A rebel without a clue.

Home made vegetable paella. Finally went and bought the ingredients for self catering. I had to visit the Mecadona and not the Mercat Municipal, as I can't find a Caja Rural Bank ATM anywhere here, so am not being charged by the various other Spanish Banks. The gentleman from yesterday's botifarra vendor suggested there is one near the Iglesia. But I looked and found none...Sorely needed crusty bread and a dry white wine. I think I will go and locate them both for a continuation tonight. *** Dias visited and now have a rice pudding simmering away. Really I shouldn't have to buy anymore ingredients, and will need to leave some here when I vacant early on Thursday morning, and then head back up north towards Tarragona for one evening. The temperature is increasing again, but no suggestion of 38 as it was saying yesterday... But 33 is still a lot hotter than I expected at this stage in June. Reminds me of Broome back in 1999 and 2001. It was a wonderful town, but hot behind th...

It's quite odd to be sat on this balcony, with mosquitoes doing their work, and not to be rushing off anywhere! Last night, in the muggy room, I was awakened by the incessant explosions on the Delta: and now I know what the experience of shell shock could be: unable to sleep with these explosions going off every few moments. And a primary fear of loss of life with the incoming shrapnel. But here I am. No hangover. I put away quite a lot of wine with lunch: the fantastic bottifara and beans (which was too much for one person) and so much meat for me! The Italian Espresso stove top is ideal to re-tune to the explosions and wonder about the universe... An episode of In Our Time on BBC sounds is The Death of Stars . Now I must find a way of chilling out for 5ish days, until I go back to Reus for an afternoon flight on Friday, right here, alone with the comings and goings of life in a Catalan agricultural/tourist town. Last night I tried to step back from listening to music which was pl...

Truthfully this was a challenging six days. Walking in this heat, through the Costa and up the Ebro has made me wonder... Tomorrow morning I am walking to the end of the Delta: Ruimar, before the space and heat can undo me (and leave me starring into the corner of the apartment: like an imbecile)! And now I am discovering many many bites on my head. The kind of nibbles are some I have known before, but didn't associate with bedbugs! Perhaps I've had them with me more often than I care to recall? For instance in Villahermosa, and then on a long distance coach between Chiquimula and Flores and I am almost sure in Oaxaca... I blamed Mosquitoes, but they were innocent... *** What would I do if a woman gave me a gift I've not been presented with since 2012... I've no idea! Perhaps I'd run, speedily, to the hills from which I descended this morning? I went to Lidl to buy coffee for the Italian espresso stove top they've in the apartment and I...

Walking across town from the Hostal Virginia (€30), where I had shower and relaxed an hour under the welcome Aircon and it's all about different pharmacy led displays suggesting the temperature is climbing steadily towards the mid thirties. Imagine walking in the afternoon without any shade along the side of that canal - It'd kill me for sure. Is there somewhere in Spain where the thermometer is not gradually increasing so I can hide away? Staring at four walls isn't ideal, although there is some physical relief, but bordem levels increases and I get a little neurotic about tomorrow. Now I am lacking motivation to carry on on the Camino del Ebro. It's too hot to do much, but I can't control it. Imagine working in it? Perhaps I stop the Camino... There will be other times. Perhaps I head back to the coast and stay near the sea? I know there is a sea breeze and the sea to take the edge off. Tomorrow the suggestion is to  walk as far as Benifallet and make a decision a...

Day two over. No room in the Inn up ahead in Xerta and the Ayuntamiento isn't open to help. Better a Hostal here in Tortosa than miles from nowhere with 34 degrees adding to the mixer? After many a minute trying to find anywhere around here in the Office de Tourism I am sent back the way I was struggling: after the Antic Pont del Ferrocarril I thought 'can I continue on if necessary'? Central Mercat, huge, so now have Garantxa and a plate of chorizo, jamon and tripa. I almost missed out Tortosa because I didn't want to detour on such a warm day if I had to carry on to Xerta. But I don't. Tomorrow I pass through it as i hit the more demanding section if I didn't just go on the GR99 instead of the Camino? Two short morning etapes. It's better physically and mentally. Tomorrow? That is a question mark... ... Where someone is grossly overweight it is all over the body. Fat fingers: clogged arteries. As I finish a second Garantxa I consider that tomorrow must be ...

Woken with a start in the wee hours: some consistent explosion - at first I thought someone was trying to break into the Alberg, then I assumed it was an intermittent firework, but on leaving it became clear it was crow scarers on the Delta. The forecast for today is playing with my mind: 33°C, but I am in the usual position drinking a second coffee before I consider departing earlier than expected. I could hang on until 8... But I've got to cling to the edge of the hope I can manage the distance without heat stroke. Started my day packing away the stuff I'd washed, folding clothes and repacking the sleeping bag I slept on: it was too warm for being in it: sod the mosquito risk. Walking up to the bridge which crosses the Ebro, the original one from 1921. There is little that a coffee, a patisserie and a glass of orange juice can't fix. Now in the usual place to get ready to depart once more! I've discovered I am layered in bites. And I was clearly sat below ...

Just managed to zone out from 4 until 5. Then hand washed some items. I've a fresh t-shirt on but, like the foods trays on the Death Star, it's wet - nothing worked that well on that monstrosity, including security, so would you trust the dishwashers? Now it is dry. Took seconds as I walked up to where there seems to be a plethora ofcars (bar next to a Repsol), definitely put-putting mopeds and none locals: who sound Polish, Lithuanian, Ukrainian or Russian... How does one choose from their 'voices' as it sounds just like someone speaking backwards? I usually take it from their bodies: I would say Polish? But I dare not ask. There is a politely turned out olive tree on the rotonda. Amposta is a fairly multicultural town: well there is a large Arab contingent, and several slogans warning against Muslims (written by Nazi Christians I suppose with the accompanying anti-Nazi anthesis (anti-fascists are the same pigs))? Be liberal and stop all this bickering! ***...