A rebel without a clue.

First true Albergue of this outting and what a relief. Away from condescending bar staff who often fleece me at every opportunity - pig tails indeed - it's 99% bone and 1 percent skin, sure Lola would wolf it down, but then she's related to one (and I am sure she carries just one too many rat genes as she goes noising around). Back in the early 1980s what I recall was my first Chinese take-away experience included lots of bones, in batter, deep fried and called sweet and sour - inedible! Truly I love those people who cater to every possible need in their positions, but I am completely on my own with the usual surroundings of an Albergue. Simple and comfortable, and next door to the bar where the hostesses were very hospitable - I had no money, as I rarely draw any out these days because all the ATMs add a arbitrary charge, and they don't take bank cards but the younger señorita suggested I send them the cost of their excellent Menu del Dia and the evenings accommodation via...

My left foot is bad. And I am stopping before the suggested etapa/pause which is a little further up ahead after Añe. The bar is open and so is the Albergue. Really i need a 'half' day so at 2pm that's all this day: twenty three kilometres to a bowl of lentils, pork tenderloin etc... And at now filled up, unlike yesterday's day without respite. Different kind of relentlessness: Meseta... Am about to head for a well earned siesta. It was so warm on the plains I had to change into shorts on a crossroads, but I saw no devils awaiting!

Clambering up to the pass was kind of fun, and the turrón definitely kept me stepping, but the long come down to the ruin near to the road has put a great of pressure on the old war wound on the left foot. Not much further to go until the abysmal lameness sets in. Luckily no rain, just heavy mist going up. Afterwards a few breaks in the cloud and I could see the Meseta ahead. My pace now is trudging... The last few kilometres(10ish) was absolutely brutal on my foot, but now I am sat drinking Albariño and eating tapes pork tail, burnt paella which I specifically asked for (the rice which gets stuck on the pan - lush) and dinky pork sausages -  and watching the locals cheer on Spain against Morocco (0-0) and I am ravenous. But looking at the route today it looks quite some distance and I don't know if there is an Albergue open - the symbols on Gronze suggest not - and suddenly I am worried that the cost of accommodation is too much for much longer for me when I can't self cater e...