SPAIN

White Town Ramble - Andalucia
Thyme perfumes the air as we climb, hints of peppermint and lemon spicing the mix as our boots crush wild herbs.  A griffon vulture wheels overhead.  Bells clink on grazing cows.  In the shade of a tree we drink from a wine skin, learning to swallow while squirting the stream between almost closed teeth, or wear the water.  Slightly damp, we continue along the track until it meets a mountain road. 

Antonio Galindo and his handsome mule Rojo are waiting around the first bend to escort us along an old tobacco-smuggling trail.  They drop behind as we push through thigh-high shrubbery, but when we stop to admire snowdrift pueblos blancos (white towns) on the hills opposite, Rojo's bell sounds loud in Andalucia's midday silence...

Sunday in Santiago - Galicia
Imagine for a moment it is the Middle Ages.  Europe is rattling with Knights Templar and crusaders’ swords.  After Jerusalem and Rome, the third most holy city in Christendom is Santiago de Compostela, because here lies the shrine of St James the Apostle, first cousin of Jesus Christ.  Faith in his miraculous power sets half a million pilgrims a year, and a few adventurers and followers of fashion, on El Camino de Santiago (the Way of St James), a network of “roads” through France to the northwest Spanish city.

Eight centuries later, good fortune (rather than planning) delivers me to the holy city on a Sunday...

Go to Top of Page