Leaving the old city of Burgos through a gate in the wall.

If you saw the movie, The Way, you may recognize this as the gate where Martin Sheen and companions parted ways with the Roma father and son.

Not every kilometer of the Camino is unusual or noteworthy. But nearly all of it is simply the street in someone’s town. It is at once common and extraordinary.

Check out the snails climbing these stalks.

This sign is in Tardajos outside of Burgos. Looking at the map, that puts me at almost halfway to Santiago.

It just keeps going on, doesn’t it? A perfect place for renewing solitude.

More Meseta. I’ll have this for several days.

The Meseta is a huge expanse of flat-topped mesas that range for a hundred miles or more between Burgos and Leon. Few trees and not many fountains. But lots and lots of wheat.

Hundreds of these cairns stand beside the path all along the way.

A creative gesture by those who have passed this way before me.

A long road to walk before I can stop. My goal in Hontanas.

If you see a fork in the road. . .
This is a good example of why it’s important to look up frequently. An obvious turn to the left, but easy to miss because the road looks so similar each way.

The only one I’ve seen, so far, but this emergency patrol showed up checking for lost, injured, or dehydrated peregrinos.

Marta. Hardest working woman in the albergue business. She registered guests, did the laundry, poured the beer, served the meals, and had a wicked sense of humor. Brava, Marta!

Our salon group for much of the afternoon. Five or six countries represented. Marta, one of the hospitaleros a who run the albergue, looks to be dancing, but she was attempting to leap out of the frame. Sort of a reverse photo bomb? Very kind and a great sense of humor.

Classic moment as six adults, all but one over age 50, go silent to check messages, the weather, and whatever else. We may have already become our parents, but now we are becoming our children.

Was sitting with friends over a glass of tinto when this sunset arrived.

Eila gets the shot. I sent this to her with the note, “Your expression of determination and concentration tells the world that you are a woman not to be trifled with. If that means Michael must serve as tripod, well then, so be it. Well done.”
I also wonder what the guy in the left is thinking . . . “Hmm, why didn’t I think of that?”