Santiago de Compostela

If you lay on your back, head facing the cathedral, feet away, you can still see the towers while being quite comfortable. You just have to not mind the upside down view, or moving for the occasional Vespa.

It's here that I come every day since we've been in Santiago. I wait to meet other pilgrims we've met along the way. I wait to see what strange magic will (and does) happen here when you least expect it. I wait and look at the church, wrestling with the same thoughts I've wrestled with this whole trip. I want a life that feels real, art that's second nature, and a faith that doesn't look like big business. I wish that churches were mountains and services looked less like funerals or theatrical productions and more like giant family dinners. Or however people need to be loved. But maybe that's just me. Maybe I just think to much. I guess different sorts of beauty move different sorts of people. Obviously these cathedrals, these man-made mountains, work for so many. Or maybe they just want them to more than I do.

We're here to document the festivities around Dia de Santiago, and despite Santiago de Compostela being a gorgeous city, I'm craving the road, and blisters well-earned, and the ocean of Finisterre. We'll walk there on the 26th, three days to the end of the world.