Graffiti has been ubiquitous since I left Roncesvalles, on walls, underpasses, in tunnels, on signposts, guard rails, telephone poles, in cities and in the country, anywhere there's a surface. There have been scrawled drawings, political statements, new age loftinesses, messages from one pilgrim to another about where they'll meet, but above all there have been encouragements. "You can do it", "Overcome your pain", "Effort leads to wisdom", "Open your heart", "Don't ever stop", the ever present "Buen Camino", and one particularly memorable one from a few weeks ago, "There are two mistakes you can make on the Camino: Not finishing it and never starting it". So I was stopped in my tracks late this morning when, during a moment of particular self-doubt while going straight uphill, I saw written in very small letters on a sign, "Just Give Up". I started cracking up and if someone saw me at that moment, standing alone and laughing hysterically, soaked through with sweat, the flaps of my sun hat waving, they would have thought I was nuts.

And maybe I am just a little nuts at the moment. My recent post about being in a bliss state wasn't quite right, it's more of an altered state. Bliss is part of it, but there's also self-doubt, wonderment, perseverance, happiness, questioning, picture composing, and endless musings.

Only when it's over and I'm home will I wake up from this dream and be able to make any sense of it. Many days I can't remember what town I stayed in last night, or the night before that. In fact it's starting to seem like one big psychedelic blur, with snippets and impressions of places and landscapes and cities and people I've met along the way, and hostels and albergues and hotels in which I've stayed. At least I'm keeping this journal so when it's all over I might be able to piece it back together again.

I miscalculated the walk slightly today and it was a little longer than I thought, 12 miles with about a 3000 foot climb. It was a long and challenging day but I did well. I left early, on the path just after six, the air cool and welcoming, and the first few miles just floated by, with a gradual uphill slope on local narrow little-travelled roads. I stopped for breakfast in a crowded unCamino-like truck stop where the road crossed a highway, packed with individual truckers, partners, and families with rowdy children. I waited a while for a greasy plate of fried eggs, bacon, potatoes and café con leche, but it was worth it--it hit the spot. Then a few more miles of easy slope on a road before the 4.5 mile very steep vertical on dirt and gravel paths. I paced myself, stopped at all three bars along the way for cold water, was repeatedly thrilled by the rolling mountain views in countless shades of green, and finally arrived in O'Cebreiro, a beautiful small mountain town, situated at about 5000 feet above sea level, with ancient round stone buildings with elegant and complex roof thatching. The town appears well-off, a tourist mecca. Perhaps too well off in fact. The bar where I checked in for my room was so busy that I couldn't get anyone's attention, and when I finally did they were unfriendly, almost rude. Not just to me, it seems like it's the character of the place.

I'm now in my very small private room in a building adjacent to the bar, feeling a little worse off for wear today, my muscles a little more stiff and sore than they've been. But that's to be expected after today's walk. I've got the whole afternoon and evening to stretch out and relax before I get up and do it all over again. Oh, and I reached a major milestone today: less than a hundred miles to go.