Schnackin´ on the road.
My bit of Hemingway reading for a few days and the penwork on the back of my hand. It´s the shell of St. James, the symbol for pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago.
Los Picos de Europa in Northern Spain. Got to spend three days in the mountains, just walking around.
There are so many of these guys here, they´re all six inches long and as big as your thumb. Every 10 feet there´d be one hanging out. Especially in the mornings when it was really damp.
A solid Ribera on top of my moleskin.
One night I slept in a Jewish tomb just outside Segovia. It was actually pretty nice, I slept really well. They were facing west, the traditional way a Jew was buried.
It really was that dramatic, too.
These guys would just be walking along the hiking path with you in the Picos de Europa.
This guy was crazy. He was 38, a coal miner, and smoked like a chimney and he smoked hash all day when we were hiking. And all he ate for lunch was pork. They eat a lot of pork here.