I can´t describe what a strange and wonderful feeling it is to be looking at a beautiful Galician city without having to continue moving past it until it disappears ine dust of the road behind me. To be not-walking is such a simple and still extremely guilty feeling pleasure that I´find myself smiling just to be sitting in a chair for an extended period of time. Santiago de Compostella is an ancient, medieval, stone and and stucco and clay and dust city of winding narrow streets, convents, castles, and cafes. The food is incredible, the prices are reasonable, and I am just so glad not to be walking past it that right now I´m inclined to say it´s my favorite stop so far. H and I are about to board a rickety Portuguese train to Porto. In an absolutely light and freely happy mood for once.
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