Tapis, end of day four.

Day four a new pinnacle. Walked to St Laurent Cerdans to find it's bleeding closed for everything - it is France's rurality because everyone eats at home, the full bounty, of the Haut Vallespir: up in these hidden pastures...

The last village of note before Sud Catalonia and not any suggestion of a reason to hover around for more than to go up one stairway to go down a Jacobs's Ladder of a escalier back to the main route and an Auberge which is no longer a restaurant and to know my foot is capot, again, after 25 kms. 22 on this bleeding 'way' and mainly up a bloody main road, because there is no other way unless I grow wings, until finally some paths and minor routes? So I hitched to Tapis in a beat up Blue Transit, without back seats, sat amongst the detritus of life, empty food crates with a lovely solitary Collie eating a baguette. The owners both shades, with kinder, took me so I can eat...

They passed me by, but as I waved vigorously, they saw me in their rear mirror and returned (reversed) on the treacherous bend beyond 700 metres.

Then my repase on this ridge looking down into the Pyrenees of Northern Catalonia: a mountain wild boar, a bottle of a local vino Emporda DO, patatas and then a proper shower followed by a siesta in the hotel, with demi-pension discount, I go no further today. Tomorrow I try for Figueres, but then hitch. I didn't get to the two suggested crossings, but made my own Camino this time and it's skill!