Getting close to the end

Today, the Camino Primitivo joined up with the Camino francés.  We are now part of what my pal Reb calls the moving sidewalk. It's pretty incredible to see the numbers of people walking -- some looking fresh and spiffy (mainly those who started a day or two ago at the 100 km mark -- the minimum to qualify for the compostela), some of the walking wounded who look like they've been through the ringer, and then bedraggled pilgrims like the 15 of us. 

We have fallen into a comfortable routine. Everyone eats breakfast together and then we all walk at our own pace until we see that the ones at the front have stopped for a coffee. Then we all regroup and move on to the next stop. 

Today when we hit the Camino Francés, I had to look to see if one of my favorite little Romanesque churches was open, in the tiny town of Furelos. In this church, built in the 12th C, there are some beautiful 14 C murals. 

But what I like most is the 12th C metalwork, just beautiful. Whenever I see it I am reminded that there is absolutely nothing that I will ever make or do that others will admire 1000 years from now. 

My feet are fed up, my body is tired, but I 

am very content.  I would have to say that this camino ranks right up there with the best of them.