I had planned to make this walk leisurely. I made a lunch date at 1:00 with Andrew and Amanda; they were staying in the same hotel in Melide.

I projected that I had to leave my hotel by 8:30. I should arrive in Melide around 12:30 in time to check into my hotel and be ready to walk to the restaurant.

After making the last check of my room, I looked out the window. Just in the middle of town (Palas de Rei) was a partial rainbow. You know what that means — rain. On went the rain pants and I adjusted my planned walk to all out because the sky was full with rain clouds.

I left town with the swarms of people. Some pilgrims got the memo to wear the same socks — clearly newbies.

The rain fell off and on until the three quarters mark to Melide. The sun broke out and off came my rain jacket. I slowed down as well because I figured that I would arrive at the hotel by 11:30. Way too early for a check in.

Surprisingly, a small church was open probably because of Holy Week. I didn’t not take a photo inside because a priest was preparing for mass. The exterior of the church was typical to Northern Spain, simple and Romanesque. What made it special was its sculpted entrance — Iglesia de Santa Maria, Leboreiro.

In addition to human pilgrims, canine ones walked alongside them. Remember Duna from the start of the hill climb out of Castrojeriz and chance meeting in Sagahun? Here’s a dog that is traveling rather than walking the Camino. I think its name fits her — Nana — really?

As I reached the bridge at Furelos, I ran into Mandy Chai whom I met at yesterday’s breakfast. This bridge must be one of the top photo op site on the Camino Frances. She encouraged or is the better word, chided me into having my photo taken with the bridge in the background. Voila, Ron at Bridge.

See those clouds in the background? In a minute after the photo was taken, the heavens opened with small pellets of hail. It has been a while since I was caught in a hailstorm. I did take a moment to capture some walking sticks at the entrance to a church just across the bridge. I wondered whether the single wooden one was a planted prop.

Even with the speed changes, I made it to the hotel by 12:15. Andrew and Amanda were waiting and we were off to Casa Alangos for lunch. Amanda wanted to try the scallops and I, the pulpo (octopus) prepared Galician style. We also ordered the cabbage salad that was topped with a healthy portion of creamy goat cheese. The house wine from Ribeira Sacra was delicious and was only 14€.

Everything including dishes not pictured (croquettes and Andrew’s beef stew) were scrumptious. Casa Alongos is the #1 rated restaurant in Melide. We agreed. Reservations recommended especially during Camino high season. Every table was taken except the one that I reserved.

Satisfied, Andrew and Amanda returned to the hotel to do laundry. I walked some of the town recounting how I joined the Camino Frances from the Camino Primitivo. The walk was short and I did the mundane task of laundry too.

The blog can’t end without dinner. I had the menu at the hotel. Salad was not on the menu so I chose the lentil soup, followed by osso bucco Galician style, and finally carrot cake with a chocolate icing top ( a new twist to the classic). All were good and acceptable. Casa Algonas should be the restaurant of choice when in Melide.

Off to Santiago to catch the high speed train to Madrid. Thanks for being part of this Camino. Every mile was different. The people were treasures. The Camino reminded me again to live in the present.

I’ll be writing soon in late June when Laird Evans, my Portuguese Camino 2021 partner, and I hike Iceland.

Breakfast started at Villajardin at 7:00. With all the Caminoites on the road, I was sitting on a bench next to the front door of the dining room at 6:45. When the doors open, forty serious people entered en masse. I quickly put my rain jacket on a chair; I was the first to the coffee maker.

I shared my table with two pilgrims from Malaysia. They are part of a different group from that led by Mr. Hoo. Grace Foo works for Emerson Electric and has a son. Mandy Chai recently retired (mandatory in Malaysia at 60) and is a grandmother of four. This is their first Camino and they started from Sarria. I told them that if they had a good experience on this Camino, they needed to return and start at an earlier point. Who knows but the seed was planted.

I also saw Elizabeth from London whose photo I didn’t take last night. I did not forget this time. What a smile.

The pilgrims at our hotel had their baggages ready for transport by 8:00. They were a very eager bunch to get started. You can see lines of pilgrims on the approach to the bridge over the Minho.

My general impression is that although the numbers must be in the thousands, I did not feel the pressure of being swept along. People seemed less feverish than the day before. I saw fewer children and dogs though we did encounter local dogs who seem to say — I own this part of the Camino.

Although members of the pack were in different places during the night and started at different times, we all came together for, of course, our mid-morning cerveza. It was clear that Amanda fit right in.

The rest of the day was spent speed walking while the going was good — no rain. We had high winds and the wind chill made it feel really cold. I am sure all of us were relieved to have checked into our respective domiciles without being drenched.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings. My last day on this Camino.

I am hard pressed to describe the feelings between walking the Camino where one is alone for miles and being swept along in an endless peloton of people.

Only 400 meters after leaving my hotel, the Camino path began receiving pilgrims from the streets it passed. It was like a river being fed by its tributaries. Within minutes, the flow increased until people were less than a few feet in front or in back of me.

Alas, the stories about Sarria are true. The Camino is no longer a path of solitude. As John put it, I felt like crossing the bridge from the parking lot to the stadium for a Raiders game. Anyone starting from Sarria will come away with a different impression of the Camino than those who began their journey at say Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, Pamplona, Logrono, Burgos, Sahugan (the halfway point), Leon, Astorga, or Ponferrada. However, it will be their Camino. I can only hope that they will meet new people and the stories of their life experiences; that they will appreciate the nature before them — the changing sky, the sound of the birds, the smell in the air. The walk in the park with Jorge and thousands more starts now.

As you look at the above photo, can you name some characteristics of a newby pilgrim? First, they are waiting in line to have their credential stamped. Second, they typically are wearing new shoes. Third, many of the women are wearing latex pants. Finally, they are mostly young people — definitely an under 30s crowd.

I caught up with Keith and John by this point. By the seven mile mark, we were ready for our near noon cerveza. Our gracious tapper poured us some Mahou. Andrew and AJ soon joined us. They had started at 9:00 about an hour behind us. They must have been jogging at times.

While waiting for my beer, I had some fun with a young pilgrim comparing his shoes with mine. He definitely stood out in the crowd.

The day still had its charms with this display of the standard white scallop shells and more colorfully designed ones.

Like a newby, I had my picture taken at the 100km marker. As I mentioned before, a pilgrim must start at least 100km from Santiago to qualify for a Compestella.

Portomarín, my final destination, appeared on the right bank of the Minho River. I last crossed this river at its mouth — the border between Portugal and Spain — during my Portuguese Camino that I walked with Laird Evans. We took a motor dinghy to cross. This time, a sturdy bridge.

On the other side was a staircase that transported one to the streets of the centro. After settling in, I did some laundry before starting this blog.

This would be a fitting end to this blog. But dinner was ahead. While ordering, a young woman at the next table suggested that I try the lentil soup. That opened up a conversation in which I learned that her father encouraged her to do a Camino. He walked the Portuguese in 2023. She was from Toronto, grew up in northern Michigan, worked in California’s Bay Area, and now lives in London. We talked about the Camino experience. I hope that she returns in the future to walk the Camino in the places before Sarria.

I don’t know what was going on in my head. I did not ask to photograph her. She has a million dollar smile.

I opted for the mixed salad, broiled hake, and the Santiago cake. To end the meal, I tried Galician vermouth. Did you know that Spain has hundreds of different vermouth and bars that specialize in locally produced vermouth? My server, Senora Cruz, gently poured the vermouth that yielded a richness that paired well with the sunset I was witnessing.

It rained last night. It rained this morning when I started out 7:30. It rained during the entire walk. It is raining now.

I am not complaining because it is, what it is. Today was the first rain day of this Camino.

The rain creates its own lighting and mood. You can see the gray fog in the background of this Peregrinos statue at the edge of Triacastela. About 200 meters down the road, the T at the intersection forces one to choose left for the Samos flatter route (18 miles) or right for San Xil hill route (13 miles). Given the rain, I chose right. What I would have encountered on the Samos route will always be a mystery.

The Irish call this kind of day — a soft day. I saw no hard edges. The crowns of trees were light green as the leaves were starting to form. Clouds lingered in between the hills. The patter of the rain sounded in my ears.

I was told that the number of pilgrims would increase once I reached Sarria. But the numbers seemed to increase from O Cebreiro and even more from Triacastela. When I stopped for a cerveza in Pintin, pilgrims went by like runners at a marathon — in twos, singles, and sometimes three or more. I rarely had a moment when I could not see a pilgrim.

While making a brief stop at a funky walled in garden with a table of refreshments for pilgrims, Oscar Ramirez told me that his mother had passed on just a few hours before. Her demise was expected. His mother’s and Juan Pablo’s grandmother’s spirit lives on in them. Here they are at dinner two nights before. I captured them in the distance as they were walking the path. They are the figures in orange.

As I reached the outskirts of Sarria, I needed a refreshment break. It was a bit passed noon. This bar restaurant looked liked a good place for a short beer. However, when I saw the menu (a la carte, no pilgrim menu), I decided to have lunch. The clincher was the Chipirones which turned out to be one of the best renditions that I have had. Below is the grill master and my server. By the time I left at 1:45, the place was full of locals.

Sarria. The closest town on the Camino Frances to qualify for a Compestella. From my room, I have a panoramic view back to Triacastela and a limited one of the centro.

Our pack reunited for the first time since Day 6 when Andrew lost his pilgrim’s credential. In the doorway of Cinza e Lume restaurant, Keith, the senior member, handed Andrew, the junior member, the credential he started with in Burgos. Andrew’s daughter, AJ, witnessed the ceremony. She is joining her father on the final days to Santiago.

We asked Keith from Connecticut who planned to dine alone to join our table. I first saw Keith at my hotel in Rabanal the morning before our ascent and descent from the mountain with the Cruz Ferro. We all agreed that was the hardest day of our Caminos.

Dinner proceed with the chef coming to our table to explain the menu and take our order. That has happened once before in my dining career. I refrained from taking photos of all the dishes. I can do that on occasion.

I ordered the Huevos that were cooked sous vide at the bottom of the bowl. On top were sliced roasted potatoes, Iberico ham, a few slices of foie gras with black truffle dust. The chef mixed the ingredients. The result was an interesting combination of flavors.

My main course was monkfish on top of mashed potatoes. The fish was firm with a subtle seafood flavor. But I am not sure coating the fish with black coloring makes the dish attractive.

Keith from Connecticut prefers old world wines. He chose a Ribera del Duero, a deeply flavored long lasting Tempranillo with soft tannins. We pronounced it excellent.

We also tried two different Albarinos. The opaque bottle yield a flavor more akin to what I would call the usual Albarino flavor – very forward, citrusy, on the acidic side. The other was smoother but did not have the punch that is expected of this wine. No drops were left in either bottle.

It was near 11:30. Although tomorrow is Sunday, we pilgrims have another stage to walk. We ended our meal without dessert. We look forward to another get together along the route.

The sunrise was colored with sublime pastels. When walking alone, I have been listening to Anne Hillerman books about Navajo policemen. One character, Bernadette Manuelito runs daily before sunrise. She has said that she walks in beauty. I agree that the Camino is a walk in beauty.

I met Keith and John — late for them (8:30), just right for me. We literally blew out of town with wind gusts of 35 mph at our backs. Except for a few uphills, most of the walk was downhill — a respite from the steep climbs and declines of the past three days. We were leaving the Cantabrian Mountain.

A few miles down the road we made a brief detour to photograph the large pilgrim statue at Alto San Roque. It seems every pilgrim makes this stop.

We walked the last steep uphill hill into Alto do Polo — clearly the high point of this stage. As the photo below shows, the fans were unimpressed.

The remaining half of the walk was significantly downhill. As I have said before, every mile of the Camino is different. I have never shared the road with cows and a bull.

After descending for another hour, all signs indicated that I was in Triacastela.

I found my hotel which has private rooms as well as rooms set up as an albergue. Here is another chance for you to see the difference between a private room and the dorm like albergue. The bunk beds in this albergue were wood veneer. The example from Day 5 when John TOFTT was metal frames. Regardless, you “sleep” with groups of people with their sounds and quirks. What’s your choice?

I am into the last four days of this Camino. The remaining stages look to be less arduous and shorter than the previous ones. Nevertheless, they will be filled with new experiences as I walk in beauty.

This walk was almost as difficult as the one two days ago. Have you seen a mountain stage of the Tour de France? For most of the stage, the course is somewhat flat with some hills thrown in here and there. And then dramatically, the mountains appear. The riders had sped easily on the flats though they used a lot of energy. When they went up the mountain, they summoned the last ounces of their strength to get to the top.

Our walk followed a similar pattern. Flat for about 13 miles that quickly changed to a 2000 feet elevation gain in the last 6 miles. Certainly a significant challenge. However, I would take the long uphill rather than the long downhill of the other day. Thank you Delia for our hill training and the power walks on the Trexler Outer Loop.

I started off at 8:15 after taking a photo of Oscar Ramirez and his 15 year old Juan Pablo. They are from Guadalajara. Oscar is an attorney and is growing a wine importing business. In addition to walking the Camino, he will meet his wife and his three other children AND meet with selected wine growers. Sweet on all levels.

The flat part of this stage followed one of the rivers that flowed through Villafranca. We walked in a valley flanked by tall mountains. Although warm, we walked mostly in shade — the perfect condition for long distance walking.

I need to digress a moment. In one of the villages, a white cat approached and threw herself on ground. She invited petting and I gladly complied. I received my first dose of kitty love in 16 days. I miss my Rooster.

After easily walking on pavement and level ground, we began our climb to the village of La Fada. A pilgrim sculpture marked the beginning of the long uphill.

I met up with Keith and John just before La Faba about a third of the way up the mountain. We all needed to fortify ourselves before the final climb to O Cebreiro. Keith and John had cerveza while I opted for two cans of Coca Cola. My friend, Eddie Rodriguez, a devotee of long distance cycling told me that my body will call out for Coke at some point during these long distance walks. I needed two cans to replenish the energy I used up to this point and to stock up on carbs for the uphill still remaining.

Near the end, I entered Galicia. Every time I looked back, I was moved by the beauty of the Spanish countryside. I reached O Cebreiro at 5:00 including three breaks. Pacing was important today.

O Cebreiro is a quaint village whose buildings are made of stone with thatched or wooden roofs. They are renovated structures or constructed to recreate an architectural style of earlier times. They do give a particular atmosphere to the village.

Dinner was my usual mixed salad, Galician soup with leafy vegetables, and white cheese covered with honey. The highlight though was the sunset that colored the sky from reds to blues. You can also see the rain falling. I loved seeing the people exclaiming oohs and aahs as the sun dropped in the sky.

No rain fell during our two days in the mountains. How fortunate we were.

Ponferrada is known for its association with the Knights Templar. One of their castles built in the 13th Century sits in the middle of the city. My hotel was 250 meters from it and on the Camino path. Too bad that it opened at 10:00. I also visited the church near the castle — note the Templar cross on the wall. The Templars also have a namesake bar. I am sure a revenue generator.

Several different Camino signs were displayed in the Ponferrada area. Here are some examples and one that was explicit — “This way Pilgrims.” It was time to say goodbye to Ponferrada.

The terrain changed quickly. We were in the heart of the Bierzo wine zone, a wine unknown to me until now. The rolling hills offered a wonderful perspective by which to view the vineyards. Old and new vines. Later in evening, I tasted a Bierzo wine but now the prime objective was to enjoy the beauty of the countryside.

While on the trail, I caught up with Hoo, one of the Malaysian contingent whom our pack had met 10 days ago. He told me that he had walked with Andrew and his friend, Brian, two days ago at Foncebadon. He and his merry group seem to be everywhere on the Camino. An interesting fact, he is 60 and has completed 32 triathlons. Mountains? No problem.

I also made the acquaintance with Amelia from Toronto. What happened to other Canadian friend, Rachel, from Day 3? We had a moment of patriot fervor singing the Canadian national anthem. I once attended McGill University’s French School in 1968. Remember a fellow named Pierre Trudeau? I was in Toronto on 25 June when his party won the Canadian general election. People were wild on Yonge Street in Toronto. Trudeaumania made an impression on this then 20 year old.

After 7 hours on the road, I reached Villafraca del Bierzo which is the gateway to another serious mountain climb before entering Galacia, the province where Santiago is located. The town is very hilly with two rivers running through it. The first photo of the church was taken from the east. I was starting a steep descent into the town. After walking one of its main streets, the Camino path took me across the river to my hotel. Another pilgrim statue was located at one end of the bridge.

My hotel was located on right bank of the river as you look at the above photo. Here is the scene from the hotel’s restaurant.

I commented earlier about what I thought was possible inflation creep in the daily menu prices. I don’t think the memo was received in Ponferrada (see yesterday’s dinner) or Villafranca. Both were 16€ or $17.32 for their three course meals including wine and bottled water. Tonight, I had another fresh salad, two lightly fried trout, and flan. Thank you chefs. They allowed me to take their photo afterwards.

I tried to write this blog before going to bed. I could not after the hand holding the iPhone repeatedly dropped to my bed covers. I opened the window and fell asleep to sounds of the river flowing by.

I awoke at 4:00 after a good sleep to write this draft. Before shutting my eyes again, here is what I saw out of my window.

Today’s hike started at 8:00 and ended almost 12 hours later. My fellow pilgrims and I were looking forward to the final climb to the Cruz Ferro and reaching the highest point on the Camino. Those who did not have Ponferrada as a final destination seemed to sense how hard the descent would be. Andrew had forewarned the rocky road ahead. They were right. This stage was one of the toughest I have ever experienced in all of my previous journeys.

The day began with a beautiful sunrise in Rabanal. I met a Berliner who was soaking in the beauty of landscape before her. She had met a Mexican woman the day before and was waiting for her so that they could walk to the Cruz Ferro together. The photo did not catch her at her best. She was animated when she talked about this moment; she was living in the present.

The first challenge of the day was making the final climb to the Cruz Ferro. If one is in shape and is carrying a light load, this part of the stage is easy. I reached Foncebadon in just over an hour. The Monte Irago albergue was hosting several pilgrims. This albergue is featured in my guidebook. Everyone gave the albergue thumbs up for its food choices. Delicious, they said, and the prices were reasonable. I sipped my cafe con leche. Did you notice the angle of the hill?

While finishing my cafe, Maria and Elise arrived. I had met them back on Day 3 in Frómista. I described them as two Spanish women who had to walk to the next town at the end of the day to find a room. Turns out that Maria is Spanish from Madrid and Elise is Basque from France. They became friends after meeting on a previous Camino and now walk segments during their vacations.

But the real story goes back to Day 5 when Andrew lost his pilgrim’s credential. We searched for it and John had delayed his departure from Calzadilla de La Cueza (after his night in the albergue) to ask the proprietor of the cafe about the credential. No such luck. We concluded that it was lost.

On Day 11 when Keith, John, and I were having dinner in Astorga, Maria and Elise walked by our table and recognized us as Andrew’s friends. They told us that they had Andrew’s credential. It was pinned to the cafe’s bulletin board. They gave it to Keith and we will return it to Andrew in Sarria. The invisible hand of the Camino works in mysterious ways.

Before reaching the Cruz Ferro (about 1.5 miles up from Foncabadon), I looked back on the Meseta with the reflections of Foncebadon’s roofs on the left of the photo. We had come a long distance.

At the Cruz Ferro, many pilgrims leave a stone as a symbolic thanks for their lives, as a remembrance of a person in their lives, or as a wish for the future. I was surprised to see Keith and John sitting on a bench near the cross. They said that they had been there for an hour immersed in their thoughts.

You might think reaching the Cruz Ferro is the climax of the day. But it’s only 10:00 in the morning. The real adventure was only starting with the treacherous and torturous trek down the mountain at least in my opinion. If one were 20 years or more younger, the downhill probably was much easier. Perhaps this memorial presaged what was ahead.

The downhill path was strewn with rocks that required zigzagging, and twisting that resulted in endless uneven footfalls. The section from the Pena de La Escurpia (the high point) to El Acebo — about 2.5 miles— was particularly steep. Along the way, a band of us formed to keep our spirits up. When we sited El Acebo from above, we all said in unison — we can smell the beer. Here we are in El Acebo with five beers and one wine.

From left to right: John and Simone from Australia, John, Jessica from Belgium, Keith, and Ron.

Alas, the rocks continued for almost another 9 miles to the outskirts of Ponferrada. My knees were fine but my right hip was very sore requiring my first pain pills of the trip. I also needed water and some Coca Cola to boost my energy. Thank goodness for the kindly bodega owner in Molinaseca. Shopkeepers and bar owners must do brisk business during the summer season. Even today, I started with my puffy down coat and ended with just a short sleeved t- shirt. It’s only early April.

I reached my hotel as the sun was setting. After collecting my wits and what energy remained in my body, I was rewarded with a most tasty meal. The salad was as fresh as can be. The pollo asado (grilled chicken) was moist with my favorite crispy skin. Add in a small dish of chocolate mousse and a half carafe of local red wine, the day ended with a sore body but with a happy spirit.

The day started somewhat cold and sunny. As Astorga was waking up, I passed some workers draping a stole across the cross that stands in the middle of the plaza mayor. Santa Semana (Holy Week) will be upon us in six days.

Every mile has a touch of uniqueness as I have said before. Here is the frame of a motorcycle that I assume was placed in someone’s memory. “Live a Great Story,” the label says. I hope that person had one and we have too.

Off and on, I have presented interesting signs along the Camino. Two of the four below are what one would expect whereas I don’t get the man pushing up one side of the archway or the die at the beginning of path into Santa Catalina de Somoza. Perhaps they are objects d’art.

We have left farmland behind in favor of pastures and cows. What I did not expect were the teepees behind the cows near the village of El Ganso. There were no signs advertising why they were there. No one was around to ask. Imagine how I would ask a Spaniard if there were — a sure skit for Saturday Night Live.

Throughout the day, I saw only 30 or so pilgrims including a priest from the Ukraine. He was as charitable as one could be about ….. We kept that part of the conversation short. It seems that early Spring is a good time to walk the Camino at least so far along this route. I’ll report numbers if they change dramatically as I am expecting starting in Sarria.

I reached Rabanal del Camino, my destination by 2:15. RDC is a quaint village with many small albergue, hostels, and hotels. I made a visit to the church that was on the main road.

I was fortunate to have another nice room at La Posada de Gaspar that included a large balcony with a clothes drying stand. I took advantage of the stand and the warm sun to do serious laundry. I enjoyed some liquid bread and potato chips while my clothes were drying.

Dinner was simple but very good. In my book, any meal with beans gets bonus points. I had beans (alubia) in a bacalao based soup, red peppers stuffed with bacalao puree, and cheese cake.The beans made the meal.

I was satisfied but tired. Because RDC is small, I had seen the highlights on my walk through the village so I went back to my room. Time for an early bedtime. Twenty miles tomorrow to Ponferrada. We will pass the Cruz Ferro, the main cross on the Camino which is near the highest elevation point of the Camino (1532 meters, 5026 feet), higher than cresting the Napoleon route over the Pyrenees (1429 meters, 4688 feet).

Time to sleep as the sun set at 8:45.

I had a restful night because of the wine by the fireplace and the peacefulness of the B&B. Dawn broke and after breakfast, I said good bye to my hosts Maximo and Mercedes. MG rates a 10.

Once I left MG, I was on the Camino trail, the same road that I was walking the evening before except in the opposite direction. That explains the Camino route through Villavante because the train tracks bisects the straight path below the village. I went up the rail bed to take a photo of the rails. The path on the left side of the photo is what I saw last evening. MG is behind the row of trees by the road. I decided to take a small rock from the bed as my souvenir rock of this Camino.

Within a few miles, I crossed the bridge at Hospital de Obrigo and shortly thereafter made a right turn to follow the Camino into the rolling hills north of the path. I encountered about 30 pilgrims on this segment. Here are three hiking up one of the hills.

My guidebook noted a snack stand at about the 25 km mark. Voila, there it was. I enjoyed a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a hard boiled egg. No prices for items; just a donation was requested. Even Bart Simpson is a fan.

The hills ended in a few miles where a large cross overlooked Astorga, a Roman outpost at the crossroads of a river and a major road. I wondered if lots of warehouses were located here back in those times. If you look at the horizon, a section of the Cantabrian mountains can be seen. Our journey tomorrow begins our crossing of those mountains.

Astorga was founded during the reign of Octavius Augustus. He gets some good press as one enters Astorga.

After climbing the hill into Old Town, my hotel was at that end of town. My room was the most spacious and upscale of the trip if you like a modern style. The room was cozy and pretty sound proof. I have been fortunate to have had excellent places to stay over the past three days in Leon, Villavante, and now Astorga.

Time for some city touring. The two main attractions is the Astorga Cathedral (Gothic with strong Renaissance influence) and a Gaudi designed home for a bishop. It now houses a museum of Camino artifacts.

The cathedral displays an extensive collection of ecclesiastical items ranging from reliquaries to vestments. In one chapel between the museum and cloisters, 3-D headsets are offered that present a tour of the exterior and interior of the cathedral — awesome. Finally, the cathedral is breathtaking with its high ceilings and Renaissance decorated alters. Well worth a journey to see.

I exhaled an exclamation when I left the church. Not as big as Burgos or Leon but it certainly has gravitas.

Immediately next door is Gaudi’s bishop’s home. Like the Casa Botine in Leon, it does not present the classic exterior designs of his Barcelona structures. Nevertheless, it certainly attract attention.

By this time, I had met up with Keith and John after a two day hiatus. We shared a repast. I had the chef’s take on a Russian salad — tuna, peas, carrots, olives, and potatoes with minimal mayonnaise, followed by pork cheeks with potatoes, and finally a flan with a spongy texture. The meal was ok. As we get close to the Asturian border, I am hoping that fabada and cachopo will appear.

Tomorrow the mountains. Adios to the Meseta — the plain in Spain.