I found myself crying inexplicably twice in the last 24 hours. First on the bus from Burgos back to Estella yesterday when I finished reading a small gem of a book, "84 Charing Cross Road" by Helene Hanff, essentially a love poem to bibliophilia and London. And then in the middle of the night when I couldn't get back to sleep as I read a moving and difficult childhood memory posted by an old White Plains friend on Facebook. Partly I think it's because Terry and I said goodbye for seven weeks, which, despite my life of frequent travel, will be the longest time we've been separated in 39 years. But it's also because this experience is causing my emotions to bubble up to the surface.

And then this morning a woman asked if she could join me at my table for breakfast. After the preliminaries--she's a 60-something retired respiratory therapist from central Pennsylvania--I asked her what her motivation was for doing the Camino. She said her husband died 3 years ago and since then she's been doing extreme stuff, skydiving, a marathon, and now the Camino. Tears were running down her face as she spoke. It was awkward, unexpected, and powerful. Ten minutes later we said goodbye and Buen Camino and I have no idea if I'll ever see her again. So it isn't just me.

The walk today--at the risk of using up my quota of superlatives--was gorgeous. Leaving Estella there was a gradual 5 mile climb, and half an hour in I came across the famous wine fountain. I had promised to take a sip, and it was delicious. Actually I took several.

The path wound uphill through a couple of small towns and offered views looking back at Estella and the surrounding mountains. The weather was cool, overcast and blustery, but eventually the sun burned off the clouds and by early afternoon it was perfect walking weather--60s, low humidity, a cool breeze.

There was an 8 mile stretch with no food or water, so I had prepared. I bought some local ham and cheese and bread and at around 1 PM I stopped and sat by the side of the path and feasted. Man, simple food can taste really delicious after 10 miles walking in the fresh air.

Now I'm in the small town of Los Arcos, in a very basic but clean room in a simple pension, showered and resting. I can't say that the 14 miles I walked today was exactly easy, but I feel less enervated than I would have expected. For the first time today I felt viscerally that, yes, I can do this!