A rebel without a clue.

It happens infrequently, but just as I stumbled ankle deep into a newly formed puddle, after a 40 minute downpour from 10am as I felt the wind change and the temperature drop and put my deteriorating Páramo Halkon to cover me a little from the onslaught along the tarmaced road I'd followed from the turn off along the main Mértola/Beja route(single lane and plenty of articulated lorries), I deleted all of this morning. Which was just the usual. The café supplied me with two empanada and a good café grande. I am using the cost as a cape so it dries and I dry. I've somewhere ahead to stay this evening. And the proprietor of the café promised me nice food in 9 kilometres. Suddenly I am out of The Algarve and into the plains of Alentejo where oak trees dominate and sheep bleet in the pastures all around me. There are still a few Rock Roses but much fewer. Before that village Corto Gafo de Cima on my right I saw the plains pop into existence. Slowly, very slowly, I am beginning to un...

At 8:30am Thursday I left to join The Way after calling back to the youth hostel to drop off my keys and pick up the picnic bag. It's not there! Oh I was meant to collect at 6pm the previous night? I was snoring around then (12 hours kip as the wind chopped through the valley). So I stopped for a yogurt and a short longo and to make a sandwich, pilfer some Madeleine and collect another piece of fruit but now my backpack is weighing me down once more... ... As I am followed by all the dogs a man hollers me: stop. He comes off his plot with six fresh tangerines and three fresh lemons. So I stopped at the exit to the village, Monte Vascão, schooed away another Black and sat eat the final navel orange which I have carried in the disintegrating 40l Lacuma since just on the edge of Tavira. Now I am weighing more on my back, but just about to repeat the frontier crossing into Alentejo further along the Vascão from back in January? Every river has to be crossed... And every snake held off ...

Second pit stop at Pastelaria A Prova for more mineral water and a very delicious cheesecake. A takeaway cheese and ham sandwich - which was lovely! And I ate it leaving the village and heading off on the Caminho Nascente and leaving the GR15 as the option up ahead may be fully booked, or closed or on vacation... Casa de Paz Anne on a meeting. The casa is only available during July and August which is simply no fun in February. Nice dog. Busy lady. Carry on.  Fate. If I hadn't walked off piste, across a wheat field and alongside the river, missing both the yellow arrows and the GR signs, as they disappeared somewhere, the bus which came around the corner, just as I arrived at Foz de Odeleite, wouldn't have had me on it. And it's only 2€. Trust the Camino to open up? HI Hostel at the end of town Pousada Juventude de Alcoutim 17€ with a French cyclist. He says the weather will be different tomorrow. Yes I saw rain in the forecast too. Had a long cleansing shower. Changed into...

For the first time in ages I actually don't know what I am doing. Doing here in Portugal on a road to nowhere... Walking through the resort strewn shoreline, following the Ria Formosa to it's destiny. Passing between a giant of a manicured golf course to a town sat on the west side of the Guadiana river dissecting Iberia into The Algarve Portugal and Andalusia Spain. Yesterday was a none day. The previous day was a none day. I've felt less than zero since the argument with my mother, which appears to have broken something which can't be fixed ... And whatever I ate yesterday (cheese I think) was not good - it wasn't cold from the fridge so might've been at ambient temperature for a long time. Where do I go from here? East into Spain and the unknown (Like when I got off the bus at the Mexican/Guatamalan border and walked into the unknown)? I absolutely have no idea what the area around Seville/Huelva/Cadiz is like. I am the borderland with Spain... I don't kn...

There is always the same "essential" work being done by the night guy. Cleaning the floors. Outside in the corridor, next to the door (with its gap between it and the room I try to sleep in) and it's just gone 5am and I am a bit cold in bed too. Tiled rooms keep very little warmth. Thankfully I've a duvet and I can put on some clothes too. But now, at 5:30am I am pretty well awake. Yesterday was a long day. From yawning awake at 6am until I floated away on the lullaby being played on the honky-tonk piano by the good pianist. There were a group of three girls. I applauded one tune, when I passed by on the way to one of many toilet breaks(having drunk around 3 litres since the flight) and thought I had recognised another by Wim Mertens who is someone I'd stumbled upon during another period of my life. Mum has suggested I reflect upon the situation betwixt us. That's all I ever do. In the last year I've begun to see that I am the elephant in the room. No one ...

Day one. Nearly 7am. Dog barking outside and I switched on the phone: 6am. Running a bath. Had a cup of tea for breakfast as I forgot I have no coffee... But not on an empty stomach - still dry retching after the second cup even with three dates in my gut. Checked into the 1330 flight from LBA. Heading to Tavira. To escape myself ...the toxic me. Possibly two weeks (13 days) walking (money allowing). The prices are going up the week after... So I can't see it being possible to walk 13 days. My mum has replied to my messages this morning. I was feeling utterly pointless again because if she's disinterested in what I do then I am pointless. An utter waste of matter? 9:15. Caffé Nero for a oat latte. Cleaned boots in the river on Saturday and polished them this morning. They're nearly at the end of their lives. Same as the Páramo Halkon outer. Six days out from Tavira will get me to Beja. I can get back from Faro to either Manchester or Leeds on Monday for around €40. It's...

Awake at 5. Coffee. Dog out for a wee. She's had breakfast. Listening to Archive on Four; it's six. Thinking about what happened on Friday and Saturday. Between me, Emma and my mother. Emma added to the separation I feel went between me and my mother on Friday morning. The anniversary of my birthday... When she didn't break away from the TV, on the two occasions I came to her home, to give me any human contact on this, the day, she gave birth to me 52 years ago. Perhaps the pain was always too much to take? And Emma and I have had zero in common since she returned from Australia all those years ago as she wandered into a way of life I never sought: mortgage, flash car, salesperson... Flimflam. And I recall Emma came up to Newcastle to a party I had at the house I lived in those 3 years in West Jesmond. That was excellent. She came up with Paul Williamson and it was a brilliant party. Emma was way cooler then. Putting everything back as I found it, Including Ruby - LOL?! Wal...