The End of Day Two

So I am starting to suffer with the infection in my right index finger. Most of the day I hadn't paid it much attention, but now, as I have time to reposé, after a longish day - 27 kilometres - and after a warm soapy shower there is more pain. Tomorrow I probably should go to Urgencies at the Hospital in Chartres and await my turn to get a prescription...

The family I am staying with, retirees, have never taken in a pilgrim, but they usually have refugees and asylum seekers for up to a month at a time. Lovely cup of tea and noisette sablés and I can hear them chopping vegetables. It's been some time - years - since I last got welcomed by a family and I am very grateful. Tomorrow I should walk from here to rejoin the way in Rambouillet to decide what I should do about the infection: there is a hospital in Chartres and perhaps I must go there and have a day off on Saturday? Two nights in Chartres... Or stick to the original plan and see what can be done in Orléans?

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My hosts will drop me in the morning at the Hospital in Rambouillet to get the infection dealt with. But I think that waiting to be seen will kill off Friday's walking so I may be required to bus, train, hitchhike to Epernon or Chartres. The hospital might prioritise me being a pilgrim.

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I haven't stayed with a Compostelle family since around Saint Quentin, I think...

Having looked it up it was 2018 when I walked from Ghent to Saint Quentin, then met Glenn in Reims the day after - where I attacked him with a baguette coming out of the gare: I was drunk because he was exceedingly late.

Marie-Thérèse and Jean-Marc have been very kind allowing me to stay here today. As their first pilgrim I feel it is a shame I am English because I know they would be wonderful towards native French speakers. It's so long since I had this option - in Spain and Portugal it is forever Albergue/Refugio.