Two really terrifying stories, one with some sort of redemption, are being shared all along the route; I've now heard them both from multiple sources. The first is particularly shocking; a woman walking alone has gone missing and is assumed to have been abducted. This was my worst nightmare fear when my daughter Rachel walked the Camino alone in 2008. I lost a lot of sleep over it, but every blog and every story about women walking alone was always reassuringly positive and emphasized how safe it was. This story has understandably sent shock waves through the circuit. Women walking alone are now advising each other to join up and walk together. There has long been a sense of safety and security here, a sense that everyone is looking out for each other. At least to some degree, that security bubble seems to have been punctured.

The second piece of news kind of parallels the movie "The Way". Apparently two couples (described as "older", but I'm not sure what that means--70s? my age?) set out together from St. Jean Pied a Port, and one of the men died of a heart attack while attempting to cross the Pyrenees. The body was taken back to St. Jean, where it was cremated. And the wife and the other couple decided to continue their pilgrimage. I'm pretty sure I would have opted to run back to some sort of safety and security or at least familiarity, but what a bold way to mourn and honor her husband. I wish her strength and resilience and not too much pain.

I got a late start on today's walk--I didn't leave until close to 9:30--partly because I wanted to savor what was one of the most beautiful hotels I ever slept in. Not that my room was particularly large or well-appointed, but the public areas were just astounding, with gorgeous stone work, soaring spaces, and beautiful art and furniture. I had breakfast in another grand and beautiful part of the complex, and loaded up on eggs, bacon, cheeses, good bread, and rich coffee. I really didn't want to leave that place.

I stepped outside to completely different weather. The sun and air yesterday were my fantasy ideal, when just sitting outside eased my muscles and bones and made me feel that all is right in the universe. Today was damp and chilly with a fine mist that over the hours made my clothes wet and cold. The landscape was again beautiful, lush and stark at the same time, but today the route was adjacent to a highway for a number of miles, so it didn't have the idyllic away-from-it-all feeling so present yesterday.

I managed to walk the 14 miles across the hills from Santo Domingo de la Calzada through several very small villages to Belorado, but not without some difficulty. Danged blisters. My spirit and the rest of my body were gung-ho, but my toes were saying wtf are you doing? I wasn't the only one in that predicament, and in fact I walked with several people whose day was compromised by pain.

Now I'm in a private room in an albergue that might win the award for least charm and character on the Camino. Feels like a Motel Six. But don't get me wrong, I'm deeply appreciative of having a room, a shower, wifi, and the conveniences of modern life. And they have a pilgrim's dinner starting soon, so hopefully the company will let the background fade away.