in Gretna, FL.
By 6pm I had reached Holy Cross in Chattahoochee FL. The grounds were beautiful. I met Margo a parishioner who visits men and women in prison. She informed me the priest was not home and encouraged me to camp and leave a note on the door. I did so.
A short while later, Fr. Joseph, a priest from Africa, returned from the market. He is just visiting with the parish but encouraged me to camp in the pine grove by the Stations of the Cross. We planned for Mass in the morning and I retired to my hammock.
I fell asleep feeling safe beneath the moonlight, listening to birds, critters, and freight trains.