Mike McClenahan

San Antón to Boadilla del Campo to Villalcázar de Sirga to Ledigos It was a beautiful sunny walk from San Antón through Castrojeriz. Like many mornings we reflected on the people we met the day before. We pray “be in the heart of each to whom I speak and in the heart of each who speaks unto me” so it makes sense to talk about those we meet.  Outside of the town we walked up to the meseta— an ascent of 1.5km at an 18% grade. On the top of the hill is a makeshift cross, a memorial made of pilgrims’ trinkets.  We spent the night in Boadilla del Campo at a popular albergue with a garden, “pool” (you might soak your feet but not your body), and a mural wall. We went to the church before dinner to see if it was open. It was Sunday, and of course it would be open, but it wasn’t. Joining us was a group of men from a small town in Alicante. We started bantering in Spanish. Who had the key, what’s with these churches in this part of Spain that wouldn’t even exist if n