Did I wonder aloud yesterday about my fear of boredom on the Meseta?? Oh no, I’m sure I didn’t. Because that might have been what brought on all today’s excitement. No, it must have been someone else.
 

 

It was raining softly when I left Bugos this morning (adiós my beautiful, scary catedral). The city looked romantic in the mist and I marveled at the play of light on the buildings and streets.

  
  
The path continued out into the countryside, the rains increased and I had occasion to learn a new equation:

Springtime rains + Camino dirt path = Camino quicksand.
  

It is true. My hiking poles, formerly “sticks of death”, have redeemed themselves. Indeed I’m not sure I could have pulled my feet out of the muck were it not for my ever-valiant, trustworthy poles. I shall never utter a bad word about them again.

 
 

 
 

 

 

 
 

One of the unexpected pleasures of knowing so little Spanish (except for restaurant items – me gusta comer!) is that I often see signs warning me of dangers – but of what I am unsure. I keep myself endlessly entertained as I speculate as to what I should be watching for or what might jump out at me.

  

 

Staying tonight at a small albergue and the señora is fixing paella for the peregrinos.  9€ for bunk, 8€ for dinner (which always includes wine – I still get very excited by this).