A rebel without a clue.

Two good Germans going the other way, Logroño to Pamplona, shared a slice of Domino's pizza. There were three slices left! That's the trinity in a pizza box? It was cold from last night - I prefer pizza the day after or cold so it was manna from heaven? Here in Logroño enjoying a glass of white Rioja in the capital of that DOC opposite the cathedral and reading the end of By An Unknown Disciple. A weariness is upon me. I must retreat to the albergue. Perhaps it's the heat of the afternoons since I left France? Maybe it's because I am without spirit and yearn to touch it as I once did?

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 Swallow...