Zamora

Another Sunday afternoon spent strolling along castle walls, looking through the windows at the countryside below, while the walls protect me from the wind.

This is the Meseta ... flat, windy, windy, windy. Walking at an angle to keep myself from falling into traffic. And as soon as it stops raining, my poncho dries, becomes lightweight again, and billows in the wind. And rainy too. The sounds of the Camino are wind and rain, and the footsteps of pilgrims, which are now a squishy sound as we walk through the red mud. Rather than the ups and downs of the earlier part of the Camino, steps are sideways, searching for spots in the road that are not filled with water. And just when this becomes discouraging, a field of yellow flowers encourages me onward.

I'm taking a rest day in Zamora, a city with 19 Romanesque churches. I have seen about 7 so far ... I shall see as many of the others as I have time for this evening. On this Camino the Romanesque churches are all different, filled with different images ... they are richer churches here, better kept than those on the Camino Frances.

My fascination with Semana Santa prompted me to visit the Semana Santa museum here. I think that has taken care of my fascination. It is very eerie seeing 30 of these floats all close together, depicting various stages of crucifixion and mourning, with masked statues standing guard. The glory of Semana Santa is not in these floats, but in the life and excitement of those who carry them and those who stand by cheering them on.

And now, it is time to stroll the streets of the city. Apparently everyone goes for a Sunday afternoon walk here, and I shall go out to join them.