The air was still chilly, and so when they happened into a tiny village store that just happened to have cheap wine, oranges, and cinnamon sticks, Eric’s plan for mulled wine was born.
The wine fountain is one of those things you hear about from other pilgrims, and that’s mentioned in all the books. I knew it was coming, but I was still surprised when we came across it just after eight o’clock in the morning.
Today is the unofficial last day of summer. It’s also my birthday, so there are several reasons to kick back and enjoy a tinto de verano, the wine of summer.
The Devil, the wine, and the bridge: a Camino story about legends and surprises in France.
The 3am crack of thunder woke everyone in the room. Not that anyone said anything, of course. But I could hear the change in breath, the awareness as ten pilgrims listened to the rain outside the two single-pane windows and thought about the coming day. We were in Astorga, a city of moderate size tuckedContinue reading “Mulled Wine and Hailstorms”