on the road to Logroño

Recreating is almost over. From tomorrow it's no longer following my feet from June 2013. From tomorrow it's Logroño to Burgos. Five days, if I don't return to Grañon for a second experience of that fantastic albergue above the iglesia (returning and recreating what never was nor could ever be).

Last night, in the restaurant (which must've grown in size) I felt ill at ease with the group who seemed to be bragging about other walks. Bragging rights definitely come with being a twenty something and it makes for very bland dinner conversation. A German peregrino very tedious. I left as soon as I'd finished off the tart. The meal was fine.

Coffee and croissant waiting for the day to show it's face. I am less inclined to walk in the predawn, but probably will.

I appear to be walking with an Italian outfit since Puente la Reina and I am discovering their names slowly. They tend to spend their time together with another one from Brasil.

This morning I listen to Swallows in the Heatwave as I did last time through the gently meandering, up and down, twisting and turning, through the pine wood. This was a high before the low of Logroño! But this is 2023 - another time and space.