On this section of the Camino, I am very conscious that my son has walked it before me. It makes me feel somehow connected to it. I feel his presence, that he passed these trails, these bridges, these villages. That he stayed at these albergues or had a beer or coffee at these cafes. We will talk about it someday and he will laugh and call me sentimental. In Spanish of course, and I will not understand. But I will still enjoy the shared memory.

It is a beautiful day to walk. The countryside is open farmland. There is no shade, but there is little sunshine, so all is well. We pass many enormous piles of hay, stacked in blocks. It all looks as though it were last years crop, left to rot. Some of it has grass growing on it. And if there is all this hay, where are the cattle? I see no herds of cattle. In fact, very few farm animals of any sort. Just vast fields of grass and flax. And vineyards of course. Acres and acres of vineyards.

Every Spanish village is placed on a hill! Whether you walk up or down or level, for the day, sure as you’re tired and want to enter a village or town, you have an almost vertical climb. It’s just done to spite the poor walker. It could be midday, and your starving with thoughts of lunch. It could be afternoon, when you need a beer. It could be evening, when the last drop of energy has been shed. Whenever it is, if you want to enter a Spanish village, you will find it is 100 meters above you.

On the other hand, when you finally get there. Oh! When you get into a room. Oh! When you take your boots off. Oh! Oh! And when you step into a hot shower. Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s the little things that make it all worth while. And by the way, we’re staying tonight in a refurbished palace in Viana. A refurbished palace no less. So there!