Yesterday I was walking through a wheat field, and a man who looked about ninety years old, and who couldn't possibly have cleared five feet came around the bend, asking me to sign his notebook and write down where I was from. He was wearing a blue blazer and blue military-type hat, and at least thirty different pins (way above the minimum number of pieces of flair). He didn't speak any English, and I kind of wanted to put him in my pocket until he gave me a pervy, toothless grin and asked if he could have a kiss. (I said no, and kept walking.)

The sad thing is, he's not the first old man to approach me on the Camino and ask for a kiss. The first was an olive farmer who actually got off his tractor to come over, and tell me that I was very pretty and wow, all the way from Canada, and could he please have a little beso?

So either this is a cultural thing nobody warned me about, or Spain is full of lechy old men, or Spain has two lechy old men and I've met them both. But if it happens again, I'm calling the Consulate.