At some point I believe that I used the word “glorious” in an earlier post to describe something or other. I don’t remember what but whatever it was, it wasn’t. That was hyperbole but the hike to O’cebreiro was.
O’cebreiro itself is unbelievable. A restored mideivil town with a church that dates to the 9th Century. They don’t come much older.
Having dinner tonight with the other riders. They’re only two a man from Italy and a woman from Canada. Apparently last week another couple canceled the reservation for some unknown reason. I think my lack of enthusiasm may be evident. I’m not feeling very social.
The walk today really was glorious. I walked slowly. I couldn’t stop thinking about that picture of Cary in the door of the Parador that I took 25 years ago. Over her shoulder she’s carrying that tan leather bag with a zipper that she took with her on her year abroad in Spain. At that time it was the only purse she owned.
For years after we married she would take it when we went to Spain or Portugal even though she had lots of other bags by then. I think Emily carried it with her when she went to Spain that summer that she studied in Valladolid.
Cary always carried it over her right shoulder with the zipper in the front and crooked her thumb around the strap just like in the picture of her in the doorway of the Parador. There’s something about that bag and the way she carried it.
On occasion, since she passed into memory, William will ask me, “dad, do you think there’s a heaven? Do you think we will ever see mom again?”
I sure hope so. I really do.
On another topic my feet have made a spectacular recovery.
Here are my riding companions. I was an hour late for dinner sitting by myself outside in the cool air watching the sunset. They sent out a search party. I felt bad.
Oh and one last thing, with the 10 kilos or more of stuff I brought that I don’t need I forgot to bring any riding pants.
Buen Camino