One of the cool things about the Camino is that you often get thrown together with a bunch of folks for dinner. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable (are we going to use my pathetic French or your slightly less bad English to miscommunicate?) but usually it's fun and stimulating. Last night it totally clicked. Ten of us from five countries (Sweden, Holland, New Zealand, South Africa, and the States) sitting around the only table at the albergue for a 7 o'clock dinner with shared wine and conversation that lasted until nearly 10 (late by Camino time).

The only other guy at the table, a 50-something retired Google jackpot winner from Virginia who turned out to be a fellow Cornell grad, was wearing a t-shirt with an image of John Wayne dressed as a Pilgrim from one of his movies. Someone asked about it and he proceeded to give a good, detailed explanation of the Pilgrims, the Colonial era, religious freedom issues, etc. It sparked a lively discussion with lots of questions. At one point I offered that I had grown up in a suburb of New York City and that the name of my street was Pilgrim Road. To my surprise it brought an audible gasp from the whole table.

Today was a short and easy 8.5 miles, again through enormous-sky geometric landscapes of grain, and for the first time, corn, a lovely stop in Boadilla del Camino for what might have been the best ham, cheese, and tomato omelette in the history of omelettedom in an albergue that sang of artistic creativity and good vibes, a brief stop to watch Sunday morning services in a beautifully proportioned Romanesque church, a couple of miles along a reed-bordered canal, and countless walls and shadows and endless sun before I reached Fromista, my stop for today.

I had one moment of terror/shock/wonder/amazement. About 20 minutes outside of Boadilla I was startled from my reverie with the thought that, OMG, I left my pack at the albergue where I had lunch. It lasted only a split second, and I immediately realized that of course I was wearing it. But it made me think that maybe, just maybe, I'm becoming one with my pack. It was a blissful moment.