Painfully walked downhill again all day to Trinidad de Arre Refugio attached to the Convent. I couldn’t have walked any further today, I was just in too much pain. Once I had gotten provisions s
orted, oranges, cured ham, cheese, bread. Was able to practice my Spanish in the supermarket, in a cafe, with a policeman on the streets who helped me search fo
r twenty minutes for a post office but we only found another yellow letterbox, oh well that’ll have to do, we’ll see if the post cards make it home. Waiting for the Refugio to open is a novelty no more, I’ve got to the start of the plain and it’s raining in Spain, only a bit of drizzle but enough to make me happy with my decision to quit for the day, meeting Gilles and his wife from Canada again, quick rest and they’re off somewhere else for the night. Shown round my accommodations, I have the place to myself so make the best use of the washing lines in my private walled gard
en, song birds in cages and then try to sit still with my legs in the air, on every seat in the lounge, one after another, fidgeters don’t like being injured or unwell. I explored far too much and got lost trying to track down a massage, only to find that the guy was some kind of back specialist and didn’t want to get his hands on a sweaty looking pilgrim. Dinner for one, the guy said it wasn’t a problem but I think he was disappointed that there wasn’t more of me. Old blokes playing cards noisily was my entertainment, the food is welcome and I eat everything even if I wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole at home. Another tone setter, seeing everything food related as potential walking energy and if it comes on the plate it would be stupid not to consume it and finding it almost impossible to work out how you can go to bed with a massively full stomach and still wakeup starving hungry.
orted, oranges, cured ham, cheese, bread. Was able to practice my Spanish in the supermarket, in a cafe, with a policeman on the streets who helped me search fo
r twenty minutes for a post office but we only found another yellow letterbox, oh well that’ll have to do, we’ll see if the post cards make it home. Waiting for the Refugio to open is a novelty no more, I’ve got to the start of the plain and it’s raining in Spain, only a bit of drizzle but enough to make me happy with my decision to quit for the day, meeting Gilles and his wife from Canada again, quick rest and they’re off somewhere else for the night. Shown round my accommodations, I have the place to myself so make the best use of the washing lines in my private walled gard
en, song birds in cages and then try to sit still with my legs in the air, on every seat in the lounge, one after another, fidgeters don’t like being injured or unwell. I explored far too much and got lost trying to track down a massage, only to find that the guy was some kind of back specialist and didn’t want to get his hands on a sweaty looking pilgrim. Dinner for one, the guy said it wasn’t a problem but I think he was disappointed that there wasn’t more of me. Old blokes playing cards noisily was my entertainment, the food is welcome and I eat everything even if I wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole at home. Another tone setter, seeing everything food related as potential walking energy and if it comes on the plate it would be stupid not to consume it and finding it almost impossible to work out how you can go to bed with a massively full stomach and still wakeup starving hungry.
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