We are sitting at the front of the ferry as it pushes its way through the waters of the Channel. France was visible to us even before we set off and the coast is steadily becoming clearer as we go. There is an inevitability about the process that stops you from wondering if you will get there. We watched a container ship cross our path and a British patrol vessel seemed to pause to let us pass as we ploughed on along our well established course.

It brings it home to us how so much of our lives consist of fixed patterns that keep us going, keep us in our place and shore us up against the forces outside our control. Even (or perhaps, especially) in times of hardship, we use routines and rituals to give us that stability and to help us map our way through each day’s challenges.

And I am thinking of these things as I look out with joy at the sea with its deep blue broken into an endless rippling of small waves and brief lines of broken white. The power and the depth holds a sense of restlessness and hidden movement just lurking below the surface. France is closer now as more ships pass. It feels like we are turning, moving in a wide curve towards the distant port where two other ferries are cutting their way towards Dover.

Before Alison’s accident, I felt like we were building up our momentum. We were getting into a daily rhythm and the walking was getting easier. I wondered if the day of queueing and waiting would break this developing pattern and I am glad to say it has not. It has not been easy for Alison – she reacted badly to the antibiotics and we became ever more mindful of our movements through the narrow and unruly paths across the Downs. But these have helped us focus more on how we are making this journey together.

We have our own form of stability within the daily patterns of pilgrimage and these have helped us keep going and helped us help each other along the way.

This is what we were looking forward to when we first set off. We have both described the experience of pilgrimage as a way of being both outside of and still part of the world around us. The uncertainties of the path are part of the joy, like the unsettling sea, we can steer our course through to our next destination. The patterns of the day, the details of each necessity, free us to enjoy where we are, who we are with, what we are experiencing as we go. And, unlike many, we are blessed by the instabilities we face each day. We are free to embrace the changes rather than try to fight them. We are so lucky to be here and even luckier to know that we will soon be moving on, and on.

So, as we approach France we really do feel ready to find out exactly how far we can go……