Javier and I set out this morning into a frozen mist. Frost quickly forms on our eyelashes and brows as we attempt to navigate the whiteout. Puddles of water are frozen on the trail. Our breath steams out in white plumes.
Javier and I stop in a bar and eat a traditional Spanish breakfast, a tostada. I have an idea what this should be, having enjoyed a lot of Mexican for, and so am surprised when the bartender sets a small bottle of olive oil, some salt, and a half of a toasted baguette in front of me. Javier returns from next door with two tomatoes. He cuts one in half and smears it all over my toast. Then he pours oil and sprinkles salt on my tomato toast. He looks at me and smiles, his satisfaction glowing. I take a bite. Not bad.
Javier and I meet and greet more pilgrims. Here are people from the US, Holland, Spain, Korea, and the Philippines.
We see marvelous historic churches. This area was once Muslim and the church was probably built by Muslim workers due to it’s Muslim details. This one is in the Romantic style.
Before he was a saint he was a hand model.
Glad she’s not my mom. Really, somebody should dust her off.
A donkey doing his thing. Griboulli approves.
Huh? How did Lisa get that yellow arrow pilgrim’s pin? (The yellow arrows on roads and buildings direct pilgrims) Turns out that she and Javier are friends. She also had her picture taken a couple of times today, and the story told of how she was found by the road.