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The Meseta is a high wilderness of expansive farmland. There are only Wheat fields and Windmills to keep you company…its exposed and really really uninhabited for as far as the eye can see around you. But the next little hamlet was Rabe de las Calzados…of course we passed the church…we are pelegrinos..pilgrims…you have to pass the church…but then there was a little chapel. Sweet. Bruce took a picture of me standing outside.. I was in half a mind to go in but I thought that I would just put my head around inside and see what was going on.

Lovely music came from inside that little square chapel and round the corner sat a grey haired lady with a stamp. “OH I thought, I’ll get my credencial (Pilgrim Passport) stamped here too.

She reached forward and passed a necklace of string with a tiny medal on the end and spoke so much Spanish to me. But I knew that she was wishing me a safe journey in the care of Mary…she placed a small prayer inside my passport and I was really moved.

I think she did it to everyone but you could feel her goodness and sweetness and I felt humbled.

The climb was ok even though it was hot but the funniest thing was an Irish guy playing his guitar!! There was no car available so he must have been walking it.

I had to have a go with the guitar and luckily Bruce caught the funny moment on his phone and sent me the picture!!

The Irish guy was saying when you get into Hornillos…come to my bar…!!!!

Well that’s marketing or what?

I get to my hostel, albergue, hotel? Who knows. I don’t care except there is no answer when I ring the bell. Frustrated I walk round the corner where people are eating outside and there is a bar attached to the area. I go up to a small Spanish guy who is working his socks off.

”I want to check in but there is no-one there” I say….

`’It’s me, he says, I do everything, I will see to you, I have breakfast, we no close, dinner here, anything you want, kitchen no close”

I’m mortified …again …. as he frog marches me into the hotel and …carries my case!!! It’s always there when I arrive, no matter what time!!! I’m humbled yet again.

My room is lovely and with a little bath..Yeah!!

I wash the socks and everything else, I saunter to the outside area where Mr. Super Worker is doing everything and write….with an Agua con gaz and a vino blanco!! Well you have to don’t you?

Its not long after that, when I decide to saunter down into this one horse town.  Its one street and its very medieval.  I reach a bar and there I see Dawn.

”Hey, its you, “she hales…I think she has forgotten my name. But she is larger than life and sat with a lovely Spanish brother and sister….how does she do it?

We all rabbit away in several languages. Marie-Jose and bald but lovely very large Cesar.

Dawn asks me…

”Did you see the live chickens in Santa Domingo Cathedral?”

Well I didn’t….I had read about it but didn’t get in there..

” Oh well, you know the story she says?”

No I don’t.

‘Well! She says…’…the story is that centuries ago..a young man moved into the area. He worshipped at the cathedral of Santa Domingo.  A young lady of the village fell in love with him but it was not reciprocated!! She is so hurt, she plants a silver cup in his bag..which is found. He is guilty of stealing and he is hanged !!!

A while later his parents visit to find that he is ALIVE!! They march to the Mayors office and proclaim…you arrested and hung my son for something he didn’t do  but he is alive!!

The Mayor is sitting down and eating his cooked chicken for dinner. Your son is no more alive than this chicken on my plate he says…at which point the chicken becomes alive and flies away!!!

Santa Domingo had saved their lives so to this day…there are live chickens that live in the cathedral!!!

We rise and go to the Irish Bar!!