at domingo to belorado

Today I am tired. It is a long slog on a path very close to a highway through fields of wheat and barley. A man from new zealand told me how to tell them apart. On the way there was advertisements for an aubergue with a swimming pool. It was a little before town so I would not be able to go to the church without putting my boots back on. Once the boots are off you don’t want to put them back on. I have been doing my sightseeing of mideval churches in flip flops, even wearing them to Mass. The first picture is the endless road I trod today, the second should be labeled. “The hardships of a pilgrimage