Hey, did we tell you that in the hour we had to wait at the Bilbao bus station, we went to see the Guggenheim? Once we got there and saw how gorgeous and playful and utterly alive the building is AND that there were Richard Serra and David Hockney shows we felt like idiots – or at least I did – and berated myself for not allotting enough time to go inside.

When I realized it was Monday and the museum was closed anyway, I felt much better.



Along the Camino, there are many rock cairns, marking the way. I find them deeply comforting, a sign not only that we are on the right path, but that we are part of the long stream of peregrinos who have walked this path. I added a small rock to this one.



Walking into Guernica, the marker is made not of rocks, but of rubble.