A rebel without a clue.

The day is ending and the Cane Corso is laying by his master's feet. He's five and tired. But knowing Lola he's probably had a grand experience with all those other smells, noises and sights? I saw him yesterday and then this lunchtime. So I had a plate of Bolognese, but I had to ask for a spoon and some cheese(parmesan wasn't possible). My stomach is full so it's time to retire. I didn't shower today as I sat on the edge of the square beside the albergue watching the pilgrims stumble into town one at a time and couldn't be arsed to be clean... Café Espolón. The guy (Andalusian) with the 6 dogs, who I saw earlier, also passed along the street and I said hello to those fine guys - we're friends I feel as he said I have good energy and the Carne Corso thinks I am fine too.

Not one person said good morning this morning, except the Spanish gentleman from Galicia. The remainder looked like their faces were by their boots. It's a difficult walk. I know. They're struggling with conflicting emotions. The young men are trying to get their legs over with the various chica who they circle around like the flies who crawled over me yesterday or around a freshly presented shit. There is a war arising in the middle east once more betwixt the greedy Israeli's and the increasingly marginalised Palestinians - oh boy! Who provoked who ... it's a chicken and egg scenario which the victors in ww1 set evolving into its current nonsense. So I stopped in Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Grañon has mats for beds and it has no credential sello. I rocked up with Robbie from Glasgow and Michael with no Brummie accent from Birmingham. My bed is on the second floor in room 2 and is 2002 ... I like the vibe.