The Romand road from outside Carrion de los Condes to Cadazilla de la Cueza is stony and hard on the soles for those who wear soft soled running shoes. Make sure you life your feet high and don´t hit many stones along the way.
The straight as arrow trail is lined with purple blue wild flowers all the way of 16 kms or so. Look carefully and among the blue drift, you will see clumps of Lavender here and there. Stop a while to smell the heady aroma of Lavender in the sun.
The dominant colours today are purple blue, yellow and white. Red poppies are not on the scene but the red earth of the recently tilled land offers different photo opportunity. I stop a lot, stare around and wish against my wish that my mind´s eyes will remember all these beautiful things forever (apart from my Kodak memory disk).
We halt for the night at Cazadilla and at dinner at the hostal Camino Real, I have been watching the peregrinos who come in from the albergue(only one eating place in the village). What I love about travelling in Europe is the linga franca - none is dominant. You hear German, French, English, some other east European dialects, rare Spanish. Unfortunately, none speak Thai (my mother tounge).
Wonder what that old man sitting by himself over there thinks about and the lady I met the other night seems to be ordering the same kind of drinks. Wish I could join as their dining companion and talk about their days.
Bon apetit, all of you (the menu peregrino is really wearing me down).
The straight as arrow trail is lined with purple blue wild flowers all the way of 16 kms or so. Look carefully and among the blue drift, you will see clumps of Lavender here and there. Stop a while to smell the heady aroma of Lavender in the sun.
The dominant colours today are purple blue, yellow and white. Red poppies are not on the scene but the red earth of the recently tilled land offers different photo opportunity. I stop a lot, stare around and wish against my wish that my mind´s eyes will remember all these beautiful things forever (apart from my Kodak memory disk).
We halt for the night at Cazadilla and at dinner at the hostal Camino Real, I have been watching the peregrinos who come in from the albergue(only one eating place in the village). What I love about travelling in Europe is the linga franca - none is dominant. You hear German, French, English, some other east European dialects, rare Spanish. Unfortunately, none speak Thai (my mother tounge).
Wonder what that old man sitting by himself over there thinks about and the lady I met the other night seems to be ordering the same kind of drinks. Wish I could join as their dining companion and talk about their days.
Bon apetit, all of you (the menu peregrino is really wearing me down).
