I was in no hurry to move out into the rain this morning. Whoever wrote that the rain in Spain lay mainly on the plane should have checked their weather maps beforehand.

The hotel had a magnificent breakfast so I took full advantage spending over an hour at my task. I thought it was time well spent when the rain began to ease, but as I stepped out of the hotel it was as soaking as yesterday. To compound matters there was a fierce westerly wind pushing the rain at me as I made my way. It kept up for an hour then stopped. The wind dried my clothes. The sun came out. The wind stopped blowing. The sky turned blue. What contrasts we live with.

I really am in good hands: my guide is looking after me. I’d been walking for about half an hour. I had my head down. The wind was forcing the brim of my hat over my eyes. I was looking no more than two metres in front of me. I should have turned left. I kept going straight ahead. I’d gone about fifty metres when I heard a car horn behind me. I looked around. I saw two women in a car. One of them asked me if I was going to Santiago. When I said yes she pointed towards where I should have turned and gave me some brief directions. I walked off and took the correct turn. As I was doing so the car drove by in the opposite direction to what it
had been going when it stopped me. I gave a wave of thanks. It was as though they had driven up to me solely to put me back onto the path.

My Akubra has developed some character with its dips and bends. (For those who may not live in Australia, Akubra is the name given in 1912 to a broad brimmed hat which has been made in Australia from rabbit skins since the 1870′s.). As of today it’s been my everyday companion for the past 2,000km. I’ve noticed that most pilgrims don’t wear hats, and certainly not anything in the style of an Akubra.

I’m in Comillas tonight. It ‘s a seaside town. There is a real carnival atmosphere in the old part of town centered near the church. Around 8.00pm the cafes were full, the restaurants were filling, children were going wild on their bikes and scooters, people sat around eating ice creams, and there was a DJ playing music in competition with the church bells which tolled continuously for about five minutes. The town attracts a lot of tourists. The many restaurants compete for trade with their ‘Menu del Dia’ with prices ranging from a��9 – a��15 for which you get three courses, bread, wine and water.

Again, there was no room at the inn. Because I didn’t leave the hotel until after nine thirty this morning I didn’t expect to get a bed at the albergue which only has 20 places. When I arrived at 3.30pm a note in the door said it was ‘Complete’. So I’m in a hotel about 100 metres from the heart of the old town. It’s an older style hotel but what you commonly get in these older hotels is a bathtub. I was not disappointed. It’s one of those joyous experiences to lie back in a tub full of hot water after a day’s walk. I say out loud, “You don’t get this at an albergue.”.

I enjoyed a lot of today’s walk. With the weather like it was I toyed with the idea of taking the road which would have been 4km shorter than the pilgrim’s track. But what you miss is the village life: seeing the people going about their lives; seeing their houses; and winding your way through their narrow village streets. All this adds to the richness of the journey.

From today’s path I remember the bridge over the flooded creek. I remember the church where I stopped and said some prayers for people I know who are suffering.
(Churches are exceptional places to simply sit in quietness.). I remember sitting high up on a hill in the town of Cobreces to take a ten minute rest. I remember the villagers who wished me a “Buen Camino”. There is so much to be grateful for. My life continues to be enriched by this experience. Somehow, usher’s smooth as silk leads and lil jon’s gravel-throated fills paired like tanqueray https://essaydragon.com/ and tonic