Though my house might not held the endless Vistas of the Spanish Mesetas, the high Sierras I had to cross with my painfull feet and heavy backpack on my back, straps painfully biting into my shoulder blades, none of the rustic looking half devoid Aldeas where local farmers survived by a meagre archiculture excistence and a handfull of Euros coming from Pelegrino sweaty hands...still, it feels good to be back home, give my worn out body rest and relaxation, my feet the necessary rest, my mind the entertainment it was starving for...
So I did this beauty today thinking about all these Sud-Coreanas I met on the Camino these last four weeks, who were so keen on getting their portrait done once they noticed me working on my sketchbook in front of the Albergue's fire, drawing the old churches I saw during the day, other Peregrinos I met on the ancient walking paths and more of the same stuff.
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