Stage 26: Molinaseca to Cacabelos, 28 kms, 5.5 hrs, 17C, grey and foolish

OWell down the Road:

We are sitting in a small second story restaurant of our casa watching the peregrinos walk on by...eating a light lunch with a glass of vino tinto and contemplating the fact that today we passed the three quarter mark of our journey. Seems a bit surreal, but looking back and at our slowly shrinking bodies and well stamped credentia it's certainly happening!! Your credential, the only proof that you have walked...guard it with your life!

Up and away very early today, in the dark and in search of breakfast which we found...8 kms down the road in Ponferrada...the last major centre we will pass through before Santiago.

Cool fortress in town, but too early to poke around in so...

...we walked in for breakfast and who did we find...Ken. Not sure if he was waiting for us, but he waited while we had our wake-up and then walked on with us.

We walked a lot of pavement today and it was nice to find ourselves back in the vineyards late in the walk. It's harvest time and there are a number of folks hard at it as we pass by. These are mostly manual picking operations, unlike many of the vineyards further east.

Bar stops for snack and a bio break are very social...

And just around the corner there is always something to dazzle my eyes...

Today was actually a pretty non-descript day. They happen from time to time. Walk, walk, walk and then find a mellow place to chill out. This afternoon is shaping up that way. Annemarie has some poetry to download, and I hear there are very good cookies here...don't suppose they might be chocolate chip do you?

Found new friends today...Alida, you might like these two....

Well I guess we are on out way into the quarter stretch. Nine or ten more days should find us arriving in  Santiago.

Buen Camino!

The Rhythm  of the Walk

My brother noted that my rhyming couplets reflect the cadence of my walk 

How astute of him, it's very true, not a crock

As I walk, the click clack of my poles strike the pace

Sometimes fast, more recently slower, it's not a race

And during time when I walk in solitude

The rhymes come to me, I don't mean to be rude

I store up my reflections, and sort them into themes

For me it's a natural form of documentation or so it seems

For others the rhythm of the walk has a different impact

Some will burst into song, some dance, it's a fact 

We eventually find the right pace, our strides may be short or long

Our cadence is unique to each of us as we travel along

It also appears we each need time to walk alone at our own pace

To reflect, create, write, or just have our own space

Sometimes our rhythm will match that of a fellow pilgrim, and we will walk together

Sharing our thoughts, or simply an appreciation of the roadside heather

Our rhythm guides us and is uniquely our own

Mine often results in a new poem