Bright Monday

To be sat surrounded by people who are not like you: people who seem so badly composed, where their atoms seem misplaced in a meaningless repetition: this was Easter Sunday.

After a couple of draining hours up on the allotment I returned to 42 to rest and then joined Jason, Dan and Westy (people from the distant past who I still briefly interact with) for a couple of hours. Then I returned to eat and sleep until I go walkabout this morning.

Something woke me around 1:30, as usual, but it can't have been cheese in the pasta meal I had for supper? Perhaps the small amount in the pesto and the few gratings I put in the dish are enough to stop my slumber. But the last voice in my head, after I'd finally found the longed for Lalaland, said don't forget Pastoral centres for accommodation on the Pilgrims Way. There are ways of being in the spirit of the Camino in the UK if only I remember the things I've learnt down the years?

In Southwark there is a small Poor Clare's house which has guest quarters, I was there many moons ago as I set off for Canterbury and the Via Francigena. I must contact them later today.

Today is a day of peace as I will be walking back towards Leeds in a short while.