Portugal to Spain, just a bridge crossed

Today we walked less than 4 miles. I am tired, Ken hasn't quite adjusted to the time difference, and Richard, Noelle and Deb are all coming down with colds. It was also raining. So we slept in then did the short walk across the bridge from Portugal to Spain and checked into a hotel. The others spent most of the day sleeping, so after my short nap I had plenty of alone time to just think.
I am sad. I miss Portugal. I really love it there. The people are so warm and friendly and supportive of the pilgrims. The landscapes are beyond beautiful. And I just felt so peaceful and at home there, even without understanding the language. I can't stand that I have no idea when I might get another delicious bowl of soup or a pastel de nata. Crossing into Spain made the end of my Camino seem way to close and way too real. And I am not ready for it to end. This has been grueling and incredibly hard, but also energizing and uplifting. I wrote before about how in childbirth you forget the pain and only remember the good stuff. Well I am only remembering the good stuff now. The hard stuff is just a passing memory with no feeling attached to it. The good stuff is in my heart and soul and felt deeply.
Tomorrow I will begin walking in Spain, and I am sure within a day or two I will feel as strongly for Spain as I do Portugal. But tonight I feel I have left a very good friend behind.Read more