A European Pilgrimage for the Blessed Mother

By Mike Byrne

Last fall, there was a brochure in my parish advertising a 10-day trip to Marian sites in Europe, beginning with Fatima, near Lisbon, Portugal.

The trip would include stops in Avila, Spain, where St. Theresa was active, and then move on to Lourdes, France where the Immaculate Conception appeared to St. Bernadette.

Next, we would travel by bus to Toulouse, France and catch a plane to Croatia where we would be bused into Medjugore, where the Blessed Mother has been appearing to visionaries since June 24, 1981.

It sounded like the trip of a lifetime for those devoted to the Blessed Mother, who is the Patroness of the United States of America.

The cost was around $4,000 and sufficient funds were available.

It sounded wonderful, and my late wife, Mary, who was devoted to the Blessed Mother, would have loved to have taken this pilgrimage, but I had doubts I could withstand the rigors of the trip.

Friends and family urged me to take it and in late November I signed up. Friends and family also urged me to begin walking and exercising to get in shape, which I reluctantly, and intermittently, did.

All told, 23 souls signed up to take the tour, and we began our journey on May 13, 2024, the 107th anniversary of the first apparition of the Blessed Mother to young children in Fatima.

We flew out of Newark Airport around 6:30 pm and arrived in Frankfurt, Germany around 7:30 in the morning. It was around 2 a.m. in the morning Newark time for those of us, like me, who couldn’t sleep on the plane.

We went through customs and then walked a great distance through the airport to catch a plane to Lisbon. We arrived in Lisbon about 12:30 pm German time but actually 11:30 a.m. Portugal time due to a time difference. No sleep on that plane either and we took a bus into Lisbon.

Lisbon seemed a clean city, and we drove to an area where we could have lunch. Our tour guide pointed us in the direction of restaurants but since the menus were in Portuguese and none of us could comprehend them, a group opted to eat at the local McDonald’s.

We walked back to the area where the bus was parked, and then traveled to the great church at Fatima in the field where the Blessed Mother appeared. The church was magnificent and the large area outside had held thousands the night before in a candlelight procession.

We went back to the hotel where our bags were outside our rooms and we went in and unpacked. We had dinner in the dining room and afterward the tour guide said we would be getting up at 5:45 a.m. so we could begin tomorrow’s journey. She also said we could participate in a candlelight procession at the church in Fatima after dinner.

A number of travelers did that but I was too exhausted. It was after nine at night and I had been up since 8 a.m. the day before. I went to bed.

My roommate walked in the procession but he said it started to rain and it was over fairly quickly.

The next morning we were given a box lunch, mostly ham and cheese sandwiches and some fruit, and off we went to Spain.

Travel is free and easy in the European Union. We did not have to go through customs when we entered Spain or France.

Our first stop in Spain was in a town called Alba, where St. Theresa of Avila is buried in a chapel. We arrived before lunch. It was a very Spanish town and we walked to a museum where we saw artifacts and religious tapestries that reflected St. Theresa.

A short stroll down a side street from the museum and we were in the Chapel where St. Theresa’s sepulcher is housed above the altar. After taking some time to pray, I walked outside and could find no one of our group. I walked back to the square where we were supposed to meet but saw no one.

A little disconcerted, I started walking to try to trace the steps we took through the town to get the museum. I started to become uneasy. I took out my phone and wondered who I could call, and remembered the priest who was leading the trip was in my phone, so I called him.

He answered and said he was in the square where a few moments ago I had seen no one and I started to walk back and caught sight of him. He was standing in the square and when I told him I was heading toward him, he walked back to the café where he was sitting with the tour guide.

I joined them and had a coca cola and it was the most refreshing drink I had had in a while. It lifted my spirits.

A short while later the bus showed up and we were off to Avila. I had eaten the sandwiches from the hotel.? We rode the bus for some time, I don’t recall how long, but reached Avila in late afternoon.

It is a very medieval city with walls and turrets and we walked some distance through it to the Church where St. Theresa was active and where she worked with St. John of the Cross.

Our main tour guide hired a local guide who proceeded to explain the sights. We were given a radio with an earpiece but mine didn’t work and I missed practically everything the local guide said.

We walked throughout the town and we went to residence of the St. Theresa and St. John of the Cross where there were many artifacts and holy objects.

We did a lot of walking and I was getting hungry and it was almost 8 p.m. by the time we were taken to the hotel and allowed to go to out rooms to get ready for dinner.

After dinner, I showered and went to bed. My roommate said we walked 9400 steps that day.? We were allowed to sleep until 7 a.m.

We had breakfast the next morning and took off for Lourdes. I was still tired and not feeling very spiritual or close to God even though we would pray the rosary on the bus.

At lunchtime, we stopped at roadside restaurant in Spain and it was good. I had a ham and cheese on a roll that the waitress heated for me in the microwave. Remembering the good coke in Alba, I ordered another.

Conversation was light and we traveled on to France. We thought we were crossing the Pyrenees Mountains which separate Spain from France but we somehow bypassed them, though we saw some large rock formations.

By bus, northern Spain looks similar to southern France.

On entering France, I thought of all the movies and friends who talked of the south of France as being idyllic. It was charming but a little disappointed I didn’t see any vineyards or large estates.

It took a while to get to Lourdes, and when we did, we were in the center of town. It had been built up since the apparitions and even a railroad connected it to the rest of France. It was charming, and a little amused at the thought it was reminiscent of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

We were allowed to relax and go to our rooms in the hotel and unpack.

We walked around outside and there were plenty of shops selling souvenirs. It was a fairly short walk to the main grounds of the Cathedral that the Blessed Mother asked to be built atop the Grotto where she appeared.

The grounds are large and are used for candlelight processions in the evening.

We walked to the Grotto area. On the way there, faucets were lined on a wall for water from the stream the Blessed Mother revealed to St. Bernadette. The water is said to have healing properties. I washed my hands and face with the cool liquid, as many others did the same. They also filled bottles, containers and gallon jugs.

The Grotto was better in person than photos I had seen. The place where the Blessed Mother appeared wasn’t very high, maybe 10 feet above ground, and there was a cave below and the stream.

The next day I walked with a couple from my parish to the Grotto where there was a Mass to be held from inside the cave underneath. The Mass was being celebrated by a bishop from Ireland and several priests, so the Mass was in English.

There was a mild rain and the spot where we chose to sit was right behind a marker stating in French where St. Bernadette knelt and saw the Immaculate Conception for the first time in 1858. I took a photo of the marker.

After Mass and communion, we walked back to the hotel and as we were passing the faucets again I went and washed by face and hands.

We went back to the hotel and made plans for lunch. Several of our group were waiting in the lobby and it was decided we would have crepes.

A half dozen or more of us went walking up the road for about half mile or so to a café with outdoor tables.

We sat at three tables and ours was the only table to order crepes. A woman ordered a chocolate crepe and the men ordered caramel crepes. I wanted to order crepe Suzette but it was pointed out that it contained alcohol, which I can’t have.

The crepes were thin and delicious. I washed mine down with a coca cola.

We walked back to the hotel and I decided to do some shopping. I bought a small bottle to bring back Lourdes water for a friend whose son has cancer, and I bought a T-shirt with an image of the Blessed Mother and Lourdes on it for my daughter, Cynthia.

We had dinner in the hotel and went on a candlelight procession that evening with the couple from my parish.

We said the rosary in several languages while walking during the procession but the language that elicited the least response from the crowd was English. I was a little ashamed of that.

Our stay in Lourdes was pleasant. We took a walking tour to St. Bernadette’s house where she was born, and that housed the mill her father worked until circumstances forced the family to leave and live in an abandoned one room jail.

Unlike Lisbon and Spain, we could rest and travel at our own pace in Lourdes. Some of us went to the baths at Lourdes where you could immerse yourselves in the healing waters while wearing a bathing suit. But that practice was discontinued due to the pandemic. All you could do now was wash your face and hands at the baths.

I also did some exploring on my own. Across from the faucets was a bridge over a small river where there was a church. I went inside and saw large depictions of the Grotto and St. Bernadette.

Next, I sat on a bench near the river across from the Grotto and took in the scene. Young Bernadette approached the area looking for firewood but there was a lot trash and pigs at the site and other farm animals would sometimes wander there for food. It was at this unseemly place where the apparitions took place.

The day before our tour guide had taken us for a walk on the procession grounds and underneath is a large church for pilgrims to pray. I noticed a hanging tapestry with St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare (spelled the French way as St. Claire) and took a photo of it for a Franciscan friend back home.

Our tour included breakfast and dinner every day but we were on our own for lunch. The couple from my parish and I went to lunch on another day. After walking a short distance we found a bistro where we could dine. The place offered hamburgers but I decided to try sausages and French fries.

It was tasty but not very filling and I ordered a coke to drink with it. I went shopping after lunch.

One night at dinner, which was mostly chicken and potatoes of some kind, we were given cheese for dessert. I was aware that Europeans would often have cheese and fruit after dinner instead of something sweet like Americans.

My roommate was upset and complained long and loud with humor about being served cheese for dessert, even after the waiter said it was a French custom. My roommate thought the hotel was being cheap.

Cheese for dessert became a running joke for the rest of the tour.

Both my roommate and I found ourselves being bitten by bugs at night while we slept and the lack of air conditioning in the room was noticed as well.

We got up early on the final day to leave by bus to travel to Toulouse where we would catch a plane to Split, Croatia. From Split, we would be bused into Bosnia and arrive at Medjugore.

That flight, like all our flights, was uneventful and pretty much on time. Thank God.

We stopped for lunch on our bus trip to Bosnia, and I had a ham and cheese on what in America would be called a submarine roll.

Medjugore was not why I expected. It was not a wealthy area and roads were two lane affairs that you would see in rural areas of America. Houses were often modest and unremarkable.

We arrived at our hotel which looked fairly new, but there was no air conditioning and the weather was warm.

We went up to our rooms and unpacked. And then we went to St. James Church, which was about a half mile away.? It is where the visionaries pray.

We walked around the Church to the rear where there is a large open air altar and plenty of seats for pilgrims.? A rosary was being said in a language I didn’t recognize. It may have been the local language. We stayed until it was finished and made our way back to the hotel for dinner. It was chicken and potatoes and everyone teased my roommate about there being no cheese for dessert.

Breakfast was at 7 a.m. so I decided to shower and shave the night before. The room was warm and my roommate opened the windows for air.

Breakfast was eggs and some type of meat, usually ham, and there was cereal and a watered down type of orange juice and coffee, which was half coffee, half steamed milk.

Our tour guide walked us a few blocks from the hotel to a park and had us stand for an hour or so while she lectured us on the history of Medjugore and communist rule and the Bosnia war. She told us how they tried to bomb Medjugore but the Blessed Mother wouldn’t allow it.

A lot of what she told us, I thought, could have easily been passed to us in a brochure and I was resentful for having to stand for so long for the history lesson.

Afterwards, we were allowed to walk to St. James’ Church and visits shops. Around noon, the tour guide told us to go get some lunch but to be back for the bus in half an hour. Everyone seemed to disperse quickly and I was alone so I went across the street and down a wide alley where they were shops and found a pizza place that had shade.

Not being hungry, I just ordered a coke and waited. No one else showed up. When it was time, I went back and met some of the others who were taking pictures. It was getting cloudy and someone looked up and saw a rainbow encircling the sun and started taking pictures.

Everyone was amazed at the miracle they saw.

After everyone from the group had gathered, we boarded the bus, which was air conditioned, thank God.

We drove through some narrow streets, up a hill and an around some streets and came to an area where the bus parked. It couldn’t have been a 20 minute ride.

The tour guide led us down the road, past souvenir shops, to a street sign that pointed the way to Apparition Hill, where the Blessed Mother often appears. I took a photo of the sign. We walked through a side street near occupied houses and went up a rocky path where there were statues of the Blessed Mother and some park benches opposite.

The area was known as Blue Cross. By now, the temperature was nearly 80 degrees and I was running out of water and felt going up to Apparition Hill would be too strenuous for me. So I decided to pray and stay on a bench across from a Blessed Mother statue.

The rest of the group traveled on and disappeared down through a gate. Later, I thought I might catch up but when I went through the gate, there was just a side street and more houses. No clear way to go.

I returned to the bench, and saw a scruffy cute little dog lying at the base of the statue of the Blessed Mother. He was just lying there content, and then he came near where I was and the person next to me poured some water on the ground but he wouldn’t drink it.

He let me pet him and I wanted to give him a bell rub but was afraid he might not like it.

He then went back to the statue. A short while later another woman sat near him and poured water on the ground and he licked some up.

I could identify with that dog. Being scruffy and dirty with sin and trying to stay in the presence of the Blessed Mother. I thought we had a lot in common.

After some time, I left, being almost out of water and not knowing what to do. I walked back down the path to the alley and then to the street. I spotted a café with some shade umbrellas and went there.

I ordered water and some ice cream to cool off and waited.

After my second water, I texted a fellow parishioner where I was and that I was okay. He sent pictures of Apparition Hill and said they would be down soon.

I was on my third water when I saw them at the corner that leads to Apparition Hill. I walked towards them and was informed we were walking up the street to a place where we would meet the bus at 4 p. m. It was around 2:30 or so.

We walked up the hill and went into a place for recovered drug addicts and alcoholics where a young Russian who spoke American without an accent told us his story of being adopted with his brother and going to America at a young age.

After some struggles, he was able to recover from his addiction but his brother died of the disease.

It was like being in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting but the rehabilitation center followed a different protocol, and both methods are spiritually centered.

We were allowed to write the names of people we wanted to pray for on a card and the cards would be placed on Apparition Hill. The young men in the recovery center would often carry the elderly and infirm up to Apparition Hill.

Some of us made donations and we left to go down the hill to where the bus was waiting.

When we arrived at the hotel, I went out and bought three rosaries. One was for my friend whose son has cancer, one was for my sister, and the other was for my daughter. I had also purchased a T-shirt with Medjugore on it for my daughter.

Some in our group were talking about going to a concert after dinner near St. James’ Church, and we decided to go.

It was in a building behind the Church and the room was very crowded with about 200 people. The music was pleasant but as I could not find a seat I went outside and sat down where I could still listen.

After some moments, I decided to go for a walk. I had heard about a statue of Jesus with some miraculous properties and went to go find it.

The concert room was on the left side of the church, but the Jesus statue was on the right side behind the church. It was along a path with the Stations of the Cross.

I had heard stories that the knees of the statue bleed oil at times and there is no known explanation.

After walking for 10 minutes or so, I found the statue down a path. It was 14 feet or more tall and there were a handful of people in line waiting to touch the knees and get some oil.

People would have a small cloth to wipe the oil or just use their hands. As I was waiting my turn, I began to wonder what prayer I should say to Jesus or what request, if any, I should make.

There were about five people ahead of me and some took their time and prayed long for their requests. The statue’s knees looked dry.

A man on crutches went ahead of several of us to wipe the knees of the statue. He had a deformed foot and knee and no one objected to his going out of turn.

In line I kept praying for guidance as to what to ask for and when it was my turn at the statue, I simply said to Jesus, Lord you know my heart. please keep me sober and help me to do your will.

When I looked up, there was a drop of oil, looking almost like a drop of honey, on Jesus’ knees and I took a small napkin and wiped up the precious oil.

Later, I rubbed the oil on my rosary and the three rosaries that I bought earlier.

When I got back to the hotel, one of the women from my parish asked me if I got oil at the statue, and I told her I did. And she nodded, and said, not everyone does.

I felt close to our Lord in Medjugore and close to the Blessed Mother in Lourdes. I regret not having more time at Fatima, and learning more about St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.

My Mary had visited Lisbon some years before and said it was a beautiful city with beautiful people. From what little I saw of it, I agree.

We got up at 4 a.m. to leave Medjugore for a bus ride of several hours to Sarajevo, where World War 1 began. From there we flew to Zurich, and then home.

Despite its setbacks, we were all glad we went.

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