“It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. My mom says some days are like that. Even in Australia.”
Judith Viorst, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Ps. To be fair it’s not been all terrible… just the vomity bit.
We have a great afternoon and evening in Salamanca. After our visit to the Cathedral we decided to check into our new posh hotel… have a soak in a hot bath and wash our clothes and just relax… I might even have had a little sleep.
Salamanca que enhechiza la voluntad de volver a ella a todos los que la apacibilidad de su vivienda han gustado…
Roughly translated this says… Salamanca makes anyone who enjoyed its modest home want to return… I do…
I slept a lot of yesterday. We did wander around for a while but I prefered to be snuggled up in my embossed sheets with my fluffy warm blanket.
Service is temporarily suspended due to a particularly nasty tummy bug.
I felt cold and nauseous yesterday afternoon. By 5:30 I’d gone very pale and had to excuse myself from the group. I went to bed and through the night got more sick… which is far from ideal in a shared dorm with one bathroom.
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… In the distance they could see a field that was full of lush sweet scrummy grass, but alas there was only one way to get to it – over a rickety bridge over a stream. But under the bridge lived a terrifically terrifying terrible troll called Trevor – he was always hungry too. And there was nothing he liked better than to eat a nice juicy Billy Goat…
Our Casa Rural Jorge was a treasure. We had the entire little house to ourselves. Crisp sheets and warm fluffy blankets… soft towels and hot water and a proper bath… such heaven. Señora made us dinner at 8:00… huge salad (enough for 4) chicken paella and flan and apple for pudding… and a very nice bottle of vino tinto to wash it down with. It was home cooking at its best and I would thoroughly recommend a stay here. Continue reading
“A la sueur de ton visage
Tu marcheras la via plata
Apres long travail et usage
Voici le bar qui te convie.”
( thanks to Bill for the perfect poem for today.)
Aldeanueva del Camino was good to us. Our albergue was top notch and we found a restaurant that served a fabulous pilgrim dinner…. charcoal roasted paprika coated chicken… yummy! We met a few other pilgrims. .. French and Spanish and the Danish guy. The wifi in the albergue was so good i even managed a video call home to Gerry.
Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linner and thrush say, “I love and I love!”
In the winter they’re silent — the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving — all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he
“I love my Love, and my Love loves me!”
Last night’s hostel Austerius was a bit ‘meh’… it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great… and it wasn’t cheap. The lift back to the arch never transpired so we walked back to the path in the early morning dark. Our Danish friend ordered a taxi but it was arriving too late for us. As it happened, we walked pretty fast in the cold morning air and we made good time.
Once upon a time in Spain there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand.
All the other little bulls he lived with would run and jump and butt their heads together, but not Ferdinand.
He liked to sit quietly and smell the flowers.He had a favorite spot out in the pasture under a cork tree. It was his favorite tree and he would sit in its shade all day.
Last night there were just four pilgrims in our lovely muni… if you’re staying in Carcaboso look them up… it’s fabulous little place.
It is a misty morning
As I walk along the trail.
The fog..hanging softly
Like unto a misty vail.Silence walks the parkway
As I tread so softly there,
Enveloped in Your gentleness
My heart….it has no fear.The trees….Their faces craggy,
Stand solemnly…at large
Standing at attention
Before their mighty charge.The stream so softly gurgling
As it rushes down the way,
Swiftly flowing water…
Going to another day.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Then We Walked 