A rebel without a clue.

Distinct lack of energy: we're all zapped like tortured flies. Everyone is together alone. Some somnobulant readers, sleepers and I drawing freestyle. Now wolfing down pasas sin pepitas and glass duo of garanacha/ grenache noir. Two danes have heads in fiction. Partneren/Khans Skat. We're all in a trance; bewitched by the croaking and chirping. Adios amigos? Frau hacks at bread with a blunt spoon. We are lack want. None move very quickly if at all; it strikes me it is some opium den. Quick tour of the ville but even at 7pm it is shouting it is hot; 30°. Quick hello bueno to two female skinheads from Torino, both femme? One has very bad knees. Everyone has a bad mechanism lazy city walking doesn't require attention to the position of feet, knees and hips. I learnt this in France. All these guys out of Saint Jean Pied Pont are suffering terribly. We walk without marching correctly. Fini. Got some bananas, prunes, figs and a can of Coke Zero to skip along the Camino by 6:30...

Snakes in the grass go wild in the country, at around caza de reserva where the frogs were croaking, he passed me and then watched my onwards journey. We bothered each other but briefly. I saw some very old vines just near to the first village after Puente la Reina: Mañeru. I ventured to get groceries in Estella took a turn round the centre and found a bodegas artisanale. Me thinks €8 for old vine garanacha isn't too bad to confirm my feelings. Laderas de Montejurra, Emiliovalerio. Back to consume my unvaried lentil and pea from a can with a carrot of the pickled sort. Je suis le Gourmand, Non? Well the vin rouge knocks panties off all wine since Cahors; nice action Navarra old vine Garanacha. One glass and then a siesta it is 16:04 here but might be 14:04 really. That is what the sundial says. That is what the sun says. That is why it was so hot at ten, eleven and twelve: bastards! European central time fucks with your mind. I'm now overheating and can only wear my gaudi Can...

Cerveza from a vending machine: a buck? Nice idea! San Miguel not so hot, but it is ok? Sat in the Jardin with Seanan playing scales; or is that another person? Cathal reads Mort in the sun and I have another blister on the same toe as on the Aubrac. Nana stretches her left leg in the shade. A couple of hours and I'm tired, but maybe also full of gay fever. Yep. My nose is gay, my eyes are gay and my throat is gayer too. Listening to the auberge I'm wakened from my drifting via Australian voices. Which is damn odd. I feel a kin of that voice. New Zealand too. A homeless man I rewrite his worth. I substitute on for at. He lives 'on' the street ... What arrogance. Now he knows where he lives on Inglasis. Drops his pencil in the gutter. Drunk as a Skunk. I think of all the ciders outside of the West Country Asturias is closest. Good truth. Apples. Sour. Cloudy. Off back to sleep well. Really great being back on the way. ... Mad Spaniards coming into the only place to ...