I'm going crucifyingly slowly today, the end of my little left toe has turned into... well actually I don't think there's a name for it, but it could star in its own horror movie. It's certainly topping my personal league of blisters of all time, and accordingly is 'nae the comfiest'.
So when I saw, right by the path, this charming dry stone wall courtyard, now turned into a bar and restaurant my willpower didn't even hesitate in running up the white flag, and sent me straight in for a mouth watering cheese and ham sandwich. And a small glass of wine, for purely medicinal purposes, you understand.
At the rate I'm walking I'll be late into Sarria tonight, but it's a fine day, the other pilgrims seem in a chatty mood (the kilt provokes a mild amount of interest), so I'm happy to potter along and keep the monster in the shoe more or less quiet.
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