Although the pace is slow, scenery changes so rapidly while walking. Every green rolling hill is noticed, every pine forest, every small winding river. Dry mountains turn to misty grassland and expansive farmland turns to medieval villages. Every shaded path is a blessing and even the subtlest breeze brings pure joy. Each soft patch of grass tempts you and whispers, “just lay here a little while longer.”
The simplest of pleasures are taken to heart, as is every day on the Camino.
Sometimes my whole trip seems like one long blur of images and feelings. Going through my photos helps me break down my memories into different days, different landscapes and different villages. The Camino Frances goes through many small, remote towns, and I enjoyed them almost as much as the extensive views of the countryside. I took an obsession for the old tattered doors and walls. I loved the painted window shutters and flower pots. I couldn’t get enough of the stonework and cobblestone, even though it was a horror to walk on.
My last post was about how I felt during those 9 days of walking through Northern Spain, and here is what I saw.
As for my trip to the Galician coast after reaching Santiago de Compostela, that’s a whole separate post.