Logroño to Monasterio de Piedra

From my room overlooking the cloister in a 12th century monastery, today's 3-hour drive through uninhabited scrub land feels like a distant memory. 

Now and then I would pass through a small town and stop. Once, I made the mistake of driving in, which exposed me to streets like this, which are about two inches wider than a car. Combining the facts that I had no idea where I was going and that I don’t know the rules of the road in this situation made it slightly nerve wracking. For the villages after this one, I parked outside and walked in.

That's all behind me now. These monks had it pretty good. Not only is the building very luxurious but the grounds are incredible, proving again that God wants the Catholic Church to always get the best real estate.

The monastic park, which stretches for many acres, includes an incredible landscape full of cascading water, streams and beautiful lakes around which the boys could contemplate their relationship with God in between naps, drinking wine and eating the meals prepared by their servants.

Reflecting as I walked the grounds, I was consumed with a theological dilemma: why be a hermit when you could be a monk? Judging from the picture of the hollowed-out hermit cave I posted last week, any rational hermit would realize that living here is like hitting the jackpot. Or even if you wanted to be a hermit, why not dig yourself a cozy little cave here so that at least you could walk around the waterfalls periodically and maybe check in with the fellas once every couple of years. This theological paradox will have to remain unsolved because my entry ticket for the park is only good for one day and I have plans for tomorrow.