Day 20 - Hail Crazy Plain - 17k

Leaving I notice that there’s street sweepers out collecting rubbish and trying to remove what looks like half a ton of Sunflower seed shells everywhere. The plan is to meet my Spanish mates in Ledigos but the walk is so boring today, nothing to look at on either side of the trail except vacant farmland, pylons and the odd wind farm tiny on the horizon. By lunch time which is later in Spain, around 2:00pm, I arrive in Calzadilla de la Cueza after rushing to get there to shelter from a sudden Hail storm. It’s drizzling still as I make my way past the Albergue to the bar. Snorey guy and Funky Chick are there and invite me to join them when I’m shown into the dining room. They’re having a meal so I order a proper lunch for the first time as it’s better not to eat a big meal until the evening, otherwise you can’t get going again because you’re too bloated. Ben hur dubbed into Spanish is on the t.v. at the end of the room and we get through some red wine and have another awkward conversation where I just sit there and wish my Spanish was better.

I leave and go back round to the Albergue only to run into Cathy who has just arrived, it’s back to the bar as no-one is there to check us in yet and have a Brandy and a Jack Daniels respectively to take away the chill in the air. When I’m cleaning my teeth after a shower a French girl comes in and strips naked alongside me, I’m dumbstruck and try not to spit toothpaste all over the bloody place, I’ve had some interesting stays in places with one shower where you had to share or there were no doors on the cubicles but this is ridiculous, ‘no sex please were British...’

I’m so relaxed when we do get bunks allotted that I lie on my bed with my sleeping bag over me and fall asleep for half an hour, I’m not a napper normally but afternoon drinkin always gets me. However because I’m led on my back, my snoring is described as ‘like a chainsaw’ and there’s a rumour going round that it’s a French bloke in the corner making all the racket. Don’t know how I became French, perhaps it was the other French people in the vicinity or my tattoos.

I manage to persuade Cathy to redeem her Voucher although there is some resistance, I was going to work my way round the Camino doing just that but it’s hard to get past the fact that offering massages unsolicited is a pretty safe way to make people keep their distance, perhaps I should have done that from the start to keep myself to myself, but I don’t really mean it. Two hours pass swiftly amid conversation but my hands are really starting to cramp up and realise that we’re overdue for something to eat and get back to the bar. There’s a grumpy looking bloke that was staring me out in the Albergue, sat on his own on the table over the way, Cathy invites him to join us as he ‘looks Australian’ apparently. He turns out to be very friendly as is usually the case with the Camino, the cover doesn’t do the book justice and he IS from Australia! James is his name and he’s a dead ringer for Les Paterson without the massively red nose although he does like a drink.