Thursday. July 12.
Santo Domingo to Belorado
So farewell then Rioja. Hello Castille.
I hope the wine is just as cheap here. 70 cents a glass. I could get used to it
Hot today. But it is Spain in July so im not complaining
The region may have changed but the daily routine goes on
I’m usually the last to leave the hostel. All the early bird psychos are up and away by 0630, leaving me to take my time getting my stuff together without having a Juan or Eduardo jabbing me in the back with their elbows or stepping on my feet.
I stop at the first cafe or bar I find with no queues. Cafe con leche tortilla then I’m on the road.
By 0730 I’m already catching the back markers. The sick. The lame and the elderly. And a few people who shuffle along mumbling profanities to themselves
By 0830 I’m reeling in the slightly younger element who have stopped for coffee and at the end of the day I’m usually lapping the kids who haven’t quite got over their blisters yet.
Then it’s find a hostel. Battle it out with a range of nationalities for first go in the shower (last night I showered in a nuns bathroom…) wash socks etc then out for an early beer
By way if variety I’ve just written this after an hours siesta on the bench in the village square. Like a tramp
Tonight it’s a pilgrim meal in the hostel.
Almost a third done.