Sunday morning was pretty chilly up in O'Cebreiro. The mountains were enclosed in thick fog.
As the mist started to burn off the beautiful Galician landscape started to peek through.
We popped into a bar for breakfast. It was very dark, but I noticed this loom.
There were some interesting small churches along the way, sadly all appeared to be closed.
Galicia is just beautiful. I'd say it reminds me of parts of Wales.
It's reassuring to see the milestones pop up every now and again and counting down.
The Camino often passes through farm yards where life happens at a different pace.
Triacastela finally came after a lot of strenuous downhill walking. I found a bed for the night and again attended mass. The priest wasn't able to speak English, but he tried his utmost to include us all. I got picked to read the following piece:
English Standard Version (ESV)
13 That very day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles[a] from Jerusalem, 14 and they were talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. 16 But their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?” And they stood still, looking sad.