To tour or not to tour?  It’s the question we find ourselves asking more and more often as we travel.  Maybe it’s because we have officially retired and are a bit more selective as to how we spend our money, or maybe it’s because we’ve seen a few too many museums and castles.  Whatever the reason, we are more discriminating these days.

When I think of Tehran, I think of traffic; insanely chaotic overflowing the roadways traffic where designated lanes are just a suggestion. When I think of Tehran I think of a hugely populous city where stepping off of the sidewalk to cross the street can be likened to a game of Atari Frogger.

Iran: Arrival. As I put fingers to keyboard to begin writing about our three weeks in Iran, I want to rewind for just a bit to write a few words about traveling in today’s world.

Ten days in Aix en Provence; the south of France.  Even the name, Provence, sounds soothing to the soul. Pretty much the perfect final destination to wrap up this 3-month, 6 countries incredible journey we’ve been on.  I adore France and I’ve been known to say I could live in France if it weren’t for the smoking.

Making our way back across Spain – after walking the Camino and visiting Porto – there was only one stop I really wanted to make. And, basically it was for only one reason; to visit La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.

On our last night in Porto – or should I say morning – it was 1:38 a.m. and I was wide awake writing this post.  Not by choice, believe me. Lesson learned, never – ever – book a hotel room on a bustling riverfront, on a Friday night, where there are bars and restaurants just below your hotel room window.  Oy vey!

Santiago de Compostela, we arrive.  While walking the Camino de Santiago, I found myself in tears exactly three times.  Here’s why.

Sarria, the last 100 kms. Thirty days later and we’re still here. We’re still walking the Camino de Santiago. Yesterday we reached the 100 marker. Just 100 kilometers to go!

Making our way toward Galicia, we walked from Vega de Valcarce to O Cebriero on a soggy sodden muckity mucked trail. Up and up and up we climbed, for hours.  Horses use this section of the trail.  Do I need to say more?  The redeeming grace was the gift of spectacular views.

We sat basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun at a table on the Plaza Mayor in Villafranca.  Every village on the Camino has a Plaza Mayor, I think it’s an unwritten cultural law.  I’m joking, but every village seems to have one.  Abi with his cerveza and me with Sangria, we sipped the cold refreshing drinks and desperately tried to keep our eyes open.  We ordered mixed salads and another round. It was the perfect ending to a good day.  Today.  Day 25.