I was up on the bridge of the National Geographic Explorer early today. It was 6:30 am and the half-moon was painting a bright path on the dark sea, all of it soon erased by the rising sun. We were heading almost straight east, in the Bay of Biscay, towards the lightening orange glow on the misty horizon. It’s the last day and we should be to Bilbao by the afternoon. Yesterday it was Santiago da Compostella, the famous site of medieval pilgrimage. Of modern pilgrimage too, it seems, as there were thousands of people there, continuing the tradition. There were scraggy loners suitably disheveled with their walking sticks and tattered backpacks, but more numerous were groups of young people with slick aluminum walking poles and the latest gear. They would celebrate their arrival with group photos in the main square with their colorful backpacks in a rainbow pile beside them.  The old part of town is great, with stone buildings of tan granite, cafes and squares, and a set of stone covered markets; fish, vegetables, fruits, meat and cheese… a separate market for each. The Romanesque church is a wonder, despite its baroque accretions. I caught the end of a Mass and the sound of the organ music was suitably transcendental. Since I’m working, I’m always taking pictures on the fly, but did have a half hour for a coffee at a sidewalk café. Just inside was a mother with her beautiful little girl, who was playing with her mum’s i-phone. I took the picture above through the window and liked the tender moment playing out through the reflections and distortions of the glass. I liked that they wore the same striped shirts.