Published: 2006-01-01 By Murrough O'Brien
In a sense, the subtitle says it all: "Two women, two horses, one pilgrimage". Mefo Phillips and her sister, Susie, decided to travel from Canterbury to Santiago de Compostella on horseback. Mefo is a sceptic, Susie a mystic. There is a sombre backdrop to their journey, but chins are kept up, reins tight, and the predominant note is major.
What, nowadays, constitutes a pilgrimage? Perhaps, Mefo Phillips suggests, what has always characterised it. You'll get believers (like her sister and some they meet on their trail), charlatans, doubters, honest sceptics (like Mefo), sighing Sancho Panzas (Mefo's husband, Peter); above all, you will meet kindness in unexpected places. These two pilgrims were lucky in the people they met; I simply don't recognise the France she portrays. Phillips has great charm as a narrator, and it's easy to see how she could match it in person. But the reader is soon punch-drunk on the succession of events: gîte succeeds gîte, charming host succeeds charming host; churches are visited, but never for too long; breezy observations are offered.
Sooner or later, though, the spiritual has to intrude on a pilgrimage, however much practicality may be required for its successful execution. Otherwise, what's the point? It seems rather mean to ask of this delightful book where its substance lies, especially when its actors are nothing if not substantial - but you have to. I was left humbled by their dedication, but puzzled by what drove them on.
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