Keith will be spending yet another day (and night) in the aldea of Frómista as he bolsters his energy and, hopefully, health. It doesn’t seem that this cold has advanced to anything worse and we’d like to keep it that way. We’re really hoping for some marked improvement by tomorrow. In the meantime, he will enjoy the visit, repack that darned old backpack for the gazillionth time, and rework his plan to ensure he stays on schedule. For those of you who are worried about his final goal of earning his compostela (the certificate of completion of the pilgrimage)—no worries yet. In order to fulfill the requirements for that certificate he needs to complete the last 100 km. So he has a distance and time window still well intact.

Yesterday he talked with a couple of Americans. They were brother (from Connecticut) and sister (from Denver) and they were a few years older than Keith. He said out on the Camino you see either older people or “beautiful people” around mid- to late-20s. He also said it’s too bad my brother, Jim, has a bad leg because “he’d do great out here, he’d love it out here–he’d make friends!” I agree with him. Jim just has a way about him that helps him make friends even with people who don’t speak the same language (politicalese). Part of me is ok with Jim not being out there with Keith…can you say, “International incident?” ;)

Keith is doing his best to try and get some heartier meals down after not having much appetite the last few days. Last night he was pleased to find that the restaurant had an English-translated menu and he ordered Salmon that came with an “enormous Russian salad. Something you would’ve seen at a potluck in the 50s. It didn’t have miracle whip, but pretty sure it had mayo and might’ve had some tuna, too.” He also treated himself to dessert—rice pudding with cinnamon on top. Yum!!

The restaurant seated him with a pair of older Scandinavian gentlemen. (The restaurant tells you where they want you to sit.) But it was all good because Keith said they were, “Kind of hoot really. They spoke English. In fact one of them used to be a Literature professor at the University of Washington! The other was a psychiatrist. And they were both very nice…They were talking about how they were getting older and realized it was their time to go do this. Good for them! The professor had done it before—at least part of it.” It’s cool that the one guy worked at UW. It reminded Keith that in a conversation with one guy from the trio of Texans he’d discovered that the guy worked for Shell and has spent a lot of time up in the Pacific Northwest especially in Anacortes and that guy knew where Bellingham (one of our previous homes and much-missed locale) was.

When Keith visited the Church of San Pedro he discovered they’d modernized the act of lighting candles. They’ve moved into the 20th century with this nifty electrical candle device where you deposit half a euro (10 cent) and one of the candles lights up for you! It asks you to only use coins—no bills and the middle phrase translates to: “my light is a prayer.”