The camino up north

These last few days have been quieter, cooler and more beautiful. The camino less travelled. I say hello to the Atlantic ocean if not everyday, then every second day. I walk on beaches and in quiet forests. I see pilgrims with flowers in their hair, sleep a little later because I don't have to rush to the next alberge. I pick plums, peaches and pears directly from trees alongside the route and eat them. There are less facilities for pilgrims here but I imagine it to be as the French way was before becoming popular. I have a very fetching pilgrim's tan, I give donations instead of fixed prices for a bed at night more often than not. I walk alone most of the time and try to quiet my mind. I swim in the refreshing ocean after a long day of walking, where I see women tanning topless. The norm apparently. Lucky me (no photographic evidence just so you know). I eat too much white bread here (check out the bakkie packed to the brim with baguettes), I see local town fiestas with long queues for grilled sardines. Yes, just sardines. Also, I see sunrises over the sea that shake my soul. Niceness.