Julia asked me to wake her up to say goodbye, but when I went to do it she wasn’t in her bunk. I went for breakfast 
and met Ricardo, who is taking a rest day. We talked politics till 10, then went to see the cathedral. OMG, you guys.
It was indescribable. I was nearly speechless. So many windows and colors! 
The stone soars overhead, and you just feel your whole body being pulled upward to God. 
There was music playing softly, a kind of Gregorian chant, but it was almost as if the stone had a music of its own.
A beautiful multifaceted harmony, not brash and brassy like Burgos (Listen, God, listen, listen, listen!), or a quiet whispering song (Do you hear, God? I know You’re there) like Santo Domingo de Caldzada. No, this was clear and confident, almost as if the church sang and God was singing back. 
Pictures will never, never do it justice. You must see for yourself.
in the cathedral I met Margrette, whom I had not seen since Logrono. She is going home tomorrow. I talked to her and her friends till almost 12. Then i wended my way to the bus station.
All through the Camino I have asked myself, “Which is my city? The one my soul says, “Yes. Here. Here I could rest.”? That city is Leon. I don’t know if it’s because the streets are wider, or it’s cleaner, or what. But of the cities I have seen, I like Leon best.
I caught the bus with no problem 
and found my way to Albergue Verde without too much difficulty. I met Chris, Gabriel, and a girl from Lithuania I have met before. I have since been lying in a hammock with a sleeping puppy in my lap, 
being guarded by the other dogs (well, not exactly guarded) 
or sitting on a terrace just big enough for me with my feet up, sipping tea. 
Screw the Camino. I’m spending the rest of my life here.
Well, maybe not. Dinner was delicious, don’t get me wrong. The “green drink,” which was spinach and avocado soup, didn’t really send me but it was good. The fried millet burgers were surprisingly good, and you can never go wrong with baked potato and grilled onion. But permanent vegan is not my style. And it isn’t my mother’s either, though I thought of her the entire meal.
I am skipping the fire meditation and going to bed. Goodnight.
Travels and Adventures with Jane 