If you were to ask me to describe what the word contrast means I would tell you of my travels today in some detail. However, dear friends, you will need to trust me when I say the following photos sum up today.
I just do not have the time to type anything tonight and can only just about get these photos uploaded – if they upload!
NOPE! Sorry folks, this is just taking too long, I ‘m tired, I’ll try again tomorrow. 🙂
the story continues from yesterday
Swallows and Swifts are swooping through the narrow streets gorging themselves on unfortunate early-to-rise insects, or punishing those who are late going home after their night out. It’s impossible to take a good photo of swallows and swifts, here’s the evidence.
The walking is edging me towards Logrono along a path running through built-up areas and along-side roads. There’s not really too much to look at other than your feet so I take an interest in some of the available graffiti and other oddities. The first these photos is one our friend Dutch John took for me.
All to soon I was walking into the wide-open concrete and steel jaws of the city to be swallowed up like all the other pilgrims. It was not good walking at all but was made easier when a snack of cafe con leche and Tortilla de Patata was shared with some familiar faces including Sharon and Rob from Alberta who are sitting farthest away in this photo.
I walked through a tree-lined park with small beautifully flowered trees I couldn’t identify, and walked past a young mother lazily pushes a yawning child on swing next to couple on a bench. The couple were side-by-side staring speechlessly ahead; was that silence out of familiarity, contentment, contempt for each other? Or were they just two strangers sharing a bench in some pleasant sunshine?
Posters seem to adorn most available walls in this city.
If ever there was a stereo-typical image of the heroic matador parading around the bull-ring, their tight-fitting suits like jewelled skin, throwing knowing glances towards young senoritas who, blushing and coyly smiling behind their black lace fans come to adore their heroes and dream of love. Here are those men.
At a toe wiggle rest stop the local populace and other pilgrims are treated to the sight of two pilgrims sharing a bag of cherries and like school-children having a cherry stone spitting contest. The boy wins so the girl equalises the score by proving that girls can whistle loudly. It was all just part of what we pilgrims are relaxing into with each other.
The region on Navarra is over a day behind us now and we start to see what will soon become seemingly endless vineyards.
After a shower, laundry and a tidy up the search for a cold drink and dinner is undertaken. Our usual crowd is swelled with the arrival of Karen from England.
I take a moment to take in my surrounding. People are consulting maps, writing journals, sharing photos, exchanging stories, laughing and listening and generally being a pilgrim.
Ironically we have arrived in this town on the day of the funeral of the town
Bye for now
Steps for today 28778