As I type this I’m sitting on the top of a Mountain, one of the highest points yet. This Albergue is amazing with beautiful views. The dinner offered is also vegetarian – what!!!

Speaking of food, I have to share the number one question on my mind – why am I not a size 2 yet?

Before I left I often joked that I would return a size 2, I know this would not be a reality – but I did think some weight loss would take place.

This much physical exertion accompanied with a lack of food options should be producing some results. I guess I have to take note that my bread intake has drastically increased.

The Spanish love their bread. Good thing given the endless wheat fields I walk through on a daily basis. In the villages you can see the pano trucks flying in and screeching to a halt in front of bars and stores to deliver the daily bread. Soon after, Spanish men and women are running from every direction into these establishments to get their bread and then run home. Like for real running. I wondered if they wanted to get it home quickly to ensure their family has fresh soft bread for breakfast. I was quick to learn this was not the case. They like their bread hard. Like you could easily use it as a weapon. I’ve almost lost teeth trying to consume the smallest piece. So what’s the hurry? It will be just as hard tomorrow…this proves to be a puzzle I shall not solve…

Anyway, hopefully this hard bread is not causing my lack of weight loss. I would rather Thai, Indian or Mexican quinine to be the blame. Mexican…oh my long lost friend. I’m an American idiot that assumed Mexican food was in some was derived from Spain. Nope. The country of Mexico has their very own heritage, something I should have understood as obvious. So here I am, not sure what a tortilla chip even tastes like anymore. I could go on forever describing my pornographic fantasies of guac and queso, but I’ll save you that rant.

While I’m on the topic of appearance, I guess I should provide an update on the beard project. When I started the Camino I stopped shaving. I’ve never grown a beard due to the fact that some of my face does not produce hair. Guess what, it seems I could go years without shaving and those areas would still be as bare as ever. The moment I realized I could twist the sides of my mustache while not having hair on my upper lip, I bought a razor. No more beard, it’s just not meant to be…

So in summary, anyone envisioning a slim bearded man returning from Spain – not gonna happen. However while the external self will still be the same, I promise a much better internal product.

Step by Step, Love to All…