Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Nic Freeman.

Vibrant crops span like a patchwork quilt across the Spanish countryside, hugging the contours of the land all the way to the horizon. The clash of hues – lime and teal, mantis and moss – takes my breath away and stills me mid-step as I breach the crest.

A brief shower of warm afternoon rain has just quenched the thirsty pastures, leaving the afternoon clear and cool, and me drenched from tip to toe. But I am content here, feasting on the beauty and listening to the rhythmic echo of singing frogs and crunching footsteps as I continue along the trail.

I have been walking all day, along the Camino de Santiago. Although I’ve been walking on a dirt trail like this, through cereal crops like these, this view is by far the most majestic of the day.

I know I am somewhere between the village of Azofra, where my sleepy feet started, and the bustling little city of Santo Domingo de la Calzada, where I’ll find a 12th Century Romanesque cathedral, a thicket of cafes and a host of pilgrims to fill both (by graeter). A quick kilometre calculation suggests the city is just over the hill, less than five kilometres away, but as I look over this peaceful scape, it is hard to imagine a man-made world so close by.

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