The Tears of San Lorenzo
David, a young, friendly, well girthed, and road walking Spanish Pilgrim has told me that in Spain they refer to shooting stars as being “The tears of San Lorenzo”. After some 6 a.m. starts, the philosopher Manuel and I went back to walking at 4 a.m. to attempt back-to-back 40 kilometer days. Today we left Casar de Cáceres “late” to catch after dawn views from “the top of the world”, a high ridge line with views both east and west falling away to distant horizons. We see the sun rise to the east every morning out of dusty low atmosphere haze. By mid day, it’s cooking us, always at our backs as we march inexorably northward. By mid afternoon, we partake of a Pilgrim’s Menu hearty restaurant meal before a boiling heat induced late afternoon siesta. Today we’ve reached Cañaveral (KM 344). It’s 8 p.m. and I’m a bar fly, drinking a 1.5 liter bottle of nothing stronger than mineral water enjoying air conditioning while writing. We sleep in shorts, top of the sheets, no bags or bed covering. No pillow. Across the European Union, including Spain, smoking is banned in all public spaces. The Spanish, with stubborn national pride, ignore this proscription.
