Finisterre/Fisterra

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My most recent conversation back to the UK makes it clear that I'm just about right to return to sunny blighty for a little while. I'm feeling utterly tired and, even though my feet feel better, one night's sleep without others snoring, etc I'm exactly knackered. The short walk to Cape Finisterre felt indecisive. My mind wasn't of subject; I caught myself worrying a little about what to do now? A walk on ferry might be potentially cheapest from Santander if I head up to A Coruna. Something is telling me to walk home from Cornwall. Rome feel a crazy concept with the currently saggy tired eyed me. I said I would get there to meet Jason in July which I would do still if I found a cheap means of staying there too.

The end of the world was a great place to conclude the ninth chapter and recall all the fantastic food, wine and the cast of thousands I met across Europe. Some point has been reached in my head and tomorrow I'm heading north and towards the sights and smells of 42 Braine Road; tonight I eat like a king somewhere honest and full of locals and stick with Albarino. Shouldn't all those guys in Fisterra finishing the Camino be more up beat and not so glum; everyone has done so well. Chapter 10 and another Albarino. There is a festival over the hill.

Santiago had a random Brazilian drum band playing on Cervantes which brought back some amazing memories of Steven and I in Gracia, Barcelona when we danced like part of a tribe until dawn; bliss. Some chapters are like playlists for 1950s Jazz. There was a time all the names meant nothing now I am rather interested in Lester Young and George Shearing. But I will look into that blowing later! Girl with bright green eyes from Latvia Anse; Tygger tygger burning bright as the sun westerlings.I walked off the road down from the faro to a complete dead end. I was sure that part of the path would return me alone from the bus shoving crowds. You might love the view and find some persons there touching reality, 99% are disgusting from the nape to their toes. Time to fiesta like it is 1999%!!! When the sea sits 20 foot away: Always eat of the sea! O Pirata Frank(saint francisco) always creates a miracle from the deep blue. If you come to Finisterre then forget everywhere else. I have yet to find any any old vine Albarino; that maybe just Portugal? Refreshing cleaning vino blanco: just dry and zero label spotting; a better twist of seaside town. SARgo! What a delicate and lovely seasonally tasty fishy. Home made Albarino! Fine. Galicia is fine! Everywhere but Montpellier was/is unconcerning as I reacted to textures and routes. Heart and soul closure. Should I carry on?

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