A rebel without a clue.

This was a day of two halves separated by another over river something thingy. This was subtly different! It was under three bridges, thorns in my hands like stigmata(acacia) and into such an enlightening town: Céret. Clambering over polished stones, boulders and rocks, some slowly gathering moss(it's been dry this winter and spring) I fell headfirst into a group of trees which had thorns ready to spear me like on a crucifix or like a crown around my head? Boy that was strange! 

Good morning Le Boulou, slightly hazy this Tuesday. A bit too many vin blanc after that tremendous day - it was meant to be me meandering passed Banyuls? But not so bad. At the boulangerie Maison Dubois at 6:30 to think about the route into Spain(a la Catalonia), but like yesterday I want it up to me at that pass ... And just like that I decided I am not following the thousands pouring north and south through that low pass but am continuing up Le Tech! Ceret next along the cycle way.

Bages and a pleasant odour of jasmine(or was it acacia) fills my morning thoughts with peace. Fourteen kilometres before a break. A natural and coffee break. Just prior to 10 and another 2/3 hours will deliver me to? I will need lunch, then locate the hotel. Back to the Boulanger on the main street for a bag of a local flavour La Rousquille as elevensies at ten as the breeze stiffens from the west off Canigou. Last leg of today. Just over 5kms to go. Heading to the Tech river then west to Le Boulou. Too early for repase at midi in the last village: but the Brasserie doesn't serve food anyway... It's a pleasure today in the sun taking all the cobwebs away that have hung heavier and heavier, weighing terribly on my body and soul. Don't kick dogs, especially French German shepherds. Is it going to rain? Doesn't matter. The second half of today was so off the scale as I followed insignificant paths with no clear way to the destination I was going. A proper random Camino day...

The start of another week. Got through yesterday in one piece. Slept soundly - it's peaceful around this neighborhood. I've always felt France is a very quiet place on a Sunday night/Monday morning as they still adhere to Sunday opening times(no shops as such are open) so it's very much a family day. The bars are open until early evening and a couple of restaurants are open too. But it's hard to find. After I'd calmed the demons of fear yesterday - once more - telling myself it costs nothing to walk, I've paid for this evening already and have enough (cough cough) for what today throws my way(42€). As I don't get PIP until Wednesday I was hoping I could get to Tuesday without dipping into Credit Cards for a day. €70 per day on the Camino seems expensive, but this is not a widely used path, it's not in Spain - yet - and it's during a time of increasing inflation, etc. I'd like to be on my way by 7am as that's prior to sunrise over the Mediterr...

Exhausted. Nervous. Ready to collapse, but not yet. Food. La Famille - nouvelle cuisine. Nice but Petit - but it filled a hole. On the main bohemian area Carrer Paratilla. Not yet. Good vibes. It's very windy. Coming off the Pyrenees. Outside the airport I hastily removed shorts and put on joggers. It stopped me getting a chill. Lovely in the sun. There was/is no buses on a Sunday between the station and airport so I will need to plan something on Sunday for the return ... That's another story. Now I have a demi blonde biere as I struggle with the French language, again, and find my right eye missing more and more - I almost fell when I went inside the restaurant rather than get chilled on my legs. Tomorrow I am fixed for a night in the Abbaye Saint Michel Cuxa and I don't have to walk too far: 22kms, but I have fears about falling again. Doubly careful. I don't know if I will go the same way as two years back: Gerona isn't too far away. I think the Bistro opposite ...

Sleep deprived as I couldn't stop worrying about the time I would be waking - the alarm wouldn't go off or it would be silent... I had a similar problem in Murcia, with Glenn (who wasn't fretting), back in February in a frigid room, close to the station, as I wasn't 100% that there was a train back to Alicante at the time it was being suggested on Google. After that tumultuous night it appeared that there was an early train, but we couldn't book online! It was a commuter train which had a very difficult system, with no advance purchase, to comprehend. Fortunately an elderly gentleman helped us to get the ticket we needed so we got to the advised stop prior to Alicante. Once we arrived at the bus stop, just prior to the airport, the shuttle bus passed us by without stopping - panic set in again (why do I get so anxious?) - it was full to capacity. Very luckily a worker also going to the airport, who lived close to the stop, was also stranded and decided to drive us t...

Funeral of a friend. Mark has been laid alongside his father (Dennis) at Saint Chad's here in Far Headingley. A lovely service on a beautiful spring day. It's getting greener along the byways and thoroughfares. Here is another end and also a beginning. A lot of people have turned up to wish him a safe journey onwards. Glenn played his heart out on the guitar: one a Sting composition Fragile and the last his own in remembrance. Now the bar in the Church function hall is open. And everyone comes to partake. Mark has been put under an oak tree, away from Chartreuse, the east end of the church, but he's in Garmisch drinking Asbach and eating Weisse Wurst if the truth is known...