shewhomust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shewhomust) wrote2011-10-13 09:28 pm
shewhomust) wrote2011-10-13 09:28 pm
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Breakfast in Santa Cruz
From Bilbao we headed back east: the justification was that rather than connect with the route we had walked through France, and revisit Roncesvalles and Pamplona, we would explore the more easterly Camino Aragonés which crosses the Pyrenees at the Somport. We'd found a hotel that seemed to be well located for this, in the village of Santa Cruz de la Seros - and it turned out to be an even better location than we had realised.
I've barely started to sort my photos, so at this stage you have to take my word for how very pretty the village is, tucked into a fold in the hills, with the hotel just slightly raised up one slope, the old stone houses with their massive round chimney stacks ranged up the other, and the church in the bowl between them.
'La Seros' were the sisters, the nuns of the convent attached to the monastery higher up the mountain (about which more later). From the balcony of our room we can admire the old church floodlit in the night, and the following morning, over breakfast, we watch as the sun gradually spreads down its facade as it clears the surrounding mountains.
It was our first Spanish breakfast (not counting the rather international version on offer in Bilbao) and we weren't sure what to expect. A dish of individual portions of jam (no marmalade, but the greengage jam was a pleasant surprise) and a rather dry croissant - and then our hostess appeared with a plate of toast, which is one of my favourite foods. We tried to deduce what might be on offer from the cutlery, but could see no use for the fork (it turned out to be a handy pointing device for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
durham_rambler's smart phone).
Having broken our fast, we set off to climb a mountain.
All the photos of Santa Cruz.
I've barely started to sort my photos, so at this stage you have to take my word for how very pretty the village is, tucked into a fold in the hills, with the hotel just slightly raised up one slope, the old stone houses with their massive round chimney stacks ranged up the other, and the church in the bowl between them.
'La Seros' were the sisters, the nuns of the convent attached to the monastery higher up the mountain (about which more later). From the balcony of our room we can admire the old church floodlit in the night, and the following morning, over breakfast, we watch as the sun gradually spreads down its facade as it clears the surrounding mountains.
It was our first Spanish breakfast (not counting the rather international version on offer in Bilbao) and we weren't sure what to expect. A dish of individual portions of jam (no marmalade, but the greengage jam was a pleasant surprise) and a rather dry croissant - and then our hostess appeared with a plate of toast, which is one of my favourite foods. We tried to deduce what might be on offer from the cutlery, but could see no use for the fork (it turned out to be a handy pointing device for
durham_rambler's smart phone).Having broken our fast, we set off to climb a mountain.
All the photos of Santa Cruz.