A rebel without a clue.

What next? Why back into France over the top. I simply don't fancy Figueres this time and I've a white and red stripe for company - a French walking sign on the Chemin Saint-Jacques or GR route... As they often intertwine. ... At the end of a hard shift I am back in Place du Neuf Jets awaiting a slap up meal from 19:15 onwards. Lap of luxury and I've 'earned' it - such bullshit. I am just having this good moment after all those preceding billions of billions since 6am this morning... By the time I'd taken many many wrong tracks in the forest trying to locate Maçanet de Cabrenyn, crossing over rapids for hopefully the last time, I couldn't decide whether to keep south to Figueres or head over the Col to Céret for a second bite of its cherries... In the end I took the short straw to a long endurance day up to Coll de Pou de la Neil and then exhilarating, but exhausting, long way down to Céret where it was a beer, a shower, a beer, food, a beer, a beer and bed....

Tapis is silence indeed and yet more strange dreams throughout the night: but I don't remember the themes this time I just recall feeling insubstantial or incomplete within them. A bit early for breakfast at the restaurant next door and attached to the hostel/hotel. I've a sunrise to myself as the hostess said eight for breakfast, but I can't wait so long really as I've one more day walking... Perhaps all the way to Figueres. If I don't walk today it won't be completed and will remain insubstantial. I rang the buzzer and am in the Can - which is Catalonian for Casa. Many many dogs: at least 5. One old and asleep in the bar area who looks a bit snappy. They don't understand English so show their teeth and their eyes so I can see the whites, but two Dalmatians still happy to say good morning! And it's breakfast of champions again... Tostados con Tomate.