A rebel without a clue.

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? *** My host...

Getting to sleep is currently a difficulty, but once away ... It's deep and refreshing. Up before the alarm once more. I rarely sleep beyond 6 here. I love dawn so it's ideal. As the weather forecast looks foul for a few days I do wonder about where I am going, and why? In the past I was gravitating towards Catholicism or, even, Christianity. But I just can't get my head around belief, or faith; I am faithful to Lola... In a few more days I will be in Chartres and will consider my next actions: France has presidential elections from the 10th April... ... Waiting for pain  at 6:50am. Sounds indecent at this time of morning. Just a food ration. And I am still waiting... Am I waiting for pain? Lingering in an Abbey expecting excruciating torment. I am tormented by my inability to speak French less like a halfwit, de-dum. My guts are alive this morning, gurgling away, from the cheese and yogurt last night: and the difficult conversation with Evan - who appeared to be accusing m...