I told Bjorn and Dalilah the two things I had to see were the Cruz de Ferro and the chickens in the cathedral of Santo Domingo de Caldzada. We reached them yesterday. Here are pictures I took on the way. 
Why are there chickens in the cathedral? I will get the story wrong, but roughly it is this. Many years ago,a young German man was making the pilgrimage to Santiago. The daughter of an innkeeper in Santo Domingo de Caldzada fell in love with him, but he did not return her affections. So she hid a silver cup in his baggage, knowing he would be hung as a thief.
His heartbroken parents finished his Camino, and when they returned to Santo Domingo de Caldzada, their son, miraculously brought back to life by the saint, begged them to cut him down. They went to the Mayor, who laughed and said, “Your son is no more alive than the chickens on my plate.” Immediately the chickens sprouted feathers and began walking around.
Sometime in the 1350’s Pope Clement gave the cathedral special dispensation to have live animals inside. The cage you see was built in the 15th century.
When I went in there was a senior tour group. I had to kind of fight my way through, then fight my way back because I was supposed to leave my backpack in a closet, then fight my way through again. But the whole time the seniors were telling each other to move and let me through. It was like I, as a pilgrim, had a higher status than they.
I can’t tell you what it was like, to see the soaring vaults, 
solid stone and yet impossibly light, the gold, 
the statues, 
paintings, 
everything a cathedral should have, and then in the midst of it to hear, “Ur-u-ur-u-Ur!”
It made everyone laugh, me included, then it made me cry. In part for joy, because I was really here, really living what I had only dreamed about, but also because it was a reminder that here, too, was God. Christina told me to hear the rooster crow is good luck. I will be very lucky then. He didn’t shut up practically the whole time I was there. Here is a picture from the parapet, a reminder that cathedrals with their treasures had to be defended. 
Stopping at the cathedral meant we had to walk in the hottest part of the day, and we got lost. Bjorn stopped to wait for Dalilah and I under a tree and when I got there I checked to see how much farther. “Bjorn,” I said. “The Camino is over there.” “No!” “Yes.”
We puzzle over the map, which shows the blue and red lines of the Camino, and then us, a small blue dot in the middle of nowhere. There is nothing for it but to go back. If there is ANYTHING someone walking 500 miles in one direction hates, it is going back. But there is no choice.
When we get back to the turn we missed, there is a bright yellow arrow at least a foot long. 
How we missed it I don’t know. We sit under a tree, two unnecessary kilometers under our feet, over five to go, and I say, “Well, guys, the good news is the hottest part of the day is done. It only gets cooler from here.” Bjorn and Dalilah weren’t comforted, for some reason.
We FINALLY get to the albergue, which was a donativo. My phone was dead, so google San Juan Bautista in Granon, Spain for pictures. It was AMAZING. We went to the 7 pm pilgrim’s mass, and were blessed by the priest. Even though it was a mat on the floor, I slept as well as I ever do.
I couldn’t get pictures of the albergue, but here is the window. See how thick the walls are?
Travels and Adventures with Jane 