I'm lying below an acorn tree, my backpack as a
pillow, resting for a moment on the journey to Salamanca. I'm excited to arrive
in this ancient city, yet savoring the journey. Each step thoughtful, thankful.
Looking out across the hills, forested with acorn (bellota) trees, it feels like time has stopped. The sky is blue, cloudless, a light breeze blowing. And birds, chattering, whistling, cooing. The occasional moo of a cow. Natures chorus. I am at this moment at peace. Peace inside, peace outside.
In Fuenterroble we stayed at a Monastery run by Fr Blas. Payment is by donation only if one is able. All are welcome. There were 11 of us that night, and A from Milan gave us the gift of preparing an Italian dinner. (A is 70 yrs young, and walks twice as fast as me despite his feet that are plagued with blisters. He is charming and funny! He taught Stacy and his motto for walking "if it's not broken, you walk!")
Stacy and I were assigned the task of setting the table, gathering flowers (or whatever we could find) as centerpiece. This meant that Stacy enjoyed a glass of wine and supervised by saying 'good job Juli'; a division or labor that works for us and makes us both laugh.
The meal was delicious; doubly so because I knew that A was exhausted from walking that day yet he still wished to cook for all of us. (Although A is especially charming and kind, we meet and get to know people like him every day along the camino. This is one of the greatest gifts from walking.)
That night at dinner, in Feunterroble the conversation was lively; animated. I could understand very little of what was being said, catching a word here and there, but what translates always is the joy of coming together. The delight in resting after a day of walking. The pleasure of sharing a good meal. The laughter.
In Galisteo I had dinner with 4 Australians and an Italian. I realized that was the first time in almost a month that I'd sat at a table where the conversation was in english. That night was enjoyable but there is something wonderful added to the evening when I am forced to listen extra carefully to understand. There is almost always someone who translates in to English, or from English to French, German, Spanish, Italian.
But nobody has to translate the laughter. It is a universal language.
Last night in Salamanca we said farewell to C from Milano. He will return next year to walk from Salamanca to Santiago.
And we said arrivederci to our 2 Italian guardian angels.
The goodbyes are sad, but soon we will meet again.
Looking out across the hills, forested with acorn (bellota) trees, it feels like time has stopped. The sky is blue, cloudless, a light breeze blowing. And birds, chattering, whistling, cooing. The occasional moo of a cow. Natures chorus. I am at this moment at peace. Peace inside, peace outside.
In Fuenterroble we stayed at a Monastery run by Fr Blas. Payment is by donation only if one is able. All are welcome. There were 11 of us that night, and A from Milan gave us the gift of preparing an Italian dinner. (A is 70 yrs young, and walks twice as fast as me despite his feet that are plagued with blisters. He is charming and funny! He taught Stacy and his motto for walking "if it's not broken, you walk!")
Stacy and I were assigned the task of setting the table, gathering flowers (or whatever we could find) as centerpiece. This meant that Stacy enjoyed a glass of wine and supervised by saying 'good job Juli'; a division or labor that works for us and makes us both laugh.
The meal was delicious; doubly so because I knew that A was exhausted from walking that day yet he still wished to cook for all of us. (Although A is especially charming and kind, we meet and get to know people like him every day along the camino. This is one of the greatest gifts from walking.)
That night at dinner, in Feunterroble the conversation was lively; animated. I could understand very little of what was being said, catching a word here and there, but what translates always is the joy of coming together. The delight in resting after a day of walking. The pleasure of sharing a good meal. The laughter.
In Galisteo I had dinner with 4 Australians and an Italian. I realized that was the first time in almost a month that I'd sat at a table where the conversation was in english. That night was enjoyable but there is something wonderful added to the evening when I am forced to listen extra carefully to understand. There is almost always someone who translates in to English, or from English to French, German, Spanish, Italian.
But nobody has to translate the laughter. It is a universal language.
Last night in Salamanca we said farewell to C from Milano. He will return next year to walk from Salamanca to Santiago.
And we said arrivederci to our 2 Italian guardian angels.
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