“Lourdes? But it’s for religious fanatics! They’ve got the tackiest stuff there. I’ve heard of the holy-water bottles shaped like the Virgin Mary and hologram postcards and … ”

Lourdes, a town in southwestern France at the foot of the Pyrenees, is noted for its Roman Catholic shrine marking the site where the Virgin Mary is said to have appeared repeatedly to Saint Bernadette in 1858. For my upcoming trip, I was sent off with snickers and sarcasm.

Few places arouse as much reaction (and derision) as Lourdes does. Many of these reports revolve around the endless souvenir kitsch, the fervent religious devotion and dubious claims of miracle cures. I couldn’t wait to see the spectacle for myself.

With a population of about 17,000, this small town receives 5 million pilgrims per year drawn by their faith in the healing powers attributed to the waters of the shrine. More than half of the visitors are made up of the sick and elderly.

At mass, stretchers pull up in front of wheelchairs.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines pilgrimage as “a journey to a sacred place or shrine,” with a pilgrim as “one who embarks on a quest for something conceived of as sacred.” The abstract definitions meant little to me. But perhaps even jaded travelers could uncover inspiration in Lourdes, the most beaten of paths.

Along Boulevard de la Grotte, one of the main streets in Lourdes, endless paraphernalia seduced from wall-to-wall souvenir shops. I came across a black-and-white photo of 14-year-old Bernadette Soubirous, whose visions brought the city its recognition.

Though a round-faced brunette with thick eyebrows in life, she was widely depicted as a fair-haired child with a lamb. A marketing department somewhere had turned her into a poster pinup for God.

Even though I had been warned that it was “just a dent in the hills,” the Grotto of Massabielle, where the Virgin is said to have appeared, was anticlimactic. From behind the sea of people, I caught a glimpse of the Virgin Mary statue and objects hanging from the ceiling and walls of the grotto.

On the other hand, the nearby spring known for miracle-cure capabilities was an impressive gusher. A very efficient system of faucets sprouted from a curved metal railing on the side of a hill. When pushed, the timed taps released energetic streams of water. It all seemed much more suited to a campsite or a sports stadium than as the source of a holy spring.

Families lined up at the taps with 5-gallon (19 liter) jugs. A woman rubbed her feet with determination under an endless stream of holy water, and young people refilled their Evian water bottles. Everyone had a different method of stocking up on holiness.

The visual centerpiece of the sanctuaries was the Basilica of the Rosary, built 13 years after the apparitions. The breathtaking affair of spires and towers with gold detailing gave the place a surreal, fairy-tale air.