The first half of the day was muddy, sloppy and wet. I walked with Chloe, a fellow midwesterner from Lincoln, Nebraska, as the trail turned to a river, and the new road a mud pit. We slipped, slid and sunk, shoes caked and heavy.

But the rain only fell for about an hour (I even saw some blue sky for about 10 minutes), a marked improvement over yesterday.

There is sun in the forecast for Monday; I’ll believe it when I see it.

It’s been nothing but bad luck when it comes to the weather. But I think the head of broccoli I bought a few days ago brought me good food luck. For the last five nights, I have enjoyed healthy veggie filled dinners, and my stomach couldn’t be happier.

The broccoli was was followed by a colorful salad overflowing with peppers, olives, onion, tomato and hearty greens. Then, Chip (the Romanian vegetarian) and I made Spanish pisto filled with zuchini, eggplant, onion, garlic, peppers and tomato.  Last night, was an amazing lentil soup and thai vegetable curry at the cozy and incredibly friendly Albergue Verde in Hospital de Orbiga. (I am forever grateful to the hospitalero in Hontanas who recommended it to me.)

And tonight, another rich vegetable soup and a beautiful vegetarian lasagna.

After weeks of bread, cheese and eggs, I am in heaven.

This poem caught my eye, written in mosaic tile on the front of a church as I walked out of Astorga, today. The author is unknown, but I think it poses interesting questions for the days ahead.

Que el cansancio del camino

nunca te impida pensar.

El lo importante la meta?

No será acaso el encuentro

con el monte, con el rio,

con el rumbo que has perdido …

con el mismo dios quizas…?

Translation:

The fatigue of the road never impedes you thinking. Is it important, the goal? Will not perhaps the encounter with the mountain, with the river, with the course you have lost … with the same God maybe…?

Today I walked 14.25 miles.