Usually I make bullet points, lists, or just jotted notes in my journal to blog about more elaborately later, but for the most part todays notes have kind of a nice rhythm, so I´m going to post them basically as-is.Lovely day. Sunny but cool. Rolling hills. Primary pallette - Blue sky, yellow wheat, red poppies. Broken occasionally by verdant green sunflower fields. Sunflowers just on the brink of opening. Most tightly closed as fists or faces locked up in dreams. A few open and yellow. Early bloomers.
The storks do not approve of our arrival at the
albergue. They clatter away on the church steeple with more regularity than the bells. I´ve heard that to have a stork on your roof brings good luck. If that´s true, Spain must be the luckiest country in the world. (Nearly every high roof has at least one, some several, stork nests. Storks do not have a regular bird-song. I´m not sure if they make their noise by popping air in their throats, or if it is by chattering their beaks together, but it sounds like the clapper noisemakers you spin between your palms)The albergue is in an old theatre adjoining the oldest church in town. What were once the stage and orchestra seats are now the kitchen and common room. Our beds are in the balcony. The pretty courtyard is strung-through with washlines. You can always tell an Albergue by the excess of laundry strung out all around.
The Hostellier is Swiss. In the summer months the Friends of Santiago use Swiss volunteers at this hostel because they speak so many languages. She pointed us up the (STEEP)
hilll to the ruins of the old castle to watch the sunset over the town. A perfect end to a nearly perfect day.
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