Two and a half days’ walking and we still haven’t found an end to the civilisation. It is a gruelling search though.
It is a relentless trail of food, music, culture.
A shameful lack of language skills is serving only to further engender a feeling of humbleness in the face of pleasantness, politeness and friendliness.
Top marks for last night’s meal and again for the remarkable and unassuming service, Pla de la Garsa. Can’t quite understand a part of the menu that listed, Christ’s Fist, The Madonna’s Smile, Judas’s Testicle and Nun’s Farts.
Now listening to Norah Jones on the radio, seems to fit somehow.