According to my schedule, I was to have an easy day of 12 miles (20 km). No big deal. I enjoyed breakfast at 8:00. Toured the Leon Cathedral at 9:30 and the Real Colegiata de San Isidoro at 10:30. I had planned to be at my B&B by 4:00 at the latest. Alas, I had to push hard to make it by 7:00 because of a big surprise. One of my cardinal rules is to never walk in darkness. Where I am now is really dark.

Though not as large as the Burgos Cathedral, Leon is still a magnificent Gothic church. Stained glass rose windows are at the top of the nave and each transept plus rows upon rows of rising windows that cast a lovely patina onto the walls. The doorway on the side next to its cloister is still intact with some original colors. The frontal view of the cathedral shows the flying buttresses that support the high walls of the nave.

A few blocks away was San Isidoro, a fine example of a Romanesque church.

Time to get moving — 11:00. I walked by the Parador Hotel on Plaza San Marcos that was filmed in the Way. What an impressive facade that features the shells that symbolize the Camino. It was right next to the building that housed Concinandos, our one star Michelin restaurant from last night.

Across the bridge, the long walk for the next eight miles began on a main street and highway of bars, stores, and apartment buildings. There was one welcome sight during this stretch. Imagine seeing such a building with its sign in the US. The bathroom was clean and a place for a moment of relief.

A mile past the oasis, I came to a fork in the road. The guidebook opined — go to the right, more of the same. Go to the left, a walk in the countryside. Hard to say if the left fork is less traveled by at high season. During my time on it, I encountered one pair of German women. Here are highlights from this stretch.

Continue reading “Day 10 (5 April) — A Surprisingly Long Day — 20 Miles” →

The day started before sunrise at Alonso’s Cafe-Bar for breakfast. When we entered, a fellow was sitting at the counter with Alonso serving up coffee. With the lighting just so, Keith and I thought that we were seeing Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks a la España. A really universal theme of lingering in a diner.

Keith and John went on from the cafe while I returned to our pension to make final preparations for the day. It rained during the night so more gear had to be worn. Turned out it didn’t rain at all this morning; the sun parted the clouds.

The landscape was pretty much what we experienced during the past two days, Kansas in Spain. However, the scenery changed quickly as I approached Leon. First, the auto mile. Then, a Home Depot knock off. After walking through a traffic circle, León appeared in the distance.

After another two miles of walking on city blocks, I reached my hotel named Silken, Luis de Leon which is located a few blocks south of the historic zone. A modern hotel – an upscale change from what I had experienced so far. I also added an image of the view from my room on the 6th floor.

After munching on my dried soybeans and raisins, I headed out for Casa Botine, a rare Gaudi structure outside of Barcelona. The building housed the HQ of the textile firm that funded the building, a bank, and twelve luxury apartments. Designing the building was a challenge for Gaudi because the weather is much colder and wetter than what Gaudi was accustomed to in Barcelona. Different materials had to be used. The style had to fit local sensibilities. Did you know that seven Gaudi buildings are designated World Heritage sites?

One can tour three of the six floors — on the third floor, Spanish art from the late 19th century to the present were displayed. I took photos of Salvatore Dali’s depiction of the Inferno from Dante’s Divine Comedy and Baltasar Lobos’s Chest Toward The Sun.

Visiting Gaudi buildings is like hunting for and viewing Frank Lloyd Wright’s structures.

Time to chill out for the rest of the afternoon. More to come when Keith, Andrew and lifelong friend, Brian, and I dine at Concinandos, a one- star Mchelin restaurant.

About 30 minutes before our reservation time, Keith decided to bow out of dinner. So, three of us went ahead for a splendid repast of nine courses and five wines and one local beer – the Menu Leon. Here’s Brian with other tables in the background. We shared the restaurant with only eight other diners. I could hear our conversation.

I will present a few of the courses and wines that we were thought were distinctive.

The first starter — a delicate skewer of bacalao accompanied by a Spanish sparking wine.

Three other dishes caught our attention — peas topped with a crispy crust, leeks, and the monkfish. Note the beer served with the leeks and the stylized fish knife with the monkfish.

Of course, three types of desserts were served. The denouement was a tawny port with added brandy and fruit essence. A port sangria. We asked and received a second glass. We left very satisfied despite facing the walks back to our respective hotels in the rain.

What this area is lacking in scenery is certainly filled by friendly people. Maria, the owner of La Costa del Adobe in El Burgo Ranero, gave all of us big hugs when we left her hostel after breakfast. Do they give such hugs in Kansas, Toto?

Off we went along a straight road until it took a right hand turn after seven miles. Yes, it is flat. Yes, the road is like those straightaways in the Midwest. But the landscape is beguiling in its own way. The road is deserted and the fields often are bathed in a multitude of colors. I kept thinking — Toto eventually found his way home.

We eventually reached Reliegos, a bit more than halfway to our destination. Time for a beer. While enjoying our beers, Andreas and Duna appeared. Since we welcomed them to our pack, they have been faithful members. This was our fourth meeting on the road.

As we left Reliegos, we were lead by the ubiquitous yellow arrows and a clearly laid brick line that was capped with the Camino scallop shell. People on the Camino route take pride in their association with the Camino.

We made our final push for Mansilla de las Mulas. We have observed a strong regional pride on the directional signs on the Camino. We are in Leon. The Camino sign below showed that Castilla was crossed and whited out. In Castilla, Leon was erased, After centuries, deep regional pride still reigns even after the provinces were combined in 1983. Old identities die slowly, if ever.

After settling into our hotel, we all did our laundry before searching for a bar. We found one in the middle of town. Besides beer, I tried their Albariño — 2.40 Euro for a good pour. By 6:00, the place was filled with locals. Keith and John blended in by playing cribbage and gin. I did too by typing away on my iPhone.

The menu of the day at the Albergueria del Camino was satisfying. I had asparagus wrapped in Serrano ham, a broiled sea bream, and Greek yogurt with local honey and walnuts. A good ending for the day. We weren’t in Kansas after all. Tomorrow, Leon.

I forgot to present a summary of John’s experience in the dorm-like albergue. After listening to his story, he definitely took one for the team.

I included a photo of the bunk beds in Day 5. John had his choice of bunks. He chose one of the down beds. Turns out he was next to a grizzly bear snorer on one side and a video game player on the other. After an hour, he had to tell the video game player to silence the sounds coming from his computer. The snorer went merrily on throughout the night.

The albergue provided the mattress, bottom sheet, and if one asked, a thin blanket. Most people who stayed in this albergue carried a sleeping bag or a liner and put it on top of the mattress. No towels are provided. The toilet had a sign asking everyone to sit when using it. Imagine what it would be like at night when males tried to aim. Hum, too much information. I was thinking what the dorm would be like in the summer when fully occupied. I should add that the dorm is co-ed.

No breakfast is provided. John came back to the hotel to take a shower. He needed a nap before heading out after us and before check out time. His behavior tells a lot about the quality of his sleep.

As I wrote before about staying in an albergue, NOT. I don’t need to suffer like pilgrims of old and the present.

The Camino can’t be at the top of its game everyday. I think that we finally reached the diminishing or is the better word, diminished returns of the Meseta.

We did have some bright spots on today’s walk. While walking out of Sahagun, we went by the archway that led to the Plaza Mayor. To our left was an unusual Camino marker. Note the gourd on the staff. That was used to carry water before our canteens and plastic bottles. How about those bronze sandals at the base of the rock?

We walked about seven miles before we entered Bercianos del Real Camino. A white box on a pedestal caught my eye. This was the third “free library” stand that I have seen in Spain. I am putting together a photographic print of the many such book boxes I have run across over the past five years. Good to know that book sharing is alive and well in northern Spain.

We reached the outskirts of El Borgo Ranero by 11:45. That time is earliest I have arrived at the end point of any walking stage. Before checking into our hotel, we stopped at our first opportunity to eat lunch at a small bodega, La Tienda del Sol.

Marissa was behind the counter. What an engaging personality. Keith and John each had a slice of tortilla. Andrew opted for the chorizo bocadillo (sandwich). I asked for a queso bocadillo. Along with the beers and sodas, we were almost satisfied. John and Andrew bought bags of Doritos, one of great American exports.

Andrew started on his next leg of 6 plus miles. We checked into our hotel. One thought that I can’t get out of my mind is — where are all the people in this village? I took this image of Main Street at 1:00. Not everyone is having a siesta break or are they?

The early arrival gave me another opportunity to catch up on reading and writing this blog. But 6:30 came sooner than expected. We were out the door to find Hostel El Peregrino for dinner.

We all agreed that this dinner was the best so far in terms of home cooking. The dishes were familiar but the portions were generous and well prepared.

Our starters were smoked salmon and goat cheese salad, and paella. Starters? They were about what we eat for an entire meal. Then came the mains: fried squid for Keith, roasted chicken for John who did not want his plate photographed (?), and my bacalao (cod fish). We ended with flan and apple tart. Each dessert plate was well dressed with a dollop of whipped cream. The vino tinto was produced about 5 km down the road. Everything was delicious.

We could tell that the entire operation was a multi-generational effort. Here is the family: grandmother, daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.

As I have written before, the Camino contains many surprises. Even in one of its most uninteresting sections, beauty can be found.

Keith and I started off a half hour after sunrise. The sky was yellow and blue with a tinge of red. Another good day ahead. Sunshine throughout the walk.

About an hour out, we caught up with two women from upstate New York. One of the women, Faye, was walking to honor her husband who passed on one year ago today. Keith then told me that his wife died 18 months ago to this day. He said, “We belong to a club that you don’t want to belong.” A special moment on the Camino.

Sharon has said that inevitably I leave something behind on every trip that I take. Well, today was just the opposite. I received a message from Camino Ways that I needed to call last night’s hotel. Did I have my room key? I arranged with Natalie who was the front desk clerk, bartender, server, and concierge to pick up the key at the town where Keith and I took a break – about seven miles down the road. Within 30 minutes, she was there. She thanked me in her professional and cheery way. Her demeanor was similar to all of the service people that I have met on the Camino.

Various arrows kept us on the path as we walked through fields with rolling hills until we reached the stone marking the border of Leon. Within a half mile, we were walking between two statues that signified the halfway point of the Camino from the French border to Santiago. Pretty cool.

Within minutes, we entered Sahagan, our destination. The town had supported the painting of two murals that welcomed pilgrims on the Camino.

The good feelings kept coming. We were given the “Buen Camino” from patrons in the Temple Bar. We were reunited with Duna who had joined our pack on Day 3. His owner Andre from Navarra directed us to the tourist office where we received (paid three euros) a certificate recognizing that we were in Sahugan, the mid-point of the Camino Frances.

After all of this excitement, I retreated to rest at our hotel, the Domus Viatoris, which was once a convent. I think that the lions were an add on.

We all retired early. Andrew will be doing a 20 miler tomorrow. The rest of the pack will do about 13 miles but will walk with Andrew part of the way. Our first rain is predicted for tomorrow afternoon.

I start this blog with a view of Carrion’s plaza mayor below my window. A beautiful scene at sunrise.

I left my hotel for Bar Pichi’s for breakfast about 400 meters down the road. The place was hopping at 8:00. The place was compact – enough room for three tables and the bar. The only seat left when I arrived was at the bar. Otherwise, it was standing room only. I took the image below so that you can see a very typical breakfast scene of a bar in action. The baristas were making 5-6 cups of different coffee offerings per minute. Starbucks? Pshaw.

I was now fortified to start on the Camino and rejoin the pack across the Rio Carrión. A beautiful castle overlooked the river as I crossed the bridge.

My friends were staying at the elegant 4-star Monestario that indeed was once a Monestery.

While waiting in lobby, a large group of young people came through. The young men looked liked basketball players. They were from Cornell College, Cedar Rapids. One of the moms joined in; she is a Hawkeye graduate. Sorry to those Cyclones in our family; none were to be found. I think that you can tell who the non-Iowan is in the group.

They were touring the Camino in 10 days choosing the most picturesque sections. They were on to Leon which is four days away. This busload of Americans changed in an instant the demographics on the Camino!

The previous two days showed the varied terrain of the Meseta. Now, we were experiencing the long flat terrain that seemed endless until we reached our destination of Calzadilla de la Cueza, a village that you could walk through in a minute.

When we got to town, I thought that my hotel was in front of us. I checked in and the clerk handed me a small towel enclosed in a plastic bag. He said that I had bed 15. Whoa. Bed 15, not room 15? I was in the dorm albergue and not my hotel of the same name. I thanked him upon leaving after I took a photo of the dorm room. To get the albergue experience, John is foregoing his room in the hotel for a bed in the albergue. NOT!

Before making my way to the hotel, I stopped with the pack for some cerveza. Charles from Australia had caught up with us. Note the brace on his left knee. He walked the Camino from St Jean (lower route over the Pyrenees because the upper opens in 1 April) and is planning to finish in Santiago. He had his knee replaced seven weeks, yes, weeks, before he started in St Jean. Amazing willpower and desire. Rehab was too boring for him.

The hotel was about 200 meters away from our cerveza stop. Keith and I checked in.

Happy Hour!

We ordered two large frosted glasses of cerveza. Across from us was a table with the green felt cloth, cards, and metal chips that we observed with the players from Bar Central. The felt cloth had the Pepsi logo. How did Coca-Cola lose out when its sign is above the hotel entrance? The cards were indeed different from our decks. The metal chips were not euro coins. John found out that the game played in this region is called “mus.” The table was open to any patrons who wanted to play.

Dinner was the usual three course pilgrim’s meal. I started with a salad (very fresh), a soup with chorizo, Serrano ham, and an egg though I wanted beans but they were out of any servings, apple tart, and local vino tinto. Delicious.

I had two bonuses today. Kitty love from a cat who looked like our beloved cat, Sherman. And, a sublime sunset from my window.

The morning started in darkness. Took me a while to figure out that Europe went on to daylight time.

We were on our way at 8:45. It was an easy day – 12 miles. We had good signage throughout. Hard to miss our route.

We made great time reaching Villacazar de Sirga — the three-quarters point before noon. Time for our cerveza break.

While we were relaxing, a group of Malaysian pilgrims came by. We had seen them before. They are a spirited group and seem to flow easily along the Camino. They flew 19 hours from Kuala Lumper to Paris and then to took the train to Spain. They will be going all the way to Santiago.

As we left Villacazar, I met my fourth American. The Malaysian contingent outnumbers Americans at this point on the Camino. Tucker is between jobs. He was suffering some serious foot issues at the moment. We ran into him early morning as we were leaving Fromista. He was keeping an excellent pace (just under 20 minutes/mile) considering his injuries. We left him as he cooled his feet.

We were closing in on Carrion des Los Condes but many kilos remained for the days ahead. We reached Carrion before 2:00. Finally, some down time for a nap (I don’t know what the rest of the pack did).

The Happy Hour call went out for 4:00. We went to one of the few bars that was open on Sunday— the Bar Central. A classic.

The patrons were all men of our generation gathering to shoot the xxxx and to play card games unknown to us. We sat at a corner table where green felt mats were neatly folded on a rack above us. Locals came up and took them one at a time. They spread them out on the tables and money was placed on top to wager on the games. The coins looked like pocket change.

The players and their fans were very animated. They slapped down cards. They whooped it up and had wide grins when they won. They winced when they threw out the wrong card.

When we were finished with our cervezas, I asked the players at the nearest table if I could take their photo. They gladly agreed. I had wished that I was an anthropologist who spoke Spanish.

The sun was setting. Following Spanish custom, I dined at 8:30. No one spoke even a smidgen of English at La Marbella, a bar restaurant on the edge of town. The menu was very limited. I opted for a mixed salad, a soup that turned out to be tomato, and rice pudding. I asked for cerveza y vino tinto. I used the y because I didn’t remember the word for or. I got a tall glass of beer and a full bottle of red wine. I was one happy puppy at the end of the evening. To be honest, I drank only one glass of the vino and the cerveza. I was still a happy puppy.

Days on the Camino begin in earnest at 6:30. My blog’s draft gets as many revisions as necessary after a night’s sleep. My suitcase gets packed because it must be in the lobby by 8:00. Breakfast starts around 7:30 except when the hotel’s scheduled time is later.

As I was ending my breakfast this morning, our two Englishwomen from the previous night came into the restaurant. They were dressed to the nines for their next leg which was half of what we were doing today. Later, we met two young Englishmen who were walking twice our distance. The beauty of the Camino is that you can walk the Camino your way.

I met the guys shortly thereafter and we started out zekkoucho style (Japanese meaning with vigor — I learned the word from my friend, Aoyama, when we walked the 88 temples) to tackle the hill before us. The elevation gain was 500 feet. On the way, two Caminoites joined our pack.

Duna is a Shar Pei who walked right up the hill weaving around us while minding her own business.

As we climbed hill, Rachel from Thunder Bay, Canada who is all of eighteen provided silent cheerleading that boosted our energy as the hill became steeper. Knowing someone from Thunder Bay is like knowing someone from Greenland, eh?

She is taking a gap year after graduating from high school. She has applied to the University of British Columbia. Besides traveling, she is writing papers for a company that produces electricity from locally donated compost. The project is located in Uganda. Here is Rachel at the top of the hill. After walking with us for another mile, she bid us good bye. We saw her later at our cerveza stop. We are sure that we will see her again.

One of the wonders about long distance walking is looking back from whence you have come. Remember that hill with the castle on top from yesterday? Check it out in the distance. You can also make out the road that we had just walked.

Soon we entered the Provencia of Palencia.

The government of Castilla y Leon could not leave well enough alone. Here is a billboard next to the stone marker that I am sure they are proud to display.

It was now 2:00. We had waited to have lunch until the town of Boadilla del Camino. We were searching for a place to eat. We were desperate and on the edge of leaving the town. I was ready to break out my dried soybeans and raisins. A local driver went by us and luckily stopped about 20 meters away. John asked him where we could find some food. We should have turned left instead of right at the juntos in the town center. The albergue was off the Camino route but next to the main church. Dah, pilgrims of old had to eat and sleep after saying their prayers. We knew we reached the right place — BAR! The door was open.

I enjoyed our three course meal plus vino. Soup with garbanzo beans, marinated chicken, and homemade custard. All for 14 Euros. We engaged in serious conversation about how walking after eating is helpful for digestion and maintaining weight. I wonder how many more times we will discuss this topic. Will this prescription work for us?

We had three miles left to go. Who knew that the Canal of Castilla was nearby. A tour boat streamed by with the tourists filming us and we them. The scene reminded me of Henri Matisse’s painting of the Canal du Midi. As we crossed the canal at the point where we entered the town of Fromista, we saw a cascading flow of water where there were once locks to lift and drop boats through the canal. The canal’s construction started in 1753 and it was finally operational in 1849. Can you imagine if a construction project in the US lasted 96 years?

We were pretty tired when reached the town proper. We went our separate ways to our hotels. Luckily, we had rooms. In the square that my hotel fronts, two Spanish women whom we had met before on the road said that they found no vacant rooms and were forced to walk to the next town to find accommodations. Even in March before the start of the season, reserving a room ahead of time is a must.

Here is the Iglesias St Martin of Tours which is a stone’s throw from my hotel to the left in the photo. The church will be tomorrow’s meeting point.

Time for a good night’s sleep after dinner. What happens if I don’t walk afterwards?

The four of a kind transformed into the pack of pilgrims. Our B&B owner drove us back to Hornillos del Camino, the town where we each turned to reach Isar. On one of buildings, we saw a plaque that recognized the movie, the Way. Keith, John, and Andrew said that the movie significantly influenced them to consider walking the Camino. We heard that comment from others that we met on the road.

It was 8:45 and the townspeople seemed to be getting started with their day. We saw only five other pilgrims this early in the morning. Throughout the day, we probably saw about 20 in all. We all commented about how peaceful this journey has been. Late March is good time to walk the Camino to avoid the hundreds who come later.

We all agreed that the Meseta had received a bad rap. It is not completely flat as the guide books describe though there are some flat sections. The terrain is quite varied – as I said before, every mile is different.

The church in the picture above was being renovated. Unlike construction sites in US, we walked in and saw a work in progress. I wondered if we would have witnessed a similar scene on an logarithmically grander scale at Notre Dame in Paris.

As we reach the three-quarter mark, we encountered the Abbey of San Anton, 14th century. Totally abandoned with a road running under one of its supporting buttresses. I have never seen a road bisecting a church structure. It was purposeful because the main entrance was under the buttress.

As we left the Abbey, we caught the first glimpse of Castrojeriz in the distance. We could see what looked like a castle at the top of the hill behind the town. After we checked into our various B&Bs, Keith, Andrew, I walked up the hill to great a close up of the castle. Hence. The plus two miles.

What remarkable views. We could see the road from where we entered the town. We could appreciate the road on which we would hike tomorrow that will snake uphill into the mesa beyond to the west. I even decided to have my picture inside the castle. Too bad John missed the views; he needed some sleep,

The sun was beginning to set. The bells began to ring the time, 6:30; dinner was set for 7:30 at the El Meson, just around the corner from my hotel.

Andrew joined me for dinner. Our host was Arancia who wore a Brooklyn t-shirt. At the next table were two women from England, Helen and Caroline. We engaged in a lively conversation about football, BBC TV, and the general state of the world. Mixed into the conversation was our dinner: beans for me, lentil soup for Andrew. We both ate salmon and we swooned over the homemade rice pudding. Did you notice something in salmon photograph that we rarely use in America? The cost of the three courses plus wine and bottle water was 13 Euros each. Perhaps inflation is not as rampant as one thinks. I need to do more sampling. I can say that the cerveza at our afternoon break was still only 1.70 Euros.

Throughout the day, we began to reveal ourselves to one another. Keith was a colonel in the Air Force. He was a medical doctor. During the last five years, he took care of his wife Sara of 57 years before her passing. Though he has met another partner to share his life, he has dedicated this Camino to Sara. His brother is Randy Stollemeyer, long time University of Pittsburgh wrestling and well known to Lehigh faithful,

John was a Los Angeles County deputy sheriff for 34 years – 24 years on motorcycle patrol. He was born in Detroit, spent his early years in Mexico City, and then moved to Southern California. He is Spanish and Basque. He is thinking about doing the Northern route sometime because it traverses the Basque land.

Andrew is a labor attorney. Turns out that he is a good friend of Keith’s son. Who knew. He will be meeting a friend in Leon who will walk with him to Sarria. His friend will leave from there for home but his daughter who currently lives in London will join him for the final days to Santiago. He has wanted to walk the Camino for several years but work interfered with finding the time. He committed to come this year; he left his computer and work behind.

To show you how small the world is, a man named Emilio dined at our restaurant whom I later ran into at my hotel. He is from Garda, Asturias. I asked him if he knew the woman who owns the B&B that I stayed in two years ago. Of course, said he, and proceeded to tell me about her and her family’s history.

The Camino is not just a physical path. It also offers those who walk it the opportunity to gain insight into what makes us human. It is the Way.

When I landed in Madrid at 9 AM on Wednesday — two days ago, the skies were blue and bright with the temperature around 55. In the distance were snow capped mountains with dark clouds behind them. Not surprising because the climate of the region to the north of mountains is influenced by the Bay of Biscay (recently renamed the Gulf of Galacia – just kidding). Burgos and the Camino are in the north.

I awoke to dark clouds and 31 degrees, no rain in the forecast. I still packed my rain gear just in case.

I departed around 9:00. I was a bit off the Camino trail because of my hotel’s location. I walked towards the cathedral to pick it up.

On the way, I passed by an immense stone structure that now houses a cultural museum. The entrance was stunning. The sign to the side wrote that Christopher Columbus presented himself here to the monarchs (Ferdinand and Isabella as all American children know) after his second voyage to the Americas. I put my hand on the stone wall to absorb the spirit of that journey and history.

I have found that exiting cities are sometimes challenging including Burgos. Try finding the yellow arrow signifying the way. Arrow #3 is a softball.

The Meseta is indeed an expansive place but it isn’t that different from other generally flat rural spots like Estella to Arco to the east. Pilgrims do experience a steady climb during this segment until they reach the end of the valley with a steep downward path near Hornillos del Camino where I turned right to reach my B&B for the night in Isar.

Along the way, I stopped at a small chapel while leaving Rabe de Las Calzades. Senora Marita greeted me. We had a brief discussion about the Blessed Virgin, the Camino, and whether I was Catholic. She took the news pretty well that I was baptized Catholic but I had “fallen away” as the nuns once said about me. In spite of my religious state, we took a selfie. I am squinting in pain for having my photo taken.

Isar is a small village. The Hotel Rural La Consulta is in the middle of the village with a small bar and dining room. My room is the usual clean but no frills variety. Below is an image of the village out of my window at about 7 PM – dinner time.

I took a few photos of the three course meal: a delicious lentil soup (non vegetarian), pork slices with salad, and flan. We were served a glass of decent Rioja. I wondered whether inflation had caught up in this region. On my previous Camino Primitivo and the eastern segment of the Frances, I was presented with a full bottle of wine or at least a half carafe. In any case, one glass was sufficient.

But the treat of the night was that all four diners who are staying here have been (that’s me) or are currently living in Southern California. I never experienced four Americans in one B&B at one time, let alone four Southern Californians. Keith and John started in Pamplona ten days ago while Andrew started this morning in Burgos. The trio will be going all the way to Santiago. As far as we know ( a pretty limited sample), Keith also holds the title for now as the oldest person walking Camino (80). Darn, nothing I can do about this one.

Today reminded me of one of the Camino’s principles: Live in the present,